#and a few more tags in here so i'm not in the tracked ones

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 36

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 35

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @userchai @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore

@mediocredreams @bloodibambiidoll @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

@losingmygrasponreality

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, alcohol use, crying, fluff, smut, groping, heavy kissing, oral sex, fingering, premature ejaculation, squirting, praise/degradation

Word Count: 6.7k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 36: I’ll Be There For You

Friday, October 6th, 1989

For the next few weeks after you’ve left the apartment, you do everything in your power to get your life back on track. You get up early every day, having breakfast with your Mom and helping clean up afterwards. Robin drives you to school, and you do the typical model student thing you've always done, taking notes and participating in class. At work, you focus on getting your tasks done, and supervising your subordinates to the best of your ability. Then you go home, get your homework done before dinner is all set and ready for you on the dining room table. You share the meal with your mother once again, the both of you talking about your day and carrying on like everything is normal. It's almost like you never left, like you never met Eddie at all.

That's not to say you haven't thought about him. Of course you have. But you reserve that for when you're in your bed, alone to marinate in your thoughts. Every night, you get closer to the solution to the problem he's created. Every night, you hate him a little less. Every night, you miss him more and more. Every night, you move nearer to where you know you want to be. Forgiveness. You've wanted to be there this entire time, even when you'd convinced yourself it would be impossible to look past this. One of the things that helps you reach this conclusion, is a phone call you have with Dustin about halfway through your period of rumination.

"Of course, she's right here." Mom says sweetly into the headset of the phone. She's been talking to Dustin for a good while, he's been filling her in on all the wonderful things about California and college. "Dusty wants to talk to you, Y/N." Mom hands the phone your way, and you gladly take it. You've missed him a lot since he's been gone. He may be your annoying little brother, but you still love him very much.

"Hey, Dustin. How's college treating you?" You ask once you put the phone to your ear.

"It's been great! This place is awesome! Everyone is so smart and nerdy like me! You'll have to come visit! And you have to try the breakfast burritos! They. Are. Amazing." Dustin says excitedly through the receiver, talking far too fast.

"I'm sure I will sometime, Dusty." You smile, though your tone still comes off a little sad. You're glad he seems to be fitting in well and adjusting to living away from home. But you miss having the little goober around to get on your nerves.

"What about you? Everything going okay? You know...with school, and work..." Dustin does his best to avoid the tender subject, but you know immediately that he's alluding to Eddie. You suppose they've probably talked at some point recently, they are pretty close. You aren't sure you want to have this conversation with him. But maybe another perspective will help you figure out what choice to make.

"I'm fine, Dusty. I mean, I'm not fine. But I'm doing my best." You pause, wondering if you dare ask what Eddie said to him. "I take it you and Eddie talked? About...us?" You ask, wanting to bash your own head in with the phone for opening this can of worms.

"Well, yeah. He's, like, my best friend. But he told me everything about the party, and Chrissy, and all the other idiotic shit." Dustin explains, making you laugh at his earnest use of the word 'idiotic'. "I'm really sorry, Y/N. I had no idea they had history. He seemed really ashamed of it. God, I swear he was crying a little over the phone." He says sullenly, his heart aching for the both of you. He can't imagine what you must be going through. The broken trust you must feel, and the guilt wracking Eddie to the core. It sounds like a complete mess. Much like all your friends, though, he's still rooting for the both of you. He may not know a whole lot about love, his only real relationship crashed and burned. But he can guarantee a picture of you and Eddie would be smack dab under the word, if one looked it up in Merriam-Webster.

"I'm sure he was. I know he feels bad, he's told me so himself. And I don't want it to be a big deal. But, somehow it is. Eddie's never lied to me about anything, except this. He did everything he could to ensure I wouldn't find out about him and Chrissy. I just...I wonder what else he's lied to me about." You bite down on your trembling lip at the thought, unable to stomach the concept of every single thing Eddie's ever said being untrue. That the truth is...he doesn't love you, or like you. That he only ever said that to get further into your pants. Deep down, you know none of these suppositions make sense. But if you're honest with yourself, his little affair with Chrissy doesn't either. Not to you, anyway. He could've easily found someone else to screw, but he chose her. Why?

"Y/N, I know it's especially hard to believe right now. But I swear to you, on our mother, that Eddie is no liar. At least, he's not one to make a habit of it. I really think that all this is, is a huge mistake he regrets. I'm sure if he could take it all back, he would. But he can't, so the next best thing was hiding it." Dustin explains emphatically, really going to bat for his friend.

"I know...You're right. Everyone is. I'm just overreacting一" You say, slightly annoyed. Everybody sounds like a goddamn broken record lately.

"I didn't say that, Y/N. And if I know the others as well as I think I do, no one else did, either." He cuts you off. "Look, all I'm trying to say is that you both love and care for each other. Like, more than I ever thought two people possibly could. And while it's up to you what you want to do, I think it would be pretty stupid to throw in the towel over this."

You roll your eyes at his words, but he's not wrong. Until the party, you had such a wonderful thing going with Eddie. You made a home together, and it was perfect. You were happy. Truly happy for the first time in your life. And your entire being aches to get that feeling back. "I know." You finally reply, barely above a whisper. "T-tell me more about California." You stutter, sniffing hard and wiping a tear from your eye as you change the subject.

Dustin thankfully lets you be about your broken relationship, fully aware that his words have been taken into strong consideration. He fills you in on everything, mostly about all the science-y stuff and delicious food he's been devouring lately. He's always been quite the sponge, absorbing the world around him to his heart's content. Hearing him speak so cheerfully about his new life lifts your spirits, allowing you to put your own troubles aside. You're so proud of him, achieving such great things already. You hope he'll come home for the holidays, it definitely wouldn't be the same without him.

After Dustin has talked your ear off for a good hour or so, you give the phone back to Mom and go to your room. The rest of your night is calm, and cool-headed. You really take Dustin's words to heart, allowing the things everyone's been saying to truly soak in. Eddie didn't want to deceive you, and nothing else about his words or actions has been dishonest. He made a bad choice, as any human being does from time to time. You yourself have made some choices you aren't proud of, namely dating Tommy and putting up with the abuse he inflicted on you. But you know better now, and so does Eddie. He loves you more than anything in the world, and you love him just as much.

Despite your talk with Dustin bringing you around a bit, you still keep your distance from Eddie for a little longer. You aren't sure why, really. Perhaps it’s an exercise in self-control. Getting yourself comfortable with the idea of being alone, if something else causes your partnership with Eddie to end for good. You know, just in case. You continued your routine, slowly warming up to him again. A small smile at work here, a brief 'good night' at the end of a shift there. Little things to let him know that soon, you'll be ready to try this again. You've felt a bit bad, seeing him sulking behind concessions, or sweeping the theater sluggishly. But he hasn't called, or tried to talk to you about anything besides work. He's lets you have your space, waiting patiently for you to come back to him.

Friday, October 13th, 1989

October is well underway by the time you think you're ready to take Eddie back. The air is cooler, and the leaves have turned to rich hues of yellow, orange, and red. It's currently Friday the 13th, and Robin insisted on coming over for the night and watching the horror film named after this mysterious day, which she vehemently claims is 'tradition'. You find it a bit silly, you're far from superstitious. But you're glad to have the company. You've grown much closer to Robin these last few weeks, to a point where you'd safely call her your best friend. Vickie is definitely a lucky girl, even though you still haven't met her yet. Robin swears she'll be attending Steve's Halloween party, and she's eager to meet everyone.

"Ready to watch some horny teens get slaughtered?" Robin asks, holding a VHS tape in her hand as she stands in your doorway.

"You know it!" You reply giddily, stepping aside to let her come in. You close the door behind her, and go to the kitchen. "I've already got the popcorn ready, and I've been chilling some wine I bought after class. So, just pop that tape in and we'll一" You're cut off by the doorbell ringing, which you find odd. You didn't invite anyone else over tonight, at least, not successfully. Steve's manning Family Video on his own tonight, and Nancy doesn't like scary movies. Wondering who it is, you go right back over to the door and pull it open. And you find the absolute last person you'd expect to darken your doorstep. Chrissy. Maybe this day is unlucky after all. "Oh, no. Absolutely not." You chuckle angrily, shaking your head and attempting to slam the door in her face. You don't want to hear a damn thing this whore has to say. But she blocks the door with her body, desperate to speak with you.

"Y/N, please. I just want to talk." Chrissy insists, her sad eyes begging with yours to let her in.

"About what? Have you been talking to Eddie?" You ask accusingly, ready to try and force her out again.

"No! I-I tried to. Just to apologize. But, he hung up on me." She explains, straining against your grip on the door. "Please, just give me five minutes."

"Fine. Five minutes. And they better be good ones." You sigh in annoyance, ceasing your pushing. She steps inside, meekly holding her purse close to her body.

"Uh, what the fuck is she doing here?" Robin asks angrily after she's put the tape in the VCR. She crosses her arms, standing her ground. She looks about ready to beat Chrissy up on your behalf.

"Relax, Rob. We're just gonna talk in my room for a minute." You explain, leading Chrissy down the hall to your bedroom.

"Alright. Let me know if I have to kick some skank ass!" Robin calls after you, peeking her head down the hallway. She narrows her eyes at Chrissy, making her gasp in fear.

"Alright. Out with it." You say flatly after you close the bedroom door. You lean against it, standing above her as she sits on your bed.

"Look, Y/N. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed Eddie at your party. That was wrong of me. I just...still had feelings for him after what we used to have." She explains sadly, looking down at her hands. She kisses your boyfriend, in front of everyone, and she can't even look you in the eye.

"I'm not really interested in hearing what you two 'used to have', Chrissy." You snip, and she finally looks at you.

"No. I know. And I'll never forgive myself for any of this. The affair, the kiss, the drugs. But I want you to know that Eddie in no way reciprocated it. He froze up, he didn't feel the way he used to. It was clear to me at that moment that he doesn't have feelings for me anymore. He only cares for you." She speaks sincerely, not breaking away from your gaze this time. She knows how wrong all of this is, that she shouldn't have betrayed her friends like this. All you've done is try to help her, and she acted selfishly in return.

"Is that all?" You ask, still none too happy to have her in your house.

"Yeah. I guess it is." Chrissy nods, standing up. "I don't expect you to forgive me, Y/N. I certainly wouldn't. But...don't let Eddie go. He loves you so much, I see the way you two are when you're together. Don't lose out on something that comes once in a lifetime, if you're lucky." She gently pats your shoulder, and you surprisingly don't shrug her off. You just lead her out of the room, and give her a small 'thank you' at the front door. You sit down on the couch once she's gone, and Robin comes to your side.

"I heard everything, Y/N. What do you think about it?" She asks softly, taking hold of your hand to ground you. You feel like you've left your own body for a moment. It's strange, you'd already drawn the conclusion that Eddie had no interest in Chrissy anymore. But to hear it straight from the horse's mouth, to know that not one ounce of him accepted her affection, even out of reflex? It means far more than any reassuring words you've gotten from anybody else. It's finally clicked for you now. You're ready.

"I think...I've got to get my boyfriend back." You say slowly, laughing in disbelief once the words leave your lips. You look at Robin, who's smiling brightly at you.

"That's great, Y/N. I'm so happy for you." She pulls you into a hug, squeezing you tight.

"I should call him!" You exclaim excitedly, about to lunge for the phone.

"Oh, no. I don't think so. You can call the dingus tomorrow. Tonight is our night. No boys, no drama. Just Pamela Voorhees, wine, and popcorn." Robin insists that you slow down and let the man wait another night. He'll survive, just like he has for three whole weeks.

"Ugh, you're right. We've got our plans, and I intend to honor them. Just let me get the glasses." You reply, feeling rather chipper now. You practically bounce off the sofa to get your snacks.

"That's my girl!" Robin cheers, getting the tape ready to start playing. You come back to the couch shortly after, switching off the lights along the way. You both settle in, draping a warm blanket over your laps and setting the bowl between you. Robin clicks the remote, and the movie begins to play.

You allow yourselves to become fully immersed in the film, jumping at every startling moment. You drink your wine, and munch down popcorn like nobody's business. It's rather nice to turn your brain off and relax for a while. It's not something you allow yourself to do all that much. Even during your sleepover, your mind still drifted to Eddie on numerous occasions. But now, you don't have to worry about that. You'll call him tomorrow, and go back home to the apartment. One last night of solitary fun won't kill you.

About halfway through the movie, though, you really have to pee. "Can you pause it? I gotta run to the bathroom." You ask.

"Sure thing." Robin nods, clicking the remote to freeze the film.

You paw your way down the pitch-dark hallway, finding the bathroom after a small struggle. You might just be a teensy bit tipsy. You flick on the light, not even bothering to close the door. It's just you and Rob in the house, and she's not gonna come down here. You take your time relieving yourself, thinking about how wonderful tomorrow is going to be. You'll be with your man again, no doubt fucking like bunnies to make up for lost time. You smile to yourself at the thought, but you're interrupted by the sound of Robin talking to somebody on the phone. You wonder who it is, hopefully she's not blabbing to Steve about your decision. News will travel fast, that's for sure.

"Who were you talking to?" You ask once you return to the room.

"Oh, just my Mom. Letting her know I'll be home tomorrow. I'm way too buzzed to drive home tonight." She says, laughing nervously. Robin is notoriously awful at lying.

"Uh-huh. Sure." You say, unconvinced. But you'll let it be, for now. You keep watching the movie, observing Jason's mother slashing away at promiscuous young adults, earning revenge for letting her little boy drown. It's kind of a sad movie, when you really think about it. That poor woman, she just wanted her son to have a semi-normal childhood. And those assholes who were supposed to watch him were too busy screwing to pay attention. You know you're not supposed to side with the killer in these things, but Pamela Voorhees can surely be the exception. Right?

You let out a long yawn once the credits roll, looking over at the clock. Almost ten. It's not that late, but after school, work, and dealing with Chrissy, you can't help feeling exhausted. A satisfied kind of exhausted, like you've accomplished a lot in one day. But exhausted nonetheless. You're about to get up, taking the empty glasses with you, when you hear the sound of an electric guitar outside. What the fuck?

"Rob, what did you do?" You ask, turning to her with a suspicious look.

"Why don't you let me clean up, and you can go see for yourself?" She replies with a grin. She had in fact called Steve while you were in the bathroom, letting him know what you'd decided. He then passed the news on to Eddie, who has been planning the ultimate way to woo you back into his arms. He spent hours learning one of your favorite songs, even though he doesn't like it much himself. All so he can sweep you off your feet like a true gentleman does.

"Jesus, you guys are incorrigible." You laugh, shaking your head as you stand up. You're dressed in your pj's, not exactly the sexiest thing for Eddie to see you in. But screw it, it sounds like he's got a spectacle of romance waiting for you outside. You go to the door, turning the knob to pull it open. You step out into the night, finding Eddie on your lawn with his guitar slung over his shoulder, plugged into his amp. He's even got a damn microphone set up, and he's lit up by headlights. Where all his equipment is plugged in, you have no idea. The Hellfire kids, Max, Nancy, and Steve are all here, having been brought over in the van or in Steve's or Nancy's car.

You approach the small crowd they've formed in front of Eddie's set-up, and they usher you to the front of it. Your eyes truly meet his for the first time in weeks, and you feel the sparks flying inside you instantly. He looks sexy as hell, his hair tied back, smiling cheerily as he's so happy to see you. He's wearing a red flannel, one of his typical t-shirts underneath, and his usual tight black jeans with the holes in the knees. He grips his guitar like an extension of himself, strumming the notes you recognize immediately. No fuckin' way, he learned a Bon Jovi song for me?

"Hey, sweetheart. This one's for you." Eddie says, giving you a cheeky wink before he starts to sing. "I guess this time you're really leavin'. I heard your suitcase say 'goodbye'. Well, as my broken heart lies bleedin'. You say true love is suicide..." He sings breathily into the mic, the words immediately melting your heart. You know how much he dislikes this song, how cheesy and awful he says it is. But he knows you love it, so he's singing it just for you. His eyes are glued to yours as he sings, his fingers hitting the notes effortlessly. You haven't seen Eddie play a whole lot since you've been together, at least, not like this. "You say you've cried a thousand rivers, and now you're swimmin' to the shore. You left me drownin' in my tears, and you won't save me anymore."

His heart pours out of his mouth with every lyric, truly feeling the music and the strong emotions coursing through him. You watch on, hypnotized by his dark, velvety voice. Again, you've heard him sing plenty, you'd swear he was an exotic bird in another life. But it's nothing compared to this. It's like he's ripping his chest wide open, letting you see all the vulnerable bits beating away inside. The song picks up for the chorus, and he plays it like he wrote the damn song himself. "I'll be there for you, these five words I swear to you. When you breathe, I wanna be the air for you. I'll be there for you. I'd live and I'd die for you. I'd steal the sun from the sky for you. Words can't say what love can do, I'll be there for you."

It slows down once again, and you can't help swaying along as he performs the second verse for you. "I know you know we've had some good times, now they have their own hiding place. Well, I can promise you tomorrow, but I can't buy back yesterday." Eddie's breath catches on the last few words, and you see a couple tears escape his eyes. It's funny, the words of the song have never rung so true for you until this moment. It perfectly encapsulates how you've been both feeling, how you ended up here. And with every line he recites, it's a promise made to you for all time. A promise to take care of you, and never lead you down the wrong road again. You're suddenly overcome with the urge to tell him how much you also want to make this promise. Your feet move before you even realize what you're doing, bringing yourself right beside Eddie to sing the chorus with him this time. His smile grows, and everyone cheers. "Help me out, sweetheart." He chuckles, and you lean into the mic with him.

"I'll be there for you, these five words I swear to you. When you breathe, I wanna be the air for you. I'll be there for you. I'd live and I'd die for you. I'd steal the sun from the sky for you. Words can't say what love can do, I'll be there for you." The two of you sound amazing together, tears streaming down your faces as you gaze in one another's eyes. You silently agree to skip the last verse, as you're about to become an absolute mess in a minute. So you finish it out with the 'whoa-oh's that usually come at the end, with everyone else joining in to sing with you. Eddie punches out those final notes, and you pull him into you once he's done.

Your lips crash against his, and the crowd goes wild. Whooping and clapping and whistling as you hold each other close. Eddie's hands strongly grip your waist, and your arms are so tight around his neck you're almost choking him. But neither of you care one bit. You're too engrossed in having the kiss you've been waiting for, your hearts overflowing with love and affection. You melt against him, allowing his needy tongue to slither into your mouth. Your faces are hot and flushed, absolutely dripping with tears. But you don't dare pull away yet, not until you absolutely have to come up for breath.

"I believe I have something of yours." Eddie pants once you stop kissing, reaching into his pocket for your necklace. He holds it in his palm, presenting it to you for the second time.

"You wanna put it on me, love?" You ask giddily, biting your lip.

"Sure thing, babydoll." He smirks, giving you another short kiss before turning you around. He brings the pick around your neck, fastening the gold chain in the back. You turn back around to show him, and his eyes sparkle with glee. "That's my girl." He chuckles, quickly slipping his guitar over his head and setting it down. Eddie quickly scoops you up into his arms, making you shriek in surprise.

"Eddie! What are you doing!" You cackle, wrapping your arms around him to hold on.

"Takin' you home, baby. Back where you belong." He says simply, carrying you towards the van.

"But what about our stuff?" You ask, wondering why he's in such a rush.

"I'll get it loaded up real quick. But you are gonna stay right here. Because when we get home, I am gonna spoil you all night long." Eddie says lowly in your ear, sending that familiar chill of pleasure up your spine. You've definitely missed that, the deep purr of his voice saying filthy things that make your pussy throb. He sets you down, opening your door and ushering you into your seat. "I won't be long, princess. Stay put." He pats the side of the door a couple times, running back to retrieve all your belongings. Obviously everyone helps him out, you watch them through the side mirror, and turn around in your seat as they get everything loaded into the back.

It doesn't take long, and everybody says their goodbyes and waves as Eddie pulls the van out of the driveway. You'll call mom at work once you get to the apartment, letting her know the good news. You'd hate for her to come home to an empty house again with no warning. The drive is quick, and anxious, the two of you itching to get inside and rip your clothes off. Eddie parks the van rather crooked in the apartment lot, and practically yanks you out of your seat to run inside and up the stairs. As soon as his key turns in the lock, and the door swings open, you're on each other in seconds. You slam the door shut, and press Eddie up against it.

"I missed you." You say desperately, still breathing hard from rushing to get inside. Your mouth immediately finds his again, unable to get enough of his taste that you've been craving. Tobacco, sweets, maybe a touch of beer. Eddie drops his keys on the floor, which alerts Arwen to your presence. She comes dashing down the hallway, meowing louder than you ever thought a cat could. She scampers up your back, wrapping herself around your shoulders. She nuzzles her head into your neck, her thick fur tickling your flesh. You pull away from Eddie, giggling at Arwen's affection.

"I missed you too, Y/N. Maybe not as much as the cat, though." He chuckles, reaching forward to give her some scritches. She purrs excitedly, happy to have both her parents home again. You can only imagine how she's been without you here, crying for you all day and night. That must've been rough for Eddie to deal with.

"How was she while I was away?" You ask, carefully plucking her off your shoulders to cradle her in your arms instead.

"Ugh, it was awful. She didn't want to eat unless I hand fed her, and she wouldn't stop meowing. She even shit on the floor a few times out of stress." Eddie explains, crinkling his nose.

"Jesus. I'm sorry you had to handle that by yourself." You tut, giving him a meaningful look.

"It's fine, Y/N. I consider it fair punishment." He replies, his face falling a little. In all honesty, he feels he deserved far worse. "And I know I haven't said it yet, for some idiotic reason. But, I'm sorry for lying to you, sweetheart. I should've been honest with you, and I promise that's the only thing I've ever lied about in our relationship. And I will never, ever do that again." He says sincerely. He knows you've already forgiven him, but it's important for him to give you a real apology. It's the least he can do, it's what he should've done so much sooner.

"I know, Eds. It's all okay now. It's funny, Chrissy actually came around the house today." You start, Eddie's eyes widening.

"Really?" He asks in shock, wondering what you two may have discussed. That is, if you gave her the time of day as opposed to kicking her ass.

"Yeah, she apologized for the whole thing. She made it clear that you wanted no part in that kiss. And she told me that as soon as she did it, she knew you only have feelings for me now. It's exactly what I needed to hear, to help me see past this whole thing." You say sweetly, setting the cat down and putting your hands on his chest.

"Well, I'm glad she did that for you. I'm guessing you're still pretty pissed at her, though. I know I am." His hands find your hips, pulling you in closer until your body is flush with his.

"Oh, big time. That bitch is never setting foot in here again." You say half-jokingly, drawing a breezy laugh from the both of you. "Now, you said something about spoiling me?" You ask, lifting your knee to brush against Eddie's crotch. He groans at the contact, unable to hold back. It's been so long since you've touched him like this. He hasn't even had the sense to 'take care of himself' since you've left. He's thought about it, taking those photos you took for him from the nightstand and yanking one out. But he felt like it would be wrong to do that, and he was sure he'd just end up crying while looking at them anyway. And that is a total boner killer.

"I certainly did, angel." He smiles, lifting you up to put your legs around his waist. You can feel the beginnings of his erection rubbing against you, ramping up your excitement for what he's got in store for you. He carries you to the bedroom, tossing you onto the bed and climbing on top of you shortly after. He kneels above you, cupping your cheek as he gazes at you lovingly. "Promise you'll never leave again?" He asks softly.

"You promise to stop being a dumbass?" You tease.

"Cross my heart and hope to die, sweetheart." Eddie chuckles, making an ‘X’ over his chest while slowly lowering his lips toward yours.

"Then so do I." You reply just before his plush mouth reaches your own. You let him take the lead, curious to see how exactly he intends to spoil you tonight. He nudges your lips open, slipping his tongue inside to tangle with yours. "Mmm." You moan quietly, your body heating up from the heart-stopping kiss. His hand creeps up your side, finding and squeezing your breast. "Eddie." You whimper as his thumb brushes over your clothed nipple, your hips bucking up slightly.

"Already so needy for me, princess?" Eddie asks darkly, pinching the sensitive nub through the thin fabric.

"Yes, baby. I've missed you so much. If I'm being honest, there were times where I couldn't stop thinking about this. Even when I was so angry with you." You answer breathlessly, your back arching as his lips find your throat.

"Did you ever do anything about it?" He questions, dying to know if you touched yourself while you were away. The mental image of you rubbing your clit and fingering your pussy while moaning his name makes his cock twitch.

"No. It would've just made me sad. Did you ever...?" You trail off, knowing he understands what you mean without fully asking.

"Not once. Nothing compares to you, love." He says, biting down hard on your throat to make you squeal. He's missed your noises so very much, the way you hold absolutely nothing back from him. "These pajamas are pretty cute, by the way. Are they new?" He asks, slipping his hand underneath your shirt now. He has to feel your supple flesh in his big, strong hands.

"They're Robin's. I'd forgotten to pack my own when I left, so she let me borrow them." You say, gasping when his hand closes around your tit again. Everything he's doing feels so good, and it's making you unbelievably wet. Your hands slip into his hair as he continues to nip and suck on your neck. You're sure to have a fresh batch of hickies in the morning, once again branding you as Eddie's girl.

"That was nice of her. Sounds like she's been a really good friend to you lately." He says casually.

"Yeah, she really has. I don't know how I would've kept myself together without her." You reply, though you'd prefer to focus on the task at hand. "Now, are we gonna do this, or are we gonna talk about other women all night?" You lower a hand between your bodies, palming Eddie's cock through his jeans.

"Okay." He moans. "Message received, sweetheart. Sex now, talk later." He laughs, sitting up to take his flannel off. He slips it off his arms, tossing it to the floor. He lifts his t-shirt over his head, exposing his beautiful chest. Your hands are immediately on him, running your palms up and down his skin, stopping to admire his ink like it's the very first time.

"I've missed this gorgeous body of yours, Eds." You admit, raising yourself to his level. You press your lips to his chest, leaving open-mouthed kisses in a haphazard trail. He hums at the contact, peering down at you as your pretty lips worship him.

"I've missed yours too, babydoll." He tugs at the hem of your shirt, wanting to see your perfect tits. You allow him to take it off, throwing it across the room. It lands on Arwen who's curled up in her bed, earning a disapproving 'mew' from her. Your breasts bounce slightly once the garment is gone, drawing Eddie's eyes right to them. He takes them in his hands, roughly massaging them. "And I've definitely missed these." He lowers his head to admire your own chest now, carefully nipping and sucking in all the places he remembers will drive you wild.

"Fuck, Eds..." You whine, savoring every drag of his teeth and swirl of his tongue. His lips close around your left nipple, drawing more needy sounds from your lips. "Please, baby. I need you." You scoot yourself forward, straddling his lap in your desperation. You grind yourself down onto him, moaning at the friction of his stiff cock rubbing against your clit.

"Slow down, princess. I'm gonna take care of you." Eddie says sweetly, leaving your chest alone and guiding you to lay down again. "I gotta say I love how needy you are, though. Still such a filthy little slut for me, aren't you?" He asks, hands grabbing at the waistband of your pants now.

"Just for you, my love." You nod, waiting for him to remove the rest of your clothes and see for himself exactly how filthy you are. He slowly pulls the pajamas and your panties down, the clothing joining the rest in seconds. You spread your legs, allowing him to get a good look.

"Fuck, you're soaked, sweetheart." He groans at the sight, so relieved to see your glistening folds again. He licks his lips, like a starving animal. Before either of you can think to do anything else, Eddie dives between your legs and immediately starts licking hungry strokes from your entrance to your bundle of nerves.

"Oh my god!" You cry out, taken completely by surprise. Your hips jolt when his warm mouth meets your cunt, but he quickly laces his arms around your thighs to hold you still. He greedily swirls his tongue around your bud, and dips inside your dripping hole in manic patterns. "Mm, I'm guessing you missed my pussy, too?" You ask seductively, allowing yourself to relax and enjoy his relentless chow-down.

"Yes. So much. You taste so fuckin' sweet. Best pussy in the world." Eddie answers frantically between strokes and flicks of his tongue. You're already building up towards an orgasm, unable to believe how quickly it's coming to be. But everything about this is driving you insane with pleasure. His crazed movements, the depraved moans and slurps he makes as he drinks you all up, his fingers digging into your thighs, his crotch rutting against the bed as he struggles for some friction of his own. He's completely unhinged, untamed. And it won't take long at all to make you cum.

"Keep going, Eds. You feel so good...such a perfect boy for me..." You whimper, grinding your hips against his face. Your hands are tangled in his hair, tugging repeatedly as you move with him. You're both an absolute mess, grabbing at one another any way you possibly can as he eats you out like you're his last meal. Eddie ups the stakes, adding two thick, ringed fingers inside your pussy, pumping them in and out at a rapid pace. "Fuck! Oh, Eddie...you're gonna make me cum already. Don't stop, please." You feel like your mind is melting, unable to comprehend how amazing everything feels.

"Cum for me, sweetheart. Soak my face like a good little slut." Eddie commands, his tone pitched and broken. He's been steadily humping the bed this whole time, driven so far out of control by the taste, smell, and sound of you. Once you let it all go, so will he. A big sticky mess in his boxers, all because of you. He curls his fingers harder and faster inside you, and sucks harshly on your clit to send you flying over the edge.

"Eddie! Fuck!" You cry out as an unbelievable high violently rips through you. Your thighs clamp down around his head, nails digging into his scalp. Your muscles spasm, and you completely soak Eddie's face and the sheets with your cum. He groans into your pussy once you've given him what he wants, his load spilling inside his pants, hips bucking a few final times against the mattress to ride out his orgasm. But he doesn't stop there, he crawls back up to you to press his cum-soaked lips to yours. You're still trying to catch your breath, but you meet him in the middle anyway. "Baby, I want more, I want you. All of you, over and over again, please?" You beg clumsily between those same starving kisses from before. It's like you can't help yourselves, clamoring for every bit of pleasure that you can get, completely drunk with lust.

"You'll get everything you want, angel. I promise. I won't stop until you beg me to." Eddie pants, leaving a sticky trail of arousal on your skin as he kisses every last inch of you he can reach. It's gonna be a long night. That first orgasm was far too quick, not nearly enough to satisfy you. It's a good thing you don't have a damn thing to worry about tomorrow. No work, or school, or heartbreak. All you have to focus on now, is each other.

To be continued...

[batsplat]

Your post about sete/vale rivalry is literally so informative it's like a pivotal post to fully understand the way valentino's mind works. You're his friend just up to the point you are not (mainly after perceived crimes not backed up by any real proof apparently). Valentino literally turbodivorced every guy he was friendly with in the paddock (and the irony of two of those turbodivorces happening in the same place isn't lost on me)

I did do my best to keep marc out of that post and let the parallels speak for themselves but like. yes

what's interesting to me about this rivalry is that it's... kind of his first rodeo. I mean he'd obviously had rivals before and a feud and all that and him and biaggi were constantly *gestures* - but one of the most common complaints about valentino is that he switches up towards you when you actually become a serious threat. which!! I still fully believe to some extent is natural, this is sports, they're competing, and I take more seriously with some of valentino's victims than with others. (melandri is always the one where I'm a bit? valentino no offence but why would you bother, in 2005 there wasn't a title fight and in 2006 valentino actually got on really well with two of the four other main contenders and at the very least didn't actively have a problem with dani. so maybe just a melandri problem question mark.) but I do feel like sete was... maybe not the first, but the first that was this extreme. and, very much topic for another post, but he really does learn a lot from the sete rivalry. a lot of the tactics and performance art and all of that, how he uses all of it to demoralise his enemies - this rivalry was kinda the blueprint

but, at the same time, of course it was a different valentino that marc ended up fighting, and not just in terms of how fast and competitive valentino was at that stage of his career. this is something that's quite hard to get across sometimes, because the natural inclination is to just... look at all the past instances in which valentino was a dick and conclude that he has, in fact, always been a dick. but he wasn't just statically malevolent for a twenty plus year career, and it's important to... reinsert context to assess how he developed as a rider and as a character during that time. it's not twenty non-stop years of valentino feuding. and marc is facing a valentino who had inevitably changed as a result of years of injury and poor results on a poor bike. valentino was pretty open in 2012 that he was returning to yamaha after two years on a donkey of a bike to, y'know, see if he was still fast, if he still had it in him - because he genuinely did not know (stop me if this reminds you of anyone more recently). he was so frustrated in 2013 with constantly finishing in fourth place that he took the truly radical step of firing his crew chief jb. one more try, one more change up to see if he could still be fast

it was only in 2014, where, okay he was losing to marc, but he could feel that he was competitive again, he could semi-regularly beat jorge and dani at the very least... then comes misano and he beats marc in a direct fight, draws an error out of him, gets him to crash, and marc shows up at his ranch and manages to strongly signal that he does actually really want to beat valentino. and that, in a way, shows that he was beginning to take valentino seriously as a competitor again (which I would suggest he wasn't doing at the end of 2013). that's something that's easy to miss about the ranch episode: yes, it's notable how much they were treating each other like hardened rivals, but it was also notable they were doing so in 2014, given the kind of season marc was having. maybe it truly was the worst possible timing. maybe it truly was the race in misano that made both of them go. hey. this really could be happening

but it's still a humbled version of valentino, it's still a version of valentino who has already kind of had to make his peace with the fact his time might very much be over. to me, in a way it's more dramatically satisfying if he did make peace with it, if he was more or less all right with marc making the sport his own. okay, there's always going to be a little bit of bitterness, a little bit of envy... because he wished he could still do what marc was doing, of course he did. but by the end of 2013, he knew it was more likely than not he would never be involved in another title fight. he thought his career might be ending after the 2014 season. he told the world if he wasn't competitive in the early races in 2014 then that would be that, and I think he meant it

there was no guarantee he'd have a season like 2015 - sure, he was working harder than ever and making radical personnel choices, all in the hope he still had something more to give... but he didn't know it would happen. it was really really unlikely!! there's a giddiness to him in early 2015, almost like he couldn't quite believe himself he'd get that chance. and then, yes, he does withdraw from marc, he does go back into title fight mode... but relatively speaking, this is still a more agreeable version of valentino. this is still a version of valentino who is determined to not start shit with jorge - it's odd to watch, but in those 2015 pressers valentino is constantly engaging him in conversation, at a time in which the marc chatter was already dropping off pretty sharpish

(incidentally, I think vale was proper pissed off at how jorge reacted to the whole sepang thing and how jorge was angry with valentino, which is very funny to me. like at catalunya 2016 vale's going!! I actually made an effort with this bitch!! I was nice to him for three years, does that count for nothing??)

valentino also doesn't blow shit up over assen, even though by his standards marc should be giving him plenty of reason to. he's definitely cooled off towards marc, but he's still giving him the benefit of the doubt where he wouldn't have done so with past rivals - which, yes, I do think partly reflects how he felt about marc, but also reflects how he was approaching that year and that phase of his career as a whole. he didn't really want drama; he wasn't really looking for any distractions from the actual title fight. which doesn't mean that he wasn't already changing his behaviour towards his competitors in response to the demands of the season - it's just a question of the extent. here from a write-up of assen 2015 (I don't entirely agree on the point of the effectiveness of valentino's mind games, though I do agree - like valentino himself does - with the general idea that most of the work needs to be done on-track):

in the end, he cracked. I guess that's what generally happens when you put someone under that kind of pressure - you make them revert to type. valentino wasn't arrogant or entitled or over-confident in that season, he was desperate. he'd been given this unexpected chance and he was throwing everything he had into making it work. body, mind, soul, all of it, wringing himself out in pursuit of this dream. he could feel it slipping away at several points that season... that four race jorge win streak where he led every single lap and it was kind of like? okay, you just can't do anything about that. valentino can't match that, not at this stage of his career. or brno, after which they were level on points and jorge led on countback and it just felt like valentino so obviously had a consistent pace deficit that surely this could only go one way. all these moments where it felt like it might actually be over, in the least dramatic way imaginable. in many ways, this wasn't really a title fight that should ever have been so close - and it's to valentino's credit as a rider, his versatility and willpower, that he was even able to push things as far as he did. but he did know he was hanging on by a thread, and he ended up playing the last hand he felt he had available

obviously, it wasn't really rational calculation that made him do what he did in sepang - though there probably was an element of, y'know, might as well. but he believed he detected a pattern of behaviour in marc - not entirely incorrectly, because it did feel like marc approached his battles with valentino differently - and fashioned himself a conspiracy on the basis of it. he hoped it could change the momentum one last time; he decided to make one final roll of the dice. and then, of course, marc reacted in a way that has ensured valentino will never stop believing in his conspiracy theory. because of course marc did, because of course he never would have taken it lying down. because valentino knew from the moment marc engaged him in that battle at sepang that it was almost certainly all over, because he lost his temper - which usually helps him, except when it doesn't. because they both lost their tempers and ended up just wanting to hurt each other, to prove a point. because that's who they both are

the main point I'm trying to make here is kind of.... it's just how I personally read the sete stuff - yes, these are the same patterns of behaviour, yes, a lot of parallels do obviously present themselves. I've long felt that sete is the single most significant valentino feud to understanding what happened with marc. he's the only other one who valentino was friends with, the only other one valentino felt hurt by on a personal level, the only other one who valentino changed his behaviour towards from one day to the next. and I think under the right circumstances, if you give valentino enough of an excuse and enough of a prize to aim for and have planted enough seeds of suspicion in advance... you can get this situation where the competitive paranoia takes control and he buys into this whole betrayal narrative and he decides he needs to go nuclear. and it also gave him a script to follow - one he knew could work because it had. except of course it could have gone very wrong in 2004 too. what happens if he's so desperately determined to ruin sete that he bins it in phillip island and finds himself only barely ahead in the points going into the title decider? compare that race to phillip island 2009 - obviously, there's a sizeable difference between the level of opposition (especially at that circuit) and the '09 race probably wasn't winnable, but he still ends up eventually deciding to settle for second behind casey because he doesn't want to risk losing the championship to jorge. he's not casey's biggest fan either, but he never came close to losing his head fighting him. it's different. he might do some of his finest riding when he's angry, but where there's anger there's also volatility. and, on occasion, there's also some really bad choices

if 2004 is the moment where he's properly learning to play these games, then 2015 is him falling back on these tools when he really had basically discarded them. it'd been five years since he'd engaged in mind games in earnest (I know him and casey were constantly at it in 2011-12, but whatever the hell that was about, whatever part of their psyches they were appeasing there, it obviously had fuck all to do with on-track competition). that's a long time! there's a 2014 interview where he's asked about his work on the 'mental side' against his rivals:

the first thing he immediately stresses is that there's zero point in doing any of this if you're not fast enough on-track to back it up. if you are fast, sure, you can do some off-track 'work', especially if you know it makes your rivals suffer :) but it won't have the same effect without the on-track performance. so even if we want to say valentino hadn't mellowed post-2012, even if he hadn't grown one jot humbler in his heart of hearts, even if he wasn't swayed by any genuine fondness for marc, he still knew the maths just didn't work out in his favour with his current opponents. he couldn't deploy his favourite tactics against jorge because jorge insisted on spending the entire season either two spots ahead or three spots behind valentino, and the off-track stuff just can't work if you're never sharing space on-track. it could and did work against marc, but he wasn't trying to score psychological victories against marc! certainly not by the time they reached assen and marc was basically out of that title fight. so there wouldn't have been any point in trying to fuck with either of them in that way off-track and, well, it could easily backfire. which is something valentino understood perfectly well until they were 88.9% of the way through the season, and then he changed his mind at what was almost the very last possible moment. which I think speaks to how desperate valentino was to make a mistake like he did at sepang: he felt it was all he had left to try

the other way in which marc comes into this whole thing is that.... I mean, he knew about all this stuff! this is the thing right, maybe he wasn't watching the sepang 2004 press conference as an eleven year old and later going 'huh' but broadly speaking, he will obviously have been aware of how this went down, qatar controversy and all of it. he's sitting right there in that jerez 2015 presser when valentino is asked about sete and in response valentino says sete played 'dirty games'. he's obviously aware of the whole jerez 2005 situation, not least because he copied valentino's overtake in his third ever premier class race. which in turn sete was watching unfold, and is still having thoughts about in 2023:

so it's kind of... y'know, you've got marc, you've got someone who's still very much the heir apparent despite all the drama between him and valentino. if you're sete, do you look at marc and see somebody who valentino hurt in similar ways to what he did to you, or do you look at marc and see another version of valentino? do you see both? it's again that thing of, if you have a problem with some of valentino's more aggressive riding then you will definitely have a problem with marc. because of course marc is the escalation, because valentino generally picked his moments a bit more and adjusted his levels of aggression more to the situation, whereas marc is mostly just Like That. so sure, if you're sete gibernau you can look at marc and see another one of valentino's victims, but at the end of the day you're also going to see his legacy

and this from 2017:

not an original thing to say obviously, half of motogp has said it at one point or another. but. still. meaningful to me!

that tension between 'fellow valentino rival' and 'valentino's successor' is imo inherent to the jerez pass situation, because (along with laguna seca) it's an example of marc actively inserting himself into valentino's legacy. and the thing is, right, these aren't just neutral fun passes that everyone remembers because they looked cool: they're the biggest flashpoints of their respective feuds. marc did to jorge what valentino did to sete - and then he did the most valentino thing imaginable and went to jorge when he must have known jorge would still be furious, making him publicly reject his handshake and starting up a whole lot of discourse™ that would take forever to die down. marc knew immediately how controversial what he did would be and was completely at home in the chaos. it's not just the pass that does valentino proud, it's the shamelessness

while that race might not have had the same repercussions as '05, at the end of the day you do have to remember that those passes have a lot of baggage and controversy attached that marc is also making himself a part of. in the case of laguna, it's valentino addressing livio suppo in the presser because of all the grief suppo and casey had given valentino over the '08 overtake. in the case of the jerez pass, it's sete talking about how alienated he is by this whole approach to riding that marc so completely embodies. and the whole thing has come up quite a few times since 2013, because everyone loves bringing up last corner passes at least once a year when they show up again at jerez

so for instance we have this clip from 2016 (fourth race of the season, vibes still in hell), where the riders are asked whether they'd prefer to be in first, second or third position heading into that final corner. not all too much to say about this one, really. jorge, who it seems has at long last learned his lesson about what to do when you've got a lunatic sitting on your rear wheel headed into the final corner of a race, stresses that he'd protect the inside line - not least because these two fuckers would dive on the inside through the grass if you give them half a chance. also, decent gag from marc! good on him. not always easy for those who have decided they hate him so much so that they refuse to laugh at anything he says

then we have this from 2017 - where sete is in the room - asking four riders who they'd want to arrive at jerez's final corner with. three guys give pretty boring answers, though you'll note in 2017 valentino does actually mention his battle with sete (*gestures with his head in sete's direction*) in the same breath as the one between "marc and jorge". those three boring answers are followed by a great response courtesy of jorge. the question doesn't actually specify, but obviously jorge immediately zeroes in on valentino and marc since they are. you know. the two guys with a history of doing last corner jerez crimes. and they're also two confirmed lunatics, though jorge believes that valentino at least might be a little less reckless now that he's a little older. hey, maybe even marc has become 3% more sensible at the advanced age of 24 (funnily enough, vale when making that overtake in '05 was two years older than marc is in this clip). it's a sweet moment - but, without wanting to belabour the obvious, it's also another way of showing how irrevocably linked both the passes and the blokes executing them are. both valentino and marc are 'hard brakers', to put it lightly. two peas in a pod, from a man who would know

we do also of course get sete reacting to valentino's answer. idk what this facial expression is but I sure am compelled by it (thank u to dani pedrosa for working with sete in 2017 so that we'd get live sete reaction shots. I am very grateful)

okay so those two I included because. well it's just kind of neat and fun that this is a parallel they won't ever escape. linked legacies and all that. but I am actually building up to a point here, and it's to do with how even post-2015, it's not like marc is always overflowing with sympathy and compassion for valentino's other victims. he knows his lore! he will know at least the general details of the sete relationship and how it deteriorated and what valentino did to him afterwards! so let's bring in austria 2017, a time at which the vibes between the two of them aren't actually. catastrophic. exhibit a:

so in this presser, valentino is asked if his overtake on jorge at catalunya '09 is the favourite of his career, and he says it was special because it was the last corner - he can't remember any other examples of him making a last corner overtake in the premier class. at which point marc taps valentino to point out sete:

the expression marc makes in the thumbnail - that's how he looks when he's eagerly waiting for valentino to put two and two together. the thing is, right, this whole feuding business, the way valentino treated his rivals, how he was pretty awful to them... all of it will have been stuff that marc actively enjoyed as a fan. and even post-2015, when marc has experienced some of the very worst valentino has to offer, marc still finds the whole jerez thing pretty funny, not just the overtake but what it meant for the relationship between valentino and sete. he makes valentino aware of sete in the room, because of course he would never forget valentino's greatest hits. like, remember why this exchange is funny: everybody knows this overtake was a super controversial thing and a big source of tension between the two of them and valentino's forgotten about it. and marc's laughing at this!! in 2017!! "after we have a bit problems" and marc thinks it's hilarious!! buddy

one more presser moment, from 2019. just a bit of context here - earlier in the presser they were asked about dani getting a corner named after him at jerez and valentino went 'yeah good for him but I wouldn't want a corner named after me !!' and marc talked about how he'd gotten a corner at aragon named after him the year before. so now, the riders are asked what their favourite bit of the jerez circuit is. the joke here goes a) marc says 'last corner' the way he does because everyone knows he did a terrorism there, b) jack miller says 'you mean jorge lorenzo corner' because everyone knows it's funny marc did a terrorism on jorge there like a day after jorge got the corner named after him, and c) marc says 'it's valentino corner' because everyone knows his move was copying the move valentino did on sete. and... 'valentino corner'... first of all why would you do this to your literal teammate jorge lorenzo... but again the whole reason this exchange is funny is because the premise is that they did the same thing, valentino to sete and marc to jorge. implicitly, it's making the link between the pair of them and how they terrorised their rivals in the same way. still. in 2019

speaking of legacies, there's a moment in the 2016 catalunya presser where valentino is asked how that duel compares to his past duels in 2007 and 2009 at that circuit (notice the blatant and unchallenged sete erasure - 2004 and 2005 were really great but okay). and valentino says he counts it on the same level as the jorge fight - "was three great battles with three great opponents". which, y'know, I really love 2016, I think it's fantastic, but marc makes a mistake on the penultimate lap and denies us the most dramatic of finales. like I think it's completely reasonable and nice for valentino to count it in that same camp as the 2009 duel, but I also think it wouldn't have been crazy or disrespectful or anything if he'd gone 'yeah that was great but not quite the same thing'. this definitely might be reading too much into it (surely not) but given how valentino has since occasionally left marc out of the rivalries list, said he wasn't his toughest rival etc etc, I do think it's kinda notable that during that moment of 'reconciliation', valentino allowed marc to be part of his legacy - even if it's just in a small way. 'great valentino catalunya battles' is a pretty cool group of races to be a part of, y'know? the infamous overtakes, the duels, these are the things people remember. these are the things marc remembered, as valentino's fan - inevitably, it'll mean something to him. it's a legacy he wants to be a part of, by fighting valentino, by emulating valentino, and sometimes valentino lets him and sometimes he'd rather leave marc out in the cold. you'll note that in 2019 he doesn't really engage with the "valentino corner" gag from marc and instead goes with the far more neutral turn 5 as his own pick

in the very very immediate aftermath of sepang (aka december 2015), marc did openly make the comparison between himself and valentino's other rivals:

and it's informed his whole approach since then - it's a big part of why he's tried to be quiet about the drama with valentino over the years. he knows how valentino behaves towards his rivals, he always has. he knows he can't beat valentino off-track... but (beyond his undeniable mental resilience) he's just fortunate enough that with his talent and the way their career windows have overlapped, more often than not he's been able to out-perform valentino on the track. and y'know, it's an interesting element to the whole thing I feel... marc was a fan of valentino's for a lot of reasons - he was very much a fan of the complete package, if you will. including what valentino did to his enemies! it's not like that aspect of vale was some kind of closely guarded secret; it was like a top three valentino rossi talking point for years and years. (part of the subtext of assen 2015 is marc not really enjoying being on the receiving end of one of those classic valentino scam wins, when marc had been intending to do that to valentino.) again, those overtakes of valentino's weren't just famous because they were cool, they were famous because they helped valentino fuck with his rivals. it's not just about emulating his on-track aggression, it's about emulating how valentino did his best to get in his rivals' heads. when we talk about marc 'being a fan' of valentino, then it shouldn't be ignored that this involved marc being a fan of what an absolute and utter asshole valentino was. and like with all things relating to valentino, I'd wager marc has pretty complicated feelings about this. at the end of the day that's also part of his make up as a rider... but it also really burnt him personally...

it's almost like an identification thing, isn't it. if you're marc and you're thinking about valentino's past rivalries, whose shoes are you placing yourself in? in many ways it should be valentino's rivals, because of course some of their experiences mirror marc's. and there's a rare moment in the winter of 2015, when he's still in the process of trying to make sense of everything that's happened, where he does make the connection. but apart from that, he's shied away from it - even when he's criticising valentino, he's generally not framing what valentino did to marc as indicative of some broader character flaw. it's casey and jorge who explicitly make that link, not marc. he's still kind of... idk, separating that out. obviously, marc would far rather be valentino's successor than another one of valentino's victims, even if he hasn't really been given a choice in the matter and has ended up being both. I don't really have any evidence to back this up, but my guess is that deep down he feels like what valentino did to him was different from what he did to those other guys. and in some ways he's right and in some ways he's wrong

unfortunate, isn't it. you're a fan of somebody with a reputation for fucking with his enemies, which is fun and neat and you kinda want to copy how he does it - maybe put your own spin on the whole thing but you're still into the general vibe. you enter the sport at a time when you can still fight your hero, but he's kinda washed and he's too old to be starting new feuds (*bzzzzt!!* incorrect! you are never too old to start feuds) so there's no real danger. and you share a bond you think on some level is different from whatever those other guys had going on, even sete gibernau, whoever tf that is. and then you become real rivals and realise how extremely not enjoyable it is to be losing to him yourself and you really want to show him and maybe you do push it a little far along the way. but it'll be okay. it's all fine... until he decides it's time to destroy you. and on one level you do obviously see the parallels because you're not an idiot... but on the other hand, none of that stuff, none of what he did to those other guys - it wasn't ever going to stop you from being a fan of his. it's the bits he did to you that are the problem. and at the end of the day, you'll never quite be able to let go of the twelve year old boy inside of you who found jerez 2005 really, really cool

anyway

[winxanity-ii]

FATHER, FORGIVE ME

ship: father charlie x fem!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 ( oral sex/f. receiving; overstimulation; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery ) word count: 4.1k a/n: ahhh….I just want to say I'm so thrilled with all the love and support for the mini Devotion series! It means the world to me to see you guys enjoying it as much as I do. And a huge thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday! I got drunk asf, and here's the rough draft I made while tipsy, lolol. Hope you all enjoy~ 😈✨..

★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You wouldn't say you were a bad person.

Selfish? Maybe. Impulsive? Absolutely. But "bad" seemed a bit of a stretch.

It's just that, when you saw something you wanted, you didn't hesitate to take it—and, honestly, you had no regrets. Not until now, at least.

Sitting here, surrounded by the smell of old hymn books and dusty incense, listening to some wrinkly old man in a white robe drone on about salvation.

The whole thing was your mother's doing. She had this recurring phase, like clockwork, where she'd get bitten by the "Bible bug."

For a few weeks every year, she was the most devoted Catholic you'd ever seen. She'd call, text, guilt-trip—anything to get her kids back on the straight and narrow, even if just for a Sunday morning.

For the last seven years, you'd managed to dodge it. Moved out at eighteen and never looked back, leaving the duty of church attendance to your three other siblings.

Usually, someone would take one for the team and tag along with Mom until her enthusiasm fizzled out again. But this time, it seemed your luck had run dry—your sister had finally roped you in, and here you were, seven-year streak shattered.

You sighed deeply, eyes half-lidded as they flicked across the stained glass windows—all those saints staring down at you in judgment.

You couldn't help but think of all the things you could be doing right now. Sleeping, for one. Your bed sounded like heaven compared to the hard pew beneath you.

Or brunch with your friends—mimosas and laughter, not these monotone chants and the faint smell of mothballs.

Hell, you could've called Kevin over and gotten dicked down instead of dealing with this—

Your thoughts screeched to a halt, slamming against an unexpected sight.

The old priest, the one whose croaky voice was practically white noise at this point, stepped away from the pulpit. In his place was someone else—someone younger, someone whose presence commanded attention.

A man, tall, dark hair neatly combed back, with a crisp black cassock that hugged his broad shoulders just right. He moved with a sense of ease, like he belonged up there.

And damn, was he handsome. Handsome enough to pull your focus completely, which was a feat in itself given the circumstances.

Your eyes tracked him as he approached the podium, his voice replacing the rasping chant of the old priest. It was smooth, warm, resonant. Nothing like the man you remembered from years ago.

He spoke about community, faith, redemption—but all you could think was how someone like him ended up in a place like this.

You found yourself leaning forward, just slightly, as if drawn in by some invisible force. Your irritation melted away, replaced by a strange curiosity.

Maybe… maybe this wouldn't be the worst way to spend a Sunday after all.

The priest stood quietly at the altar, his figure framed by the soft light filtering through the stained glass windows. A faint scar traced its way down the right side of his forehead, a mark that spoke of some unknown hardship or past misadventure.

He was youthful but with the stillness of someone who’d seen enough to understand patience and humility.

With each breath, the man seemed grounded in his presence, shoulders relaxed but broad, the fabric of his robe resting comfortably against his chest.

His appearance was almost angelic, yet the subtle scar and the weight in his eyes hinted at something more complex beneath the surface—a man of God, perhaps, but one who had walked through fire to find his faith.

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow in appreciation as you stared at the handsome man up there. You leaned over a bit to your mother, eyes never straying from his figure. "Ma, who's that? Is he new?" you whispered to your mother.

She looked up from her phone, Candy Crush flashing on her screen. You silenced the snort that wanted to come out. Looked like she might retire from church early this year, you thought to yourself, seeing her early signs of disengaging.

She glanced up at the front, giving a quick look before going back to her game. "That's Father Charlie Mayhew. He was brought in about two or three years ago, I think," she murmured absently, barely paying attention.

Father Charlie.

You watched as he spoke, his voice strong yet gentle, his eyes sweeping over the congregation with a genuine warmth. He wasn't like the old priest—this one seemed to genuinely care, as if each word held weight.

You wondered if that scar came from something dramatic, some story worth knowing. Your gaze lingered, taking in the slope of his shoulders, the way his lips moved with each word. Something about him felt... magnetic.

You found yourself sitting up straighter when the two of you made eye contact—he blinked, his words stumbling just slightly, a brief hitch in his otherwise smooth delivery. "I, uh... I apologize," he stuttered, looking off to the side, the tips of his ears turning pink.

You caught the way his eyes shifted nervously, almost as if he was trying to regain his footing. It was subtle, but you could see it—the way he tried to pull himself back together, to get through the rest of the sermon without any more disruptions.

He cleared his throat to continue, "As I was saying... uh, the importance of faith in our lives cannot be overstated. We must always strive to, um, to do what is right, even when it's difficult..." His voice trailed off slightly, but he managed to steady himself, his eyes avoiding yours as he focused on the rest of the congregation.

It made something stir in you, a mix of curiosity and amusement.

You bit down gently on your lower glossed lip, eyes trailing over his form, taking in every subtle detail. The way his hands gripped the edge of the podium, the faint flush creeping up his neck—it was all so telling.

He seemed innocent, reactive.

You smiled to yourself, letting your gaze linger as he continued, noting the way he seemed to avoid looking in your direction now, as if afraid that another glance might trip him up again.

Maybe you should pay a visit to Father Charlie—see if you could break that serene composure of his.

You could already imagine it—the way he might tense up under your touch, the way his voice might crack if you whispered something just a bit too forward.

The thought alone made your heart race, anticipation bubbling up inside you, like something in you just knew—he'd be fun to unravel.

You leaned back in your seat, a slow, satisfied smile playing on your lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

The sermon ended with a quiet murmur of 'Amen' from the congregation, followed by the gentle shuffle of people rising from the pews.

You glanced around, watching as people slowly made their way to the exits, some stopping to chat while others lingered near the back of the church.

The old priest was nowhere to be seen, but Father Charlie remained, standing at the front as he spoke softly to a small group of parishioners.

Your mother, of course, made a beeline for him. You heard her voice carrying over the hushed conversations, gushing about how moving today’s sermon was.

You rolled your eyes, unable to help yourself, and slowly rose to your feet, making your way over with an almost lazy stride.

As you approached, you could see your mother perk up, her eyes lighting up as she turned to you. "Oh, there she is! Father Charlie, this is my youngest, ____." She gestured towards you, her hand lightly resting on your arm to pull you closer. "You've met my other children over the years."

You could see the change in Father Charlie almost instantly. His posture shifted, his back straightening just a little more, his eyes rounding as they landed on you. He seemed almost like an eager puppy, his gaze bright and attentive.

He quickly pulled his eyes away, turning back to your mother with a polite smile as he nodded. "Yes, I remember," he said, his voice a touch softer. Then he turned to you, his eyes meeting yours as he gave you a gentle smile. "It's nice to finally meet you. I don't think I've seen you here before... ?"

Your mother gave a sort of laughing scoff, waving him off as she caught his attention again. She chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, Father, the day she willingly comes to church without an incentive is the day the devil is welcomed back into Heaven's gates."

You kept your eyes on Father Charlie, a small smile tugging at your lips as you tilted your head slightly. "Maybe I just hadn't found a good enough reason to come before," you said, your gaze locked on his, your voice light but carrying a hint of something more.

His eyes widened just a little, and you watched as a faint blush spread across his cheeks, his lips parting slightly as he blinked, clearly caught off guard.

Before he could say anything, your mother’s name was called from behind. It was one of her church friends, and in an instant, she was off, waving a quick goodbye and leaving you standing there in front of Father Charlie.

You didn't waste a second, taking a daring step forward, your eyes fixed on him. "So..." you said, letting your gaze roam over him before meeting his eyes again. "You seem awfully young to be running a church like this. I have to say, I'm impressed."

He looked bashful, glancing down for a moment before looking back up at you. "Oh, well, thank you. I just... I do my best," he said, his voice soft, the pink on his cheeks deepening.

You smiled, tilting your head just slightly. "Do you do one-on-one sessions, like other churches do?" you asked, your voice carrying a hint of mischief.

He blinked, clearly confused for a moment, before his eyes widened in realization. "Oh, you mean confessionals?" He nodded quickly, his expression shifting back to something more serious. "Yes, I do. In fact, I was planning on doing confessionals later today, after the services. Not many people take me up on it, but I think it's important to always offer the option."

"Oh, really?" you said, letting your voice drop just a bit, your head tilting to the side as you watched him. You let a small smile curve your lips, your gaze never leaving his. "Well, you wouldn't mind if I came to see you and... confessed, would you, Father?"

He stuttered, his blush deepening as he quickly nodded. "N-No, of course not. You're more than welcome to come by, anytime," he said, his voice a bit shaky.

You smirked, giving him a nod. "Perfect," you said, your voice smooth, before turning on your heel and walking away, back towards where your mother was waiting.

You could feel his gaze on you the entire time, the weight of his eyes almost burning into your back. And you loved it.

This really was going to be fun.

The church grew quieter as the service officially ended, people slowly trickling out while you lingered, waiting for your moment.

Eventually, you made your way to the confessional booth, the small wooden space feeling cramped as you settled in. The air was close, the scent of polished wood and incense hanging heavy.

You could hear Father Charlie shuffling on the other side, the sound of the door closing behind him, the rustle of fabric as he got seated.

You took a breath, letting the silence stretch for a moment before you began. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..." you said, your voice soft, but there was an edge to it that you couldn't quite hide.

There was a pause before you heard him clear his throat, his voice coming through the small screen that separated you. "The Lord is always ready to forgive. Please, tell me your sins, my child."

You sighed, leaning back slightly, your fingers brushing against the hem of your dress. "I fear I desire a man that is just out of my reach," you said, your voice carrying a hint of frustration. "It's wrong for me to want him... but I can't seem to help myself."

There was a moment of silence, and you could almost picture the look on his face—concerned, earnest, wanting to help. His voice was gentle as he responded. "Desire can be difficult to control, but it is not inherently sinful. It is what we choose to do with that desire that matters. You must pray for guidance, ask for strength... and remember that God understands our struggles."

You hummed softly, your eyes half-lidded as you listened to him, but your mind was drifting. His voice was soothing, and you found yourself imagining what it would be like if things were different.

If there wasn't a screen between you.

If you could reach out, touch him, feel that innocence melt away under your fingers.

Your hand trailed down your side, your fingers brushing over your thigh as you let out a soft sigh.

His voice cut through your thoughts, sounding a bit uncertain. "Sister ____... are you alright? Do you hear me?"

You smiled to yourself, your mind made up. You leaned closer to the screen, your voice dropping to a near whisper. "Father," you began, your tone coy, "I must confess... I find it difficult to focus when you're speaking. You have such a... soothing voice."

His breath caught audibly, and you could almost hear the way he was struggling to gather himself. "W-What do you mean, sister?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, laced with confusion.

"It makes me think... sinful thoughts."

You could hear the slight hitch in his breath, the rustle of fabric as he shifted. "S-sister," he stammered, clearly taken aback. "This... this is not appropriate."

You ignored his protest, your voice growing softer, more intimate. "You know, Father, I've always heard that confession is good for the soul. And right now... I think there's only one thing that could truly absolve me of these desires." You let the words hang in the air, knowing exactly what you were implying.

"Sister, this... this isn't..." His voice was shaky now, the uncertainty clear. "I don't think—"

"Come get me, Father," you whispered, your tone daring, challenging him. "You wouldn't leave me like this, would you?"

There was silence for a long moment, and then you heard it—the slow shuffling as he moved. The sound of his door opening, the soft creak of the confessional booth as he stepped out.

You pushed your own door open, stepping out into the dimly lit church. Father Charlie was standing there, his head downcast, his face flushed a deep red. He looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came out, his eyes flickering up to meet yours before darting away again.

You took a step towards him, your movements slow, deliberate—like a predator closing in on its prey. His breath hitched as you approached, his shoulders tensing. He cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sister, I... this isn't right. We shouldn't—"

You reached out, your fingers brushing against the front of his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch. You let your hand slide down, your voice a low purr. "Father," you purred, your eyes locking onto his, "I want you to take me somewhere... push me to a higher calling, yeah?"

His eyes widened, the pupils dilating as he stared at you, his lips parting in shock. For a moment, he seemed frozen, and then, almost as if the word was pulled from him, he whispered, "Okay..."

His hand was trembling slightly as he reached for yours, and you let him lead you out of the main church area, his eyes flicking nervously around to make sure no one was watching. He led you down a dim hallway, stopping at a small door that opened into a cramped janitor's closet.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, you were on him.

You pushed him back against the wall, your lips crashing against his. He gasped, and you took advantage, licking into his mouth, tasting the hint of mint on his tongue as a low groan rumbled from your throat. His hands hesitated for a moment before resting on your waist, his touch light, unsure.

You deepened the kiss, feeling the way he shivered beneath your touch, your hands pushing up under his cassock, fingers skimming over the hard lines of his abdomen. His muscles tensed under your fingertips, a shudder running through him as he let out a shaky breath.

You pulled back, just enough to see his face in the low light, and he chased your lips, leaning forward as if he couldn't stand the sudden loss of contact.

You let out a dark chuckle, your hands coming up to cup his flushed cheeks, squeezing gently. His face was a deep shade of red, his eyes half-lidded, his breath coming in short, uneven pants. He looked almost dazed, completely overwhelmed, and it only made your smile widen.

Your thumb grazed over his plump bottom lip, pressing gently before dipping just inside his mouth. His eyes fluttered, his tongue flicking out hesitantly to brush against your thumb before retreating. You let out a soft sigh, a hint of a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "Oh?" you murmured, raising an eyebrow, your gaze fixed on him.

Charlie swallowed hard, his eyes locked onto yours, his breathing ragged. You stepped closer, rising onto your tiptoes, your lips just barely grazing his as you spoke. "You did so well during the sermon, Father," you whispered, your voice low and dripping with suggestion. "It makes me wonder... what could such a blessed mouth do somewhere else?"

His breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly, but he didn’t pull away. You gripped his shoulder, your fingers digging in just enough to make him shiver, and tugged him downwards. "On your knees," you said, your tone commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.

Slowly, almost as if in a trance, Charlie sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze was filled with a mix of confusion, desire, and something almost like reverence, and it sent a thrill through you.

You watched as he knelt before you, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that knew this was wrong, that wanted to resist—but the desire was stronger, and he couldn't bring himself to stop.

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair, your touch surprisingly gentle. "That's it," you murmured, your voice softening just a fraction. "Such a good Father... doing exactly what you're told."

You took a step back, your eyes never leaving his as you moved to the nearest wall, leaning against it comfortably.

With slow, deliberate movements, your hands reached down, unzipping your mini skirt and letting it slide down your legs, pooling around your ankles. You made a show of it, your fingers tracing along your thighs, sliding over your hips, and letting out a soft sigh as you watched him.

Charlie's eyes widened, his gaze following every movement, his lips parted, his breath catching in his throat. The flush on his face deepened, his eyes locked onto you with something like awe, mingled with pure, unfiltered desire.

You smirked, lifting one hand and curling your fingers in a come-hither motion. He hesitated only for a moment before slowly beginning to crawl towards you, his eyes never breaking away from yours.

The sight sent a thrill through you, a shiver of excitement running up your spine. He reached you, his hands carefully coming up to rest on your legs, his touch light, almost reverent.

His fingers traced along your calves, moving upwards with a hesitant slowness that made you release a shaky sigh, your back arching slightly as his touch grew bolder.

His hands were trembling as they reached your hips, his fingers brushing against the edge of your underwear. He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking up to meet yours as if silently asking for permission.

You gave a small nod, and he let out a shaky breath, his fingers hooking into the waistband and slowly slipping your underwear down, his eyes fixed on you the entire time.

Once they were off, he shifted closer, his breath ghosting over your bare skin. He surprised you by gently lifting one of your legs, settling it over his shoulder as he pulled you closer, his face inches away from your most intimate parts.

He let out a deep, almost pornographic groan as he leaned in, taking a slow, deep breath, as if breathing you in. The sound sent a jolt through you, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Charlie looked up at you one more time, his eyes searching, as if asking for final permission.

You smiled, your fingers sliding through his hair before giving a gentle but firm scratch along his scalp, your silent approval. He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh before leaning in.

At first, his movements were hesitant, his tongue slipping out to give an experimental swipe. He was sloppy, uncoordinated, his lack of experience clear, but there was a determination in the way he moved, as if desperate to please.

You let out a soft hum, the sound encouraging him, and he grew a little more confident, his tongue pressing more firmly. He licked a long stripe up, his tongue swirling at the top, and you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

"That's it, Father," you murmured, your voice a soft purr. "You're doing such a good job."

The praise seemed to light something in him, a low groan vibrating against you as he pushed in closer. The sound made you gasp, your back arching slightly as the vibrations sent a rush of pleasure through you, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He grew bolder, his tongue delving deeper, slipping inside you as he began to eat you out like a man starved. He was messy, the wet sounds filling the small space, his lips and tongue moving with increasing fervor, as if the more he tasted, the more he craved.

He bullied his tongue into you, his nose brushing against you as he lost himself in the act, his hands gripping your hips tightly, holding you against him as he worked.

You bit down on your lower lip, trying to keep quiet, but the soft, wet sounds filled the small space, making it impossible to ignore.

Your hand moved up, your teeth sinking into the back of it as you stifled a moan, your thighs trembling as he continued. His tongue moved with determination, pressing deeper, swirling before retreating, then focusing on your most sensitive spot.

When his lips closed around your clit, giving a particularly hard suck, your vision blurred, and stars burst behind your eyelids. Your back arched, your body pressing against his face as the waves of pleasure rolled over you, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Your thighs shook as you slowly came down, your body relaxing slightly against the wall. You let out a shaky breath, your fingers still tangled in his hair, tugging gently. You gave Charlie a small shove, pushing him back just enough.

He hesitated, his tongue giving one last languid lick, followed by a reluctant suck before he finally pulled away, his lips glistening, his breath coming in low, heavy pants. His bottom face was a mess, his eyes half-lidded, dazed as he looked up at you.

You leaned down, your fingers cupping the bottom of his face, your thumb brushing over his flushed cheek as you gave him a swift peck on the corner of his lips. He blinked, his eyes widening slightly, a blush deepening across his face.

Straightening up, you reached down, picking up your discarded thong, folding it neatly before slipping it into the pocket of his cassock. He stared at you, his lips parted, his breathing still uneven.

"Thank you, Father~" you purred, your voice dripping with satisfaction. You watched as his blush deepened even more, his eyes darting away from yours. "You know," you continued, your tone teasing, "I might just have to come back for confession more often."

He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours, a mix of confusion and something darker swirling in them. You smiled, giving him a wink before turning on your heel, striding out of the closet, leaving him kneeling there, his breath still shaky, his face still flushed.

As you walked away, a satisfied smile playing on your lips, you couldn't help but think that maybe church wasn't going to be so bad after all.

A/N: hehehe, dont mind me, just wanted to see charlie's and y/n relationship in reversal...

[pin-k-ink]

UNDER ONE ROOF ⋆✦⋆ kuroo tetsurou

synopsis ➸ kuroo didn’t know what he was agreeing to when he said yes to watching over you for two weeks. now, with you constantly coming onto him, he’s quickly realizing how hard it is to say no—and how much he doesn’t want to.

tags ➸ dílf!kuroo, huge age gap (20s + 40s), unhèalthy relationship dynamics, manipùlation, reader is a huge brat and she will get on your nerves, brat tamer!kuroo, mastúrbation (m & f), jealousy, possèssive behavior, dírty talking, gròping, heavy pétting, manhándling, mention of an injúry, degradàtion, slút-shàming, dry hùmping, unprotected séx, marathon séx, face fućking, bloŵjob, squírting, beggíng

wc ➸ 20.6k (i’m so sorry 💀)

"Dad, I'll be fine. You're overreacting as usual." You struggled to keep the exasperation out of your tone as Kenma pulled up to Kuroo's apartment complex.

Kenma killed the engine but kept a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. "I'm not overreacting. I'm being realistic based on your...track record." His jaw clenched minutely before continuing. "Just promise me you'll exercise some semblance of self-control this time?"

You pursed your lips, refraining from an outright eye roll. "It wasn't that big of a deal, okay? A few too many people at my place, that's all."

The flat, unamused look Kenma leveled your way made you shrink back slightly. "Neighbors had to call the police to break up your 'few too many people,' and I had to bail you out after they found you...indecently exposed with two random guys. Again."

Heat crept up the back of your neck at the reminder. In your defense, you'd been severely intoxicated and those two strangers had been very persuasive...and enthusiastic. Not that your father wanted to hear any of the details, based on the muscle ticking in his jaw.

"Look, that's why I'm leaving you with Kuroo this time," he pressed on, voice taking on that no-nonsense edge. "He'll keep you in line until I get back from this business trip. No promiscuous behavior, no binge drinking, nothing that could jeopardize your future."

Your fists clenched at the insinuation you were just some reckless, irresponsible child who needed constant supervision. Yes, maybe you enjoyed letting loose a bit more than most well-behaved college students. But you were an adult, damn it! Perfectly capable of looking after yourself without strict babysitting.

Before you could unleash the sharp retort burning on your tongue, there was a rap on the window. Kuroo's laidback grin appeared in the glass as he waggled his fingers in greeting.

"Ah, right on time! Was starting to worry you two had bailed on me," he chuckled, eyes crinkling in that easygoing way you'd always adored.

You seized the opportunity to exit the car before further lecturing could commence. Kuroo pulled you into one of his trademark bear hugs once you were vertical, squeezing with affectionate zeal.

"Took you long enough to get here, troublemaker," he murmured fondly into your hair. "Was starting to think I'd have to stay bored and lonely without my best girl around."

A pleasant shiver danced along your nape at the husky timbre of his voice so close to your ear. Kuroo had always been an indulgent, affectionate presence in your life - a welcome counterbalance to Kenma's frequently stern parenting. Growing up, you'd often admired the easy charisma and confidence your father’s best friend exuded. Part of you wondered, in a distant, abstract way, what it might be like to bask in that roguish charm aimed at you directly...

You quickly banished the stray thought, burying your face into Kuroo's solid chest instead as his arms tightened further. "Don't be so clingy, old man. I'll only be here for a couple weeks."

Behind you, the driver's side door creaked open, signaling Kenma's arrival. Kuroo tossed your father a grin over your head, not loosening his hold on you in the slightest.

"Ah, there's the doting dad now! C'mon, we can continue the lecture inside over some beers." His eyes danced with undisguised amusement as Kenma bristled slightly at the jab.

"Very funny, Kuroo," Kenma muttered, mouth set in a flat line. "But I do need to lay down some ground rules if she's staying with you for a while."

You extricated yourself from Kuroo's snug embrace, stepping back and crossing your arms over your chest defiantly as Kenma stepped closer. The tension between the two best friends thrummed familiarly - Kuroo radiating easy humor while Kenma maintained stern disapproval.

Your dad took a steadying breath before fixing you with a level stare. "I'm serious about this. You are not to throw any parties, end up in compromising positions with strangers, or make any unilateral decisions that could derail your education-"

"Oh my god, Dad!" The whine escaped before you could stop it. "I'm an adult, not a misbehaving toddler! When are you going to start treating me that way?"

Kenma opened his mouth, eyes flashing dangerously, but Kuroo quickly moved to insert himself between you both. His hands landed on your shoulders, calm yet firm, pulling your heated focus to him.

"Now now, you two, let's not jump straight into argument mode so soon. We'll have plenty of time to bicker later." He shot you a wink before shifting his gaze to Kenma. "I've got this under control. I know exactly how to keep our little hellraiser in line without killing her spirit."

Kenma stared at his friend, a thousand unspoken retorts flickering behind his eyes. You could practically see his inner monologue debating whether he could truly trust the two of you alone together for an extended period. At last, a weary sigh slipped past his lips.

"Fine, I'm putting my faith in you, Kuroo. For now." He leveled you with one final, intense stare that made you want to squirm. "But any misbehavior at all and I'm sending in reinforcements, understood?"

Whether he meant to hire an actual bodyguard or simply sick your mother on you, the threat was painfully clear. You nodded tersely, holding Kenma's gaze and refusing to be the first to look away. A battle of wills you were determined not to lose, if only to prove how much of an "adult" you were.

At last, Kuroo chuckled and slung a companionable arm around your shoulders, breaking the weighted tension between you and your father. "See? All settled! Now how about you head out and let me get my quality niece-uncle bonding time in before she gets sick of me?"

Though the sarcastic jibe brought a faint smirk to Kenma's lips, you could tell his dubious hesitation lingered. Nevertheless, your father stepped forward to enfold you in a tight hug, one you returned fiercely despite your earlier exasperation.

Kenma pulled away first, squeezing your shoulder and studying your features carefully. "Stay out of trouble. Please? For me?"

You mustered up your most reassuring smile, leaning in to peck his cheek lightly. "I'll be a perfect angel, Daddy. I promise."

The obvious lie should have rankled more than it did. But Kenma simply sighed and shook his head in resignation, adjusting his grasp on his travel bag as he prepared to depart.

"I'll hold you to that. Behave for Kuroo and...and I'll see what souvenir I can find for you in Italy..."

His muttered bribe brought an inadvertent grin to your lips as Kuroo ushered you back toward the apartment with a theatrical bow and exaggerated flourish of his free arm.

"And so the bonding festivities commence! C'mon troublemaker, prepare for the best girls' staycation your hot single uncle can provide!"

Kuroo's playful declaration had you rolling your eyes so hard they threatened to relocate. "Hot single uncle? Seriously? That's just creepy on so many levels."

He shrugged unapologetically, steering you through the lobby with his arm still slung around your shoulders. "What? I'm hot, I'm single, and while not technically related by blood, I'm about as close to an uncle as you've got."

You pulled a face of exaggerated disgust. "Please don't ever call yourself my uncle again. That's like...an instant boner-killer."

Kuroo's barking laughter echoed through the small space, and you grinned despite yourself. There was something innately infectious about his easy charm and rapscallion energy. "Wow, damn! Way to just completely obliterate any sense of family-friendly bonding, kiddo."

"Don't call me kiddo either," you retorted as the elevator doors slid open with a chime. "I'll be twenty-two next month, remember? Not exactly a child anymore."

You could feel the heat of Kuroo's assessing stare sliding over you, just on the periphery of your vision. The casual rake of it made you sit up fractionally straighter, all too aware of how your low-cut shirt gapped to reveal hints of cleavage from this angle.

"Oh trust me, I'm well aware you're not a kid anymore," he murmured, the undercurrent to his tone giving you pause.

But when you glanced over at him, Kuroo's expression was as impassively playful as ever. Not a single lascivious hitch to indicate he might have been venturing into more suggestive waters...which, of course, was precisely where your own thoughts had begun meandering unbidden.

The elevator dinged your arrival at Kuroo's floor, and he ushered you out ahead of him with a hand pressing warmth to the small of your back. The hallway blurred past in a vague tableau of drab carpeting and nondescript doors until he was guiding you into the first one off the small entry corridor.

You turned in a slow circle as Kuroo flipped on the lights, taking in the surprisingly spacious guest suite. Abstract art prints lined the walls, lending a vibrant splash of color amidst the black furniture and modern fixtures.

"Not too shabby," you remarked, lifting an impressed brow Kuroo's way. "Not what I pictured at all for a washed-up old man with no wife or life."

Kuroo scoffed in faux-offense, tossing the small duffel of clothes Kenma had packed for you onto the plush queen bed. "First off, I'm only fourty-six, brat. Second, I'll have you know this place is basically an Adonis' palace where all the finest honeys flock."

You quirked a dubious eyebrow, gaze deliberately sweeping over the space with exaggerated appraisal. "Right, 'cause I can totally see you whipping out those cheesy lines while trying to seduce some poor girl back here."

Before you could evade, Kuroo closed the distance and yanked you flush against his chest in a grip far more sensual than the earlier hug. You inhaled sharply at the sudden intimate proximity, meeting his intense stare from beneath your lashes. Kuroo smelled of sandalwood and peppery musk, a scent that was bafflingly more intoxicating than you'd ever noticed.

"Who says I'd need lines other than the truth?" He murmured, voice pitched low enough to ghost tingles down your nape. "Why go for cheesy when 'I want you' works just as well in the right tone?"

Your mouth felt abruptly parched, throat clicking in a tight swallow you couldn't quite stifle. The steady thrum of Kuroo's heart against your own fluttering pulse made you hyperconsciously aware of the lack of space between your bodies. The hard wall of his chest, the sinuous strength of his arms bracketing you against him, the faint tickle of his breath against your brow...

You rallied yourself with visible effort, putting on a show of extracting yourself from his arms and rolling your eyes in dismissal. "Wow, Kuroo, can't take you anywhere without the bachelor desperation vibes taking over," you chided with an airy laugh. "Good thing any girl with half a brain knows your bark is way worse than that impotent bite of yours."

Kuroo snorted, clearly unfazed by the brush-off. "Ouch, that hurts coming from my favorite companion." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the hallway. "C'mon, I'll give you the full penthouse tour while the slander is fresh."

As you followed him out, you couldn't resist one final flustered jab. "Please, do not refer to me as your 'companion' ever again. I don't need those gross old-man vibes getting all over me."

But even as the teasing counters continued flowing freely between you, brimming with practiced ease and playful brio, a newfound undercurrent seemed to lace each exchange. There was a thrilling energy now, veins of irresistible temptation and tension brimming just beneath the surface.

You found your gaze continually straying to trace the lines of Kuroo's body in ways it never had before. Mapping the shift of firm muscle and masculine definition barely concealed beneath his fitted t-shirt. Fixating on the sharp hollow of his throat each time he tilted his head back in unrestrained laughter. Drinking in the ruggedly handsome contours of his face as if seeing them for the very first time through the lens of burgeoning desire rather than familial fondness.

And from the heated glances you continually intercepted raking over your own frame, Kuroo seemed equally as preoccupied with thoroughly appreciating the woman you'd matured into, absently licking his lips whenever you turned away. Almost as if he too were acutely, viscerally aware of the new precedents being set between you.

Still, when you wandered back to flop gracelessly onto your temporary bed with a contented sigh, Kuroo knew better than to allow things to escalate too precipitously. One broad palm landed atop your head, smoothing your tumbled hair back from your forehead with an endearment more akin to an indulgent older brother than anything else.

You shot him a sly look from beneath your lashes, immediately recognizing this for what it was - Kuroo's subtle attempt to steer you both back into familiar, innocuous territory before the simmering undercurrents got away from you.

Well, two could play at that game.

With a put-upon huff, you rolled onto your back, deliberately arching your spine in an indolent stretch that made your shirt ride up to bare a sliver of toned midriff. You caught the telltale stutter in Kuroo's breathing, the way his heated stare latched onto the newly exposed stretch of skin like a magnet.

Slowly, methodically, you trailed your fingertips along the taut vee of muscles just visible beneath the hem of your top. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips in a show of exaggerated absentmindedness as you continued trailing indolent circles around your navel.

"Mmm, you know..." you murmured, letting your voice drop into a lower, sultrily purring register that had Kuroo's undivided attention snapping back to your face. "I could use a little...stress relief after Dad's interrogation out there."

You punctuated the blatant invitation with another tantalizing arch of your spine, pushing your breasts higher and straining against the thin fabric. A calculated glance slanted his way revealed Kuroo swallowing hard, looking distinctly like a man warring with his baser instincts.

"I'm sure we could find a fun way for us both to unwind after he put me through the wringer," you pressed, tracing patterns lower, dangerously closer to the button of your too-tight shorts. "Work off all that...heated tension before you call me out for dinner?"

Kuroo's nostrils flared as his jaw went rigid, and for a breathless heartbeat, you were certain he would finally succumb. That the carnal need simmering behind those sharp hazel eyes would win out over restraint and detonate between your tangled forms here and now. Your blood thrummed with peaky arousal, entire body liquid heat and tightly-coiled anticipation.

But then Kuroo expelled a low, rueful chuckle and the spell was broken. He raked one broad palm through the artful disarray of his hair, regarding you with an undeniable glint of dark amusement that only fuelled your petulance.

"Nice try, kiddo," he husked, the low timbre sending unwanted tingles rocketing through you. "But you're gonna have to work harder to unravel me with those moves. Not my first time fending off your wiles, remember?"

Your lips twisted in a pout you knew full well drew his gaze inexorably. "Maybe I don't want to just fend you off," you retorted, hoping the petulant whine in your tone conveyed precisely how turned on you were feeling. "Maybe this time, getting you riled up is the entire point."

Kuroo's brows winged higher as his gaze openly raked over your splayed form once more. This time, his yearning appraisal brought tingles of wicked satisfaction rather than self-consciousness.

"Trust me, gorgeous," he managed at last, voice gone tellingly husky. "Part of me would love nothing more than showing you just how riled you've gotten me. But we both know how that story has to end – with your dad hunting me down and gelding me within an inch of my life."

Your mouth opened to formulate a retort - a scathing denial of your tame, saintly reputation that had Kenma forever playing over-protective warden. But Kuroo didn't give you the chance to voice it.

One broad, calloused palm cupped your cheek with surprising tenderness, the rough pads of his fingers trailing sparks against your suddenly oversensitized skin. You felt the air leave your lungs in a harsh exhalation, held paralyzed beneath the searing, unguarded intensity of Kuroo's molten stare.

"So as tempting as you look," he rasped in that low, wrecked timbre that shot liquid heat arrowing through your core, "I'm not about to jeopardize what we've got over one round of pent-up games, yeah?"

Something inside you clenched at the implicit reminder – no matter what sinfully delicious tension existed between you, Kuroo still saw himself as almost family at the end of the day. He would never actually cross that forbidden line, no matter how persistently you tempted and goaded.

The realization flooded you with an odd blend of yearning, frustration, and reluctant respect for his restraint. You opened your mouth to spit out whatever caustic retort might help preserve your carefully cultivated blasé front-

"Tell you what," Kuroo pressed on before you could marshal the words, his thumb tracing a searing path along the plump bow of your lower lip in a blatantly intimate caress. "You promise to stow that wicked mouth and insatiable appetites of yours for the rest of the evening? And I'll take you shopping tomorrow night, just the two of us."

Your breath hitched audibly as he leaned closer still, heated exhalation gusting against the sensitized whorls of your ear to send delicious tingles arrowing straight to your core.

"Show me you can be an honest-to-god good girl for once, and I'll give you a grand adventure worth staying out of trouble for..."

With that sinful promise dangling tantalizingly in the air, Kuroo pulled back, lips curved in that same roguish smirk yet now laced with the undisguised promise of rewards still to come. He regarded you through heavy-lidded bedroom eyes, blatantly awaiting your breathless capitulation or further, fruitless temptation.

Your chest heaved with sharp, ragged pants you couldn't quite stifle. With tremendous effort of will, you kept your rebuttals and wanton offers leashed, refusing to give him any further cause to refuse your attempts at seduction outright. Not when the carrot of some unknown indulgence dangled so enticingly above you.

Eventually, Kuroo seemed satisfied by your mute surrender. He dipped his chin, lips brushing your fevered brow in a shockingly tender brand of possession and benediction.

"Good girl," he murmured in a hoarse growl that had your core musculature fluttering anew. "Put this behind us for now, and I promise you'll get everything you've been craving later..."

With one final searing caress that felt burned into the curve of your flushed cheek long after he retreated, Kuroo turned and made his way out of the guest suite. Leaving you a hot, shaky mess of thwarted need and simmering what ifs that felt poised to burst into searing reality sooner rather than later – even if he wouldn't be so easily taken before then.

As Kuroo moved about the kitchen preparing dinner, his thoughts were utterly consumed by the simmering tension now charging the air between you and him. He couldn't tear his mind away from replaying your bold attempts at seduction earlier, or how painfully tempting you'd looked splayed out so wantonly on the guest bed.

His hands stilled on the cutting board, knife poised over half-chopped vegetables as Kuroo's gaze went hazy with recollection. The way your shirt had ridden up to tease at soft midriff and the teasing vee of your hips. The subtle roll of your spine as you arched into an indolent stretch - so calculated yet seemingly artless in its invitation. And that come-hither rasp of your voice dropping into unrepentant sin, offering searing delights Kuroo shouldn't even entertain indulging.

A harsh exhalation gusted past his lips as desire, so cruelly reawakened yet stubbornly restrained, gave a sullen throb low in his groin. Kuroo couldn't deny being utterly transfixed when you turned your wiles on him like that. Some deep, primal part of him yearned to surrender - to take you up on that scorching proposal and show you exactly how "riled" you'd gotten him all these years with the slow burn of your teasing.

In his mind's eye, Kuroo easily pictured stalking back over to crouch above your reclined form, pinning your wrists to the mattress on either side of your head. He'd drink in every molten inch of you spread wantonly before him, from the sheen of exertion and arousal glazing your skin to the impudent quirk of your lips as you challenged him to make good on unvoiced threats.

Kuroo could practically taste the erotic potential crackling between your barely parted forms. All it would take was one decisive roll of his hips to grind his cock against your cloth-dampened heat. You'd stifle a strangled sound of yearning, back arching greedily to chase that first forbidden frisson—

"Tetsurou?"

The sound of his given name on your lips jolted Kuroo violently from his spiraling fantasy. The knife slipped in his suddenly vice-like grip, knicking open his palm with a bright blossom of crimson. He hissed out a sharp curse, both at the stinging pain and the fact he'd been so utterly consumed by his hunger for you he hadn't registered your approach.

You tsked sympathetically from somewhere behind him now, sending tingles of visceral awareness skating down his nape. "Need me to kiss it better and make the owie go away?" You crooned in that soft, saccharine tone Kuroo knew damn well was more velvet sheath for venom than genuine innocence.

He whirled to face you, pulse jackrabbiting beneath his ribs when he found you perched on the counter directly beside the scene of his lapse in focus. One leg was folded up against your chest, the other swinging lazily off the edge - all purposefully indolent insouciance and inescapable awareness of the effect you had on him.

"How generous," Kuroo forced out in a roughened rumble, trying for glib detachment even as his gaze raked hungrily over the strip of thigh exposed beneath your tiny sleep shorts. "Pretty sure I've got some bandaids around here somewhere that'll work just as well, but thanks."

Rather than retreating, you merely smirked wider and leaned forward a fraction, putting your breasts on indecently tantalizing display in that threadbare tanktop. "Suit yourself. But I was hoping for an excuse to get on my knees and lavish some personal attention for once..."

The blatant invitation hung suspended between you in a haze of static charge and spiraling heat. Kuroo could feel his self-restraint fast eroding, each labored breath stoking the banked embers of temptation simmering hotter by the second. His mind raced frantically, scrambling for some witty deflection or hasty retreat—

Before he could succeed, your tongue slipped out to trace a maddeningly slow path over the plump swell of your lower lip. "You know I've been told I have exceptional mouth-to-mouth skills for this sort of...situation," you murmured, voice pitched low and rough enough to feel like a physical caress along his thundering pulse. "Seems a shame to let that talent go to waste any longer than necessary, hmm?"

Kuroo couldn't stop the low, graveled growl of undisguised yearning that tore free from somewhere primal and smoldering at your teasing insinuation. Nor could he tear his gaze away from the wanton paths your fingertips traced over the bare expanses of skin you'd so meticulously put on display. Stomach clenching with mingled arousal and heated frustration, he took a single step forward, fully intending to—

He cut himself off sharply, turning on his heel and stalking away from the temptation of your poised, feline sprawl with every ounce of restraint he could muster. You watched him flee with heavy-lidded awareness, lips curved in a victorious smirk that only stoked Kuroo's smoldering urgency further.

"I need a cold fucking shower," he tossed over his shoulder in a guttural rasp. "Don't wait up, gorgeous. I'll come collect you when I've regained some goddamn rationale around that mouth of yours..."

The last, damning word seemed to resonate in the weighted silence he left hanging in his wake. Kuroo tried desperately to focus on the promise of frigid spray rather than the tortuous vision of your plump lips wrapped so prettily around that very phrase - and what other searing delights they might bring to blissful fruition between your tangled forms.

Somehow, he had to regain control before the next few weeks of close proximity eroded the last of his resolve entirely. You deserved far better than falling to his weaknesses in such a desperate moment. And he deserved far sterner retribution than even Kenma could deliver should he ever give in to the temptation of tainting you so profanely...

Dinner passed in a tense spiral of heated glances and loaded silence. Despite your outward veneer of angelic politeness, Kuroo could see the glint of challenge smoldering behind every coy flutter of lashes directed his way.

You seemed utterly focused on dismantling his restraint inch by excruciating inch. From the way you lapped up every stray crumb or droplet of sauce from your full lips with maddening leisure, to the insistent press of your stocking-clad foot tracing sinuous paths along his calf beneath the table's cover. Each tiny gauntlet thrown down made Kuroo's blood rush hotter, stoking his arousal to increasingly painful intensity with every passing moment.

By the time you'd retired for the evening with a sultry murmur of "Sweet dreams, Tetsu," Kuroo could barely see straight past the relentless fog of yearning clouding his thoughts. His skin felt seared from your seemingly innocuous caresses and teasing touches, every nerve ending overwrought to the point of maddening hypersensitivity.

The second Kuroo's bedroom door thudded closed behind him, he was already shucking his clothes in a fevered whirlwind - buttons popping and fabric tearing as he frantically shed the barriers separating him from the relief he so desperately craved. Within moments he collapsed back onto his bed in only his boxers, hand shoved unceremoniously beneath the tented cotton to fist around his painfully hard cock.

A guttural groan of pure ecstasy gusted from Kuroo as he started shamelessly pumping himself with rough, frantic strokes. Visceral scenarios of bending your body over the dinner table and rucking up that little skirt you'd worn instantly unfurled behind his clenched eyelids. He could practically feel the tight, slick heat of your cunt gripping him to the hilt as he surged forward to stake his claim.

"Fuck...gonna feel so goddamn good wrapped around me," He hissed through gritted teeth, thrusts becoming more erratic as the sinful image of your head thrown back in rapture crystallized hotly. "Been driving me crazy...teasing little bitch...need to teach you a fucking lesson..."

Kuroo's free hand flew up to claw at the rigid plane of his abdomen, leaving behind bright ribbons of crimson as his pleasure barreled relentlessly onward. He imagined capturing those wicked lips between his teeth as punishment for every taunt and flagrant provocation you'd issued so seamlessly all evening. Driving himself to brutal, punishing depths over and over until you sobbed and keened and swore to stay good - at least for a little while.

Even picturing your pleas for mercy in that breathless, wrecked timbre you'd used earlier was enough to have Kuroo teetering wildly on the razor's edge. His balls drew up tighter as electric jolts of blinding bliss raced along his synapses with each twist of his calloused grip. Already he could taste the coppery tang of his own strained groans filling the bedroom, breath sawing harshly and release imminent—

A metallic jangle from the front entranceway had Kuroo's orgasm aborting before it could quite crest. His eyes flew open in the same instant he stilled, body strung taut as a bowstring as a cold tendril of realization slithered down his spine.

The midnight quiet echoed with hollow, careful pacing as if someone were sneaking tiptoeing movements. Then, the unmistakable vibration of the front door's locks being disengaged from the other side pulsed through the apartment in a searing staccato.

Kenma's parting warnings slammed back into Kuroo's lust-fogged brain with all the force of a sledgehammer: "Watch her closely. I wouldn't put it past her to slip out looking for trouble the second you blink..."

You. Sneaking out alone into the night to find some godforsaken revelry, no doubt. And despite his current state of painfully swollen and unsated dick, Kuroo felt the switch within him flip from hungered deviant back to protective guardian in a heartbeat.

With a growl of exertion half frenzied lust and half recalcitrant duty, he wrenched himself off the bed and stumbled to locate the first shred of clothing in reach as stealthy footsteps crept ever closer.

Kuroo's footsteps slowed to a prowling gait as he neared the living room, every muscle in his body tensing like a predator catching the scent of prey. There you stood at the front door, hand curved around the knob as if seconds from twisting it open and slipping outside.

But it was your appearance that stole Kuroo's breath and ignited molten need pulsing through his veins anew.

The scrap of crimson fabric you wore could barely even be considered a dress - more like a lingerie bodice sculpted to your lithe curves with indecent intimacy. It cupped the swell of your breasts, forcing them into a tantalizing plunge of cleavage before tapering off into a loose, flowing skirt portion that revealed teasing flashes of thigh and the lace garter adorning your upper leg each time you shifted.

Kuroo drank in the delectable tableau you presented with undisguised starvation, any lingering notion of rebuke or chastisement withering before the scorching promise of your provocatively clad form. You seemed to sense his hungry regard boring into you, shoulders going taut as you tilted your head slightly in acknowledgment.

"Going somewhere?" Kuroo finally grated out, throat parched and pulse jackrabbiting beneath his skin.

You didn't startle or try to fabricate some trite excuse. Instead, you pivoted to face him fully - the motion causing the wispy material to flutter around your body like scarlet flame, offering a split-second's teasing glimpse at the bare curve of your hip and abdomen beneath.

Kuroo barely suppressed a low, ravenous sound at the visceral temptation.

"Not going anywhere, Tetsu," you murmured in a voice like dark, velvety honey dripping straight into Kuroo's veins. "Just thought I'd slip into something more...comfortable while you were gone."

Your tongue darted out to trace a slow, meandering path over that full pout of your lower lip and Kuroo felt the final tethers of his restraint starting to splinter like overheated metal.

"Is that so?" He breathed out a fractured exhale, unconsciously prowling closer now despite his rapidly unraveling discipline. "And just who were you hoping might appreciate the view should they happen by?"

Rather than blanching or feigning innocence, your lips curved into a slow, eminently satisfied smirk that would have put the most depraved temptress to shame. With maddening deliberation, you allowed the bodice's sheer skirt portions to slip open even further - shamelessly revealing the absence of any panties and giving Kuroo an unobscured view of your bare pussy glistening with arousal beneath.

"Oh Tetsu, don't be coy," you crooned in a voice that liquified Kuroo's bones and made his shaft strain against its confines. "We both know precisely who this little show was meant for..." You punctuated the brazen insinuation by trailing one hand up the dip of your waist and over the slight swell of your hip before palming one of your tits shamelessly.

Something inside Kuroo seemed to splinter with a visceral, protracted ache at the image you painted. Some primal, proprietary need he could no longer wrestle down or contain reared up with a vengeance. In two strides, he crossed the remaining distance separating you, muscles tensed for violence.

Before you could so much as flinch, his fist lashed out, slamming into the door's frame beside your head hard enough to rattle its hinges. You went rigid, every shallow breath gusting between your parted lips in teasing wisps and ghosting over Kuroo's own straining chest.

"Don't you fucking dare," he snarled, bracing his other palm against the door to cage you in fully and blanketing your slighter frame in his looming heat. His voice dripped with seething menace, hazel eyes boring into yours with unflinching demand. "You want to play your wicked games, little girl? Then you can stay right here and sate them properly for once instead of traipsing around and dangling your charms for any passing degenerate to see..."

As his words hung in the electrically charged space between your bodies, Kuroo allowed the tip of his thumb to graze the over-sensitized swell of your lower lip with a maddening brush of friction, heart hammering an erratic staccato beneath his ribs.

"That's what you've been gagging for all night, isn't it? For me to finally break and give you exactly the kind of thorough, unrestrained claiming you've been begging for with those eyes?"

His hoarse murmur reverberated straight through you, hips canting subtly forward to grind the hard outline of his cock into your lower belly and banishing any distance between your bodies. You gasped softly at the delicious contact, pupils blowing wide with naked hunger.

Kuroo snaked his other hand with slow, almost torturous care around your back, fingertips skating over heated skin to palm your ass with unabashed greed. He squeezed firmly enough to lift you and force you up onto your tiptoes, your gazes locked in an endless battle of wills and unleashed, unstoppable need.

"Well?" His breath ghosted over your parted lips in counterpoint to his rumbling challenge and the rhythmic grind he established against your core. "If you've finally had enough of playing coy and pretending you don't want this as badly as I do, now's your last chance to walk away before I cave to the beast you keep trying to unleash..."

The molten whisper hung between you, thrumming with electric inevitability. Kuroo could feel the ragged flutter of your pulse against his palm cupping your feverish skin, the delicate shudder coursing through your frame as you swayed instinctively closer.

Your lips parted further as if to give voice to either undeniable surrender or a breathless plea for Kuroo to finally claim you with the ferocity you'd been stoking all night. He tensed in anticipation, every over-sensitized nerve ending screaming for your explicit permission to shed the last threads of restraint still holding him paralyzed on that razor-thin edge.

For a dizzying moment, he could almost taste the searing potential of finally unleashing himself, ravaging your pliant body as roughly and thoroughly as the beast prowling his veins demanded. Kuroo could picture hoisting you bodily into the searing cradle of his hips, pinning you helplessly against the door as he ground your molten centers together with punishing friction...

That's when Kenma's words sliced through the desire-soaked haze enveloping Kuroo's thoughts like a bucket of ice water:

"If I ever find out you so much as looked at my daughter the wrong way, I'll neuter you myself. And that's after my wife gets through kicking your ass first..."

The haunting vow rang with merciless clarity in Kuroo's mind - a bucket of sobering reality to counter the lush temptation of violating the most sacred of boundaries with the woman openly offering her wanton surrender mere breaths away. He froze utterly, gut clenching with a queasy lurch of shame. How could he even consider jeopardizing his friendship with Kenma over some fleeting, heated indiscretion?

You seemed to sense the shift in Kuroo's demeanor, that he'd regained some tenuous grasp on restraint despite the fever still thrumming between your bodies. A tiny, frustrated noise slipped free as your features contorted in a glare of disbelieving outrage.

"Don't you dare fucking pull away from me again, Tetsurou," you growled in a cadence dripping with such naked challenge and need that Kuroo nearly faltered anew. "I swear to god, if you think shutting me down now is going to make me stop craving your cock, you're delusional!"

Kuroo shuddered fully despite himself, arousal jackhammering nearly to the point of pain at the visceral promise of your guttural words. But he dug deep, clinging resolutely to the kernel of conscience beating like a metronome through his lust-fogged thoughts. He couldn't - wouldn't - be that level of betrayal to Kenma, no matter how sweetly the temptation painted itself.

With a fortifying inhale that felt like drawing in shards of glass, Kuroo untangled himself from your sinuous clutches, ignoring your outraged hiss of protest as he forcibly restrained the urge to lay claim so savagely.

"It's late," he managed in a tone gone desert-dry and rough enough to scour his raw throat. "And clearly my better judgment is waning enough for the night. We'll discuss this further after you've had a chance to...cool down."

You watched him with those mercurial eyes gone molten with frustrated fury, chest heaving with ragged pants that did nothing to detract from your brazen state of undress. For a prolonged heartbeat, Kuroo expected an explosive outburst or further attempts at seduction from you. But then, miraculously, some spark of compliance or defeated resignation seemed to bleed the raging inferno from your gaze.

With a toss of your head that made soft tresses spill artfully around your bare shoulders, you sneered. "Whatever. Don't come crying to me when the strain of denying yourself gets to be too much to handle alone at night anymore..."

Kuroo drew himself ramrod straight, pouring every ounce of willpower into keeping his gaze locked forward rather than allowing it to track the provocative bounce of your ass as you spun on your heel and stalked away down the hall. He waited until the muffled thud of your bedroom door slamming echoed like a death knell through the apartment before slumping back against the wall and dragging in a harsh, shuddering breath.

How the hell was he going to survive the remaining weeks of your tempestuous presence while keeping both your ravenous desire and his own treacherous impulses properly leashed?

The following morning found an undercurrent of smoldering resentment still permeating the air. You seemed determined to punish Kuroo for his rejection with frosty glares and curt one-word responses to any attempt at conversation or banter. Your simmering fury was nearly palpable enough to scorch any time he entered the vicinity - deliciously thrilling and unnerving in equal measure.

Finally, unable to endure the bristling awkwardness any longer, Kuroo cleared his throat over the remains of his breakfast. "Look, we both know moping around sulking isn't going to make this go away," he drawled, careful to keep any hint of condescension from creeping into his tone. "Maybe we need to get out and do something a little more fun together? Give you a chance to blow off some of that pent-up steam more...productively?"

Your gaze was skeptical as it flickered up to meet his, clearly wary of any potential olive branch representing ulterior motives or opportunities for seduction. But Kuroo held steady under your scrutiny, offering his most disarming grin.

"C'mon, we can make a little day trip out of it if you'd like? Grab some lunch, do a little shopping, maybe hit up a few sights if the weather cooperates..."

Resentment warred visibly with intrigued temptation across your features before the latter finally won out with a resigned huff. "Fine. Not like I have anything better to do until Dad gets back anyway." You paused, worrying your plump lower lip between your teeth in a way that made Kuroo have to swallow thickly. "Just promise to keep your hands to yourself and maybe I'll consider not holding last night's debacle entirely against you..."

A spark of challenge lit in Kuroo's chest even as he gave a genial shrug of acquiescence. "Whatever you say, princess. Although that begs the question of whether you'll be able to control your own wandering paws around little old me for once..."

You scoffed in a pantomime of offense even as the barest hints of a wry smirk curved your lips. "Oh, I think I've proven my restraint is far superior to your own when push comes to shove, Tetsurou."

The familiar note of salacious teasing had Kuroo's blood heating despite himself. But he held your gaze levelly, determined not to let you regain advantage - at least not so swiftly in the wake of his hard-fought self-denial.

"We'll just have to see about that, won't we?" He countered at last, allowing his eyes to rake over you with unguarded appreciation. "After all, there's only so long either of us can hold our breaths before one of us is bound to...come up gasping..."

The blatant undercurrent of wager and innuendo made your own stare spark in undisguised awareness, the air between you shivering in a deliciously renewed charge. Kuroo rose, movements lazy and confident as a predator scenting fresh prey.

"Better go get ready, sweetheart," he drawled as he moved towards the hallway, uncaring you tracked his every step like a starving woman admiring an exquisitely prepared feast. "It'll be my pleasure making things...interesting for us both today."

With one final, searing glance over his shoulder that promised indulgences still to come, Kuroo sauntered off to prepare himself for the delectable temptations and torments ahead. He only hoped the day's distractions would be enough to purchase him another reprieve from your mutually cataclysmic desires...at least for a few blissful hours more.

The tension that had lingered from the previous night's heated confrontation seemed to dissipate as you and Kuroo ventured out together into the crisp morning air. He tried to remain hyper-aware of the simmering undercurrents still crackling between you, but genuinely found himself getting swept up in simply enjoying your company as the day unfolded.

Over a laidback brunch at a cozy café, you fell back into your usual effortless rapport of teasing banter and roguish quips. Kuroo realized with a strange sort of fondness how easy it was to forget the obscenely tempting woman you'd matured into when you were grinning up at him with syrup smeared at the corner of your mouth, looking for all the world like the same mischievous brat he'd watched grow up.

Still, there were moments that would jar him back into visceral awareness of the barely-restrained desire pulsing between you both – like when you stretched lazily and your shirt rode up to expose a tantalizing strip of toned midriff, or when you casually licked a glob of whipped cream from your fingertip with slow, indolent focus. In those heated instances, Kuroo had to actively tear his stare away from drinking in the lurid tableaus you unconsciously presented.

After brunch, you wandered through a nearby outdoor market – pointing out quirky items that caught your fancy and sharing stories of your latest college misadventures as Kuroo listened with poorly restrained fondness. He couldn't resist the occasional playful nudge or tug on your hair, relishing in your indignant squeals.

Small, innocuous gestures that nevertheless filled Kuroo with a strange sense of nostalgia for cherished days long since passed when your relationship held no murkier underpinnings. Back when things had been simpler...easier.

But then your hand would brush his with purported innocence, or you'd lean in fractionally too close as you tugged the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention, and the nostalgia would instantly combust into that now-familiar scorching heat low in his core.

By the time evening rolled around, that same tantalizing friction was back in full force – only heightened by the casual intimacy you'd both lapsed into over the course of the day. Almost as if all the emotional groundwork of boundaries and uncertainty had already been blazed through, leaving only the heady longing and pent-up tension still smoldering beneath polite veneers. ik

Kuroo felt like he was walking on a tightrope, trying to balance enjoying your company without giving in to the overwhelming desire simmering between you two. As you strolled together down the lively shopping promenade, he was hyperaware of every accidental brush of your arm, every sly glance you shot his way. The sexual tension hung thick in the air, stoking the fire raging within him.

You reminded him of his promise to take you shopping, that coy smile playing on your lips. Kuroo wanted to refuse, to steer you both back to safer territory. But the gleam in your eyes made his resolve falter. He knew you wouldn't let this go, not when you could sense his weakening restraint.

"Sure, one store," he agreed reluctantly. "But we're keeping things PG, got it? No funny business."

Your grin only widened at his futile attempt to set boundaries. "I'll be on my very best behavior," you promised, though the suggestive lilt in your tone said otherwise.

True to form, the moment you stepped into the trendy clothing boutique, you barreled straight towards temptation. Kuroo watched, jaw clenched, as you selected increasingly revealing outfits to try on – tight dresses that clung to your curves, low-cut tops that exposed a tantalizing swell of cleavage. Each time you emerged from the dressing room in a new ensemble, his eyes were helplessly drawn to your body like a magnet, drinking in every inch of skin on display.

You preened under his heated stare, arching your back or bending over just a bit more than necessary as you posed and asked his opinion. Kuroo tried to keep his responses clipped and neutral, but his voice emerged as a strained rasp each time.

Finally, you slipped behind the door again, and Kuroo forced himself to turn away before you reemerged in something even more sinful. He paced the small waiting area, hands fisted at his sides as he wrestled with the escalating ache between his legs. Get it together, Tetsurou, he scolded himself. You can't let her temptations break you.

The soft creak of the changing room door made his head snap up, breath catching at the sight of you. This time, the delicate black dress you wore could barely be called clothing – the flimsy material was practically see-through, clinging to your body like a second skin and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. As you sauntered closer, each swaying step made the dress ride up tantalizing higher on your thighs.

"Well?" You locked eyes with him, open challenge burning in your gaze. "What do you think about this one, Tetsu? Think it would look better..." You trailed off, slowly dragging your hands up your sides to emphasize your breasts straining against the sheer fabric. "On the bedroom floor?"

Kuroo's throat went dry as you closed the distance between you, plush lips parting invitingly as you pressed yourself flush against his body. He could feel the pebbled peaks of your nipples grazing his chest, smell the intoxicating floral scent of your skin and hair. The blood was pounding so fiercely in his ears, he barely registered your next words.

"Come on, old man," you purred, tilting your hips in a slow grind against his growing hardness. "You can finally give in, just this once. No one has to know how badly you want me..."

With a guttural groan torn from his very core, Kuroo captured your lips in a searing, desperate kiss. All of his flimsy resistance and halfhearted objections crumbled entirely as he pulled you harder against him, one hand burying itself in your hair while the other shamelessly groped your ass.

You eagerly reciprocated his hunger, mouth opening to allow his probing tongue to delve deeper as your nails raked over his shoulders. The kiss was all heat and wet friction and the slick tangling of tongues, devolving rapidly into messy desperation.

When you finally broke apart, lips swollen and breath sawing harshly, Kuroo's gaze was molten with naked need. "Fuck it," he rasped out, guiding you backwards toward the dressing room. "You want this so bad, princess? You got it..."

With a low growl, he yanked the flimsy dress clear over your head, leaving you beautifully bare before his ravenous stare. As he crowded you against the wall, hands greedily roaming your body, all thoughts of resistance fled entirely. You'd baited him expertly, and now there was nothing left but surrender to the raging inferno of lust you'd both fanned for far too long.

Kuroo pinned you against the dressing room wall, the flimsy door shuddering on its hinges as he ground his clothed cock against your naked heat. Your head lolled back, mouth falling open in a silent moan as his lips and teeth blazed a scorching path down the column of your throat.

One of his powerful thighs shoved between your legs, forcing them obscenely apart to make room for the delicious friction he established. You clung to his broad shoulders, nails raking over taut muscle and bunched fabric as you rocked wantonly into the exquisite pressure.

"Yes...oh fuck, Tetsu, please..." The entreaty slipped free in a shredded whimper as molten licks of rapture sparked outwards from your rapidly liquifying core with each punishing grind of Kuroo's hips.

He swallowed your cries with another deep, bruising kiss - all teeth and slick tangling of tongues as he laid utterly merciless claim. One large palm clamped over the generous curve of your breast, kneading and tweaking the peaked nipple with expert command until you arched into his brand with a ragged plea.

Just as the two of you threatened to shred through the last vestige of control, a shrill ringing cut through the haze of panting breaths and slick glides of skin. You startled against Kuroo's unrelenting attention, scrambling to locate the source of the interruption.

"Fuck, ignore it baby," Kuroo growled against the swollen swell of your lips as he tried to recapture your mouth. But you placed a palm to his heaving chest, stilling his insistent motions just long enough to locate your buzzing phone abandoned beside the discard pile of outfits you'd tried on.

The name "DADDY" glared up from the screen, undeniable and utterly disruptive in its timing. You froze, equal parts mortification and a sudden rush of clarity dousing the raging inferno like a bucket of ice water.

Kuroo seemed to experience a similar sobering, judging by the way he abruptly wrenched himself from your tangled clutches with a guttural curse. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, harsh breaths sawing raggedly through the quiet changing alcove.

"Answer it," he bit out in a grating tone when you continued staring numbly at the vibrating device. "It's probably Kenma checking in finally..."

Obediently, you connected the call, fingers trembling as you lifted the phone to your ear while Kuroo dragged himself back from the precipice of utterly losing control.

"H-hey Daddy..." you stammered out, unable to fully erase the undercurrent of breathy desire still permeating your voice. "Did you make it to the hotel okay?"

You kept your eyes trained resolutely on the wall opposite as Kuroo raked his tortured stare over your flushed, gloriously debauched state. His jaw ticked visibly with the strain of warring compulsions before he seemed to reach some grim inner resolve.

Without ceremony, he snatched up the discarded pile of clothing and strode for the exit, steps tight and precise as he headed for the register. You watched his exit helplessly with one hand clapped over the mic, entirely uncertain how to process the harrowing swing between total debauchery and cold sobriety.

Finally, you shook yourself from your daze. "Yeah, I'm just...just out getting a few things with...with Tetsu," you mumbled hoarsely into the receiver, unable to mask the warring torrent of disappointment and relief thrashing beneath your skin. "No, no everything is totally fine and...and normal here..."

You trailed off staring blankly at the dressing room's mirrored wall – the debauchery reflected back at you a bitter mockery of your platitudes. Hickeys darkened over the swell of your breasts, hair a riot of tangles from Kuroo's merciless grip, the proof of your arousal stark and glistening between your thighs and smeared incriminatingly over your inner thighs.

Far from fine or normal.

With a trembling sigh and a desperate prayer Kuroo would maintain his reforged nobility for just a while longer, you slunk into the bathroom to quickly restore some semblance of dignity and untangled poise before braving whatever storm awaited on the other side.

The drive back to Kuroo's apartment was cloaked in a heavy silence, the air thick with unresolved tension. You kept stealing sidelong glances at him, eyes tracing the taut set of his jaw and the way the tendons in his neck corded with strain. His knuckles were practically white from gripping the steering wheel, biceps flexing beneath the material of his shirt. You found your gaze lingering on those sculpted forearms, remembering the scorching imprints his large palms had branded into your bare skin not long ago.

A heated flush crept up your chest as you recalled the urgency of his touch, the blazing intensity in his smoldering stare as he'd pinned you against that dressing room wall. Just thinking about how utterly you had unraveled him, how close you'd both teetered to the edge of no return, made a spiral of arousal rekindle low in your belly.

Finally, you couldn't take the charged quiet any longer. As if giving voice to the roiling torrent might somehow lance the turbulent undercurrents between you. "Are we going to talk about what happened back there?" you ventured, keeping your tone carefully neutral despite the way your pulse thrummed with reawakened yearning.

Kuroo's Adam's apple bobbed convulsively as he swallowed hard, sharpened jawline tensing further. "What's there to talk about?" His gravelly response held an undercurrent of forced nonchalance that did nothing to mask the storm clearly raging behind his eyes. "Just a lapse in judgment that won't be happening again."

The curt dismissal ignited a fresh flare of indignant frustration deep in your core. As if he could so easily disregard the raging inferno he'd stoked and indulge in willful blindness. You bristled, the flames of desire now sparking into defiance as you bristled. "So that's it? You're just going to pretend like you didn't want me just as badly?"

Shifting in your seat, you arched your back slightly to thrust your breasts forward and let your hand trail up the inseam of your skirt in a slow, sinuous caress. You parted your thighs a few tantalizing inches, holding Kuroo's burning stare in silent challenge. The rapid dilation of his pupils and the way his throat worked around a convulsive swallow did not escape your notice.

"I felt how hard you were, Tetsu," you murmured in a voice gone low and syrupy with provocation. You bit your lower lip slowly, letting it plump up and glisten with the brief sweep of your tongue. "How turned on you were, having me pressed up against you. Don't tell me you’re just gonna ignore that."

A muscle ticked in his chiseled jaw, the corded sinews of his neck snapping taut. But Kuroo kept his glass-cutting stare locked resolutely on the empty road ahead, seemingly laboring to maintain his rapidly crumbling veneer of forced restraint. His chest rose and fell in harsh drafts, utterly at odds with his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

With a sharp swerve that jostled you both, Kuroo abruptly pulled over on a quiet side street. For a split second, you expected – hoped – that he would finally surrender. That the smoldering heat in his hooded stare would arc forward and consume you both in the searing release of passion too long stoked and denied. You even leaned subtly into his space, lips parting in breathless expectation.

But instead of seizing you in the punishing kiss you craved, Kuroo squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture of clear self-restraint. The sharp ridges and hollows of his profile were limned in stark relief by the ambient glow of the streetlamp, casting his features in an almost pained mask of stoicism.

"You don't understand, [Y/N]," he grated out in that deliciously rough timbre that made your pussy flutter traitorously. "It's not just about age or consent. You're Kenma's daughter, for fuck's sake."

The reminder lanced through the gauzy cocoon of longing clouding your thoughts – a sudden dousing that left you recoiling slightly. But even the fleeting pang of guilt was not enough to extinguish the ember of desire still burning molten and insistent in your core. You worried your plump lower lip with your teeth again, noting the way Kuroo's gaze tracked the unconscious gesture with naked yearning.

"So what? The two of you aren’t related by blood."

Even to your own ears, the attempted rationalization rang thin and hollow – a transparent grasp at justification for indulging in this increasingly inescapable compulsion arcing between your charged forms.

Kuroo's jaw clenched hard enough to throw his chiseled features into harsh relief, full lips peeling back from gritted teeth in a rictus of frustration. "That doesn't matter!" he exploded, the blaze finally detonating behind those piercing emerald eyes. "Kenma is my oldest friend, my brother in every way that counts. And betraying his trust like this by lusting after his little girl?"

His words emerged guttural and fraught, the muscle jumping sporadically along his tensed jawline as his chest heaved with the force of containing the twin maelstroms of lust and self-loathing clearly at war within his formidable frame.

"It's unforgivable..." he finished in a voice gone hoarse with effort that seemed to resonate through you in a full-body tremor of apprehension and answering hunger.

The car idled around you, the low thrum of its engine seeming to give voice to the pulse of hunger you refused to quiet so easily. You absorbed Kuroo's weighted condemnation and rationality through the molasses-thick silence, tasting the bitter truths on your tongue...and dismissing them with a willful defiance that roiled and snapped through your veins like liquid fire.

"What if," you hedged at last, carefully modulating your tone to a lower, syrupy warmth. "What if he didn't have to know? Just this once to get it out of our systems."

The insinuation hung wreathed in ephemeral promise – one you punctuated by allowing your hand to slowly creep higher along Kuroo's taut thigh until your questing fingertips brushed against the outline of his cock swiftly taking shape beneath the coarse denim. You relished the punched-out groan that gusted free of him despite his visible efforts to contain it, his powerful thighs parting incrementally in a reflexive, unbidden welcome to your temptation.

"[Y/N], baby...don't..." Kuroo's graveled entreaty was unmistakable even as his willpower hemorrhaged. You refused to grant him quarter or pause now, shuffling gracelessly across the console until your lips ghosted searing friction against the sandpaper rasp of his own in a tantalizing brush of silk over steel.

"Don't act like you don't crave this just as much as I do," you breathed against his parted mouth, your damp exhalation seeming to scorch its heated path along every molecule. "I can feel how much you want me..."

A visible tremor wracked Kuroo's powerful frame then, his control stretched gossamer-thin and shredding. With a ragged curse torn from somewhere deep in his chest, he crushed his mouth down over yours in a searing, desperate kiss that threatened to steal the very air from your lungs. His large palms slid over every lush curve and swell in a heated brand of possession – bunching the fabric of your skirt up over your hips without preamble as he hauled you bodily into the cradle of his lap.

The action pinned you flush to the hard-on you'd been so purposefully teasing, eliciting a shamelessly wanton moan that Kuroo swallowed greedily. A dizzying spiral of tongues and teeth and lush, bruising friction commenced between you – frantic and ferocious and lit by the feverish promise of total surrender. Kuroo's every ragged exhalation scorched over your flushed skin with the guttural relish of starvation, his powerful body undulating beneath you in open invitation.

It was finally happening – the dam breaking to unleash the turbulent waters you'd strained against for far too long...

Then, with an animalistic growl torn from the depths of his core, Kuroo abruptly tore his mouth from yours. You both panted harshly in the aftermath, chests heaving and bodies glistening with the visceral efforts of that brief conflagration. Kuroo's eyes bored into you from beneath hooded lids, burning with an intensity that nearly made you moan at the visceral, proprietary promise you found there.

"We can't..." he rasped out, even as his hands roved hungrily over every exquisite swell and hollow of your wanton curves. He kneaded the lush flesh of your ass shamelessly, grinding your molten pussy against his aching cock. "Fuck, you have no idea how badly I want to just fuck you right here..."

You arched against him with a keening sound of entreaty, nipping sharply at the corded tendon straining along the column of his throat with your kiss-swollen lips. "Then why are you fighting it? I'm right here, Tetsu...all yours for the taking if you just give in..."

A shudder wracked Kuroo's broad shoulders and he momentarily buried his face in the fragrant hollow beneath your ear, seeming to inhale the humid fusion of your desire and dizzying feminine musk. You felt the rasp of his tongue caressing the feverish jump of your pulse point before he leaned back, jaw visibly ticking with the strain of containing the beast howling for release within.

"Kenma..." he ground out through gritted teeth, chest sawing with exertion as he visibly warred to regain the tattered shreds of his composure. "I can't do that to Kenma...fuck, I can't betray him like this no matter how tempting you make it!"

You issued a wordless growl of sheer frustration and smashed your mouth back against Kuroo's in a punishing kiss of pure, wanton possession. Your hips surged erratically against his, grinding and circling in search of any exquisite friction to soothe the mounting ache. His hands – those peerless instruments of dominance and barely-restrained power – squeezed your hips with bruising force, meeting your agonized roll for ravenous roll as you both teetered ever nearer to the abyss.

"Don't think about him or anyone else," you rasped out between the wickedly slick tangling of tongues and fevered sips of lush, parted flesh. "Just think about me and what you're going to do to me once we get back..."

A full-body shudder wracked Kuroo's powerful, delineated musculature then, making you momentarily dizzy as your senses swirled with the intoxicating scents of your feverish exertions and his spiced, earthy virility. For a suspended, panting heartbeat, you thought he might actually give in right there and now – shed his shredded composure and take you right atop the creaking console in an animalistic frenzy of unleashed hungers.

But then Kuroo's expression slid into grim determination, emerald eyes glinting with a resolve too steely to ignore. "Get off me, princess," he grated out in a voice thick and molten from your arduous joining. With gentle yet unmistakable force, he untangled your limbs from around him, depositing you into the passenger seat with surprisingly finessed care.

You opened your mouth to protest or cajole further, but Kuroo fixed you with a look that brooked no additional discussion. Shaken by the authority blazing from his banked stare, you simply slumped back in sullen, heated frustration as he started the car and pulled back onto the empty road with sharp, jerky motions.

The drive passed in a thick, tension-laden silence once more – your own frustration and simmering yearning mounting with every block traversed and minute ticking past. From the passenger seat, your gaze traced over Kuroo's stern profile and lingered on the prominent set of his kiss-swollen lips before flickering towards the backseat...

Where easily a dozen glossy shopping bags lay scattered and overflowing with the entire selection of risque garments you'd sampled earlier during your flagrant attempts at seduction. The sheer volume of them, crammed haphazardly across the plush leather, suggested Kuroo had spared no expense in purchasing every single indecent offering you'd modeled so shamelessly for him across the evening.

You absorbed this visceral evidence of just how deeply your provocations had affected him – no matter how firmly he tried distancing himself from the primal, lust-choked demands you'd elicited. The sight of all those dresses and scandalously revealing tops, the ghost of their heated exchange permeated the fine material in a way you doubted would ever be expunged now.

Silently, you turned your gaze back out the window, chest constricting with equal parts yearning and a newfound flush of humbled apprehension. If even an evening as blatantly purposed to incite Kuroo's basest longings had pushed you both to such explosive limits, how on earth would either of you survive the smoldering compulsions newly awakened between you going forward?

Man and woman – both undeniably enraptured, yet torn between morality and forbidden lust...what choice did either of you truly have but to succumb entirely to the raging inferno now threatening to consume you both utterly?

The remainder of the evening passed in a blur of simmering tension and loaded silence. As soon as you entered Kuroo's apartment, you stormed down the hall without a backwards glance – the sharp staccato of your footsteps and the punctuating slam of the guest bedroom door ricocheting through the quiet like auditory shockwaves.

Kuroo stood frozen in the living area, shoulders rising and falling with deep, calming breaths as he struggled to regain equilibrium. Every inch of his body still thrummed with unspent arousal and the ghost of your lush, wanton curves pressed so urgently against his own aching hardness. The dusky floral scent of your desire seemed to permeate the very air, making his head swim dizzily.

He sank onto the sofa, scrubbing his palms over his face as warring tides of lust and self-loathing churned within. How close had he teetered to that razor's edge of indulging his most depraved impulses? Minutes from dragging your willing body back against his and consummating the forbidden, treacherous cravings coiled like a serpent around his resolve?

The thought sickened him as much as it made his cock throb insistently. With a muffled groan, Kuroo shoved himself upright to stumble towards the safe refuge of his room. Perhaps distance and unconsciousness would dull the overwhelming tempest now lashing against his shores.

He intended to seek you out later, when coherent sentences and rational discussions became possible again. An effort to assuage your understandable ire and work towards diffusing this entire disaster before it fractured something irreparable between you.

But for now, Kuroo needed to retreat and regroup – escape the torturous haunting of your essence clinging to every space if he had any hope of eventually confronting the minefield you had both set dancing across.

Sleep, however, proved equally elusive in light of his spiraling thoughts. Each time Kuroo closed his eyes, visceral flashes assaulted him – the slick swell of your parted lips, the blissed out arch of your spine as you ground down against his aching cock, the primal mewls of desire spilling wantonly past the swollen pout needing nothing more than his tongue to swallow them once more.

At some point in the restless fever dream, he found himself wandering down the dimly lit hallway, a silent wraith pulled towards the forbidden as surely as helpless debris caught in a riptide. He paused outside the guest suite, gaze riveted to the sliver of spilled illumination glowing from beneath. He could picture you stretched out on those rumpled sheets so achingly vivid it made his fingers ache with the urge to trail worshipful paths over every exposed expanse...

A ragged exhalation gusted from Kuroo's parched lips. He sagged back against the opposite wall, fighting off the insidious temptation to breach that final barrier. Clearly your alluring presence had completely unraveled his normally steadfast self-control and rationale. For both your sakes, he would have to keep a healthy gulf between you...at least for now.

With monumental effort, Kuroo retreated back to his room and the refuge of cool, clean sheets blessedly void of the temptress' haunting essence. He lasted a grand total of an hour sprawled out in solitary torment before surrendering what little composure remained and indulging himself in a rough, curse-laden fantasy that would have made even your wanton desires seem quaint by comparison.

By the time the first pale ribbons of dawn streaked across the horizon, a raw-throated and shuddering Kuroo finally succumbed to fitful slumber with the sticky residue of his cum cooling in streaks across his tensed abdomen. And through the shredding vestiges of restless unconsciousness, he swore he could taste the phantom heat of your tongue laving scorching paths along the insides of his thighs in leisurely benediction...

Sunlight filtering through the bedroom's gauzy curtains roused Kuroo from his lurid fever-dreams at last. With monumental effort, he tugged leaden eyelids open to blearily assess his surroundings – half expecting to find you a tousled, inviting vision spread out beside him after the feverish imaginings plaguing his slumber.

But the rumpled sheets beside him remained untouched, unsullied of any presence save his own. A sudden, petulant hollowness seemed to yawn through Kuroo's core at the realization, far more visceral than he cared to analyze.

Huffing out a frustrated exhalation, he finally levered himself upright and scrubbed his hands through the sweaty disarray of his bedhead. The motions caused his shoulders to crack in relief, reminding him of just how restlessly he must have tossed and turned throughout the night. Each minute of failed slumber scored into his senses by the molten brands of fantasies too lurid for conscious recollection.

With jerky, still sleep-clumsy movements, Kuroo tugged on a pair of sweatpants before making his way towards the kitchen and the steadying ritual of brewing a strong pot of coffee. He needed fuel and sustenance if he harbored any hope of somehow diffusing the powder keg now smoldering so perilously on his doorstep.

Kuroo fully intended to seek you out, clear the air, and work towards patching the cracks already webbing between you with remorseless speed. Before more irrevocable sins and unspeakable hungers could leach through and fracture everything apart.

But the moment Kuroo shuffled into the front living area and spotted your silhouette perched on the sofa, all intentions scattered like ashes in a downdraught. You sat utterly motionless, hands folded demurely between your knees and shoulders hunched beneath a thick sweater that seemed to swallow your slender frame.

For several weighted heartbeats, Kuroo simply stared – part of him frantically scrambling to piece together what apologies or arguments or tempering explanations might be fitting for the storm no doubt still churning your stare.

But when you lifted your chin and met his gaze full-on, he knew in an instant that the tumultuous anger and hurt smoldering behind your depths had dimmed to low embers overnight. All of the thorns and hissing defensiveness he'd steeled himself for seemed...muted, dampened to a bemused sort of weariness.

"Morning," you murmured, offering an uncertain smile that halted Kuroo in his tracks. "There's coffee made already if you want some."

And just like that, it was as if some unspoken truce had been negotiated over the empty hours of sleeplessness plaguing you both. No blazing recriminations or bitter wrath, simply a thin veneer of civility draped between your respective wounds like gauze still awaiting a more permanent salve.

Part of Kuroo wanted to tear through the falsely calming atmosphere with demands and impassioned pleas to finally hash out the forbidden hungers simmering between you openly and without restraint. A larger, more guarded piece of him reveled in the reprieve – no matter how brittle its origins or longevity.

For now, there would be no knock-down-drag-out confrontations about culpabilities or unspeakable transgressions. Just the steady, comforting motions of two friends clinging to the shreds of propriety still distinguishable through the smoky haze of sin.

"Thanks," Kuroo rasped out at last, gesturing vaguely towards the hallway. "I should hit the shower, but I'll grab a mug after."

You merely nodded without lifting your chin, as if any sudden movements or excess attentions might shatter the delicately-reforged peace between you. Kuroo allowed the hazy beat of silence to stretch and congeal around him for a few more endless seconds before retreating with a self-conscious clearing of his throat.

Hot water scouring his fatigued muscles did nothing to cleanse the heavier burdens now bearing down upon him. Each droplet scissoring down his well-muscled frame seemed to whisper your name in a haunting sussurus laced with equal parts damnation and devotion. Over and over until his skull echoed with the weight of it all, the agonizing decisions and tempests of lust still holding court behind his eyes as he fought for purchase on elusive clarity.

By the time Kuroo finally emerged, towel slung low around his hips and bare feet damp against the living room floor, he found you exactly where you'd been. Your eyes flickered over the exposed expanse of defined musculature, trailing down the dewy hollow of his throat to the thick, coarse hair trailing down his navel before hastening away.

A flush stained your cheeks despite your otherwise placid expression and Kuroo felt the bottom drop out of his stomach in sympathy. It would seem neither of you was quite immune to the molten brands of temptation searing between your shared spaces after all.

Some desperate instinct prodded him to break the ice, to raise a jest or levity to at least mask the simmering current tugging them both down into murky depths once more...until he saw the two mugs already awaiting on the coffee table.

And beside them the cheerfully plain cardboard box containing the six-pack of fancy cookies he favored but rarely indulged. His stomach clenched, suddenly painfully unsure whether the gesture stemmed from simple thoughtfulness and consideration...or carried infinitely murkier underpinnings of appeasement or delayed capitulation.

"[Y/N]..." Kuroo murmured, the name dripping from his tongue like fragrant benediction and damnation all at once. "What...?"

But your only response was to lift one shoulder in a tiny shrug before inclining your head towards the prepared dishes silently. The weight behind your compliant silence made Kuroo's gut churn for reasons he could barely fathom.

He crossed the space more out of instinctive compulsion than true desire, sinking onto the couch cushions careful inches away from where you huddled beneath the oversized sweater. For one teetering heartbeat, he was frozen - every fiber of his being screaming at him to reach out and map the enigmatic hollows and slopes of your features with desperate reverence. To try and see past whatever crossroads you had navigated in the cold depths of morning while he wallowed in his own disgraced indecision.

But in the end, he simply reached for the prepared mug of steaming brew, cradling the heat and steadying ceramic between his palms as a penitent before an altar he longed to glimpse...yet dared not risk profaning further with any more selfish, craven demands.

The silence stretched between them, thick and weighted as Kuroo sipped his coffee. He stole furtive glances at you over the rim of the mug, brow furrowed slightly as he tried to decipher the strange shift in your demeanor. Gone was the defiant fire that had blazed so brightly the previous day, the blatant challenge and provocation that had nearly unraveled him completely.

Instead, you seemed...subdued, almost chastened. Your eyes remained downcast, fingers worrying at a loose thread on the sweater you were huddled in. Kuroo recognized it as one of his own - the sight of you engulfed in the worn fabric sparked an unexpected flicker of tenderness amidst the swirling uncertainty.

Just as he opened his mouth, prepared to finally broach the smoldering tension crackling between them, you spoke up in a soft murmur.

"I'm sorry about yesterday." Your gaze flickered up to meet his, equal parts contrition and a guarded wariness he couldn't quite decipher. "I acted like a brat, and I crossed so many lines I shouldn't have."

Kuroo's brows hiked up, the apology catching him completely off guard. A thousand potential responses flickered through his mind, but he remained silent, letting you continue uninterrupted.

"You were right to shut me down," you pressed on, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. "What I was trying to push you into...it would have been a huge mistake. A betrayal of my dad's trust in the worst way."

He watched, utterly transfixed, as you visibly gathered your composure with a deep, steadying breath. When you met his gaze again, there was a newfound determination glinting in your eyes that made his chest constrict painfully.

"I need to be better than that," you stated, more to yourself than him. "I can't keep letting my...impulses and selfishness rule me, not when it risks hurting the people I care about most." A wry, self-deprecating smile curved your lips. "Especially over something as stupid as a cheap thrill that would have ruined everything in the end."

Kuroo's mouth had gone dry, his coffee suddenly tasting ashen on his tongue. This measured, earnest side of you was so at odds with the wanton temptress who had pushed him to the boundaries of control mere hours ago. He couldn't decide if he was relieved at your apparent change of heart, or if a deeper part of him mourned the loss of that smoldering, unchecked passion.

"From now on, I'm going to be focusing on my studies," you continued, voice strengthening with conviction. "No more distractions, no more chasing selfish whims that could jeopardize my future and hurt the people I love."

Despite himself, Kuroo couldn't contain the incredulous huff of laughter that slipped past his lips. You cut him a mildly reproachful look, but he simply shook his head and lifted one shoulder in an unapologetic shrug.

"Sorry, I just..." He searched for the right words, sarcasm warring with sincere consideration. "After everything that happened yesterday, you'll forgive me for being a little skeptical about your sudden resolve to become a model student again."

To his surprise, you didn't bristle or retort defensively. Instead, you simply held his gaze steadily, mouth set in a solemn line.

"I mean it, Tetsurou," you stated, each word laced with sober emphasis. "Things went way too far yesterday, and we both know it. I refuse to let my lack of self-control ruin things any further between us or with my dad."

He searched your expression, looking for any hints of deception or lingering temptation simmering beneath the surface. But all he found was earnest determination and...an undercurrent of what could only be described as regret. Regret for the lines you had crossed, for the dangerous territory you had led him towards so brazenly.

Kuroo felt something within him loosen at your sincerity, the constant knot of wariness and residual arousal slowly unspooling. Perhaps you had both needed this reckoning, this moment of clarity amidst the maelstrom of lust and indecision.

With a slow nod, he set his half-finished coffee aside and leaned back against the sofa cushions. "Alright, if that's really what you want..." He let the implication hang in the air - giving you one final chance to contradict or deflect.

But you simply met his gaze evenly and offered a small, resolute smile. "It is. I promise."

He found himself returning the smile, some of the heaviness that had weighed on him since yesterday finally dissipating. "Then I'm with you. Whatever you need to get through this..." He waved a hand vaguely. "...whatever this chapter is, I've got your back."

A shimmer of gratitude flickered across your features, and you nodded silently. The air between you seemed to clear, the tension bleeding away to be replaced by a newfound sense of solidarity and understanding.

As you rose to retreat back to your room, likely to tackle some studying, Kuroo couldn't help but marvel at the shift. Just yesterday, the mere sight of you had set his blood boiling and restraint hanging by a gossamer thread. Now, you were calm waters, your determination sending ripples of pride through him rather than turbulent desire.

Part of him wanted to bask in this newfound sense of solidarity, to trust in the sincerity he had glimpsed burning in your eyes. You seemed so resolute, so committed to reining in the chaotic impulses that had nearly led you both down an irreversibly dark path. For a fleeting moment, Kuroo allowed himself to truly hope that the worst had passed - that you had both exorcised the ravenous temptations and granted each other the space needed to heal.

But another, more cynical part of him couldn't shake a lingering wariness - a nagging suspicion that this abrupt shift in comportment was simply a new gambit in whatever twisted game of seduction still simmered beneath the surface. He knew you too well, had witnessed firsthand just how adept you were at manipulation and preying on his weaknesses when the mood struck.

Was this whole 'good girl' act merely a calculated move to lull him back into a false sense of security? To bait him into dropping his guard entirely before the next onslaught of provocation? Kuroo clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to rake his palm through his disheveled bedhead. He couldn't afford blind trust anymore, not until his senses managed to fully disentangle themselves from the drugging aura of your temptation.

The rest of the day passed in that same strange, uneasy truce. You remained tucked away in the guest room, a silent sentinel devoted to your apparent studies. Kuroo tried to busy himself with mundane chores and mindless distractions, desperate to avoid falling back into the same spiral of fevered ruminations that had plagued him the previous evening.

When at last the knock at his door dragged him back to the present, the dimly lit hallway revealed your silhouette hovering uncertainly just past the threshold to his bedroom suite. A woven blanket was wrapped securely around your lithe form, soft locks tousled by evident restlessness.

"Hey," you greeted in a low, rough murmur that somehow still managed to caress over his nerves with unbearable gentleness. "I didn't mean to disturb you, I just..."

You trailed off, gaze flickering away as one slender hand worried at the blanket's edge. Kuroo inhaled a steadying breath, forcing himself to remain impassive rather than closing the distance to offer...well, whatever fragile intimacy his body instinctively longed to provide.

"Everything okay?" He prompted when you remained locked in uncertain silence.

Finally, you nodded and met his probing stare fully once more. "Yeah, it's just...I don't know, never mind. Sorry, I shouldn't have disturbed your evening."

As you turned to retreat back down the hallway, something deep inside Kuroo clenched at the thought of you withdrawing further into solitude and shadow. Before his rational mind could override the impulse, he found himself calling out to your departing figure.

"Wait!" It emerged more gruffly than intended, making you freeze in your tracks and glance back over one shoulder. Kuroo groped for an appropriate excuse, something benign enough not to raise defenses all while affording your company a while longer.

"Ah, I was actually planning to head into the office for a bit later," he fibbed. "Get a head start on some paperwork since I'll be out for the next couple weeks." Kenma's extended business trip suddenly provided convenient cover for maintaining a credible pretense.

"If you wanted," he pressed on, feigning nonchalance. "You could come along? Maybe grab a bite or something afterwards? No pressure or anything, just a chance to get out of the apartment for a bit."

Silence stretched between you as you seemed to mull over his proposal. Kuroo waited with studied patience, refusing to allow his desperation to bleed through the carefully measured tone of his offer. If you sensed how imperative it suddenly felt to draw you back out of your isolated solitude, there was no telling what fresh deceptions or exploitations might be unleashed...

"That's very kind of you," you said at last, rewarding Kuroo's lungs with oxygen once more. "But I think I'll pass tonight. I'm actually making really good headway on this literature review for my Criminal Justice class."

The unexpected excuse shouldn't have landed with such a hollow pang in Kuroo's core. He forced a tight smile and a nod as if your wholesome refusal was precisely what he had expected all along.

"Well hey, can't argue with putting education first. That's my girl." The endearment slipped past his lips before he could rein it back, making something almost pained flicker across your features.

"Thanks for understanding," you murmured, hugging the blanket tighter around yourself as you began retreating once more. "Really, Tetsu, this is exactly what I need right now, so just...don't worry about me for a little while, okay?"

The words sliced through Kuroo like a physical blow, leaving him unmoored and reeling in their wake. Before rational thought could intervene, his body propelled itself forward of its own volition - powerful strides devouring the distance until you were engulfed in the circle of his arms.

You went rigid at the sudden embrace, shoulder blades tensing beneath Kuroo's palms as he crushed you against the solid plane of his chest. For a breathless heartbeat, you remained frozen - two tautly strung bowstrings lashed together and thrumming with twinned uncertainty.

Then you seemed to melt fractionally, slender form softening into the cradle of Kuroo's insistent hold as you allowed your cheek to pillowed against the reassuring thrum of his heartbeat.

Kuroo drank in every visceral detail greedily - the fragrant whisper of your shampoo, the pliant silk of your hair brushing his jawline, the delicate points of your body pressing into his with undeniable substance and fever.

Without conscious thought, he angled his face downward, allowing the rough rasp of his stubble to score delicate friction against the downy slope of your temple. He inhaled deeply, pulling your combined scents into his lungs like a man starving for sustenance.

Your breaths hitched in response, mingling with his own in tremulous susurrances that sounded dangerously akin to shared whimpers of need. Before Kuroo's tenuous grasp on control could splinter entirely, he tilted your face up towards his with two blunt fingertips beneath your chin.

Your features were suffused with ethereal shadows, making your eyes glimmer with haunted liquid fire. Kuroo stared into those molten depths, every muscle in his body locked taut as he waged a silent war with the compulsions howling through his bloodstream.

To claim your lips in the searing, profane manner they had taunted and tempted with such maddening ardor? Or to retreat from the brink of that scorching precipice once more before he immolated the last tattered remnants of restraint still just barely tethering his hungers in place?

Kuroo could feel the answer being etched into the twin brands of your shared exhales, the tantalizing give of your body cradled against his hardening form. Every atom and synapse screamed for capitulation to the searing potential hanging like a livewire between your mouths.

With what felt like monumental effort, he dragged his lips across your searing cheekbone instead - angling his mouth to brand a searing path towards your brow. You shuddered fully beneath his roving caress, fingers clenching in the thick material of Kuroo's sweatshirt as if to tether yourself in place.

Finally, Kuroo pressed his lips against the warm silk of your forehead in what felt like a ghosting benediction – an aching promise to soothe and protect the most fragile innocence blooming within the banked furnace of your temptations. He lingered in that tenuous stasis, coaxing the stinging behind his eyes to relent long enough to steady his voice.

"Sleep well, little one," he rasped out at last in a tone gone rough with too many competing compulsions. "I'll be back before you know it, so try not to study too hard for once while I'm gone."

Reluctantly, he allowed his arms to fall away from you – slowly enough to avoid any abrupt separation that might shatter the fragile symbiosis you'd achieved. Then he turned to retreat, unable to risk glimpsing whatever swirling riptides of emotion still churned behind your mercurial depths.

Kuroo made it as far as the corridor leading towards the stairwell before his breaths began sawing erratically again, lungs burning with the effort of containing the turbulent hungers still prowling his inner battlefields.

The rest of the short trip towards the office building passed in a blur. In an effort to quiet his riotous thoughts, Kuroo found himself spontaneously re-routing his steps towards one of the neighborhood's more upscale bakeries instead. Perhaps a sugary indulgence and the simple, unassuming ambiance of the place could buoy his spirits and purchase some semblance of peace once more...

He had just collected a small box of artisanal marzipan fruits and some chocolates from the smiling confectioner when his phone began trilling. Kuroo felt his gut plummet straight through the floor as Kenma's name flashed on the screen.

Nearly dropping his purchase in the scramble to accept the incoming call, he pressed the device to his ear and tried to ignore the way his voice cracked upon answering.

"Hey, everything okay? You're still in Italy, right?"

There was a pregnant pause from the other line, followed by a low clearing of his best friend's throat. "Ah, yeah...yeah, I'm still in Milan until the weekend at least."

Another terse silence stretched between them - leaving Kuroo plenty of phantom shadows to populate with increasingly paranoid visions of half-articulated transgressions exposed. He was just about to blurt out some frantic platitude or innocuous excuse when Kenma's mild baritone interjected again.

"Sorry, I don't mean to call unannounced like this," he began in his usual reserved candor. "It's just...well, I've tried reaching [Y/N] herself but she hasn't picked up all day, and I wanted to check-"

"Oh, no, she's totally fine!" The words burst out in a panic-soaked rush before Kuroo could help himself. He forced himself to take a steadying inhale before continuing in a more modulated tone. "Yeah, we've just been...keeping busy and all while you're away. You know how she gets sometimes."

He winced at his own flustered rambling, but pressed on, desperate to steer the conversation away from dangerous territory. "Actually, it's kind of impressive. [Y/N] has really doubled down on her studies this week."

There was a pregnant pause on the other end before Kenma's responding laughter filtered through, dry and mildly disbelieving. "My [Y/N]? Studying voluntarily without being threatened bodily harm? Now I know you're kidding me, Kuroo."

Kuroo smiled thinly, well aware of how unlikely his claims sounded given your typical scholarly apathy. Still, he persisted, an idea sparking with sudden conviction. "I'm being totally serious, man. She's been holed up in her room almost nonstop, burying her nose in books and typing away at assignments. It's like she got body-snatched by a model honors student or something."

The laughter faded into skeptical quiet as Kenma seemed to realize his best friend wasn't joking around. "Wow...I, uh...I don't really know what to say," he admitted, sounding mildly bewildered. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled if she's taking her coursework seriously for once. But you have to admit it's a pretty drastic turnaround for my little hellraiser."

Kuroo couldn't help but grin ruefully at the apt description, old memories of teenage hellraising antics replaying in his mind's eye. "Tell me about it. I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop and some massive rager or scandal to emerge."

"Hey now, don't give her ideas!" Kenma's feigned scolding was tinged with paternal fondness that made Kuroo's chest clench unexpectedly. "I'm putting my faith in you to keep her on this suddenly motivated path."

"You got it, don't worry," Kuroo assured him, tamping down the reflexive urge to confess the twisted detours you'd nearly led him down already. He sighed, shifting the bakery box to his opposite hand as he stepped out into the dusky evening air. "I'll keep a close-"

His words trailed off abruptly as his gaze landed on a darkened alleyway across the street. There, illuminated by a security lamp's harsh glow, a couple was intertwined in a heated embrace against someone's parked car. More specifically, the unmistakable figure of a young woman in a criminally short dress was straddling her companion's lap, hands fisted in his hair as she devoured his mouth with wild abandon.

Despite the poor lighting, something about the tumble of hair and feminine curves sparked a flicker of disquieting familiarity in Kuroo's chest. He squinted, trying to make out more details before forcing out an awkward chuckle.

"Damn Kenma, you're never gonna believe what I'm looking at right now," he muttered, unable to tear his gaze from the brazen public display even as he cringed. "Some chick literally grinding on some poor bastard's car like she's filming the intro to a bad porno. And get this - she looks dead-on like [Y/N]!"

The crass attempt at humorous deflection died on his lips as the security lamp flared brighter, casting the woman's face into sharp relief. Because there was no mistaking the upturned nose, the sensuous curve of those lips currently trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her partner's stubbly jawline...

It was you.

His daughter. His precious, frustratingly impulsive little girl straddling a stranger in the filthiest backstreet grope Kuroo had ever witnessed...right under his nose while he regaled Kenma with laughable tales of your studious reformation.

Something seemed to splinter behind Kuroo's ribcage as numbness descended like a burial shroud. He barely registered Kenma's concerned voice buzzing against his ear until the words "...llo? Kuroo? You still there?" pierced through the fog.

"Uh...y-yeah, sorry," he stammered weakly, unable to tear his gaze away even as you gyrated against your would-be lover with shameless abandon. "No, you're...you're absolutely right. Just another unfounded worry on my part."

He forced out a hollow chuckle, bile stinging the back of his throat as his stare stubbornly remained transfixed. "Don't worry about a thing over here. Everything is...is totally under control as per usual..."

The lie dripped like acid from his numb lips, curdling what little remained of his composure into smoldering embers. Before Kenma could probe or contradict further, Kuroo managed to force out some pithy excuse about paperwork needing attention and quickly terminated the call.

He stood rooted in place, chest heaving with ragged breaths as he absorbed the full, damning picture before him. You - tender, smart, mature you who mere hours ago had sworn up and down to reform your rebellious ways - rutting against a stranger in the most brazen, obscene manner imaginable.

The girl Kuroo had admonished himself to protect above all else, even his own pitiful weaknesses, was practically unraveled beyond recognition before his eyes. And all he could do was stand helpless witness while the sordid tableau unfolded around him like the punchline to a particularly cruel, cosmic joke.

Kuroo's entire being detonated into an inferno of fury as he watched you grind shamelessly against the stranger, uncaring of the sordid public spectacle. Every muscle went taut, tendons straining beneath his skin as a crimson haze of rage descended.

Part of him raged at the brazen deception - the fresh wounds of your earnest vows to reform and focus on your studies still burning raw. He'd actually begun to entertain cautious hope that this tempestuous chapter between you might reach some semblance of equilibrium once more. But here you were, spitting on that fragile detente without a shred of remorse.

But an even larger part seethed with something darker, more visceral. A primal, proprietary need to rip you away from that defiling embrace and reclaim what was his by...what? Right? Possession? The twisted tangle of sinful cravings you'd awakened anew these past few days that now clamored to be sated at any cost?

Kuroo's jaw clenched hard enough to grind enamel as you threw back your head in apparent bliss, lips parting in a punched-out moan of shameless rapture. His vision whited out momentarily, entire body going rigid as that same bestial impulse to claim and conquer you flared with blinding intensity.

Before conscious thought could fully intervene, his legs propelled him across the street in long, devouring strides. You didn't even register his thunderous approach until he was upon you, one large hand fisting in the hair at your nape to wrench you backwards.

"What the everloving fuck do you think you're doing?" Kuroo's voice lashed out in a guttural snarl so unrecognizable, even he barely identified it.

You yelped at the violent snapping of your heads, features contorting in a wince of discomfort as you were forcibly separated from your would-be conquest. Your erstwhile partner blinked in shock before bristling indignantly.

"Hey man, what the hell is your pro-"

Kuroo whirled on the hapless stranger with a look of such barely leashed violence, the other man actually flinched back. You seized the momentary distraction to scramble off the car's hood, chest heaving and confusion written large across your delicate features.

"Tetsurou, what are you-"

But Kuroo cut off your protest by reaching out and fisting an iron grip in your upper arm. You gasped at the punishing force, squirming futilely as his fingers dug in without mercy.

"We're leaving," Kuroo spat out through grinding molars, hauling you bodily against his side. "Now."

The unfortunate bystander who'd had his lurid plans so rudely interrupted seemed to rally his machismo at last. Squaring his shoulders, he took an inadvisable step forward - fists clenched and chest puffed out in a transparent display of misguided intimidation.

"Hey pal, I don't know who the hell you are," he sneered in a tone that was almost laughably unthreatening to Kuroo. "But you need to back the fuck off before I make you. The lady and I were in the middle of something private."

You opened your mouth to protest or deflect - undoubtedly either an innocuous excuse or an outright attempt at sneaking away if Kuroo had to guess. But any chance of mitigating this catastrophic situation through words or hollow placation had already burned to ashes in his blistering fury.

"Shut your goddamn mouth before I shut it for you," Kuroo growled, voice descending to a register of pure hellfire and devouring intent.

He didn't wait for the confused fratboy to rally another feeble retort. With insulting ease, Kuroo dragged you around and slammed the smaller man against the hood of the same car that had been the backdrop to such sordid debauchery only moments ago.

"This woman is my girlfriend," he snarled directly into the man's ashen face, not even registering the lie as it spilled from his bile-stained tongue. "And if you so much as look at her the wrong way again, I'll bury you out here in a shallow fucking grave. Nod if you understand."

The other man nodded with frantic obedience, every trace of posturing now wiped away by the tangible promise of violence rolling off Kuroo in searing waves. He barely registered you trying to twist out of his bruising grip, frantically motioning towards the terrified bystander.

"T-Tetsurou, stop! You're scaring him!" You hissed through plump, swollen lips. "Just let me handle this, you're only making it worse!"

With a wordless rumble of unadulterated venom, Kuroo tightened his fist in your hair and wrenched your head aside until your full attention focused solely on him.

"Don't you dare try and control the narrative now, little girl," he spat in a tone laced with sulfur and sin. Noting your flicker of apprehension at the potent authority in his commanding rumble seemed to kickstart some sadistic amalgam of satisfaction and self-loathing in his gut. "You lost all privileges to dictate anything when you decided to spread your legs and make a whore of yourself five minutes ago in public like a desperate fucking slut."

Your eyes widened into saucers at the vulgar insult, color searing your cheeks to match the angry flush staining your chest. But you wisely remained silent, apparently sensing the knife's edge Kuroo now teetered upon.

Not sparing the traumatized third wheel so much as a glance, Kuroo finally released his grip only to seize your arm once more. He dragged you away from the sordid scene in a wake of your stumbling footfalls, beelines towards where his car idled with ruthless intent.

"I swear to every higher power listening," he growled through clenched teeth as he hauled you implacably forward. "If you so much as look at another man between here and home, I'll toss you in the trunk like a misbehaving pet."

You couldn't entirely muffle the wounded sound that wrenched free, even as the furious compliance in your strides never faltered. Kuroo relished the heady swirl of shame and debauched satisfaction with equal relish - an intoxicating amalgam of brutality and corruption that threatened to rip the very seams of his tattered control wide asunder.

The drive back to Kuroo's apartment passed in thick, seething silence. You huddled against the passenger door, arms wrapped defensively around your midsection as you steadfastly avoided Kuroo's burning glare. The air was choked with unspoken recriminations and simmering fury.

Kuroo's knuckles were bone-white where they gripped the steering wheel, tendons standing out in harsh relief against his forearms. His jaw muscles ticked and flexed as he ground his teeth, struggling to contain the torrent of anger and disappointment roiling just beneath the surface.

When they finally arrived, Kuroo threw the car into park with more force than necessary, the tires chirping in protest. Without a word, he flung open his door and stormed towards the building's entrance, expecting you to follow. The fact that you immediately fell into step behind him only stoked his ire further.

It wasn't until you were both inside, the apartment door slamming shut with an ominous thud, that the dam finally burst.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Kuroo's voice lashed out like a whip crack in the tense quiet. He turned on you, eyes blazing with a mix of fury and something darker, more visceral. "Going off half-cocked like some reckless teenager chasing the next cheap thrill?"

You lifted your chin defiantly, refusing to be cowed. "I don't need to explain myself to you, Kuroo. You're not my father."

"You're damn right I'm not," he growled, advancing until you were forced to tip your head back to maintain eye contact. "Because if I was, I'd have spanked your disobedient little ass into next week a long time ago."

Your nostrils flared, clearly affronted by his harsh words. "That's real rich coming from the guy who nearly mauled a complete stranger just because he was getting a little action."

A muscle in Kuroo's cheek twitched at your mocking insinuation. "Don't play dumb, [Y/N]. We both know that shameless display had nothing to do with a casual hookup. You were out there practically begging to be treated like a glorified street walker."

His voice was low, dangerous, but you didn't back down an inch. If anything, your eyes glinted with fresh belligerence.

"And what if I was?" You challenged, jutting your chin out stubbornly. "My body, my choice who I decide to allow all over it. What's it to you, really?"

Kuroo closed the remaining distance between you in two strides, his larger frame suddenly looming over yours in clear intimidation. But rather than shrink away, you simply tilted your head back further, almost goading him with your refusal to yield.

"You want to act like a selfish, rebellious brat who doesn't comprehend consequences?" His voice was a rough growl now. "Fine, we can do this the hard way."

Your eyes widened a fraction at the tacit threat, but you disguised any trace of unease with a derisive snort. "Oh yeah? You gonna put me over your knee too while you're playing stern disciplinarian? Because we both know how well that worked out last time."

There it was - the flash of unmistakable hunger flickering to lurid life behind Kuroo's stare. You saw it, knew exactly which button you'd just pressed to fan the flames of his smoldering temper into something...else entirely.

"Keep pushing me," he rumbled, so close now that his words puffed hot over your parted lips. "I'm begging you, princess. Give me one more bratty remark, one more button to justify bending you over and showing you exactly what dealing with a selfish little brat like you really entails."

There was a beat of loaded silence, the undercurrent between you becoming a live wire of yearning and reproach in equal measure. Your tongue darted out to wet your lower lip, and Kuroo's gaze tracked the motion with laser focus, a muscle feathering in his clenched jaw.

"Is that a promise?" The words were little more than a throaty rasp, both challenge and outright invitation wrapped in velvet sin.

Kuroo's harsh exhale ruffled your hair, the sound more akin to a predator's growl than anything remotely human. Then, without warning, his hands landed on your hips in an unforgiving grip as he wrenched you flush against his rigid frame.

The breath stalled in your lungs as they finally breached that last fraying tether of resistance. One of you moaned - you couldn't tell who - before your mouths collided in a bruising, frantic clash of lips and teeth and shuddering need.

Kuroo's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips hard enough to leave lurid blossoms of mottled imprints as he wrenched you against the searing brand of his cock. A ragged growl tore from deep in his chest - part exaltation, part feral conquest - as your bodies collided with heated friction.

"You want this so fucking bad, don't you?" The words emerged in a gravel-roughened rasp that seemed to reverberate straight through to your molten core. "All those pouty little teases and wanton displays, just baiting me to give you exactly what your greedy body has been begging for."

He didn't give you a chance to respond before crushing his mouth over yours in a bruising, devouring kiss that rapidly turned slick and filthy. His tongue swept past your gasping lips to lash against yours in blatant possession, searing paths of possession that seared straight down to your quivering center as surely as any physical brand.

You whimpered against the onslaught, hands scrabbling up Kuroo's broad back to clench in the taut musculature knotted there. His hips rolled against you with a carnal grind of dominance that made you instinctively part your thighs wider in helpless invitation.

Kuroo noted your wanton display instantly, growling his viciously smug approval against the vulnerable curve of your throat where his scorching path led next.

"Fuck, look at you..." he rasped in a tone transmuted to pure gravel-laced decadence. "So goddamn desperate to take everything I've got already, and I've barely even begun claiming what's mine."

His fingers squeezed even tighter into the giving flesh of your ass, hauling you up until you were forced to lock your legs around his narrow hips to avoid tumbling fully into his punishing momentum. Kuroo took advantage instantly, rutting against your cloth-dampened heat with searing undulations that made your head fall back on a breathless moan.

"That's it, beautiful," he growled against the rapid flutter of your pulse point before lathing a heated path along the bared slope with his tongue. "Let me feel every one of those pretty little whimpers you've been dying to release..."

One large palm slid higher to palm the generous swell of your breast with merciless ownership. Your back arched as if electrified, nipples pebbling to diamond-sharp points that were promptly soothed by the calloused friction of Kuroo's palm kneading the swollen curves.

"A single night of you taunting me with that heavenly body was almost my undoing," Kuroo confessed in a fractured rasp that set your nerves afire. His lush lips branded a molten path up the vulnerable column of your throat until you trembled against him fully.

"Fuck...I can only imagine how quickly I would've self-destructed if I'd had you spread out and waiting for me with those big eyes begging for my cock night after night..."

Your entire body seized at the guttural benediction, walls fluttering against the scorching outline of Kuroo's cock still rutting against you with blistering intent. He swallowed your keening whimper with another punishing kiss that left you dizzy - tasting coppery crimson and utterly overwhelmed in the wake of his ruthless dominion.

By the time he tore his mouth from yours at last, you were quaking against him like a leaf in a storm - overwrought and delirious with a forbidden inferno now raging unchecked.

"Stay with me..." Kuroo entreated in a cadence that felt scored straight into your flayed nerves. The calloused rasp of his fingertips trailed rioting spirals of shattered restraint as he petted your sweat-dampened tresses back from your flushed features.

"Stay right here while I finally put that dirty little mouth of yours to use..." He ground out the barely-cloaked threat through gritted teeth. Those piercing hazel eyes you'd admired for so long now sparked with more lust and menace and proprietary challenge blazing behind them than you'd ever glimpsed before.

And the most terrifying part was how it didn't make you quail or retreat but rather molten thrills of eagerness knot in your quivering belly as Kuroo slowly lowered you back to your shaky feet. Heat sang straight through your veins at whatever reckoning had finally been unleashed between you...and how utterly powerless you felt to halt its all-consuming torrents even if you'd wanted to.

Kuroo stepped back at last, allowing you space enough to sway in dizzy abandon at the sudden deprivation of his scorching embrace. He watched you with the heated focus of a starving man beholding the most decadent delicacy - eyes burning over every trembling inch as his chest heaved with ragged drafts.

Then he lifted one hand towards you in a cruelly languid beckoning that made your entire body ignite with fevered possibility. That same hand you'd felt cradle your cheek was now extended imperiously, awaiting the benediction of total capitulation from your wrecked, overblown form.

"Come here..." Kuroo husked out with quiet promise that brooked no refusal. "And let me feel that greedy little cunt stretched around me while I teach it some manners for once."

With a strangled gasp, you stumbled forward on leaden legs. You didn't dare tear your gaze away from the predator's eyes that pinned you with such carnal hunger. Didn't risk shattering this fever-dream of temptation and utter ruination that seemed poised to engulf you completely.

When you were within arm's reach, Kuroo wasted no time, wrenching you flush against him with a bruising grip on your hip. Your lips parted in a startled gasp at the searing contact of his rigid cock grinding against the soaked gusset of your panties, but before any sound could escape, Kuroo had already seized the back of your neck with his other hand.

Your eyes flew wide in shock at the sheer possessive weight of his grip pinning you in place. But even as you tried to wrench away, a sharp slap across your ass stilled you immediately.

"That's right, beautiful," Kuroo purred, low and deadly. He rocked his hips in a punishing roll against the soaked seam of your underwear that made you shudder in helpless bliss. "You've got no say anymore. Not when you decided to behave like a reckless, attention-starved little brat and beg for someone else's cock like a cheap whore. No..."

He gave a rough, rumbling growl that vibrated all the way down your spine. Your toes curled against the floor, thighs quivering with the effort to remain upright under the onslaught. His words were like a physical brand, scorching their way through the remnants of your tattered resistance.

"From now on, I own every inch of you, including that perfect pussy," he crooned, the filthy promise making your cunt clench. "Every single delectable inch is mine to do with as I please. And if that means teaching you a lesson in the process..."

You could feel his smirk against your ear, the sharp, dangerous edge of it making you whimper. His palm slid from your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat with a firm pressure. Your eyes fluttered closed at the deliciously heady sensation, pulse fluttering under his touch.

"Then so be it."

You squealed as Kuroo suddenly lifted you off your feet, his hands gripping the back of your thighs to hoist them up and around his waist. Without a word, he started carrying you toward his bedroom, a small, distant corner of your brain marveling at his effortless strength.

Your back collided with his mattress a moment later, the abrupt impact forcing the air from your lungs in a startled gasp. Kuroo stood over you, hands working furiously at the buckle of his belt and the button of his slacks. The sight made something dark and twisted unravel deep in your belly, a need so overwhelming it threatened to drown you entirely.

The belt came free first, followed shortly by his pants. He made no move to remove them, simply lowering his boxers just enough to free the engorged length of his cock. The sight stole your breath all over again, your eyes greedily drinking in the sight of the thick, veiny shaft, already dripping with an ungodly amount of precum.

You didn't get long to stare, though, because a second later, Kuroo was grabbing your ankle and dragging you towards the edge of the bed. You yelped at the unexpected jolt, hands scrabbling for purchase in the soft sheets beneath you as he flipped your body around with ruthless ease.

His cock was now directly above your face, the tip dripping with need. With a low groan, Kuroo wrapped his fist around his throbbing shaft, pumping it slowly as his free hand grabbed the back of your head. Your scalp prickled at the sudden tug on your hair, a low, wounded sound escaping the back of your throat.

"You wanted this so bad, remember?" he grunted. His hand continued to pump his length, the head inches from your lips. You could see the way his cock twitched, hear the obscene sounds his hand made as he stroked himself, and your tongue darted out to swipe across your lower lip.

"Beg for it."

The command was simple and straightforward. Yet it struck at the deepest, most secret part of you, the part that was so desperate to be claimed, used, and ravaged, no matter the consequences. The part that had been aching for him since the day you'd first stayed with him.

"Please..." The word came out as a whine, pathetic and pitiful and needy. "Kuroo, please. Please fuck my mouth. Use me, however you want. I'm yours."

"Yes, you are," he rumbled. His hand tightened in your hair, pulling your face up to meet his cock. It slapped against your cheek, sticky pre-cum smearing along your skin, and a moan spilled from your lips. "Mine."

The tip of his cock dragged along your cheek, up towards your parted lips. It brushed across them, leaving a trail of his essence that you eagerly licked up, the bitter-salt taste flooding your mouth.

Kuroo groaned above you, eyes dark and dangerous and so fucking hungry. He thrust forward, cock sliding into your waiting mouth, and the world narrowed to that point of contact, the sensation of his length pressing against your tongue.

You moaned around his girth, and Kuroo's eyes fluttered closed, a hiss escaping him. He held your head in place as he began to fuck your mouth in slow, shallow thrusts, cock gliding along your tongue.

Your body felt alight with need, skin burning and prickling and electrified. Everything was too much and not enough, the air charged with anticipation and desire and an undercurrent of desperation. Your thighs pressed together, trying to alleviate some of the building pressure, and a muffled cry escaped you at the friction.

Kuroo opened his eyes at the sound, gaze darting down to where you squirmed on the bed. A low chuckle rumbled from him, and he withdrew his cock, letting it hover in front of your face. A thin trail of spit and pre-cum connected the tip to your lips, and the sight sent a shiver through you, made you clench around nothing.

"Is someone feeling left out?" Kuroo murmured, voice dripping with wicked promise. You nodded, unable to speak, and his cock twitched, another bead of pre-cum leaking from the slit.

"Then be a good girl and get yourself off for me. I want to watch while I fuck your mouth."

He waited until you'd shifted onto your knees, hand sliding down your belly, before plunging back inside your mouth. You moaned, the vibrations making his cock twitch, and slid your fingers underneath the band of your panties.

Your arousal was coating the insides of your thighs, had likely left a damp spot on the sheets beneath you, and you bit back a whine at the slick, gliding sensation as you ran two fingers along your folds. They slipped inside effortlessly, your walls already pulsing and hot and so, so needy.

Kuroo watched it all with an intensity that was both thrilling and terrifying, the hand not holding your head steady flexing into a fist as he fought for control. His hips rocked into you with more purpose, and your own fingers found the spot that had you seeing stars.

The room filled with the wet, squelching sounds of your fingers pumping into your pussy, the slap of Kuroo's balls hitting your chin, and his deep, guttural moans. Your free hand came up to cup his balls, and he growled, thrusting deeper into your mouth.

"Fuck," he rasped. His eyes were hooded, and you could feel him swelling in your mouth. "Take your panties off. I want to see you cum with my cock down your throat."

You shuddered at the crude words, pulling your soaked fingers from your dripping pussy and hooking them around the fabric to pull it down your legs. It fell to the floor, and you spread your thighs wider, fingers diving back to the apex of your legs.

A strangled noise tore from Kuroo's throat, and he thrust harder, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each snap of his hips. His pace was growing erratic, and you could tell he was close, could feel his balls tightening in your palm.

You pumped your fingers faster, the pressure in your belly building, coiling tighter and tighter. You were so fucking close, and the knowledge that Kuroo was seconds away from blowing his load down your throat was almost enough to send you over the edge.

"Look at me."

You obeyed instantly, eyes locking onto his. The intensity of his gaze nearly shattered you, the raw desire, the possessive hunger, the sheer need written on his face. Your walls clenched around your fingers, and the dam broke, a gush of liquid heat spilling from your core as you came.

Kuroo swore, his eyes fixed on the puddle of cum soaking into the sheets, and then his hips stuttered, cock jerking violently as he came. Hot, sticky ropes of cum coated your throat, and you swallowed around his length, milking him for every last drop.

His chest was heaving when he finally pulled out, his fist releasing its hold on your hair to lazily squeeze the remnants of his orgasm onto your lips. You opened without thinking, licking his cum from your lips as it fell, and Kuroo groaned.

"Fucking hell, you're perfect," he breathed, tucking his cock back into his boxers. He bent to scoop you up in his arms, cradling you to his chest like a precious treasure. "Kenma raised a fucking goddess. I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to ever let you leave this bed now."

The rest of your stay was a haze of sweat-slicked skin, tangled sheets, and broken cries. Kuroo spent the remainder of the week fucking you every way he could, on every available surface, until you could no longer think straight, until your legs were trembling from exertion and you were covered in a multitude of love bites and hickeys.

But the one thing that stuck with you most, the image that had been burned into your mind from the moment you'd arrived, was the look of pure, undiluted worship in Kuroo's eyes.

And it was that look that made you realize you would never be able to leave him, not for good. Because somewhere between the late-night talks and the teasing banter and the way he looked at you, Tetsurou had taken root in your heart.

The day of Kenma's return dawned with an electric undercurrent thrumming through the apartment. You stirred against Kuroo's furnace-hot skin, roused by the featherlight caresses he was trailing down the dips of your spine.

"He'll be here soon," Kuroo murmured, the graveled timbre of his morning voice making you shiver. There was an unspoken weight behind the words, an acknowledgment that your insular haven was nearing its inevitable end.

Rather than being cowed by the looming presence of reality, you felt a defiant spark flare to life in your core. Pushing up to your knees, you allowed the tangled sheet to slip sinuously from your body in a gauzy susurration until you knelt gloriously bare before Kuroo's riveted stare.

"Then we'd better make the most of our time left," you breathed, bracing your palms on his powerful chest as you straddled his hips purposefully.

Kuroo's hands flexed against your waist, fingers digging in with delicious possession. "You're insatiable, baby girl." His voice dropped an octave, dripping with undisguised sin. "Thought I'd have worked some of that greedy energy out of you by now."

"You'll just have to try harder then, won't you?" You leaned down to slant your lips over his in a messy, eager clash.

Kuroo surged upright with a growl, rolling you both until he caged you beneath the solid brand of his weight. His broad palms mapped scorching paths down your body until he was gripping the underside of your knees. Then he shoved your pliant legs apart to make room for his cock to grind forward in one slick, insistent thrust.

You cried out at the searing friction, back bowing as he bottomed out within your velvet depths. Kuroo swallowed the ragged sound with a searing kiss, setting a punishing pace that knocked the breath from your lungs.

"That's it, babygirl," he growled against the swell of your gasping lips. "Open up and take every thick inch of me while you still can..."

He drove into you then with undisguised relish, the bed frame creaking ominously beneath you. You locked your ankles at the small of Kuroo's back to brace yourself, fingertips scoring delicious crimson streaks along the corded ridges until your shared grunts and rough gasps filled the room.

You lost track of how many times he brought you to that shattering precipice, your cries reaching a fevered peak before Kuroo dragged you inexorably back over the edge with each new brutal joining. Only the muffled buzzing of Kenma's text chime finally caused Kuroo to slow his insistent rhythm.

"Looks like daddy's on his way up," he rumbled, sweat-slick hair hanging in wild disarray around his beautifully wrecked features.

Pinning you with a smoldering look of pure sin, Kuroo rose onto his knees, thick forearms flexing as he gripped your hips and heaved them upward to allow even deeper penetration.

"Time for one more ride, beautiful. Make it loud so he knows exactly who his little girl belongs to now..."

[menagerofmischief]

shrimp cocktail, cold appetizer, lobster, coca-cola, yes dessert, served by oscar piastri

Dia's Diner Menu

shrimp cocktail rivals to lovers cold appetizer rough sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy" coca-cola somnophillia dessert aftercare

Oscar Piastri x Ferrari!driver!reader

TW: one bed trope, unprotected sex (wrap you willy please), sleep dry humping

WC: 2k

A/N: I enjoyed writing this one a lot. Also I wanted to say I'm so thankful to all of you that sent requests and that I can't wait to write all of them but you'll maybe have to be patient with me because I'm a student and am pretty busy with school. I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one.

Some bigger force, God or karma or fate or whatever else there is, was definitely out to get me. Because this had to be the worst fucking night of my life. I’m not being dramatic when I say that.

Why was this the worst night of my life?

We just made it to Singapore for the upcoming Grand Prix and went straight to our hotel. The whole grid was staying at the same place since it made things more convenient. I go up to the reception to check in and get the key to my room, all but ready to collapse into the mattress and sleep the jet lag off. 

“I’m so sorry Miss,” the receptionist says, tapping her fingers against the keyboard, glancing up at me every few seconds. Finally she looks up, her expression apologetic. “It seems there was a mistake with the booking and we double booked your room.”

I fight off the urge to groan and roll my eyes, instead plastering a smile on my face. “It’s fine, it’s not that big of a deal. Just put me in whatever room is available.”

She makes a face, looking down at the computer again and then returning her gaze to mine. “I really am sorry but there are no other rooms available right now.”

Now I really did groan. “Fantastic. Can I know who the other person occupying the room will be?”

Before the receptionist had the chance to answer, my worst nightmare in human form came up to the desk, standing right next to me. “Hello. I’m here to check in - it’s under Oscar Piastri.”

The woman - I finally glanced at her name tag, seeing her name was Alice - looked between us, then down at the computer before looking at us again. “Sir, as I was just explaining to the lady here, the hotel double booked your room by accident.”

“It’s fine just put me in a -”

“There’s no available rooms.” I cut him off. “Just the one.”

Oscar looked at me, narrowing his eyes. McLaren’s golden boy, affectionately nicknamed ‘the polite cat’ by the fans was the biggest thorn in my side for a long while now. Everything started back in F2 with our on track rivalry which grew with each race. Then I signed into F1, fulfilling my childhood dreams of racing in red and thought I escaped him. I thought too soon apparently because after my announcement post, his followed soon and I was once again back on track with him.

Did I have a reason to hate him? Absolutely! Was it awfully petty and possibly over-dramatic? Very likely. It was my first race in F2, I was about to finish P2 it was amazing. Then he crashed into me and drove us both into the wall, causing us both to DNF and lose out on a podium.

We have hated each other ever since.

“It’s okay - we’ll share.” Oscar’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, quickly turning my head to look at him.

“What!?”

Oscar took the key from Alice and dangled it in front of me, a smirk on his face. “I said we’re gonna be bunking.” He pulled the handle of his suitcase, “Come on then, Y/n”

✿ ✿ ✿

“You stay on your side of the room,” I said, putting the chair in the middle of the room to make it a half marker. “And I’ll stay on mine.” The one queen size bed would definitely be a problem as well, but one I would mention later.

“And how are you gonna go the bathroom since it’s on my side?” He asked, his voice holding a teasing tone.

“Bathroom if free ground, hallway too” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.

Oscar’s gaze dropped down, stayed for a few seconds and then his eyes met mine again. He hummed, “And if I wanna open the window then what? Since it’s on your side.”

“Don’t act smart,” I told him. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“You wound me!” He gasped, pressing a hand over his heart.

“Shame it’s not fatal.”

✿ ✿ ✿

This was definitely the weirdest night of my life.

With only one bed in the room, no couch and neither of us willing to put our body in uncomfortable positions sleeping on the chair or on the floor, night before practice - Oscar and I made an agreement to share the bed.

One of the extra blankets from the closet was bunched up and put down the middle of the bed separating the two us. Not that it served much purpose considering that it was kicked down and off the bed while we were sleeping.

I woke up, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the dark and then I felt it. The slow, yet desperately feral rolls, the pressure and the pleasure. I had to press a hand against my mouth to stop myself from moaning, taking in deep harsh breaths through my nose.

I came to a realization about three things, so goes:

Oscar had moved a bigger part of his body onto my side of the bed.

He had pulled me close and caged me in his arms sometimes during the night.

He was grinding his very much hard cock into me -  in his sleep.

My cheeks were on fire and it felt like the rest of my body was too. The pajamas, which I purposely picked out because of how light they were, felt suffocating now.

I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done, my body moving on its own. One leg pushing slightly forward, opening just enough space for Oscar’s hips to chase mine and my ass slowly barely grinding back into him.

I was enjoying this much more than I should have and it was wrong. God, it was so wrong. But when his erection was rubbing so perfectly against me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I was wet, I knew I was. I could feel how soaked my panties had gotten and the uncomfortable feel of my slick underwear did not escape me. As the pressure increased I couldn’t help but let out a moan.

The noise felt deafening in the silent room and my eyes widened. Oscar’s body stilled and my breath caught in my throat, the dread of having woken him with my moans taking over me.

A moment passed, two moments passed. Then Oscar’s hands tightened around my body, pulling me even closer to him, my ass pressed just against the outline of his dick. One of his hands moved down my stomach, dipping into the waistband of my sleeping shorts and going straight down into my panties.

He ran a finger through my folds, coating it in my slick and it took everything in me not to moan. “You’re fucking dripping,” his voice in my ear made me freeze. Awake afterall. “This wet from me humping you? And here I thought you hated me.”

The pad of his finger touched my clit, a gasp falling from my lips at the pleasurable feeling. “Did you enjoy me rutting into you while I was sleeping, you dirty dirty girl?” He added more pressure, rubbing circles on my clit and this time I didn’t hold my moans back. “Woke up halfway through, when you started grinding your ass on me like a bitch in heat. You seemed so into it, I thought I’d just keep going.”

“Wasn’t,” I whispered.

“What was that?” He growled into my ear.

“Wasn’t grinding on you,” I said, through gritted teeth.

His fingers pinched my clit and my whole body surged forward, mouth falling open to let out a loud moan. “Don’t lie,” he said, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh don’t worry sweetheart, you will.”

Oscar pulled his fingers out of my panties, making me whine at the loss of friction on my clit. His chuckle vibrated through the room. He got up onto his knees on the bed, arms coming forward to grab my shoulders, and pulled me roughly so I was laying on my back.

I couldn’t help but look at him above me. His eyes were full of lust, pupils blown wide and cheeks red. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, he looked absolutely ethereal. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said, fingers hooking into the waistband of my sleeping shorts.

I held his gaze, a shaky breath falling from my mouth. “Don’t stop.”

In one move he pulled down both my shorts and my panties, throwing them behind him without a care. Then he took off his own shorts, followed by his boxers - that ended up being thrown somewhere too. He pulled me up enough to take my top off, and then pushed me down again, leaving me completely bare. 

Oscar leaned over me, his mouth drawn in a smirk, his breath hot on my face. “Tell me not to kiss you.”

“Kiss me,” I whispered. He didn’t waste a second, as soon as the words were out of my mouth he was surging forward, his lips pressing harshly against mine, tongue pushing into my mouth. He pulled slightly back, my lip caught before his teeth and he gently bit down, making me whine into his mouth.

“Fuck me,” I panted into his mouth. “Please just -”

I didn’t get to finish what I was saying as he pushed himself into me fully in one go, making me scream. His hand pressed against my mouth, muffling the noises I was making. “Do you want to wake the whole hotel up?” He asked as he began thrusting, pulling himself out until only the tic was still in me and then forcefully pushing back in again. “Some people came here to sleep, not to listen to you moaning like a whore on my cock.”

His other hand went between us to rub my clit. I was practically sobbing as he worked his fingers in fast circles around my clit while roughly thrusting into me. My vision was blurred with tears that were spilling from the corners on my eyes.

Oscar’s hand moved only a little, leaving room for me to speak but close enough for my lips to brush against his palm with each word. “Cum,” I babbled. “Gonna cum! Oscar, please!”

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Gonna cum for me like a good little slut? Go on then - cum”

I came with a moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and caging him in. Oscar fucked me trough my orgasm, his own following. He twitched inside of me before cumming, painting my walls and making me whine at how full I felt.

He pulled out of me slowly and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. After a moment he returned with a wet, probably warm, towel in his hands. He kneeled on the bed and gently spread my legs with his hands.

“Fuck,” Oscar groaned. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy.” His fingers dipped to collect some of his cum which had spilled out of me and was slowly dripping towards my ass, and pushed it back into me, causing me to gasp.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead and somehow my cheeks burned ever hotter. After he gently cleaned me up and terrorized me to drink water, he laid down in bed next to me and pulled my body into his, arms wrapping around me.

“Are you finally going to let me take you out to dinner?” He asked, his voice husky and breath hot against the side of my face.

I hummed, my eyes barely open and already feeling sleepy. “Don’t crash into me while I’m winning on Sunday and we’ll see.”

“That was one time!”

I chuckled, placing my hands over his hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”

Believe it or not this might have actually turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.

[nackrosor]

~Your Wish~

(Part 3/3)

Part 1 - Part 2

Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader

warnings/tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con (with very dubious p in v), power dynamics, mommy issues, Brahms is a perv through and through

word count: 2,9k.

author's notes: this is the filthiest thing I've ever written, I swear. I tried to imbue this with all my naughtiness lmao I hope it was enough! Also, here's some art I made 'cause I'm that generoussss. I hope you enjoy the food! Bon appétit! 🤤🌹

"Did I scare you, Y/N? I didn't mean to..." 

He grimaced at the way his child voice came out broken and less convincing than usual, but in his state, even simply speaking was a feat.

You had been sluggishly fighting against his persistent grip on you, yet once you heard him speak, a loud gasp of shock escaped you, and your body stiffened under his. The way you tensed up made your back arch and your ass stick out even more. His focus shifted to your half-clad bottom, which was hovering only inches from his face. The drenched fabric of your panties had somehow stuck to the side, teasing him - torturing him - with that mouthwavering sight of you. 

Oh, what a struggle it was for him to refrain from seeking your heat again and then shoving himself inside you, once and for all. He was shivering with restraint while proceeding to keep you pinned to the mattress. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold himself back, though.

He wanted you to know who he was before he finally and thoroughly claimed you as his. His pride somehow exceeded his yearning.

"B-Brahms...?" You hesitantly whispered his name, hoping to catch a glimpse of him behind your shoulder. You could only make out a dark silhouette in your peripheral vision, for both the darkness of the room and his tight clasp prevented you from seeing anything else. "How-? W-what?"

Your voice was a little louder this time, and you sounded sharper. He also noticed with satisfaction that you were now remaining still under his hold. That was good. It would make things easier. He'd prefer not to fight you, not to force you... But if you were to refuse him... He would not hold back... He couldn't...

"You don't have to be alone anymore in this big, scary house." 

He made sure to stress out the last words, the same ones you used when you had confided your wish to the doll. He wanted you to understand… That wicked side of him wanted you to realise that he had always been there, watching you, listening in on you... That you have never truly been alone.

"Aren't you happy?"

He couldn't hide the impatience in his voice. His palm pressed harder onto your spine, imperceptibly rubbing up and down, seeking your touch. He found himself edging closer to you, his mask nearly touching your asscheek, his other hand ready to commit another despicable sin, the worst one yet.

“Let me see you? Please?"

He stopped in his tracks, momentarily stunned by your words.

You had asked so sweetly, your voice such a gentle caress to his ears, how could he have declined your request? After all, he had longed to have those gorgeous eyes of yours fall on him, finally seeing him, since the first day. And what would have been better than having you looking at him as he ravished you? Watching lust twist your features, the pleasure - he was igniting in you - flooding your lovely eyes. A shuddering breath escaped his lips as the vivid image arose in his mind, aggravating the torture.

Brahms loosened his grip, allowing you to turn around and lie on your back. As soon as your eyes met his, you let out another loud gasp. His gut flipped at the way your wide eyes flitted across his mask, chest, thighs, taking him all in.

You saw him. You were looking at him. Ah, what a dream... What a dream come true...

He wondered what was going through your pretty little head. How did it make you feel to know that the kid's voice you've occasionally heard reverberating through the mansion over the past few weeks hadn't come from a possessed doll or an imprisoned spirit... But from him. Your Brahms, in flesh and blood.

“B-Brahms…”

The way you tentatively called his name while looking up at him like a deer in the headlights was pure bliss.

He nodded enthusiastically in response and drew closer to you. His gaze flickered from your face to your hand, which he noticed slowly reaching up in his direction. He jerked back instantly out of reflex, frightened like a beaten dog meeting a loving hand for the first time, but as soon as he realized there was no threat in your intentions, he leaned back in and allowed you to touch his mask. Oh, how he yearned to feel your soft palm caressing his wounded cheek... to feel your gentle touch skin on skin… But that would have to be enough for the moment.

Now that he had your full attention. Now that you knew who he was and that no harm would come from him… with your eyes staring up at him with such awe and wonder… 

He couldn't wait any longer. 

His hand eagerly slipped between your thighs, fingers greedily seeking your heat. He caught with utmost satisfaction the way your eyes widened again, your lips parting to let out a shocked cry; you looked so adorable… so desirable… so vulnerable…

He kept his ever-attentive gaze fixed on you, desperate to catch your every reaction, as he stroked your wet folds and teased your entrance.

“W-what are you… Ah!~”

A tremor pierced him as he felt your body tremble so sharply when he easily entered you, triggering a loud whine from you as he drove his fingers deep into your walls.

His breathing was extremely shallow, and he could see your chest raise and fall as you began panting as well; the sight only served to add fuel to his burning desire, leaving him eager to make you cry and shiver just like that over and over again. 

His movement against you was firm but frantic, fueled by his long-repressed need, which was causing him to shudder and whimper as he fingered you. He had no idea what he was doing, but your moans and squeals were guiding and urging him to keep hitting that spongy spot deep inside you which seemed to make you scream the loudest.

“N-no… W-w-wait…”

Your hands shakily reached down to seize his and halt his actions, but he quickly grasped your wrists and pinned them both on your belly, holding them down with one palm while continuining on driving his fingers back and forth, unrelentingly, into you. He could tell you liked it, the lewd sounds you were making told him as much. He knew his actions were pleasing you. Your cunt was so wet, and your walls welcomed his long fingers with such hunger, swallowing them fully with each push.

How would it feel to sink inside you? To have your tight, spongy walls suck and squeeze his cock dry? Would his cum leak back out? It always did when he used his doll, the one he had turned to look just like you… He constantly had to push his fluids back inside the hole…

“Brahms... S-stop… Ah!”

Your broken whimpers sounded so cute. You were so cute. What were you asking of him? Certainly not to stop. Not that he would or could. The feeling of making you squirm under his touch was intoxicating, a feeling he had just discovered and yet couldn't get enough of. He had already grown addicted. The sight of you laying there completely vulnerable, completely his, was filling him with such a rush of euphoria. 

He released your wrists, disregarding the way you immediately but weakly started tugging at his hand again in protest. Instead, he reached down to his trousers, letting out a deep guttural grunt when he felt the dampness of the material, soaked with his seed. Leaked precum? Or did he burst into his pants without even realising? It didn't matter. His cock was hard and throbbing when he grabbed it, ready to slip out of the restraining cloth and finally sink inside you… He couldn’t wait, oh no, he couldn’t wait anymore-

“I said stop!” 

His entire body shuddered violently, and his senses suddenly sharpened as if he had just awoken from a trance. Both his hands abruptly came to a halt.

He wasn't sure if he was shaking more from the thrill your imposing tone caused in him or the excruciating hunger that was gnawing at him, demanding to be satiated. Possibly both combined given the intensity of the tension that had taken hold of his body.

Brahms stared at you with bated breath and childish fear, like a misbhehaving boy caught in the act of some deplorable deeds by his strict mother. He didn't dare to make a sound nor move an inch as he waited to be scolded.

A strange glint passed your eyes, one that he could barely catch, let alone decipher. However, your entire demeanour seemed to alter abruptly in response to his reaction.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He gasped. A flood of dread shook his entire being and made his stomach churn upon hearing your stern tone. Did he upset you? Were you angry at him? He couldn't bear it. Oh no… He only wished to please you... Only ever wished to please you...

"What were you doing, mh?" 

Brahms vehemently shook his head, his panicked gaze glued on your hard look. 

“Brahms.”

Your commanding tone made him shudder again. He cowered, crouching down and dropping his head on your lap. He didn't dare admit what he was about to do, what he had been doing long before you woke up.

"Brahms!"

He felt your hands pull on his arms, but he only pressed his head further against you, burying his face in your womb, his whimpers muffled by your skin. His hands reached to your sides, holding you vehemently but not threateningly. He wanted to show you how good he was. How good he could be for you. He was sorry. Yes. He was terribly sorry. He would never upset you again.  

"Please…" He pleaded in his childish voice, nuzzling his forehead into your belly.

"Please, what?"

He tightened his grip on your sides and cried again, "Pleaseee… I need you…" 

His meekness only increased as you delayed to answer. His hands cradled your body, fingers clutching desperately at your nightgown and creasing the material. His head anxiously swayed back and forth as he rubbed his mask against you.

"Use your real voice."

Another tremor shook his body and he quickly obeyed your command. 

"I need you."

His voice came out low and hoarse, such a stark contrast to his childish tone. It caused a vibration in your tummy. He could feel how your body shivered in reaction. 

Raising his head to meet your gaze, he noticed that your eyes had widened significantly. Was it because of his voice? The way he begged? Did you like it? He could beg you again and again in his real voice, if it pleased you so. If that meant you’d let him have you.

"I need you, please…" 

His fingers travelled slowly along your sides, gingerly getting closer to your panties again, quivering with impatience and constraint. He kept his imploring look on you as he stroked his fingertips on the damp fabric before slipping them inside to rub against your folds once more. 

He saw your eyelids flutter and your chest rise harshly as you took a deep breath.

He whimpered as he felt your fingers weave into his curls and then capture them abruptly in a tight clasp.

"Lay down, Brahms." 

He merely lingered for a moment to process what you had requested of him. Then he did it. He lay down on the mattress without question. Eager to please you. Desperate to be in your good graces. He would do anything for you. 

His entire body was trembling with anticipation, a deep-seated urge to be touched threatening to overtake him as you climbed on top of him, claiming his former position. His body craved your touch so badly, yet he had to wait until you decided to put him out of his misery.

“You’re such a naughty boy. You know that?”

When he felt your weight on him and your groin sitting directly on his bulge, he felt his breath catch in his throat and his hips buck up instinctively. Only his unbuttoned pants separated his arousal from your heat.

He was losing his mind…

"Nobody ever taught you that's not how good boys are supposed to behave, mh?"

More whimpers flowed from his parted lips as you began to grind against him, painfully slowly but with force. He struggled to keep his eyes open and locked in yours; his quivering hands went up to hold your hips, seeking to control your movements, but you intercepted them and forced them down on the pillow on either side of his face. He let you keep them still.

"Please…"

"I will teach you… Yes, yes... I will teach you. Bad boys never get their way, no matter how much or how long they beg."

Brahms had always obtained whatever he wanted since he was a little boy. If he couldn't have it, he'd take it himself. But he wasn't going to admit it to you. He merely groaned and twitched in response, every inch of his body ignited by your leisurely and frustrating movement against him.

He craved being inside you... To spill his load deep within your core... but he was so worked up… he had been holding back for so long, too long… and the way you moved was so rousing, provoking him just enough to…

His body abruptly convulsed underneath you, a deep sigh of relief escaping from his lips as a dark and large wet stain appeared on the material of his trousers. All of the desire coursing through him reached a fever pitch that consumed every inch of his body.

He had never experienced such an intense and violent orgasm before. He had jerked off numerous times, but cumming never felt so good... 

Brahms was still trembling and panting when his eyes opened again to meet yours. You had stopped moving when he started spasming. Even in the dark, he could see the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes were wide and glazed as they stared down at him, your own breath coming in short. 

"F-Fuck-"

His eyes were fixed on you, watching you as you gulped and shivered, clearly shaken by what had just happened. Your gaze kept darting back and forth between his pants and mask. When he felt your hands release his wrists, he pulled yours back, drawing you forward and causing you to fall on top of him with a yelp.

Brahms buried his face into the crook of your neck. Your scent was stronger than before, his nostrils filled with your natural aroma. His fingers trailed over your skin, feeling how clammy it was and relishing the way you shivered at the touch. He moved on along the curve of your neck until he reached the edge of your nightgown and peeled it down without hesitation, this time dragging it low enough to prevent it from rolling back up. The sight of your breasts made his stomach flip, just like it had done the first time. His body started to become stiffer once more. 

“Again…” he whispered breathlessly as he lifted your torso so you could sit on his lap just like before, straddling his groin. He could feel himself getting harder all over again. He could not possibly resist you.

"B-Brahms?"

His hands greedily mapped your body, groping every curve and dip they found. His touch soon became frantic and urgent.

"Again, again, again!"

He hastily freed his growing erection from his pants and without giving you time to register what was happening, he seized your waist and pulled you down onto him. 

At last, you had become one. 

The quiet room filled with both his and your moans of pleasure, which only grew louder as Brahms started guiding your hips up and down, each time with greater force, allowing him to fully sink into you. You were so warm, and the way your tight walls clenched around his cock was more intoxicating than he could have anticipated. It was maddening. The sound of your cunt slapping against his groin was the the best sound he had ever heard. He mentally added it to the list of pleasures he had so quickly become addicted to and sought to experience again and again and again...

He was a mess of sweat and whimpers and tremors, and so were you. 

Ah, to finally have you! To finally take you as his! This was everything he had ever dreamed and yearned for. You would never be alone or feel lonely again, and neither would he! 

Please you night and day, whenever and wherever! That's what he intended to do.

Oh, yes. 

He will be such a good boy for you.

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[viennakarma]

My dearest friend and enemy

Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]

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PART 2 (END)

You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.

You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.

“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.

“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.

The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.

He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.

“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.

“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”

“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.

“Are you sure?” You asked again.

“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.

“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”

“You know?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”

You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.

From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.

You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.

That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.

“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.

You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.

The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.

“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”

You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.

“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”

“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.

“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”

He laughed it off.

Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips. 

“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.

“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.

“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”

“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head. 

At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.

“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.

“Like to what?” He frowned.

“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.

Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.

“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”

“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”

He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.

“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.

You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.

“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.

“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”

A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.

“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.

“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.

“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.

Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.

You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.

“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.

“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”

“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”

That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.

Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed. 

You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.

He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.

“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”

He only laughed at your happy ramble.

You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.

“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.

“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you. 

Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.

“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.

“Hm?”

“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.

“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.

“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.

“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”

You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.

“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”

Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.

The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.

“Nano!” You hugged him.

“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.

“You came.”

“You called.”

Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.

You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.

Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.

“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.

“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.

“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”

You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.

When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.

During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.

Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.

“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.

And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.

So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.

That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.

He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.

“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.

“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.

“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.

Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.

That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.

You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.

“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.

“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.

“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”

It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.

“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.

“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.

“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.

“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.

When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.

“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.

“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.

“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.

“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.

After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.

When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.

Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.

When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.

He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.

Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.

You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.

“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.

“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.

“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”

The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.

“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”

“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”

His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.

“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.

“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.

After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.

“Nena…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.

“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.

“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”

“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”

“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

You walked past him, leaving at once.

That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.

“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.

He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.

“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.

“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”

Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.

He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.

“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”

His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.

“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.

You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party. 

Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.

You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.

“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”

You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.

“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered, 

“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”

“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.

You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.

Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.

The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.

All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.

Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.

“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”

You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.

“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.

“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.

“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.

There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.

When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.

“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.

“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”

“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.

You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you. 

“Fernando, please-”

“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.

“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.

You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.

Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.

“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.

“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”

You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.

“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.

“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.

“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.

Shame and jealousy burned inside you.

He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.

You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.

“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”

You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.

The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.

“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.

“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”

“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.

“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.

“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.

Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.

You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.

“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”

You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.

It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.

“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.

“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.

“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”

“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.

“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”

“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”

Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.

“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.

“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.

“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.

“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”

“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”

“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”

“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.

“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.

You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.

“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.

“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.

“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.

“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.

“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”

You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.

You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.

“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”

Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.

They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.

“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.

“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.

“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”

“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”

“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”

So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.

You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.

You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.

It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.

So you had to prove Fernando wrong.

NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!

[embracing-the-ineffable]

Beware clickbait accusations

Hi fandom, here's what happened yesterday: A reporter named Rachel Johnson, who is the sister to Boris Johnson and a big terfy supporter of JK Rowling, released a 4-part true crime podcast featuring two women accusing Neil Gaiman of SA. Yesterday. The day before the UK elections. This post explores the possible political links in more detail.

CW: this post is free of graphic details, but if you follow these links, there may be explicit descriptions of sex, kink, and bdsm, plus mentions of mental illness and suicidal thoughts.

I want to believe and support survivors, and I also want to base my thoughts and actions on facts. I thought the xitter livestream commentary from Not Becky for all 4 episodes was very insightful. There's also a first episode transcript without extra commentary. (Edit: released after I wrote this post: the full audio plus transcripts for all four episodes of the podcast are now available to download here, or you can read all four transcripts in your browser.) I have since concluded (pending more time to think and read and learn, or any new information, of course):

This seems like the worst kind of clickbait, an unjustified mess that will hurt everyone involved (except possibly a few politicians who might benefit somehow, we'll see). The evidence the "reporters" present directly contradicts their accusations. They're counting on people reading headlines and not digging any deeper.

They tried to make something sinister where there was apparently consent and a caring relationship. Have they exploited one or both of these women? S, in particular, is described as vulnerable and with a history of unspecified mental illness. They have all of the message history between S and Neil, and her messages make the sexy stuff between the two of them sound enthusiastically consensual. There are even messages (multiple!) where she specifically says everything was consensual. Here's one:

They're playing horror music in the background to try to make us feel horrified, even as S reassures us that things were consensual. It's emotional manipulation by the reporters.

The times S sounds upset during the interview are the times she talks about Neil leaving her behind or not paying attention to her. Not the times she talks about consent violations. Her stories during the interview are inconsistent, and they contradict her messages with Neil and with others. Maybe we'll get better information from a more reputable news source, or maybe not, I don't know. I also don't know why anyone who cares about her would have advised her to do this interview.

Then they tracked down lots of other women who know/have dated Neil and they all had glowing things to say, except one other lover from 20 years ago, K. She described some bad sex, and then pointed to a time in their 2-year relationship when she felt something wasn't consensual and he thought it was. And after their breakup, they continued to text and flirt, for decades.

This podcast "exposé" feels like explosive clickbait with political ramifications. The evidence here doesn't support a pattern of poor conduct so much as establish Neil as a fellow well-meaning human with imperfect judgement. That doesn't mean the accusations are all made up; intimate partner violence is complicated, and the responsibility for checking in and getting regular enthusiastic consent from partners is very real, especially when kink or bdsm are involved.

I don't know what the right balance is here between supporting survivors, thinking critically, assuming good intentions, and waiting for better information, but I feel confident that this podcast alone is not enough to condemn anyone aside from the irresponsible journalists who inflicted it on the rest of us.

PS/edit: I'm tagging my relevant posts (mostly reblogs) with #ineffable grief, and you can see all of them here.

[steddieas-shegoes]

does he always do this?

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'heard it in a love song'

rated m | 995 words | cw: mentions of sex | tags: everyone loves steve, but eddie loves steve like a love song, steddie, corroded coffin friendship

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Eddie tapped his pencil against the journal, checking the clock above the phone in the kitchen for the hundredth time in the last 30 minutes.

Steve was late.

Steve was never late.

He was only minutes away from trying to call his house to make sure he didn't forget he was coming over when he heard a car pull up out front.

"Finally," he said to himself, throwing the pencil down and pushing the chair away from the table.

He went to open the door and was shocked to find not just Steve, but his entire band as well.

"Uh…hi?" Eddie watched as they all grabbed backpacks from Steve's car. "What's happening right now? Is it an intervention? I don't even drink."

Steve rolled his eyes as he got closer and kissed the corner of Eddie's mouth.

"The guys are here to help with the song."

"What song? There's no song," Eddie panicked. It was supposed to be a secret, dammit. He'd been so careful.

"The song you've been writing for me that you're having trouble with. You've been distracted for days and I want my boyfriend back," Steve pushed past him and into the kitchen, opening the fridge to start grabbing random things Eddie didn't even know they had.

"Hey Eddie," Jeff and Frankie said in unison as they pushed past him and set their bags on the floor inside.

"Hey, man," Gareth said as he did the same.

"Who told him about the song?" Eddie hissed as Steve made himself busy pulling a pan out of the cabinet.

"No one. You left your journal wide open on your desk and he saw it when he was getting ready for work," Jeff rolled his eyes. "We told you to keep your stuff hidden."

"I thought you were just being assholes about Steve being my boyfriend!" Eddie threw his hands up in frustration. This was bullshit. He could get the song done on his own!

"Anyone allergic to anything?" Steve called out from the counter, where a variety of peppers, onions, and garlic were spread out to be cut.

"I'm allergic to vegetables," Gareth smirked.

"Right. I'm sure," Steve didn't even entertain his comment, continuing to cut up the food in front of him. "Dinner will be ready in 45 minutes."

"Does he always just come in here and start cooking?" Frankie asked from his spot on the couch. He sure made himself comfy fast.

"Only if he knows I haven't eaten much."

"How does he know that?" Jeff asked as he settled in Wayne's chair.

"His hands are shaking because his sugar's low and he has six empty cans of Mountain Dew on the table, meaning he hasn't gotten up from the table for hours. Focus on the song, pretend I'm not here."

Eddie smiled fondly at Steve, only turning back to everyone when Gareth clapped his hands in his face.

"Dude, you're so fucked."

Eddie groaned. "Yeah, well, the song has me fucked up worse."

"What have you got so far?" Frankie asked.

Eddie got up to grab the journal from the table and threw it to him. Frankie read the few lines and nodded, smirking.

"This isn't a love song."

"What do you mean? Of course it's a love song!"

"Dude, this is a sex song."

"It is not!"

Jeff grabbed the journal and read the lines, his eyes widening momentarily before handing it over to Gareth.

"Damn, this is a sex song."

"You writing dirty things about me, baby?" Steve asked from his spot at the counter.

Eddie covered his face with his hands and groaned. "I wasn't trying to."

"Alright, so do you wanna shift gears and try to focus more on love or do you wanna stick with this?" Jeff asked, getting down to business. He was good at keeping them on track.

"Stick with this."

They sat around figuring out lines that could work, and Steve stood at the stove listening, but keeping to himself.

He ignored the teasing Eddie received when he admitted to wanting to see Steve in only his vest, but smiled to himself when he remembered the first time he'd worn only the vest while Eddie fucked him against his bedroom wall.

He ignored how red Eddie got when they tried to rewrite the line about "seeing white on red", saying it didn't make sense. Maybe to them it didn't, but all Steve could picture was when Eddie's cum painted his ass, bright red from the spanking Eddie'd given him.

They luckily didn't talk much about it over dinner, too busy shoving the food into their mouths to say anything.

After dinner, Steve cleaned up while they got back to it, then went to take a shower and get ready for bed. They might stay up all night writing, but he sure wouldn't be awake for much longer.

Eddie snuck into the bathroom while he was rinsing his hair, sitting on the sink and asking about his day.

When Steve got out of the shower, he wrapped his towel around his waist and stood in between Eddie's legs, cupping his face in his hands.

"You love me?" Steve asked, the same way he did every night.

"More than anything in the world, Stevie," Eddie answered, the same way he did every night.

"How's the song?"

"It's…our sex life. Kinda out in the open. Is that okay?"

Steve smirked. "Yeah."

"It's not really a love song."

"Sure it is. You love me, you fuck me. It's all the same," Steve kissed his lips softly, smiling into it. "Can't wait to hear when it's done."

"I could sing it to you tonight," Eddie wrapped his arms around him.

"Hey!" Gareth banged on the door. "No fucking while we're here!"

They both laughed.

"Better get back to it," Steve kissed him again before opening the door and walking to the bedroom.

Eddie watched him go, biting his lip.

"I've got the chorus," he yelled to the guys.

[dyaz-stories]

put your arms around me and i'm home || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader

summary: In the dead of winter, you have to do a run to go get fuel for your generator. Things go wrong, but fortunately, Hyun-Su is here to save you.

word count: 3.7k

warnings & tags: canon-typical violence, gore, monsters, hyun-su and reader get injured, reader briefly thinks hyun-su is dead, monster!hyun-su makes a brief appearance, hyun-su needs a hug and he gets one!, angst, hurt/comfort, season 2 canon compliant.

previous · next

A/N: this can be read on its own, but there is another one-shot, if you're interested! for context, this takes place during season 2. reader and hyun-su know each other from high school and reader runs into hyun-su after the events of the first three episodes. reader also doesn't know that he is a monster/neohuman.

You’re not one to get caught off guard, not usually. You’ve always been cautious, measured, far-sighted. It had been an advantage back in high school, and you’re pretty sure it’s what kept you alive thus far.

Yet, in this new world that you never asked to be a part of, unforeseen complications were the norm. You could plan, and plan, and plan ahead, but here you were, freezing in your living room, because the biting cold of the lasting winter meant that you’d run out of fuel for your small generator, and everything else you used to generate electricity wasn’t functioning the way it should.

If you didn’t want to freeze to death, you had to act, and act quick.

You’d already held out a few more days than was reasonable, hoping that the weather would clear and your solar panels would be useful again, or — but you hadn’t dared to voice that thought — that Hyun-Su would come by, and you could ask for his help. He’d offered before, after all, even if he had always kept you at arm’s length whenever you’d returned the favor.

But things were dire now, and you couldn’t wait any longer, so you’re kneeling in your living-room, preparing yourself for a hazardous trip in the outside, shivering as you do. Things are dangerous enough on a good day, but the snow that’s been continuously falling only makes you dread it more. It swallows sounds, means you’ll leave tracks behind you, and you’ll consume twice as much energy just to move around.

The last thing you pack is a map, which you make sure to keep available, though you hope you won’t need it in between breaks.

You’re heading for a four-stories parking lot, where you hope you’ll find fuel in one of the cars, but that’s not the dangerous part. What’s risky is that monsters love these kinds of places, with all their nooks and crannies, all the dark places to hide, and fear already has your heart beating twice as fast as usual before you’ve even opened your door.

Still, you take a steadying breath, haul the backpack over on your shoulders, and exit the house without making a sound.

Everything is quiet outside. Snow is falling gently, and the sight would be heart-warming, if it wasn’t for all the overturned cars, the gaping hole torn into the building opposite from yours by one of those missiles a few months ago, and the worrying fresh footprints going towards the river. The snow also covers the decomposing bodies, and you can only hope that you don’t accidentally step on one as you start walking.

At least it fills your tracks behind you. By the time you’ve reached the other side of the street, which was one once an impossible task due to how bad traffic you used to be, nothing leads back to your door, and you leave with, at least, the reassurance that home will still be here waiting for you when you come back.

If you come back.

There’s comfort in knowing that you’d planned well, this time, to get to the parking lot. You get to your destination with only expected complications. You spot the monsters before they spot you. You have to reroute twice, but that had been accounted for, and you don’t even have to pull out your map. You reach the building right before noon, and after surveying it for a few minutes, you let yourself in before you can chicken out.

In the dark, you make your way to the first floor, where you will be able to have the greyish light of the day, instead of having to use precious batteries for your flashlight.

It’s not long before you’ve picked out the car, a familial minivan with an untouched baby seat in the back. You try not to think about the people it belonged to as you kneel by the side and prepare to siphon the tank. You make quick work of preparing it, with the tanks and hoses you’d brought for that purpose.

Maybe it’s your confidence that’s to blame for what happens next, or maybe it’s another one of these unforeseeable accidents. Either way, you catch movement from the corner of your eye and you jerk your head back as a reflex, but you’re not fast enough and unnaturally long claws dig into your cheek.

You manage not to scream despite the pain, scramble back and away from the van. There, standing on the roof, is a creature. Though it stands on two legs, there is nothing human about it anymore. The side of its face are sagging and drooping like it’s centuries old, covering where you assume its shoulders would be. It brings its claws to its lips, and your realize with horror that your blood is dripping from them.

Bleeding, in this world, might as well be a death sentence. You don’t bother wasting energy in stopping the tears from spilling from your eyes.

“Younnnnng,” the monster screeches. “Give— meeeeee…”

It at least snaps you out of the stupor, and you grab your bat, unwilling to go down without a fight.

But it’s not much of a fight, not when the scent and the noise are waking up all the other creatures hibernating around here.

You swing wildly as the thing, and manage to send it tumbling back. It’s only a short respite though, considering pain is only ever short lived for them, while blood is dripping down your chin and onto the concrete.

You throw your backpack on your shoulders with trembling hands and grab the first cannister that you’ve filled, abandoning the rest behind to start sprinting towards the exit.

You already know you won’t make it. You know you’ll have to run through the pitch dark ground floor, which is no doubt filled with more of those nightmares, and that the chances you’ll make it out on the other side are slim to none.

But you owe it to yourself fight until the very end.

As it stands, you don’t even make it to the downward slope that leads there. There’s the sound of something charging towards you, and then the— the head, it has to be, of a bull-like thing catches you in the ribs, and sends you flying into a car. Your breath is instantly knocked out of you, your vision goes blurry, your head starts reeling. You’re aware of the thing crashing into a concrete pillar. It at least stays there, struggling to pull itself out, but that’s barely any relief, because soon enough the first creature is calling out to you again, stretching out a skeletal arm towards you.

“Younnnnnng… Give meeeee…”

It kicks you in the ribs, and you roll onto your back, only to be met with the horrifying sight of its arm in the air, claws out and ready, preparing to cut your throat open.

You refuse to close your eyes.

And then, just as you think everything lost, someone steps in between you and the monster, blocking its arm with your very own baseball bat. You stare blankly at the large back, the unkept black hair, as the man forces it to step back and kicks it in the chest.

Then Hyun-Su turns around, and holds his hand out towards you.

He looks nothing like what you’re used to. He’s usually so lost, so hesitant, when he comes to you. Now he’s focused, purposeful, and in many ways, he reminds you of the boy you once knew, the captain of the football team who would without fail lead his team to victory.

“Let’s go,” he urges you, and when you weakly take his hand, he pulls you to your feet effortlessly.

You wheeze as the two of you run to hide behind a car. You press your free hand against your ribs, hoping to lessen the pain — it doesn’t work, of course.

“It’s going to find me,” you mumble to Hyun-Su as he keeps an eye on the thing. “It can— It can smell my blood.”

Hyun-Su’s head snaps towards you, and his expression darkens at the sight of the wound on your cheek. He lifts his hand halfway, as if to touch it, then lets it fall down again.

“You should—” Your voice breaks. “You should go. If it can find me… It’s not the only one.”

A strange expression that you can’t quite decipher passes on his face, before he shakes his head firmly.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

The relief you feel when he says those words is immediately overshadowed by embarrassment. You shouldn’t be happy. He needs to go, or he will die here with you, and what would the point be in that?

“What— What are you even doing here? How—”

You don’t know if he doesn’t answer on purpose, or if he hears a sound that takes his attention away from you.

“Can you run?” he asks you, glancing over the car.

Your body’s going to hurt like hell when the adrenaline wears out, but for now you give him a decided nod.

“Do you trust me?”

You should probably take your time to answer him, actually think about the question.

“Yes,” you answer instead, like it’s a reflex.

He exhales quietly, squeezes your hand in his.

“Then run.”

Then he’s pulling with him, running at full speed towards the open wall of the parking lot. Fear spikes through you. Even though you’re only on the first floor, it’s still too high to land comfortably. That fear is completely erased by the sight that greets you, briefly, of monsters stumbling and climbing all over each other to make their way up from the ground floor. There is a whole swarm of them teeming here already, and you can’t think of any other way to make it out alive — frankly, you have a hard time believing that this will work. But you cling to your faith in Hyun-Su like your life depends on it, because it does, and when he yells for you to jump, you do it without question.

While you’re flailing in the air, you feel him pulling you towards him. Strong arms wrap around you, and keep you caged and safe. You hit the ground brutally, rolling on the floor until you land on top of him.

“Fuck,” you mumble, painfully pushing you onto your elbows. “Hyun-Su, are— are you okay?”

The obvious answer to the question is ‘no’, and yet Hyun-Su doesn’t look worse for wear as he sits up, his eyes instead going over your body to make sure you weren’t too badly injured.

If you shiver when his hands run up and down your arms, it isn’t because of the cold.

“Let’s move,” he says, letting go of you all too quickly.

But, by the time you’re both on your feet, monsters attracted by the smell of your blood have started falling from the parking lot. The two of you sprint, but you’re no match for them and you know it. You regain the tiniest hope when you make it past a corner, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the snow will swallow your smell if you hide well enough — and then something wraps around your ankle.

In a second, you’re torn out of Hyun-Su’s grasp, and when you manage to roll onto your back to see who your assailant is, all you can do is let out an inhumane scream.

This particular monster has eight legs, like a spider, and its somewhat human torso  and head is completed by two long mandibles instead of a jaw. You manage to grab a knife from your pocket, but by the time you can cut its— web, you suppose, it’s charging towards you at full speed, and it’s close, too close for you to even get on your feet before—

When it attacks you, the first thing you see is what you first identify as a black wing, before you realize that it’s made out of a complex mix of flesh, bone and other materials that you can’t quite recognize, instead of feathers.

The wing pushes the creature back, and then Hyun-Su’s back is in front of you once more.

It’s his, you realize, brain awfully slow all of sudden. The wing. It’s attached to his shoulder, and all you can do is stare in confusion and horror. It flutters as he turns around to look at you.

You’re not fully in control when you scramble back, whole body shaking — because of the second near-death experience in ten minutes or because you’re terrified, you don’t know. What you do know is how hurt he looks, and how he turns his head the other way to face the monsters that are still coming after the two of you.

“You should run,” he says, low enough that you could miss it. He sounds hollow again. “Don’t turn around.”

You shake your head quietly, try to form some words. They all fail you. You don’t— you have no clue what’s happening. All that you know is that Hyun-Su is a monster and that he’s just used that to save your life.

The wave of monsters reach him just a few seconds later, before you’ve managed to decide anything. He pushes them back with practiced ease, one by one. You hate that you’re just sitting here, unable to move, as he fights for your life, yet your body just refuses to answer to you, even if you’re begging it to react.

Soon, the spider is the last one standing — or rather, the last one who hasn’t yet decided that you’d make a fairly meager lunch, considering how hard it is to get to you. It keeps attacking, and Hyun-Su keeps pushing it back, again, and again, until the creature manages to ensnare him in its web. Hyun-Su writhes, manages to pull his wing free, but it’s clear that he’s now at a disadvantage, and the mandibles click threateningly as the monster gets closer and closer to him.

Finally, your body agrees to react.

You run.

You don’t go very far though. You find the cannister you’d dropped and then you’re rushing back to throw the gasoline at the creature, half emptying it. The monster wasn’t paying attention to you, too busy trying to bite Hyun-Su’s head off, but its head snaps towards you when the liquid reaches it. It lets out a threatening hiss, which you ignore.

Instead, you find the lighter in your pocket.

Aim.

And throw.

The screams start right away, but it drops Hyun-Su, at least, as it tries to escape the fire.

For a second, you think you’ve made it — you’ve both made it, that is. Hyun-Su pulls himself to his feet. The wing flutters again, slowly starts to retreat back into his body to go back to a human arm.

He looks at you, expression unreadable.

And then one of the spider’s limb pierces through his chest. It’s not even calculated this time — just a movement it’s making as it tries to free itself from the flames that are consuming it.

You hear yourself scream. You don’t remember asking your body to move, this time, but you know that a second later you’re reaching Hyun-Su as he falls to his knees, and your arms are around him while you cradle him, pulling his head into your lap. Tears fall down your cheeks and onto his, as one of your hands tries, and fails, to apply pressure to the gaping wound, even if you know there is no point.

“No,” you beg. “No, no, no, no… Please, please, someone, please…”

You don’t know how many times you say it, how long you stay there. Snow starts to cover both his body and yours, and you realize you have a decision to make, if you don’t want to freeze to death. You just can’t bring yourself to do it.

Until Hyun-Su’s lifeless body arches in your arms with a gasp.

When his eyes open, they’re a clear, cold, uncanny blue.

You don’t dare to do anything then — not to let go of him, not to move away, not to break eye contact. It makes no sense, but you’re afraid that the slightest movement would have him gone again.

Slowly, his lips curve into a smirk, an expression you’ve never seen on him before. You’ve seen him smile, bright and sincere, and more recently, soft and subdued. But this amused, flirtatious smirk, that is completely new.

“You’re still here,” he comments, casually getting up, like nothing happen, like he can’t feel pain, like there isn’t a hole in his chest.

Even his voice is different. There’s a drawl to it, light and lazy, like he has all the time in the world.

“Hyun-Su?” you say, unsure of what’s happening. He was dead a minute ago. Then again, now that he’s breathing again, your brain is able to form the thought that he is a monster. An abnormal one, sure, and you don’t know enough to draw any conclusion, but it could be an explanation.

The smirk widens.

“Close enough,” he answers. “Are you scared?”

You’re not sure. You think you’re too emotionally exhausted to be scared.

“Should I be?” you ask. Maybe you shouldn’t trust this version of him to tell you the truth, and yet— All your senses are telling you that this is still Hyun-Su. And you don’t think he’d do anything to hurt you. Ever.

“It would break him if you got hurt,” not-Hyun-Su says, tilting his head. He lifts his index finger to tilt your head up. “I don’t want him broken.”

“Is he—” You interrupt yourself, unsure of what even is happening right now. But before you can start asking for answers, there is something you need to know. “Is Hyun-Su okay right now?”

He scoffs.

“He’s taking a break,” he replies. “He’s worked hard.” A beat while he seems to think about it. “Also, he thinks you hate him now.”

“I could never hate him,” you say, too easily, because it’s just the truth.

“Well, he is a monster,” not-Hyun-Su says with a shrug. He doesn’t seem to mean it as an insult, just stating a fact. You suppose he’s not wrong, and yet…

“The people I loved all turned into monsters,” you whisper quietly. Your mother, before you even made it home. Your best friend, who begged for death so she wouldn’t hurt others. Your father, who disappeared to protect you. You miss them all so much it sometimes feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest, and you’d give anything to have them back. So, if there is any way that you can still have Hyun-Su… “As long— as long as he’s not trying to kill me, does it really matter?”

The man watches you with interest, tilting his head to the side. It’s interesting. You haven’t been hurt by this world the way others have. Monsters caused death and destruction, but you watched half-monsters doing their very best to avoid hurting others, not unlike what Hyun-Su is doing right now.

The monster in him wonders what it would take, to destroy that ill-placed trust in others around you. The rest of him… is far too intrigued to give in. He grabs your chin between his thumb and his index finger, pulls your face closer to his.

“Doesn’t it?” he echoes your words. “What if I do hurt you?”

You swallow, call back the images of Hyun-Su easily taking out these monsters earlier. But you can’t forget that he’d been doing it to protect you.

“Y–You won’t,” you reply, even if your stutter betrays your lack of confidence.

It’s a leap of faith, but it seems to amuse him.

“For now,” he says, before his eyes roll into his head and Hyun-Su collapses in your arms.

You stumble back, barely manage to keep him up, before he seems to regain some control over his limbs and starts coughing. Even then, you don’t let go of him. You wrap both of your arms around him, head resting against his shoulder, and keep him there, against you.

Hyun-Su remains still for a while, breathing pained and ragged. The snow is still falling, but his body is warm.

“Are you okay?” he whispers with a hoarse voice.

“I am,” you answer. “Thanks to you.”

He lets out a pained sigh.

“Did he— Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head, barely moving away so you can look at him. He doesn’t look at you, keeps his eyes — black again, you note — fixedly in the other direction.

Like he can’t bear to know which emotion is on your face right now.

“I’m so happy you’re alive,�� you say quietly. “I thought— I thought I’d lost you forever.”

Silence.

“Don’t leave me,” you beg, voice so low and broken you don’t think he’d hear if he wasn’t inches from you.

Hyun-Su’s body starts shaking against yours. Finally, finally, he wraps an arm around your waist, burying his head in your neck, and wet tears roll down your collarbone. In the freezing cold weather, they feel burning hot.

“Don’t hate me,” he begs in response, crying in your arms, fingers digging to the fabric of your clothes in a desperate attempt to keep you there, against him — even if there is no need for that right now.

You wish you could tell him that he just saved your life, that he’s been a guiding light in your cold, dark life this past few months, that you love him more than words can say. But that would take too long, and the situation calls for something shorter, more direct, and just as meaningful.

“You’re the only good thing about this world,” you say instead, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

Under the snow, for long minutes, Hyun-Su holds you like he never wants to let go.

When the two of you eventually detach from each other, he keeps your hand in his the whole walk home.

i hope you liked this installment! i'm probably going to write something much softer next, still for this couple (but it's hyun-su so it's still going to be angsty). if you're enjoying this, please let me know your thoughts, reblog or send in an ask. hearing from readers is so motivating and makes me want to keep writing!

next part

[w2soneshots]

Back off mate -W2S

words: 0.6k+

warnings: angst, jealousy, possessive Harry, argument, alcohol consumption.

summary: while playing pub golf with the boys someone tries to flirt with you, that leads Harry to become quite jealous.

notes: hello my babies! Here’s the request🫶🏼. I know that Harry isn’t great with confrontation so there isn’t much of that in this. I hope you enjoy!!🤗💗

Liked by chrismd, faithloisak and 432,908 others

y/username: so much beer

Tagged: @wroetoshaw @chrismd

-comments-

wroetoshaw: rethinking my life decisions in that second pic

georgeclarkey: I so drunkk rn🍻

-> chrismd: we can tell mate

y/nfanpage21: uhm that outfit❤️‍🔥

user96813305: I love this post sm😭🫶🏼

Tonight me, Harry, Chris and George are playing pub golf. Some others were going to join us but they cancelled lat minute so it's just us four. I got ready and we left our apartment at seven o'clock. George and Chris were already in the taxi when we got in and it took us to the first pub.

After quite a few drinks and travelling to three different pubs we were all on pretty much the same points. I was quite drunk but Harry seemed to remain just slightly tipsy. As we entered our fourth bar I spotted a pool table. "Oh my god! We should play, yeah let's play. Come on!" I dragged Harry over to the table by his wrist and the other boys followed close behind.

Just as we began playing a group of a few guys walked up to us and watched as I completely missed the white ball. Harry chuckled. "Do you need help darlin'?" One of the men asked, coming towards me. Since I was so drunk I didn't even think about the fact he was most likely flirting so I agreed.

Harry quickly glanced at the boys and then back to the man who now stood beside me, his hands on mine, helping me to push the ball into the net. A large smile spread across my face as I cheered in excitement.

I glanced over to Harry and immediately my smile fell from my face. He looked at me with clenched teeth as his jaw ticked, eyes boring into mine.

The entire vibe changed. Harry didn't move. Chris and George walked up to the guy and told him firmly to "back off mate." I stepped towards Harry, my arm reaching out for him but he stepped back and made a b-line for the pub door. Suddenly I felt very sober as I looked back to the boys, they just sighed.

I followed after Harry and found him leaning against the brick wall. He didn't look at me. "I'm sorry." I told him quietly. He didn't move. It was painfully quiet, the only sounds being drunk people walking around and the odd car driving by. "I would never- you know I-" "I think we should talk tomorrow. I need sleep." He interrupted me, pushing himself off the wall.

We left in a taxi not long after and I text the boys informing them that we were going home. We didn't say a word to each other until we got inside our apartment. Harry took his shirt off then lay on the couch, grabbing the blanket that rested on the back of the sofa and placing it over himself.

"You're not coming to bed?" I asked. "No." He said plainly. I slowly took in a shaky breath then went to bed myself, deciding not to push him any further.

The next morning I woke with a banging headache. I shuffled into the kitchen but stopped in my tracks when I saw Harry sat on the couch scrolling through his phone. Suddenly last night's events flooded my mind.

I walked over to the couch and sat down. He glanced at me. "You know I'd never cheat on you. I love you more than anything. I was really drunk last night and wasn't thinking about the fact that guy was flirting. I'm sorry Harry." I sincerely apologised. He put his phone down and moved all of his attention to me.

"I know. It just really pissed me off. The way that- dick looked at you I-" his eyes flashed with anger then closed as he calmed himself down. I nodded. "I can't lose you." He whispered. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye. I pulled him into a tight hug and he held onto me as if I was going to disappear "You won't. I promise."

[winterzsurprise]

Crimson Lovers • KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

SUMMARY: “I'd spoil you rotten, put you in the nicest, most expensive clothing and I'd still have more to spend on you for an eternity.” Jin whispered into your lips like a promise. If it weren't for your lust addled mind, you'd believe him. “You like wealth, princess? I have plenty. My coven has a dragon, he'd spoil you rotten, he’d stop at nothing to give you everything you'd ever wanted.”

Or alternatively, your friend’s only solution to you being a broke college student with a family to feed is to attend a private feeding party where the most affluent vampires are in attendance to drink fresh blood in exchange for money and get yourself in trouble with the infamous Kim Coven. 

Tags: Vampire! Seokjin, Half-Faerie! Reader, Mythical Creatures AU!, SMUT, Cunnilingus, Magic slick (Seokjin passed out from it lmao), Blood sucking(obvs), not beta read.

Words: 5.1k

I just found this one collecting dust in the vault so I decided to post it here since it'll be a shame if I don't post a 5k words worth work. Its supposed to be the first chapter for a mythical creatures and reincarnation au bts x reader story but I immediately hit a wall.

I'll prolly pick it up in the future idk.

• MASTERLIST •

__________

Never in your life have you ever thought a single sheet of paper could weigh so heavily in the palm of your hands like it holds the heaviness of your future.

Depending on your answer, it does.

The card was a vibrant crimson with a nice golden design of modest swirls as margins for the text that are colored in silver, the material no doubt expensive. It was an invitation to a private feeding after all, how could it look shabby when only a selected few are given the opportunity to attend?

By selecting a few, you meant people from affluent backgrounds and some unfortunate people desperate for money.

It was obvious what category you’d fall into.

If you were to attend the party.

“Stop staring at it like it offended your ancestors, I'm just suggesting it.”

Soomin, your friend since high school, says.

“Where did you even get this? You don't know any vampires, do you?”

She shrugs, leaning back into her armchair. “Got a few favours. You were complaining about needing money and thought I could use some of them.”

Scratching your head, you read the card's contents with careful apprehension.

“Relax, it's not enchanted to track where it goes. It's just a normal card, you know I wouldn't force you into something if safety wasn't guaranteed.”

Before leaving the herd to pursue college far from the safety of family wards, your mother had enchanted your accessories with aura suppressors and glamours to prevent people from knowing your heritage.

You were told of horrors of the inhabitants outside the plane, both mortals and supernaturals turning over every leaf in the forest just for a whiff of a faerie.

Your blood is as precious as its golden colour, said to restore even the weakest mortal on its deathbed to pristine condition with a mere drop and turn a half vampire’s miniscule powers into a bottomless pit of a royal pureblood.

Faeries live in constant danger and you'd be damned if you weren’t taught to overthink everything.

“It’s anonymous, they’ll have you wear a mask, don't overthink it too much. My aunt used to tell me ‘your body is an emergency fund, every part of you is profitable. You just need to know the right place.’ or in my case, a man.”

She says, wiggling her fingers in front of your face where a gigantic pink diamond glimmered under the light above you, an engagement ring from the werewolf she bagged from dancing haphazardly on a stranger one friday night.

It's her pride, being able to capture the attention of one of the country's most attractive bachelors. It gave her a confidence that soared so high in the skies, she had nudged the space terminal. You couldn't even blame her for thinking so, knowing you'd share the same sentiments if it were you.

But still, daring to wander around without the wards your mother has spent years of creating to keep you safe, it makes your stomach churn. 

Placing the card and pushing it as far as you could, you lean back into the chair.

“I don't know… It's really risky.”

“I’m just suggesting here,” she sighs, sliding the paper back in front of you and patting it. “If all goes well, you wouldn't need to work overtime for a year at least.”

“You saying that only makes me overthink it even more.”

She rolls her eyes playfully.

You knew she was right and the prospect of not working for a year is tempting. But a part of you frowned at the thought of risking your safety for a couple of zeroes in your bank account. Pride is such a fickle thing, so easily threatened and dragged through the mud when desperation kicks in.

But what is Pride in the face of your mountainous pending bills?

Not to mention, your mother and little brother's living situation back in the province. Soobin needed new shoes for school, you've seen how well-worn it has been—if well-worn meant clumsily glued back soles onto the upper body for the nth time with shoelaces frizzled and pulled taut from being twisted into knots and years of washing.

Your barista and supermarket cashier job nor your mother's job as a saleslady in the wet market doesn't reward you enough to save for his shoe while trying to sustain both you and your family, you need more. Taking on another 9-5 job is far from the solution.

Grabbing the paper with a newfound heaviness in your body, you sighed. The address encrusted in silver stood out in the seas of crimson reds, rooting your eyes onto the text.

“You asked for my help and I offer this–this somewhat long term solution.”

“But what if someone tries to track my blood back to me?”

Your mother and brother are counting on you, her salary from selling in the market aren't enough for the both of them. If you were to disappear they would sink further than you all already are, Soobin would stop attending school in favour of working. The guilt from seeing your mother bend over her back to be able to put food on the table would kill him.

It's a burdening feeling you wouldn't wish upon him. He should only know to have fun, make friends, and experience life in high school like a normal teen would.

You can't afford to put yourself in danger.

“I’ll put my name on the list instead. I promise you that you'll be safe, you just need to find someone to feed on you and then you can go, easy money!” 

Seeing the hesitance in your eyes, she continued.

“Sometimes you just need to live a little. There's rewards in risking, you know?”

But then again, nor can you afford new shoes for Soobin with your minimum wage jobs.

With a defeated sigh, you looked up to meet your friend's eyes. 

“How should I dress?”

________

He should've known better than attending parties the prehistoric council members had invited him into, you'd think centuries of politics would render him immune to these tricky situations yet here he is, standing awkwardly in the middle of the meeting room while holding said invitation and a cocktail. The old geezer was already gone by the time he realised his mistake. 

The envelope was a deep hue of red, a foretelling sign of what the party might be about.

It wasn't a shock when he saw the neatly imprinted silver text on the thick crimson paper telling him of a private feeding gathering for both the fortunate and the unfortunate on Saturday.

While being a vampire himself, he never had to feed on strangers when he had his coven to fill him up for the next month or so. His age has allowed him longer intervals between feeding and at this point, he has grown nonchalant with that aspect of his life. 

Obviously, he should've ripped it to shreds and incinerated the damn thing.

But a voice whispered at the back of his, urging him to join the small gathering. A nagging feeling tugging at him and telling him he'd miss something important if he were to dismiss the invitation. Yet when asked why he went, he said it's to oversee the event undercover.

He could still feel the burning curious gaze of his brothers on his skin.

Which brings him to his current predicament, fighting off the urge to yawn from the absolute boredom caused by newbloods breaking their backs to impress potential business partners and blood donors.

He silently thanked whoever thought it was a good idea to have guests wear masks. There would've been heaps upon heaps of scandals if he were to be spotted in a feeding party, not to mention, the newbloods trying to peacock their way to being sponsored by the Kim Coven and from the rising irritation burning his back, he might shave off a huge number off the vampire population.

He couldn't remember the times he had done his route around the hall, trying to avoid people vying for a morsel of attention and trying his best to not stay still in one place for people to recognize him but he did know that if he were to go around once more, he's leaving once and for all.

Downing his last martini, he stood up. 

Only for a dizzying scent to knock him back into his seat. It grabbed onto his throat with a tight grip, stuffing his head and demanding his attention. It smelled like the sweetest of sin, honeyed and dripping thick on his tongue. 

A faerie’s blood, although from a half, is still as tantalising as a pure blooded one.

He hears the murmurs, could feel multiple spawns’ auras spilling out of their body, their greed relentless and non-discriminating as it lashed out over each other, fighting to be noticed by the woman in the black bodycon dress. Why are they looking at her? How dare they lay their eyes on what's mine—

He immediately shook the thought away, making a note to review it later.

You strode into the middle of the ballroom with a sway to your hips, lips painted in the hue of blood stretching into a coy smile as vampires of all ages take a step towards your direction. The dress didn't leave much to the imagination with its thin fabric clinging onto your form tightly. From the spaghetti straps hanging flimsily on your shoulders to the low dip of its collar between the mounds of your chest and the high slits on one side to reveal the plumpness of your thighs, you were mouth watering in every way possible.

With pouty lips tinted in crimson red and hair loosely curled on the side of your face. You were a sight to behold.

Seeing you stride in with all that skin displayed for everyone to see, a ravenous monster at the back of his mind resurfaces. Greed and possessiveness of the others seeped into his skin, awakening something he had long buried.

A potential mate, his mind had whispered 

Fuck, you're driving him insane.

Seokjin didn't notice his feet moving, following the alluring scent beckoning him close as if hypnotised but he did see the flirtatious narrowing of your eyes as he approached. If his power is spilling over the floor and deterring everyone from daring to get in between you both, he ignored it. 

In fact, he revelled in their soured faces and shivering bodies.

He wasn't one for claiming territories nor was he the type to flaunt his power but for tonight, he'll make an exception.

No one is to dare interrupt him.

“What's a pretty faerie like you doing outside of their realm?”

He tried so hard not to stare at the delectable view of the mounds of your breast or the unblemished skin of your neck and chest but it's difficult with the view granted by his height. Your heartbeat pulsed nervously despite the flirtatious mask you so perfectly strut with. 

He could practically taste your scent being this close and his throat dries up.

Fuck, you're gonna make him religious.

“The same as the other women in pretty dresses in this room, darling. Money.”

“Aren't you scared people might hurt you?” It was a genuine question, if he wasn't here to step over the pining prospects, he didn't want to imagine how they would've killed each other for a glance.

You would've been ravaged, you were bold for strutting into a room full of ravenous vampires. It was impressive as much as it made his blood curl. He pushed the thought away, he wouldn't want to scare you off by decorating the hall in gore.

Seokjin could feel your fear, could hear it from the racing beats of your heart under flesh and bones. You were nervous, no doubt ready to bolt the moment you were approached by the predators surrounding you in all directions yet you faced him head on with a false confidence he started to think is real.

If fear were to ever linger in the corner of your eyes, he had a feeling it wouldn't end well for every supernatural in this room. 

No one should ever dare scare you.

“I'm desperate. So, if you aren't trying to take me for the night, I have other guys pining for me so excuse—”

“I didn't say I didn't want you, sweetheart. I'm just trying to get to know you better.”

You stopped, looking up at him through your lashes as you stepped closer.

Lithe fingers boldly reached onto his tie pressed neatly behind his blazer—nails painted in a sinful red hue, he notes— tugging and twirling it between fingers as you stepped closer and closer, further drowning him in your delectable fragrance. Your nervous heart beats echoed in his ears and it sounded like the piper's capturing tune, your scent surrounds him like a haze of amortentia, demanding his attention on your eyes, your lips, your skin and to the dip in your waist. All Seokjin could think about was you.

Your soft flesh flashing up at him, teasing him and urging him to have a taste, to feel the rush of your blood coating his tongue and down his throat, to run his hands over your skin and have his marks littering its unblemished surface.

Suddenly his clothes felt suffocating in the heat of his desire.

Was he seriously this floored for someone whose face he hasn't seen?

“All you need to know is that I need a name to moan, handsome.”

He could feel the thread of his patience running thin, lust leaking in and clouding his judgement. He smirked. “Name’s Jin. What should I call you then, sweet thing?”

Your arms reached around his neck, body pressing flush into his chest as you looked up at him through lidded eyes. The size difference not going unnoticed, if anything, it made him want to drive a stake through his heart.

“Cherry.”

He doesn't know who started it first, nor does he remember how you both ended up in a private room after the feeding contract was signed, doors locked behind you both as he pressed you onto its wooden material, the masks long forgotten on the floor. Seokjin felt your lust in how your scent sweetened further like heaven's nectar, grabbing onto his throat and drowning him.

It almost felt sacrilegious that he gets to know you so intimately like this. Almost unfair how your desires grappled with his patience like a cat with a ball of yarn, temptation lighting his skin alight.

Pulling away, his lips immediately zeroed in on your neck. His fangs ached to be buried onto your precious skin but he knows better than to harvest his rewards early. He sucked bruises and marked your throat yet the greediness in his chest didn't relent, if anything, it rampaged further at the sight of you littered with his marks.

They looked so pretty on you.

“You're driving me insane.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Taking your lips once again with his, you engaged in a wild dance of teeth dragging over his lips and tongue clashing with yours before picking you up and taking you both to the bed at the far corner of the room.

The straps of your dress falling from your shoulders shouldn't have the effect it does to him yet here he is, throat tight and mouth watering as he hovers over your pliant body, full chest spilling on the sides of your body, raising with your laboured breath with cheeks flushed with desire. His hands pushed the offending fabric of your dress to bunch over your inner thighs, eyes greedily drinking in every inch of skin being revealed to him before noticing how the thick flesh managed to look so small under his palms.

His mouth dries.

He can't wait to see how Namjoon feels about the size difference between you. The man would lose every morsel of control.

“Stop staring!”

“Why should I? You look so pretty like this.”

There's something so sinfully divine in how the fabric only seems to cover the necessary parts of your body, trying its best—and failing—to hide you from his gaze, the devil about to corrupt your purity with a bite.

You whined, hand reaching for him as you flush darker at his comment.

You'd turn Yoongi into a devout worshipper who'd dedicate a thousand songs because of this sight alone.

He ran his hands across your thighs, thumb inching closer to your heat under the fabric and every time it neared your breath hitches. Your heartbeat thuds a little faster, a new melody he's grown to love. 

Yoongi would've somehow composed a song with it.

“If you stare any longer, I'm going to start charging you.”

He didn't mean to laugh as hard as he did at that.

“Not much of a threat for me, sweetheart. I'm fucking rich.”

Your scent flares as you let out a soft moan and he captures your lips once more before pulling away with a smirk. 

“I'd spoil you rotten, put you in the nicest, most expensive clothing and I'd still have more to spend on you for an eternity.” 

You whined and it sounded like the sweetest melody he'd hear once he enters whatever heaven there is for the supernatural. 

Seokjin didn't have a kink for spending money on someone nor did he imagine he'd have one, but as he drawled on, he couldn't help but imagine you in the most lavish fabric to pose for him and his coven members, to see your form covered in the softest of silk and the rarest of gems only their money could purchase, his throat tightened.

Taehyung’s designed clothes would fit you perfectly.

“You like wealth, princess? I have plenty. My coven has a dragon, he'd spoil you rotten, he’d stop at nothing to give you everything you'd ever wanted.”

You didn't react to his revelation and he takes it as a win, a silent acceptance of his coven.

“Please just touch me.”

“Where do you want me, princess?”

You take his hand, lithe and small against him, and bring it close to where you wanted him most between legs, nudging his fingers between folds and shocks shoots through his body. He groans, the lacy fabric already drenched with your arousal, doused with your addicting scent.

“I want your fingers inside me, Jinnie. Please?”

If you asked him for the universe with that voice, he would learn how to shrink it and hand it over to you the next day tied with a bowstring.

Are you aware of the power you hold over him?

Instead of moving, he let you move his wrist, watched you with rapt attention as his fingers dipped down your folds, hovering on your clenching hole before rising to nudge your clit, teasing your already sensitive self and moaning from the slightest of touch. 

If it wasn't for the unfamiliar signature of a faerie in your scent, he would've thought you were a succubus.

“Look at you grinding on my knuckles so prettily, already so needy for me.”

He pressed light figures of eight on your button and drank in the sight of your desperation with rapt attention. Your hips twisted, eager for more. Tugging the fabric aside with the other hand, he toyed with your clit, using different pressures and motions to figure out what brings you the most pleasure before dipping a finger into you.

Your velvety walls fluttered around him, pulsing with need and tightening oh so deliciously on his finger. His cock stirs in his pants as he adds another digit, he can't wait to bury himself into your warmth.

Seeing you thrash around in pleasure as his fingers drove and curled inside you, got his body crawling with the intense feeling of greed. He wanted to see more of you, to have you on the brink of breaking. Suddenly, the dress flimsily covering you grew offensive. He eyed the material restricting his movements before pulling away from your cunt and reaching up to tug your panties off of you, discreetly tossing it into his spatial storage.

The dress is already halfway off your skin, he could easily tear them apart to replace them with a better, more expensive fabric but decided against it.

He sheds the clothing inch by inch, placing soft kisses and gentle nibbles to newly uncovered skin, leaving you breathless beneath him. Your scent flourished with your magic. It was electrifying. Intoxicating how your power seems to react so well with his.

Like you were meant to be.

Sitting back, he admired the divine artwork before him, embedding the sight into the walls of his brain. Your arms moved to cross over your breasts from his gaze making him reach down to entangle your fingers with his and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Don't hide from me. You look so pretty like this.”

With you finally revealed bare beneath him, he wasted no more time, leaning down to your cunt where your scent was stronger and licked.

Your flavour explodes on his tongue and he groans. Whether it was just your scent he’s tasting or your arousal he could care less, mouth latching onto your folds and tongue lolling on your erect bead as he sucked. His head buzzed, intoxicated by the fluctuating aroma surrounding him. He could die happy between your shuddering thighs threatening to close around his face, he didn’t mind it though, he can go on without breathing if only he could taste your sweet nectar.

Tasting you felt blasphemous, like he broke every heavenly rule there is by having you drip on his tongue. Sinful and outright disrespectful, and he loved it.

Heat ravaged his entire being alight, desire running rampant and restless under his skin. His fingers roamed your uncharted skin possessively, digging his fingers onto flesh and dragging them down, cupping and squeezing whatever he could reach while his mouth busied with your clit. Your hands grabbed at his head, fingers threading and entangling themselves onto his hair, confused whether to push him away or to tug him closer as you edged closer to the precipice of your high.

“I'm so close…! Jinnie please!”

With your back arched, hair laid around your head like a halo and chest glistening with sweat stuttering as you come to a close, skin illuminated by the soft lights of the room, Seokjin swore he has never seen a more beautiful sight than this.

His fangs ached once more.

“Fuck..! I’m gonna—”

He pulls away, teeth sinking into the plush of your thigh and your body seizes with pleasure, the ecstasy caused by his bite pushing you over.

Your blood is light and rich on his tongue, syrupy and honeyed, like the sweetest nectar found only in the garden of eden, the flavour heightened by your climax. Seokjin could taste the sugariness of your orgasm as if it was his own and he groaned. It was dizzying, the taste clogging his senses and stuffing cottons inside his mind as he took and took. He has never realised how hungry he was until he’s bitten into your skin.

His head swims, intoxicated by the raw magic in your blood entering his system, intertwining and entangling themselves into his own before boldly integrating with the flow of his power as if they've always been there. Energy buzzed under his fingers now erratically plunging and curling inside your cunt, further sweetening your blood as you edged between pleasure and pain from overstimulation.

Then in the midst of all the pleasure and nirvana, something clicks into place and he jerks awake from the haze.

Forcing himself to pull away, he almost black out as if he’s been taken off of life support—he feels like he did. Head blank and lightheaded, blood drunk. Even in his bleary state, he could feel it. An additional trace of your magic latching onto his own, a bond unconsciously made.

The uncomfortable stickiness in his boxers didn't go unnoticed and he buried his face into your thigh, blushing for no one in particular.

He cursed under his breath before pushing himself up and wishing you both into the comfortable clothing he had stocked up in his pocket dimension before taking his phone out of it, immediately greeted by the onslaught of text on his lock screen, all two hundred of them from his brothers who had no doubt felt the addition and his intense pleasure from feeding on you.

Normally, he'd be embarrassed by the thought of them knowing what he's been up to but there were more pressing matters to attend to. 

For example, the bond formed without your consent and his.

There's panic and confusion swirling madly like a hurricane through the six other bonds. He forced calmness down the lines tethered to his magic before turning back to the issue at hand.

He might have to wake you up and inform you of what happened.

But when he looked up and found your eyes closed, most likely blacking out from the intensity of the unprecedented bonding and the overstimulation from a vampire's bite, he figured that he'd deal with it tomorrow. You looked peaceful and he found himself mirroring the same sentiment, exhaustion weighing his bones. He dragged himself up next to you, arms wrapping around your torso as if he has always been doing so.

There's still insistent tugs down the lines of his bond, demanding answers and the constant buzzing from his phone but that's for tomorrow's Seokjin’s problem to solve, for now, he closes his eyes.

For the first time that year, Seokjin sleeps and wakes from the most pleasant rest he's had in centuries only to end it abruptly when he wakes up with the other side of the bed empty and he freaks.

______

“What the fuck do you mean you just left him?!”

“What the fuck was I supposed to do then?! If he's as high profile as you think, I don't think he'd appreciate waking up next to a one night stand!”

“Not all of them you—ARGH!”

Soomin groaned exasperatedly and loudly, folding over herself as she facepalms on the other armchair in your dorm's living room. Deeming it not dramatic enough, she grabs the pink throw pillow behind her and screams onto it.

Truth be told, leaving Jin earlier that morning placed a heavy weight on your heart. It felt so wrong to walk away from him, as if there's a string tying you to him and now it's pulled taut—which is a crazy statement to think about, there was no bonding ritual so how could you feel so dejected from closing the door behind you?

You have a couple of spare zeroes in your bank account now with bills paid and an expensive pair of black shoes already in transit for Soobin. Why would you be sad from leaving a one night stand?

You couldn't even believe you managed to bag someone that high in the social hierarchy. That party was a nightmare, walking in knowing all eyes would turn to you, all predatorial and hungry, it almost made you want to run back to your mother's arms. But you're an actress, theatre experience be damned if you weren't going to put on the greatest act of your life.

Fake till you make it, you always think and it led to you having the most earth shattering, blackout worthy orgasm as well as owning heaps of money.

Soomin has a different sentiment though, now standing up to crossover to where you sat across her before promptly hitting your body with the pillow.

“You're. So. Fucking. Stupid!” She screams like you had pissed and disrespected her ancestors’ grave, striking after each word. “That man might be Kim Seokjin from the most elusive clan in the world! Number one most sought bachelor and the country's most powerful sorcerer and you just walked away from him!”

“How could you be so sure it's him? All we got is a nickname.”

“His name is literally Jin which is short for Seokjin and he's a vampire wizard! You said he has a coven with a dragon? Well, guess what?! That dragon is Kim fucking Namjoon, another member of the Kim coven! That man is one of the richest in the fucking world and you just ditched his coven’s eldest!”

She swings for the last time and you weren't so fortunate the last few times—already letting down your guard when she began ranting—and it hits you square in the face. You groaned in pain, the zipper on the side of the pillow scratching your skin. 

Soomin’s anger immediately dwindled as she realised her error and gasped, falling to her knees and hands already reaching to cup your face to check for visible marks, pillow left abandoned on the carpet.

“Can't be damaging the face that bagged the Kim coven.”

“No damage here.”

“Just my faith in your decision making skills. I mean,” she stands, now more subdued and more disappointed than angry, still you eyed the pillow warily. “You've been wearing yourself down to death for years not only for you but also your family. If you were taken into the Kim Clan, you wouldn't have to worry about money anymore.”

Despite being one of your closest and longest friends, there's always been a huge difference with how you both perceive money. 

You're desperate for it, clawing and digging your hands bloody through the desolate desert for a chance of finding one small nugget to sustain your family while Soomin was familiar with it—she grew comfortably living in her parents’ spoils of years of hard work but never enough to buy the highest of quality items until her fiance came and suddenly, she had more than enough to spend for her luxury and you.

You strived and toiled for a smidge of stability whereas she revelled in anything life throws at her without worry because she has her parents to catch her if everything ever goes wrong.

She thinks of luxury as designer brands and ridiculously highly priced products that don't guarantee the greatest quality but you think of luxury as never having to worry about spending a cent over the designated budget for food shopping.

Even then, you loved her to the bone. Appreciated her like a sister from another mother.

“I can't afford to be distracted right now. I have a course to finish and a family to keep alive, I can't be hanging onto blind hope.”

Soomin's eyes softened, understanding and sighed. Turning around, she licked up the stray pillow before settling back into her chair and crossing her arms.

“I'm just… I just wanted you to be happier. It's a life mission of mine to make sure I won't die before seeing you living without stressing over details.” 

“I know.”

“I love you, leaflet.”

You laugh and she smiles. “I love you too, queen.”

[sunni-stuff]

No longer a fan.

—★! Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Jaw hurting blowjob, creampie, not proofread + made late at night.

★- This is the end!

The sight of his cock in front of you made your eyes grow wide, your tongue peaking out between your lips as Simon runs a hand through your hair. “Think I like that look on your face doll,” he breathes, fisting his length in his opposite hand. You can’t bring yourself to look away as he gives it a few strokes, pre-cum beading at the tip. You’re lost for words, hands reaching up to rest on his muscular thighs. You see his cock twitch in reaction, leaning forward to take him into your mouth before his fingers stop you in your tracks.

His laugh is cruel in your ears. “Eager little thing aren’t you?” He waves his cock in front of your face, barely brushing it against your lips as he holds you steady. He’s teasing you, enjoying the way your mouth opens for him, practically begging for him to fuck it. Even when you squirm in place and your thighs press together he refuses to indulge in the temptation that is your sinful mouth, wanting to see just how desperate you can get for him before he takes what he wants from you.

“Hungry for it, ain’t you? So innocent-looking but the whole time you’re just a cock-hungry whore.” You whine again, pressing your nails into the meat of his thighs. The sting of it makes his eyes roll. “Come on, use your words,” he gasps, almost feeding you his thick cock—so close, and yet so far. “Use your words darling, tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

He's a real bastard, the way he makes you beg for him. But you can't resist, even as your mouth hesitates to open. Your shame is long gone, especially since he already had his fingers inside you. "Please, Simon," you plead, your cheek pressing against his thigh as you look up at him with those coy eyes of yours. You want his cock now, there's no denying it.

Simon hums in approval as his hand gently guides your head. His cock stands tall in front of you, emitting a powerful musky scent that makes your senses reel. The aroma awakens a deep desire within you for more, more of him and what he can offer. You eagerly take his cock into your mouth, your lips latching onto the head and your tongue eagerly exploring every inch. He tastes so good, a delicious mixture of saltiness and sweat that ignites your taste buds and fills your throat as you try to take more of him, ignoring the slight burn at the back of your throat.

“Yes, that’s it, you’re a natural,” he grunts, being careful enough not to push your head too far. “Just needed someone to stuff that pretty mouth, is that it?” You’re already a sloppy mess, spit running down your chin, eyes watering. Simon's intense gaze pierces through you, filled with twisted desire as he watches you go down on him. You seem so small trapped between his legs, sucking him off with such vigor that he worries your jaw might lock up. He tightens his grip on your hair, pulling you away for a moment to help catch your breath but all he hears is a whimper from your lips. "Don't worry, doll. I'm not going anywhere."

You gaze up at him with a dazed expression, your eyes filled with desire as his thumb gently traces your bottom lip, catching the trail of saliva that dripped down your chin. Just his touch alone ignites your entire body like a Christmas tree. This man is dangerous; he may just be the death of you. It's a fact now, one you can't deny. "Why did you stop me?" Your voice comes out slightly hoarse from your activities below.

“You're too eager, love. Don't worry, I plan on being here all night.” He grins widely, enjoying your stunned reaction. Before you can defend yourself, he pushes himself back into your mouth, silencing any protests. You comply, closing your eyes and following his lead, savoring every moment with the man above you. Your head moves slowly, accommodating for his size as it stretches your throat beyond its limits. The sounds of his moans only urge you on further; you want to hear more. More of his gasps and groans that leave his chapped lips. Lost in the moment, you suddenly realize that his entire length is now down your throat. Your face buried in his pubic hair, and the manly smell of him has you dripping onto the floor beneath you. Simon was completely captivated. Although he had been with many people before, men and women, none of them could compare to the woman currently on her knees in front of him. His moans escaped him in a primal, guttural cry that only grew louder with each suckle of your lips. Your mouth felt like heaven to him, causing his eyes to roll back in pleasure. He couldn't help but grip your head tightly as he began to thrust into your mouth, the sound of your gags only fueling his desire further. "Yes… Come on, sweetheart. I'm almost there," he groaned out, feeling his legs tremble.

The force of his thrusts and the taste of his precum are overwhelming. Your mind goes numb as he takes full control, completely dominating your tiny mouth. Your jaw aches and tears well up in the corners of your eyes as his cock hits the back of your throat again. Suddenly, without warning, his release is imminent. "Shit… fucking perfect," Simon's voice is deep with desire but not as thick as the rush of liquid that fills your mouth. His cum has a sweet taste with a hint of salt, almost overpowering at first, but you manage to swallow it all down.

With a smirk, Simon slowly removes his cock from your swollen lips, taking in the sight of your flushed and aroused face. He reaches down and helps you to stand up, his eyes fixed on you. Your mind is still reeling from what just happened as you look at him. "I should go clean up," you murmur, starting to pull away. But he pulls you back in, his lips crashing onto yours. Simon doesn't care if you taste him on your lips or if you find it gross. Teeth clash and tongues collide as the heat builds. By the end, you're breathless and unable to speak. He asks, "Where's your bedroom?"

In a blur, you find yourself back in your bedroom, lying on your back with Simon hovering over you. He carefully inserts two fingers inside you, marveling at how easily you accommodate him. It won't be long before he replaces his fingers with something much larger. It has only been a few minutes since he entered your room, and he wastes no time getting to business. Your soft whimpers turn into loud moans that mix with his low murmurs as he maintains his rhythm, keenly observing your responses and adjusting accordingly. His heart pounds in his chest, and his own arousal throbs against his thigh. "Nice room you have here," he teases, taking a moment to look around at the colorful décor which is clearly your personal touch.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you let out a whiny gasp. "You can't be serious right now," you say, disbelief evident in your tone. But he just smirks at you, clearly not taking your words seriously.

Simon lets out a low chuckle as he leans in and captures your lips in another kiss, effectively silencing you. "Hmm, deadly," he murmurs against your mouth.

Control. Control was the only thing that held him back as he expertly pushed you closer and closer to that second orgasm, that edge, loving the uncontrollable whimpers that slipped out of you lips.

As he caresses a tender area inside of you, your lips part involuntarily and his name escapes in a pure moan. He continues with steady, rhythmic motions, and the squelching sound of his fingers only adds to the erotic atmosphere. The wet slurping sounds fill your ears and drown out any other noise.

Before you could even process what was happening, a sudden tightness consumed your stomach and sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. Your core tenses around his fingers as another orgasm crashes over you, leaving your vision hazy and your skin tingling. You took a moment to catch your breath, throwing an arm over your face as the cool sheets of your blanket helped to soothe your heated body.

Simon pulled his sticky fingers out and surveyed the mess he had made. He couldn't help but feel proud of himself as he tentatively licked them clean, savoring the delectable sweetness of you. Slowly undressing himself, he kept his eyes locked on you the entire time, taking in the rise and fall of your chest and the glistening sweat on your skin. His hands shook slightly as he removed his shirt over his head.

The sound of rustling fabric catches your attention, and you look up to see Simon standing there completely naked. He was a work of art, his body strong and defined with the marks of hard work and struggles. Every inch of him was pure muscle, from his chiseled chest down to his toned abdomen. Scars decorated his chest, each one telling a story you couldn't even begin to imagine. His masculinity was on full display, and it was enough to make any woman feel weak in the knees. You were no exception.

With wide eyes and an open mouth, you could only manage a hoarse whisper - "Sweet Jesus." The sound of your voice drew a hearty laugh from him, his deep chuckle filling the air around you.

"I can't guarantee it won't hurt, love," he said with a sly smile, pleased with the sight of his erect manhood looming over you. The power and dominance emanating from him was palpable, and your heart raced with a mix of fear and excitement. His words filled you with a sense of anticipation, unsure of what was to come. But the raw desire in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

A sharp, searing pain surged through your body, causing your back to arch. Your mouth dropped open, a mixture of pleasure and agony escaping in a silent cry. Your eyes flew open, tears welling up at the corners. The sensation of his erection entering you was almost too much to handle. Another intense orgasm washed over you, tightening your muscles around him and drawing out everything he had to offer. You were wetter than ever, coating his shaft with your juices as you came.

Simon let out a low growl as your third orgasm rocked through you, your walls tightening around him. The sight of his member disappearing into your core, the sensation of your body quivering beneath him, the sound of your moans—all of it drove him wild. "Another one?" he asked, amazed by how sensitive you were compared to others.

Simon groaned deeply as he felt your walls constrict, his throbbing member fully engulfed in the wet heat of your pussy. The intensity of it all was almost unbearable, causing him to clench his jaw in an effort to hold back his release. He watched you with wide eyes, a mixture of pain and ecstasy etched on your face as he stretched you to your limits. It was a sight that would be forever ingrained in his memory - your body trembling beneath him as he filled you completely, filling every inch of you with his hard, pulsing cock.

You became too accustomed to his manhood. Far too accustomed. Probably, because he had already stretched you out so much that your body instinctively knew to relax and welcome him. Your soft cries evolve into moans as your head falls back onto the stack of pillows on your bed. Simon is a master at pleasuring your body, knowing precisely when to thrust and when to pull back, and always praising you whenever he hits that sweet spot that makes you cling to his arm for support. He knows every curve and crevice of your form better than you do, and it's both exhilarating and frightening.

He pulls out, his cock glistening with your juices, before slamming back in. The squelching sounds of your wet pussy taking his cock, the sight of you writhing beneath him, the feel of your tight warmth—it was all too much to bear. He wanted to fuck you until you couldn't walk, until you were a whimpering, shaking mess under him until you were begging for him. Simon loved seeing the way your eyes looked up at him, all pliant and already fucked out. You were better than any toy, any woman or man, he’s ever recorded with. Maybe, just maybe, if that pretty little brain of yours was working after this he’d ask to see you again.

Simon could feel another orgasm building within you, your pussy clenching around his cock as he slammed into you. He was on the brink of his own release, his balls tightening as he neared his climax. You're such a good girl, taking me so eagerly. Can you handle a little more?" He whispered, his voice heavy with lust.

As his words reach your ears, your cloudy eyes clear up. The feeling of his cock thrusting deep inside leaves you disoriented but able to hear him clearly. His praise makes you involuntarily grasp around him. You can sense the effort it takes for him to hold back, though he doesn't say anything about it. It takes a moment for you to realize why - there's no condom.

Breathless gasps escape your lips as euphoria pulses through your body. You looked up at him, meeting his confused gaze before speaking again. "I-I'm on the pill," you managed to say, the words mingling with your moans. His brows furrowed in confusion, but you reassured him with a seductive glint in your eye. "It's okay…to cum inside."

With one last powerful thrust, he finds his confirmation and releases himself deep inside of you. As his cock throbs, he continues to fill you with his hot cum. Your body tightens and releases around him, drawing out your own orgasm as you collapse against him. Gazing up at him through hazy eyes, you notice for the first time that he seems completely spent. Simon slows down, trying to catch his breath and regain his composure. Yet, he remains buried deep inside you, the warmth and tightness of your pussy reminding him of what just took place. He then picks up pace again, renewed energy coursing through his body as he continues.

"Simon?" Your body resists, but he persists. There's that tingling sensation again. Without speaking, he leans in and softly kisses your lips, silencing you. He must have noticed how starved you were for touch, as each time he kisses you, you go quiet and still. "Just a little longer, love." he pleads for once. This isn't an order, but a genuine request for more. And how could you deny him, when he clearly needs it?

An entire hour had passed, and the two of you were still going at it with no signs of stopping. Simon instructed you to switch positions, and now you lay on your side, one leg draped over his shoulder as he continued to thrust into you unrelentingly. Every muscle in your body pulsed as he penetrated deeper each time, reaching a place that no other man had ever reached before.

The sound of the old bed frame creaking filled the air as your bodies rhythmically moved up and down. His movements were powerful, and every time he pushed inside you, your leg would automatically lift up to deepen the impact. Your arousal was evident as your slick walls eagerly welcomed him, trembling uncontrollably when his tip hit that delicate spot inside. You couldn't contain your moans any longer; Simon made you feel too good and he knew it. He gave you everything you needed and more, completely abandoning caution in the heat of the moment.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Your moaning abruptly stops when a loud noise startles you, and the knocking on the wall next to you snaps you out of your lustful haze. Your neighbor has finally had enough of hearing you say the same guy's name over and over again.

"Shut up! Some of us have things to do!"

You feel a rush of embarrassment and shock as you feel your face flush, expecting Simon to stop. But he doesn't; in fact, He somehow pushes himself even harder than before

Simon couldn't care less about your neighbor; you were all he needed. You had given him an hour of pure satisfaction, not just underneath him but on top of him as well. Your neighbor could go to hell because Simon was already in heaven with you. You bit down on your pillow, trying to contain any moans that threatened to escape your lips. It was a struggle to stay quiet when Simon moved his hips so sensually against yours. Your vision began to blur as your walls eagerly pulled his manhood back inside, each thrust accompanied by his praises.

"Simon, gotta quiet…" You whispered to him and trying your best to keep quiet. You were completely spent, stretched to the limit by his skilled cock. No other man would ever be able to fill you so fully or even fit after experiencing Simon's prowess.

"Who says?" Simon's voice was deep, teasing, and seductive as he watched you while thrusting and grinding against you. He was impressed that you could still speak coherently while being pleasured by him like never before. He didn't care who heard you; anyone listening would know exactly who he was - the one giving you the best fuck of your life. This only fueled him to adjust his grip on you, lifting you higher against him so he could penetrate deeper and touch every nerve in your body with each thrust.

That's all it took, your mind was completely consumed by him, unable to do anything but moan endlessly from the passionate experience. You exploded around him, covering his cock in a frothy white mess as your mixed juices flowed out of you. Your hips were connected by thick tethers of cum, evidence of just how full and satisfied you were after being thoroughly fucked by Simon.

Simon pulled out slowly, admiring the trails of cum connecting the two of you. He wanted more, but seeing the tired look in your eyes weakened him. Another loud knock on the wall broke through the moment, causing him to roll his eyes.

Looking back down at you, he noticed that you had fallen asleep. It seemed like he may have gone a little too far. Letting out an affectionate sigh, he gently patted your thigh before getting up and moving around your room.

He went into your bathroom to grab a washcloth and wet it before returning to carefully clean you up. The warm cloth stirred you awake and you murmured in response. "Mmm…?" Simon stated simply, "Just cleaning you up, pet." He made sure to leave no trace of the mess you both had made on your body.

What a man he is. You watch his every move until he pulls away, but then reach out to stop him, pulling him into bed with you. "Stay."

Simon raises an eyebrow and for the first time tonight, he's about to protest until you suddenly kiss him, silencing any words he had planned to say. "Well, since you asked so nicely."

Together, you lay next to each other in bed, still tingling from the sex. His arm instinctively wraps around your waist and without saying a word, he pulls you close, letting your head rest against his warm chest as you listen to his heartbeat. Together, you sit in silence for a while until finally, the question that has been on your mind since he you met him slips out. "So, are you GD?"

Simon's eyes widen in shock before he quickly tries to play it cool by trailing his fingers teasingly down your spine. "Why? Are you a fan?

He causes you to shiver as you hum in response, rolling your eyes playfully. This guy, he's full of jokes, isn't he? "I don't know... I think I'm more than a fan at this point."

♡! I tried to make this one really long because It's been literally TWO MONTHS. I'm so sorry. I had planned to come back in April after school died down but I ended up getting nerve damage in my dominant hand and was left unable to type. I hope this makes up for it :c!!

˚ ✦ . Taglist (People who commented): @forgotten-lego-piece @theirkenfiles @gluttonybiscuits @urbimom @blackhawkfanatic @mimidonottouch @madamemelancholysstuff

[von2dutch]

Sugar Baby | Jey Uso

Synopsis: Sex is not a big deal. ...You can have a no-strings-attached arrangement with someone you don’t care about.

Pairing: Jey uso X Black Fem reader | word count: 3.1k | warning: smut, toxic behavior , protected sex | 18+ ONLY

A/N This is my first time writing on here so bear with me I’m new to learning the app I hope you all enjoy it it’s also my first time writing a Jey uso fanfic so please go easy on me. A few writers inspired me to want to write about him I’m not sure if they want to be tagged I don’t want to seem disrespectful but if they do I’ll gladly @ them!

Series master list

Lastly , Enjoy

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Dakota groaned in discomfort, "Ugh, jeez, I'm so sore, I can barely stand..." Jasmine chuckled in agreement, "Haha, I know right? I didn't expect that workout to be so intense.

“Me neither, my whole body is killing me right now…girl remind me to never come to the gym with your ass!” Dakota Murmured in a low breathing trying to regain her breath, her hands kneeled down on her knees taking each breath one at a time. Before standing tall grabbing her water to follow jasmine lead to the front desk.

“girl please all that ass you got you should want to be in shape for your old man sugar daddy.”

Dakota stopped in her tracks staring a hole into her best friend of 6 years in the head, with a mug plastered over her face she spoke again “Omg for the last time that man isn’t that old and he ain’t my sugar daddy!”

Jasmine looked back pursuing her lips together looking at her best friend like she was dumb “whatever you say ms.like em’ old.”

“But ion blame you because last time you came to me with your wig completely fucked up after seeing him, fuck he got super dick?”

Dakota chuckled at her best friends antics seemingly use to it but without jasmine in her life she wouldn’t have any entertainment without her silly jokes.

“No he just knows how to work this thang!” Dakota laughed before sticking her tongue out as the two walked up to the front desk.

While Dakota was focused on making another week ahead for the gym next week, Jasmine eyes were stuck on whoever just walked into the gym.

Jasmine Nuged Dakota shoulder before she turned around with a mug irritated already by her bothering her with Dakota already being tired and trained from an intense workout the two just had “Ain’t that your boy or should I say ol’ man.”

Dakota knitted her eyebrows together in confusion and also curiosity as she turned her body and attention to wherever jasmine focused was and there he was.

Jey Uso

In the flesh there he was looking ever so good , his presence so commanding and charismatic that she couldn't help but admire him with his twin brother Jimmy and a little behind them was their younger brother solo, walking. As they approached a group of men, it looked as if they beckoned them over with friendly gestures.

As Dakota glanced over at Joshua, she couldn't help but take notice of his impressive attire. He was sporting a pair of blue Nike shorts that hugged his body in all the right places, along with black Nike socks that were neatly tucked into his white gym shoes. On his head, he wore a fitted black bloodline hat, which was turned backwards and allowed his mullet to peek through the back. The red tips of his hair added a touch of boldness to his overall look, which suited him perfectly. As he stood there with his bare chest on display, his chiseled abs were impossible to miss. Tribal tattoos adorned his arms and chest, with two more visible on his back. All in all, Joshua's appearance was a sight to behold.

She watched as he greeted the three men before grasping both hands onto a pull up bar his palms facing away from him lifting his entire body going up and down up and down as she watched closely.

She couldn’t help but to stare at his bare back moving ever so smoothly, he hung his body up back and forth downwards she got a flashback from their last meet up two months ago which made her bite her lip titling her head slightly watching as he kept going.

Flashback

“Move yo hand this what you wanted right?” Jey responded to Dakota as she pleaded for him to slow down she tried to push him back away from her as he dicked her down so deep she could Hardly breathe.

she burried her head into the white colored sheets of the hotel room she couldn’t help but cry tears of joy but also pain as his strokes got deeper and deeper from behind “Jeyyyy…b-baby slow down…ugh.”

“Nah you talked all that shit on the phone, I wanna see you take all this dick don’t run from it.”

“Ion even know why you like to play with me princess, you know I’ll fly yo’ ass out to fuck you up.” Joshua spoke with Venom in his voice as his chest heaved up and down, chest beaming with sweat. he pushed a hand down on her neck to pin her down further her ass purked up nicely in his view.

It all started with Dakota missing him which resulted in her being a bitch towards Jey, calling him out his name as far as a “bitch” because he hadn’t been paying her no attention at all the past few weeks. She knew he had a tight schedule as a professional wrestler which has his undefined attention at all times but she also wanted his attention as well even with her just being a sugar baby known as a woman he just used for sex and entertainment when he wanted it.

Now here she was ass up face down and burried into the white sheets of his hotel room as he fucked her viciously from behind pining her down to the bed so she couldn’t run with no where to go. He wanted her to feel all of him from anger slightly misplaced with lust.

“Nah baby use this dick and fuck me back , daddy ain’t going no where.”

Dakota did as told throwing her ass back on him but with much more force while she occupied her fingers underneath her playing with herself. She felt so much pressure and pain all in one her feet became hot with them curled up as he went deeper with each stroke he took.

Taking her breath away literally.

“Mhm you taking this dick like a good girl huh?” Jey rasped slamming into her making Dakota let out a loud moan.

She could feel her body become hot as she felt a knot in her stomach indicating she was about to cum.

“shit!” She cursed under her breath, Jey thrusting into her wet gushy insides.

Joshua watched his dick slide in and out Dakota’s hole, her white creams painting his beautiful Carmel dick, his balls slapping against her clit with every hard thrust he took.

Dakota let out beautiful whimpers, her ass and titties jiggling with the rhythm of Jey’s hard strokes.

Jey grabbed Dakota’s hair, wrapping it around his fist as he thrusted into her harder.

Josh pulled on her hair, forcing her head up as she looked at herself through a the mirror which was in the corner of the room. Her make up smeared with tears , hair all over the place she knew she would need a redo on her hair when she got back home to Atlanta. Her mouth agape as she let out loud moans which couldn’t be heard outside of the hotel room from how thick and sound proof the walls were.

“Uh huh, daddy deep in his pussy ain’t he?” he questioned panting, his tattooed chest heaving up and down.

when Dakota didn’t answer Jey yanked her hair making Dakota let out a loud moan.

“shit! Y-yes daddy it’s fucking deep!” she cried out as tears cascaded her pretty Carmel cheeks.

Jey smiled deviously at her through the mirror, sliver jeweled grills peaking through. feeling her walls clench around him he groaned. he sent a hard snack to Dakota’s ass, “you throwing that ass back like a big girl , baby? You gon’ keep taking this dick like one too.”

Dakota did as told, her taking control again as she bounced back and forth on his length, Joshua bit his lip watching his dick disappear into her whole every time.

The one thing he missed the most was her ass jiggling from behind as he buried his dick deep inside her, her smooth toned back arched ever so slight but at the moment her chest laid flat on the bed while he continued his torture.

“fuck!” Dakota moaned with her face planted in the bed, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she continued rocking her body.

“Un huh, Baby take this dick.”

“you gotta cum, ma?” Jey questioned, grunting afterwards.

“yes!” Dakota whined reaching her hand underneath her and rubbing at her clit once more, her legs trembling outrageously.

Jey bit his lip harshly, blood drawing as he groaned at the metallic taste.

“gon head Dakota .” He rasped, on cue Dakota and Joshua reached their limits. Her white creams painted all over his dick, her juices squirted out of her and onto Jey’s lower stomach.

Flashback over

“Dakota!” Jasmine's voice echoed through Dakota’s empty ears as she called out to her best friend Dakota, who seemed lost in thought. "Dakota! Dakota, Dakota?!!" she repeated, her tone growing more urgent and annoyed with each call. She wondered what could be occupying Dakota's mind so much that she didn't even hear her friend's voice.

Then it hit her. Jey he was who had her so snapped out of it she watched her best friend bite her lip in daze a, watching him do repeated pull ups.

Finally After staring into the distance for a while, Dakota was brought back to reality when she heard someone calling her name. With a confused look on her face, she looked up and stuttered, "H-huh, what did you say, Jas?"

“I said there go ya’ boy and there he is right now making his way over.” Jasmine said as he indeed was making his way over to them while Dakota mouth hung low she tried her to best to maintain herself. She often felt nervous around Josh and she herself didn’t know why because she wasn’t a shy woman but with him? He had her shy like a school girl.

“Wassup jasmine.” Jey greeted Jasmine with a friendly head nod and a warm smile, before turning his attention to Dakota. With a mischievous grin and a wink “and hey pretty mama.”

With a mischievous grin, he knew exactly what to say to make her radiant smile light up the room. As he gazed at her, he couldn't help but notice the intricate details of her gym outfit, appreciating the way it hugged her curves and highlighted her strong physique.

She wore Black gymshark vital seamless neck sports bra with vital seamless black shorts that hugged her body waist down ever so gently which showed her ass out more flaw. Her breast glazed with sweat as it stucked together almost peeling out of the sports bra her nipples hard as ever from how cold the gym was. Accompanied with white socks and grey gym shoes.

She looked damn good.

“Hey Josh.” She smiled dimples ever so deep into her skin that her pearly white teeth showed all of her teeth from how big she smiled. Gushing with butterflies in her stomach if she was any lighter you could see how red her face was from blushing.

“Hey Josh.” Jasmine mumbled mimicking her with an eye roll immensely laughing at how shy her best friend was. In 27 years of knowing her she never saw her best friend so shy she was always a Fierce Woman, very outspoken. So to see her like this so gushed over this man was surprising and undoubtedly hilarious.

“Shut up.” Dakota mumbled gritting through her teeth while she tried to keep a smile on her face.

To break the awkward silence Josh spoke “Uhh so you leaving?”

“Oh yeah me and jasmine are finished for the day and go grab some food then head home and shower. I see you’re with your brother.”

“Yeah he wanted to come to the gym before the big night Monday.”

“Well it was nice seeing yo— nah we ain’t gon end it like that ma gimme me a hug uce.” Josh insisted opening his arms for a hug she embraced him her hands rubbing against his bare back.

His entire body felt so soft and warm along with his significant cologne he always wore that drove her crazy with how good he smelled.

Josh hands snaked down to her ass grabbing it gently with a soft smack before leaving a wet kiss on her neck before whispering. “You might wanna cover that up uce.” He chuckled at her eyes bucking at the embarrassment she felt when she realized he was referring to the hickey on her neck that her gave her last month.

Gasping she quickly covered it with her hand before grabbing Jasmines hand leading her out the door “Bye Josh!”

“Girllll that man got you whipped huh!” Jasmine joked laughing at how school girl he had Dakota before unlocking the doors to her Mercedes Benz truck both hopping in.

“Whatever.”

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• Instagram story

Dakota.Valentine • 25 secs ago

“Bye Josh.” Dakota chuckled at a TikTok he sent her via message, before hearting it smiling ear from ear. It was a TikTok of a man buying his girlfriend chicken wings when she asked for wings as in pads for her menstrual cycle but he got her wingstop with jey replying with a “Gon be me when you come back over my house, yeet!”

“Oh you in love.” Jasmine affirmed looking at her best friend blush at her phone something she did their whole lunch.

“I am not!”

“Is too!”

Dakota fixed her posture in her seat now facing jasmine directly placing her phone face down on the table giving her undefined attention “and what makes you possible think that?”

“Hmm well for starters the man bough you a mirror vanity with a Chanel purse and a basket of fruit all because you said you wanted to show yourself this year and do beauty content for social media.”

“Then he buys you roses every month even if he misses a few days he buys dozens for each day he missed along with a stack of money, he as well spoils you with gifts, paid for you to go to talum for your birthday, bought you a ring and also rented out a mall for the both of you so you could shop dedicating the whole day to you with a massage, paid for your hair , nails, AND makes sure you eat paying for every meal plus he took you on how many dates?”

“Shall I go on?”

Dakota sat there taking in everything her best friend was saying with nothing to deflect with, she was right Joshua did all those things without her having to asking for anything he just did it because whatever he saw that he thought would look good on her or what made her smile the biggest he got it.

“Then you cook for him everytime he’s in town for his Monday night raw and smack down shows in Atl kota.” Jasmine stated pursing her lips together while she waited for a response. Dakota sat there with a dumbfounded expression.

Thats when realization sat in she realized she was in love, he did so many things for her that she never had done before not even in past relationship. He was there for her in so many ways than just sex, he was there emotionally, physically , and mentally. He cared deeply for Dakota as much as she cared for him. They’ve Had deep conversations about life and marriage something neither ever done with anyone they connected on a deeper level than Just sex he was there for her when she lost her mother a few months back and ever since then he never left her side he was always there.

Despite his best efforts to hide it, Joshua was undeniably smitten with Dakota. Though he was a more mature and experienced man, he couldn't help but pour his heart out to her, showering her with a level of affection she had never before experienced in her life. His love for her was pure and genuine, and she could sense it in every little thing he did.

Despite her best efforts to be difficult and toxic, he always handled her with care and honesty. He was the type of man who never played games, especially when it came to business. He led with authority, yet he had a soft and gentle side. He was dominant without being aggressive but real smooth but you knew he ran shit. His charismatic and funny personality, his loving nature, and his hardworking aura made her focus on him completely. Whenever she was around him, she felt safe and comfortable, knowing that he would always be there to protect and support her.

In past relationships Dakota had never felt safe nor comfortable with men but with Josh it all felt so natural.

The two meet at a bar in Pensacola , Florida where Dakota was in town visiting a client of hers for styling. She was a celebrity stylist, she loved fashion and always dreamed of being a fashion designer or stylist. While she sat at the bar alone josh couldn’t help but stare at the young women, her soft brown legs shined with baby oil along with a black dress that hugged her body so tightly and well , a face a man would die for but he thought her face was better to nut on in his dirty mind.

He walked up to her with a few smooth and flirtatious words which pulled her in instantly jey was always smooth with the ladies. A ladies man of course. With that he prospered to her a deal that he spoiled her of course as well as have sex with her but no string attached as well kinda friends with benefits or a sugar daddy which he wouldn’t call it more so tricking with sex alongside.

Jey was 32 years old and Dakota was four years younger than him at 27. Despite the age difference, the two were still deeply attracted to each other. However, when Dakota was first presented with the proposal that she didn't quite understand or want to accept, she hesitated. The idea of doing something like that was foreign to her, but a little voice in her head, which she recognized as Jasmine's, urged her to "get that money, bitch!" Despite already having her own source of income, Dakota eventually agreed to the proposal.

Starting from the summer of July 2022, the two individuals became inseparable. Their bond grew stronger as they spent time together, and before they knew it, January 2023 had arrived, marking the beginning of a new year that they brought in together. Despite the initial plan to spend only three months together, Josh kept extending their time together, much to the surprise of his companion. She found it odd that he was reluctant to part ways and kept prolonging their time together, but she couldn't help but wonder why.

Was he also in love?

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All I really want to say my darling

Today is a special day we call our own

So take me in your arms and hold me

And tell me you love me

And I'll be there for you

The soft lyrics of Tony! Toni! Tone! Played throughout Dakotas high rise apartment while she finished up on the last touch’s of the cornbread. Dakota was cooking baked macaroni, yams, collard greens, fire chicken with a side of duffeled eggs.

A loud thud on the counter went off as her phone ding with a text message from Jey.

iMessage

Yeet master jey!❤️

I’m here come open the door lady uce!

After meticulously washing her hands, she swiftly dried them off to ensure there were no traces of germs left on her skin. As she reached the door, she saw Josh standing outside, holding a beautiful bouquet of roses in his left hand. A wide smile appeared on her face as she approached him, and he opened his arms, inviting her in for a warm embrace. "Jey, I missed you!" she exclaimed before jumping into his arms. He caught her effortlessly with just one arm, and the two of them burst into uncontrollable laughter, filled with joy and happiness as they held each other tightly.

“I missed you too ko.” Dakota heart warmed at the small nickname he gave her.

“Aww are these for me?” She smiled widely taking the rose from jey she walked towards the kitchen sitting them on the counter. “Of course gotta get my princess something.”

Cheesing to herself she inquired him with a question “Mmhm when were you going to tell me you was in town?”

“Well I was tryna surprise you but I saw you all at the gym looking gorgeous.” He stated wrapping his arms around Dakota from behind he moved her hair out her face leaving a few wet on her neck she responded with a low moan.

“Unt unt let me finish cooking Josh.” She chuckled at his antics of trying to seduce her but she had other plans in mind.

Stepping back with his hands in surrender he spoke “alright alright but how you been? You’ve been eating?” He caressed her cheek staring into her brown hazel nut eyes. “Yes jey I have.”

“You better.” He pecked her lips a few times before moving back looking over her admiring her body.

Dakota has fell into small depression she thought maybe she was too big and wanted to be slimmer so she stopped eating to lose weight and also in the gym but Jey put a stop to that immediately because she was perfect the way she was and she wouldn’t want her any other way.

“I missed you.” Jey spoke with their soft eyes looking directly At Dakota.

“I missed you more.” She responded softly turning her body to face him.

“Missed you so much girl.” He embraced her into a hug, hugging tight as he wrapped his legs around her like spider man hanging his feet in the cabinet while she laughed at his goofy self “It’s all you girl!”

“All you girl!”

“Omg Joshua what is wrong with you.” Dakota laughed once more her stomach hurting from much she laughed her cheeks sore a bit from how hard she smiled. She was in love.

Letting her go he left a few kisses all over her face till she laughed Again before asking her something “So umm…I got a show tomorrow and I want you come.” He asked shyly as if it was the first time he ever took her one of his shows to watch him to wrestle.

“Of course! I’d love to watch you beat some ass.” She smiled punching at his chest playfully.

“Good cause Jimmy been asking about you “where koko?”josh mimicked his twin brother Jonathan earring a small laugh from Dakota.

“Aww my good ol’ friend can’t wait to see him tomorrow.”

“Plus tomorrow is raw XXX tomorrow you know it’s gon be lit.” Smiles thinking about what was in store tomorrow for the fans which included the bloodline with Sami Zayn.

“Oh tell your little girlfriend stop messaging me I’ll hate to beat a bitch.” Dakota scolded Josh rolling her eyes.

Who?

“You know who”

As jey stood there in thought as if he was dumb he then realized who she was talking about “oh Chanel?” He said still acting clueless.

“Who the fuck else Joshua!” She raised her voice slightly removing his arms from around her.

Chanel was an old mistress of Jeys and he broke things off with her two months in but she couldn’t take him leaving her due to the contract ending so she stalked him and was a bitch to every new woman he used for sex and entertainment which was Dakota. It all started in September when Josh and Dakota where out at a restaurant having a few drinks and dinner when Chanel popped up on the two “Oh so this why you’ve been ignoring for this new bitch?!” Channel shouted in the restaurant cashing a scene.

Which escalated in her and Dakota having a back and forth because in all Dakota wasn’t fighting over no man especially not jey no matter how charming he was she wasn’t but the disrespect she took from Chanel wasn’t going to keep happening.

“Look I told you she ain’t my girl and plus ima handle it.” Jey reassured Dakota waving her off.

“You better because I’ll hate to gut a bitch eyes out. Keep fucking with m— What I say?” He cut her off glaring at her with dominance.

“Okay I heard you.” She pouted “but you better handle it cause I don’t have time.” She sighed wrapping her arms around her chest.

Pulling her into an embrace he wrapped his arms around her body rubbing up and down her sides soft and smoothly. “I said I got Dakota don’t worry okay?”

“Okay.”

For a while there was some silence the only thing that could be heard was the music being played from her speaker that was a till she broke the silence with a question “can I ask you something?”

“Yeah , go ahead.”

Dakota started to think back on what Jasmine said was she in love with Josh? Was he in love with her? The question lingered in her mind so much she needed to to know. Even with them not supposed to falling eachother because of the agreement of no strings attached she couldn’t help but fall for him.

“Do your ever….think maybe we could be a couple?” She questioned with pleading eyes but also wanting honesty with anything he threw at her.

Jey thought long and hard for a min before giving her an answer “Honestly no, I mean you’re a gorgeous and talented woman but Dakota we both know this isn’t what we agreed to no strings attached and after a divorce I went through a year ago I ain’t ready for another relationship.”

“You’re just another one of my clients.”

Everything hit her deep in the heart like someone stabbed after hearing those words everything shattered for her. What was she thinking? She didn’t know she even thought he would ever slow down things for her just because he had sex with her but she had hoped

Maybe she wasn’t in love.

To be continued.

I hope you all enjoyed this! More to come let me know if you want chapter two of this series? Also leave comments.

Opinions on jey, Dakota, jasmine , or even Chanel?

How we thinking about the relationship of Jey and Dakota will they fall for each other in the long run?

Lmk and again thank you for reading I hope you all enjoyed! Excuse any mistakes please till next!🎀

Also if you want to be added for a tag-list comment and I got you!

[pierregazly]

1+ 2 = ...4? ꨄ pierre gasly smau

pierre gasly x wife!russell!reader

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of twins, george having a meltdown

in which pierre put his tripod to use and caused two major outcomes, george has a meltdown, and all the fans just want to know what's going on?

ynrussell

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tagged pierregasly

ynrussell joyeux anniversaire mon amour. three years ago today i married the love of my life and became the official mrs. gasly, so excited to give you your present tonight 🫶🏻

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username omg babes post the present!!! let us all be jealous

username happy anniversary mom and dad

charles_leclerc 🥳💗

username feel like it was just yesterday that i was jealous out of my mind about their wedding... still jealous tho

pierregasly joyeux anniversaire ma chère, i am the luckiest man in the world

pierregasly can't wait to give your your own present tonight

pierregasly it rhymes with tierod

username TRIPOD PIERRE

username im SCREAMING send this man right to PRISON

georgerussell63 god every time i see anything to do with you two i have to bleach my bloody eyes. happy anniversary you two, im disgusted.

username poor george, him and carmen are so tame compared to these two... i love the polar opposite sibling trope

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replies

pierregasly i hope the pizza was good ma chérie, and hope it satisfied the little bean's cravings

ynrussell it was delicious... but we kind of want chocolate now too :(

pierregasly ill check ubereats and see what i can do

ynrussell mine and the bean's saviour 🫶🏻

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pierregasly unfortunately not the finish we would have liked, the 15 second penalty cost us significantly and i apologize to my team and all our fans for it. will come back bigger and better next time 💪 now time to go and spend some well deserved time off with my family

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username thank you for pushing through and giving us an awesome race to watch pierre!

username loved your helmet this weekend pierre!

username sad that mother ynrussell wasn't here this weekend, but happy to see her in the likes

username 'well deserved time off with my family' do we think that's alluding to something else????

username girl he's obviously talking about his wife and his family??? like what

username ummm sorry he almost always says 'my loved ones' gotta push the pregnancy rumour agenda some more

ynrussell we're all so proud of you pear 🫶🏻 the track limits and penalties are bullshit and i'll be sending a strongly worded letter to whoever costs you anything good

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pierregasly 😂😭🤍

username who is 'we're all' who is the plural that she's referring to omg

username i'm telling y'all... mother is becoming a real mother idc what any of y'all say

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ynrussell omf make sure you get extra cheesecake... and extra elcairs, and a few brownies... maybe get a few of everything??? the bean's want them!!!!

pierregasly well if the bean's want them....

username this SCREAMS my wife is pregnant and sent me on a late night snack run omf

username tell us your secret!!!!

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ynrussell sorry just have to appreciate how incredibly sexy it is seeing my super sexy amazing husband with kids!!! like how lucky am i!!! can't wait til' you're holding our future babies (my ovaries are exploding, i am crying, it's going to be a long day)

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username girl this seems a little feral idk

georgerussell63 this is certifiably disgusting. please grow up.

username you know who would post something like this??? a wife expecting a baby who is getting more excited about that baby seeing her husband with kids

username seems legit idk

pierregasly is this your nice way of asking me to pickup more eclairs on the way home?

ynrussell cinnamon buns too?? please?? je t'aime

pierregasly can't wait to hold our future bean's too ma chérie

username pierre as a dad is going to be so sexy, ynrussell is so right??? those babies are going to be beautiful omf

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pierregasly october 2024 / gasly thing 1 and gasly thing 2 🐣🚼

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ynrussell omg i'm pregnant???? SURPRISE

ynrussell maman is begging for them to come sooner, her poor back.

username AH I KNEW IT. I CALLED IT. MY HEART.

username THING 1 AND THING 2 AHHHHH

username pierre is gonna be a girl dad AND a boy dad?????? we're so blessed

georgerussell63 excuse me????

georgerussell63 you knocked my sister up????

georgerussell63 i told you to stay away from her??? this is outrageous i am disgusted

pierregasly sorry, tripod's work well.

ynrussell pierre delete this comment rn, i swear to god.

georgerussell63 (i am so excited to meet my baby niece and baby nephew. uncle georgie loves you both so much)

lewishamilton congratulations! roscoe is so excited 🤍

charles_leclerc uncle cha reporting for duty 🫡 congratulations, you two.

georgerussell63 i'd like to emphasize i'm still having a meltdown from when you casually gave me a bottle of gin to announce this. gasly genes should not be casually mixed like this.

username i dont think anyone understands the joy im feeling??? im honoured to be alive to see this

username they're gonna be such amazing parents im literally ????? so excited??????

carmenmmundt has posted a story

liked by ynrussell, pierregasly, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

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ynrussell thank you for the beautiful baby shower, auntie carmen already has spot number 1 🫶🏻

username omg omg omg omg

username this is SO CUTE

ynrussell has posted a story

liked by pierregasly, carmenmmundt, georgerussell63, and others

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username girl u look like ur about to pop (lovingly)

pierregasly my beautiful wife

ynrussell i don't feel very beautiful right now. i feel huge and tired and exhausted.

pierregasly still the most beautiful woman in the world

ynrussell

liked by pierregasly, alexandrasaintmleux, georgerussell63, and 56,439 others

ynrussell things are getting very, very real (not real enough for my back to not hurt, thing 1 and 2 you both are killing me)

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username this aesthetic is so CUTE (that room is fucking beautiful i want a house tour????)

username they're literally due in like less than 2 months???? pierre is gonna be a dad that soon???? praying for u ynrussell

charles_leclerc im personally demanding compensation for the bruises i have from putting the nursery together

ynrussell shut up cha, you literally offered and begged to be involved

pierregasly yeah shut up cha

alexandrasaintmleux can't wait to see my art piece up in the bébé's room 🫶🏻

ynrussell knew i could always count on you angel

username im so invested in this pregnancy none of you even understand

username starting a poll asap on the babies names omf

ynrussell and pierregasly

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, roscoelovescoco, and 675,487 others

ynrussell 2024.10.16 / welcome to the world my precious théodore and éloïse. maman and papa love you so much.

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username omg congratulations!!! such beautiful names.

username they share a birthday with charles im crying

lewishamilton congratulations! so beautiful, you are a rockstar ynrussell

charles_leclerc truly the best birthday present i could've asked for. ellie and théo should be so proud of their maman.

pierregasly the happiest day of my life, given to me by the most important woman in my life. thank you for blessing me.

username again i am so invested in this. i am so happy for these two, they're going to be incredible parents.

alpinef1team welcome to the family baby éloïse and baby théodore!

mercedesamg welcome to the family x2

username oh girl the racing teams are gonna FIGHT over these two just you wait

and there she is! after weeks of gasly!twin asks, i finally decided it was time to bring them to life in the realest way i could. i hope you all loved this as much as i loved writing it. thank you to everyone for all the incredible inspiration, and for continuing my obsession.

taglist

@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @princessria127 @iloveyou3000morgan @love4lando @asfaraslifegets @decseptapril @somanyfandomsbruh @fangirl125reader @imagandom @motorsp0rt @jspitwall @glitterf1 @christianpulisic10 @carlandonorri-s @smoothopz @eugene-emt-roe @epitios @myloverjk-blog @glow-ish @goldenmclaren @mercunty @success78 @nicolereinara

if you're missing from the taglist, pls dont hesitate to send me a message!!

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗦𝗛𝗛𝗛 lando norris x girlfriend! reader (fluff+smut) “. . . you're finally able to attend one of your boyfriend's races and he super exited things get interesting”

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests | taglist )

"Lando." "Give me like . . . 5 more hours." The boy was sleeping, curled up on some blankets that he put together. One of the members of his team was trying to wake him up, because you were here. The team had put so much effort into flying you to Monaco, and now, Lando was being too lazy to see his surprise.

You were sitting beside him, but like an idiot, he didn't notice at all. "Alright, I'm out." You yawned, standing up and walking passing by in front of Lando and out the garage.

Lando was still half asleep, he thought he must've been dreaming. Sitting up and looking at your disappearing figure. "Am I- Is she?" He couldn't get a word out, not being able to differentiate between reality and dreams.

The team was laughing at him, gesturing and telling him to go catch you before you leave ( which you would not ). He quickly ran out, stumbling over his feet while looking for you. You, who knew he'd be searching for you like a maniac waited at the entrance where he wouldn't see you.

"Where did she-" "Tag. You're it, mother fucker." You tapped his shoulder quickly before running off. "No fair!" You could hear Lando shout as he tried to catch up to you. The first thing that came to mind was to go into the media pin. What you did not plan was hiding behind max, the blond looking confused as you and lando ran circles around him.

"Max don't just- Y/N! Come here! Max help me." Max chuckled taking a sip of his can, shrugging at the interviewer with a smile. "Max please!" "Max no-" you were to late, once the redbull driver put his hand up to stop you, you were immediately lifted up from your thighs by Lando, who quickly around away with you.

"My girlfriend!" He cheered again and again bouncing you up and down ad he ran through the paddock exited, showing you off to everyone. "The love of my life!" He laughed with the widest smile on his face.

You tried to turn around so you look down at him. You were a laughing mess, you've never seen him this happy. "Lando. Put me down." You said in between laughs as he continued to run around and spin you. "But you'll run away." He argued pouting. "I'll give you a kiss." You bribed with a smirk which made him quickly lower you and hug you by your waist.

His bashful smile spread across his face as he waited for you to kiss him. And you did leaning up and pecking his nose. "Heyyy." He whined trying to kiss you properly. "I never said where, I just told you I'd give a kiss." Lando pouted. "Oh my God, I'm dating a puppy."

You chuckled before you were pushed from behind into a kiss. Lando quickly savored it, cupping the back of your head so you wouldn't pull away. And once you did, you looked back to see Daniel Riccardo and Max Verstappen, standing there, looking around like they didn't do anything.

"Oh! Oh my God. Is that you Y/N? Long time no see." Daniel looked at you, pretending this was his first time seeing you, even though he was standing 2 feet away from you. "How are you, how's uni?"

"Going good." You nodded looking at max who still pretend like he was innocent, looking around nodding at random things. "She's looking at me and I know I'm going to pushed in the pool."

"Yes, she will." You chuckled taking Lando's hand, pulling him along. "So, see you all on Friday?" You nodded ready to leave with the ball of sunshine next to you. "You're not going to spend the day with us?" Max asked gesturing to the redbull garage.

"Yeah marketing has a few games for us to play, you don't wanna join." Daniel added. You've known this group for sometime. After growing up alongside Max on the track and being best friends with Daniel, you met Lando who eased into your life and made a cozy spot for himself.

"I'm sorry guys, but me and Lan have things to catch up on." You looked at your boyfriend smiling. "Back at the hote-" "Ew, aren't you two like 5?" Danny shook his head disapprovingly. "We don't don't need to know." Max scrunched his nose in disgust looking away.

"Max I can hear you and that Porsche driver from across the city." You told him in a matter of fact-ly. "Me and Mijn liefje are not loud." He nudged your shoulder chuckling. You and your ball of sunshine eventually made it out of there, running alongside each other to Lando's apartment hand in hand laughing together.

Running into his apartment, you two started undressing as soon as you shut the door, stumbling over your clothes as you made your way to the bedroom. Lando sat on the bed first catching you as soon as you straddled his lap falling on his back as you two began making out.

Laughs and giggles could be heard between you as hands explored each other's bodies. "Did they grow bigger? I feel like they did." He asked gripping your boobs gently. "Says you Mr. Abs, when did you get these?" You giggled pulling away as you look down at his bare stomach, tracing his muscles.

"Do you like them?" He asked holding your waist and pulling you further closer to him. "The look good on you." You nodded leaning down and kissing his jaw and neck. "Makes you look like a young Greek God." You hummed pulling away.

Intertwining your fingers together, you pinned his hands above his head, aligning yourself with him. The boy could only admire you. "Why are you smiling like that?" You chuckled raising an eyebrow. "What I can't smile at my girlfriend any more?" You giggled, leaning down and kissing him softly.

Lando swallowed the moans that came from your mouth, raising his hips out of impatience. He wanted more from you, all of you. "Slow down. We're not in a rush." You mumbled in between kisses, moans slipping from your lips as you finally settled down all the way. "Yeah but, I want you." He whispered back looking into your eyes.

You only chuckled, kissing him gently before sitting up and brushing your hair behind your back, you settled your hands on the boy's chest leaning forward slightly as you started moving. "Oh fuck, baby." Lando moaned holding your hips to guide you ( more like to touch you ). "You're so tight." He grumbled closing his eyes so he could only concentrate on you.

Much to his dismay, his phone started ringing. Leaning back a little, you peak through the door frame. The phone was in the pile of clothes you created earlier, desperately trying to get your attention. "Noo." Lando whined, hugging your waist and puling you back closer, his mouth found your skin where he took the opportunity to kiss and nibble, leaving marks behind.

You could feel him desperately try to thrust up into you, to get some friction. He moaned your name as you gently played with his curls leaning your head on his shoulder. Although Lando was on the average side, he fit you perfectly, and you wouldn't want no other.

"My love." He stuttered catching your lips. You smiled into the kiss, cupping his name as his hug tightened on you. Moving back a little, you laid you on your back with him on top, quickly wrapping your legs around his abdomen so he can continue with his thrusts.

Moans slipped from your lips as soon as he did. "How did I get so lucky?" He mumbled into your neck making you giggle. Lando's hand was trailing all over your body, exploring and admiring your being when he was interrupted once more. That stupid phone ringing again.

"I'll go get it." You mumbled attempting to break free from his hold. "Lando let go." The boy only held on, whining like a lost puppy. You chuckled kissing his head before breaking free and getting the phone. It was Carlos, which surprized. "Hola." You greeted walking back to bed to the impatient McLaren driver. "Y/N? What are you doing here?" . . . Well you were doing his best friend, but you could leave that part out.

"Doing? Me? Nothing important." You joked which made Lando look at you offended. You chuckled silently as you sat on your boyfriend's lap, holding his shoulders. "Well we might as well invite you too, is Lando there?" Carlos asked. You looked down at your boyfriend who was laying on his back looking at you disapprovingly. "No." You replied giggling down at the boy who only rolled his eyes.

"What's that idiot doing?" Carlos chuckled, as you covered said person with your free hand. Lando looked at you confused. He answered his own question as a moan escaped his lungs. "What was that?" Carlos cut you off hearing the noise. "Lando stubbed his toe. You want to talk to him?" "Yes please."

The brunette was shaking his head aggressively as you handed him the phone, you removed your hand from his mouth as you leaning back, moving again. Your boyfriend could only grip onto your thighs as he arranged plans with his friend. You were a pro at staying silent, unlike the stuttering boy beneath you.

His breaths were getting shorter and faster and he was more out of it with Carlos, holding one of your hands desperately. You knew he was close and you let him have it. "H-hey, I'll call you back." Lando cut off, ending the call quickly.

You could feel him begging for release, grunts and groans escaping his mouth. All he could do was take what you gave him. You could only laugh when his hips stuttered. "You- I- no idea." Failing to put a sentence together, you kissed him gently snuggling into him. "I love you." He finally said. "I love you." You returned kissing his cheek.