#forever and always thinking about how there Was No Other Way

[jupiterpilgrim]

Stolen Rendezvous

Karina x Male Reader

word count: 20K

commissioned fic

There’s nothing better than this—no overprotective parents watching your every move, no ridiculous rules about “focus” and “priorities,” no feeling like a fugitive every time you even think about touching her. Just you, her, and the freedom that comes with a empty house, stretching out before you like a playground with no fences.

Because normally? Seeing Karina like this is impossible. Her parents made sure of that. They’ve been drilling the same rule into her head for years—No dating until after college. No distractions, no boys, no late-night calls or sneaking out for secret dates. She’s supposed to be focused, disciplined, dedicated to nothing but her studies and her “future.” They don’t care that she’s a grown woman, that she’s more than capable of balancing school and a relationship. To them, love is just another distraction, another thing standing in the way of their perfect, high-achieving daughter.

And when they found out about you? All hell broke loose.

They showed up at your house—uninvited, pissed off, and ready for war. Sat your parents down in the living room like they were negotiating some hostage situation, talking about “respect” and “boundaries” and how you were ruining Karina’s focus. They made it clear—they didn’t want you anywhere near their daughter. And somehow, in their effort to “keep the peace,” your parents caved. Maybe they didn’t want drama, maybe they just thought it’d be easier to go along with it, but either way, they sat you down after and gave you the same bullshit speech—no more Karina. No more sneaking around. No more chances.

So every moment with her has to be stolen. Every touch, every kiss, every second you get together—it’s always in secret. You can’t meet up at cafes or go on dates like a normal couple. You can’t hold her hand in public without looking over your shoulder. Every plan has to be airtight. Every risk calculated.

But tonight? Tonight, you don’t have to worry about any of that.

The second your parents left—bags packed, off to rekindle their love or whatever the hell couples do on their anniversary—you grabbed your phone and sent the text: All clear.

And now she's at your door. And fuck...

She looks like temptation itself wrapped in casual clothes.

She’s wearing a loose sweatshirt—oversized and comfortable—draped over those thick, juicy thighs of hers, and a pair of tiny shorts that barely peek out from beneath the hem. Her legs are smooth, soft, always irresistible, and when she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, the way her thighs press together has your throat tightening. Her chest strains the fabric of the sweatshirt, her curves impossible to ignore, but it’s her face that always gets you—the delicate doll-like features, the plump lips you could kiss forever, the big, expressive eyes that go from playful to needy in the blink of a eye.

“You’re staring.” She tilts her head, smirking.

“Because you’re hot,” you shoot back, grabbing her wrist and pulling her inside before the neighbors get a show they didn’t pay for.

She giggles, pressing up against you, arms winding around your neck as she buries her face in your chest. The warmth of her body seeps through your clothes, and you let your hands roam down, settling on her waist, pulling her even closer.

“I missed you,” she murmurs.

“You saw me two days ago.”

She pouts, smacking your chest lightly. “Two days is a long time.”

Yeah. You get it. Two days without her feels like forever.

You guide her to the couch, the plan already set. Snacks, movies, then sex—simple, predictable, perfect. A few hours to pretend you’re a normal couple, not two people sneaking around behind the backs of parents who think they know best.

You settle in, Karina curling up against you, her head on your chest while you scroll through movie options. You let her pick—she always wants rom-coms, but you don’t care what’s on the screen when she’s curled up against you like this, warm and soft, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your stomach.

She picks something sappy, some over-the-top romance where the leads fall in love in the span of two days and confess their feelings in the pouring rain. You don’t pay much attention. You’re too busy watching her.

She gets so into it, reacting to every emotional beat like it’s happening to her. She laughs at the stupid jokes, gasps at the dramatic reveals, clutches your hand when things get intense. And when the couple finally kisses, she turns her face up to you expectantly, eyes wide, lips slightly parted.

You take the hint.

The kiss is slow at first, soft and teasing. Her lips are warm, familiar, addictive. You kiss her again, deeper this time, hand sliding up under her sweatshirt, fingers skimming over the smooth skin of her waist. She shivers, pressing closer, her fingers tightening in your shirt.

“Mmm… I love kissing you,” she breathes, pulling back just enough to look at you.

“You love a lot of things about me.”

She giggles, poking your side. “Cocky.”

“Accurate.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue, instead shifting to straddle your lap, the movie completely forgotten. Her fingers slide into your hair, her body pressing against yours, soft in all the best ways. Your hands find her hips, gripping, squeezing, mapping out every curve like you haven’t already memorized them a thousand times over.

“You’re insatiable,” you murmur against her lips.

She grins. “You like it.”

Yeah. You do. You like everything about her.

“So, you told them you were studying, huh?” You glance down at her, smirking as your fingers tease at the hem of her sweatshirt, tracing idle patterns on her bare thigh.

Karina hums, her lips brushing against your jaw. “Mhm. Told them I was staying at Giselle’s place for a study session.”

You snort. “Not entirely a lie.” You let your hands slip lower, grabbing two handfuls of that perfect, thick ass, squeezing just enough to make her squeak. “We’re gonna study some anatomy.”

She giggles, pressing closer. “You’re so dumb.”

“But you love it.”

She just smiles, tilting her head, and that look—soft, adoring, almost too much—hits you harder than expected. Then, quieter, she says, “You know, I think this whole ‘no dating’ rule is backfiring.”

You raise a brow. “Oh yeah?”

She shifts, hands playing with the collar of your shirt. “They want me to focus on college, right? But when I’m away from you, I can’t concentrate on anything.” Her voice drops slightly, a confession slipping through. “All I think about is you.”

That lands differently. Not teasing, not playful—just honest. And it knocks the breath right out of you.

You don’t answer with words. You don’t have to. You cup her jaw, tilt her chin up, and kiss her, slow and deep. She melts against you, her fingers curling into your shirt, a little hum escaping into your mouth.

When you pull back, she blinks up at you, lips kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed. “Can we go to your room?”

You know what she means.

You stand without hesitation, sliding your hands under her thighs and lifting her off the couch with ease. She yelps, wrapping her arms around your neck, legs locking around your waist.

“Show-off,” she huffs, but she’s grinning.

“You love that too,” you murmur against her temple, carrying her through the dimly lit hallway.

She presses her face into your neck, exhaling softly. “I missed your bed.”

You push the door open with your shoulder. “You just missed getting wrecked in it.”

She laughs, biting your shoulder in retaliation, and the sound is so sweet, so familiar, that your chest tightens with something deeper than just desire.

You lower her onto the mattress, and she gazes up at you, eyes heavy-lidded, pupils wide. And just like that, the night really begins.

Your shirt hits the floor first, followed by hers. The fabric slides off her smooth shoulders, pooling at her feet. The dim light from your bedside lamp casts soft shadows on her skin, highlighting every curve, every dip, every inch of her you’ve memorized by heart.

Your hands work on your jeans, popping the button, dragging the zipper down slow. She follows your lead, slipping her shorts down those thick thighs of hers, the motion teasing, unintentional or not.

By the time you’re both left in just your underwear, she finally glances down—and that’s when she sees it.

The bulge in your briefs is obvious, straining against the fabric, and her reaction is instant. Her lips part slightly, eyes darkening with unmistakable hunger, the kind that makes your blood run hot. Her thighs press together on instinct, like she’s already feeling that telltale ache, already impatient.

“You’re excited,” you tease, watching her reaction.

She doesn’t even pretend otherwise. Instead, she bites her lip, stepping closer, fingertips barely grazing your stomach. “Can you blame me?”

You chuckle, reaching for her waist, pulling her in. “I was missing your taste.”

The words land exactly how you expect. Her breath stutters, her grip on your skin tightening. Her eyes flicker up to yours, something unspoken passing between you before her hands move again—this time to her back, fingers finding the clasp of her bra.

You watch, completely enraptured, as she unhooks it with practiced ease. But instead of letting it fall right away, she holds it in place, eyes darting toward the open door.

“…Lock it,” she murmurs.

You raise a brow, amused. “Babe, you can relax. No one’s showing up. My parents are miles away by now.”

She hesitates, glancing at the door again. “Just in case.”

You sigh, but you don’t argue.

You move, crossing the room in a few strides, twisting the lock into place. The soft click is barely noticeable, but it seems to be all the reassurance she needs.

Because when you turn back around, her bra is gone. And fuck—

Her massive tits are right there, bare and perfect, skin smooth, curves soft, nipples already slightly stiff from the cool air. She’s standing there, completely confident now, watching you watch her. And she likes it.

Your throat feels dry. Your cock throbs.

Yeah. This night is only getting better.

Your body moves before your brain even catches up. One second you’re standing there, staring like a idiot at her perfect, heavy tits, and the next, you’re on her.

Your hands find her waist first, gripping, pulling her in as your mouth crashes against hers. It’s messy, eager, all lips and tongue, the heat between you flaring instantly. She gasps against your mouth, but she doesn’t hesitate to kiss back, fingers threading into your hair, tugging just enough to make you groan.

You walk her backward, guiding her toward the bed without breaking the kiss. The back of her legs hit the mattress, and you don’t give her time to think before easing her down, following her, pressing your weight against her soft, warm body.

Your hands roam without direction, purely instinctual—her waist, her hips, the smooth dip of her stomach. But when your fingers finally reach her chest, when you finally cup one of those gorgeous, heavy tits in your palm, it’s like something inside you ignites.

She sighs at the contact, arching into your touch like she’s been waiting for it. And she’s so soft.

You squeeze, fingers flexing, feeling the perfect weight of her in your palm. Your thumb brushes over a stiffening nipple, and the reaction is instant—her breath hitches, her body tenses for just a second before she relaxes into it, lips parting in a quiet whimper.

Your mouth finds her neck next, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat. She tilts her head to the side, giving you more access, more skin to taste, more of her to claim. You take full advantage, biting, sucking, marking.

Sliding down, you move lower, kissing your way down her collarbone, her sternum, until your lips finally meet soft, bare skin.

Your mouth latches onto one of her perfect tits, tongue swirling around the stiff peak before sucking hard.

She shudders. Her fingers clutch at your hair, thighs squeezing together, a gasp slipping from her lips that sounds more like a plea than anything else. “Oh my God…”

Your other hand isn’t idle. While your tongue works on one breast, your fingers knead the other, squeezing, teasing, rolling her nipple between your fingertips. She’s a mess beneath you, breathing hard, squirming, already slipping into that space where all she can focus on is you and how good you’re making her feel.

You suck harder, teeth grazing just enough to make her gasp.

She moans outright this time, thighs shifting restlessly beneath you, back arching slightly, offering herself up like she needs more, like she can’t get enough. Neither can you.

Your mouth stays latched onto her breast, tongue swirling, lips sucking, taking in the warmth and softness of her. Her skin tastes faintly sweet, her body heat rising under your touch. Every time your tongue flicks over her nipple, she makes the prettiest little sound—half moan, half whimper. Her fingers stay tangled in your hair, clutching, pulling you closer like she never wants you to stop.

And fuck, you don’t want to stop.

You shift slightly, settling more comfortably between her legs, your body pressed against hers. Your free hand kneads her other breast, fingers rolling her nipple between them, squeezing just right. The way she reacts—hips twitching, thighs pressing against your sides—has your cock throbbing, the heat pooling in your gut growing unbearable.

“Shit,” she breathes out, voice trembling, her back arching into your mouth. “You’re so—fuck, you’re so good at that.”

You smirk against her skin, biting down gently before soothing the mark with your tongue. “I know.”

She lets out a breathy laugh, but it dissolves into a moan when you suck harder, drawing more of her into your mouth. Her legs shift again, thighs clenching like she’s desperate for friction. And then—

Her hand moves.

Between the two of you, slipping down, fingers tracing along your stomach, your abs, then lower, until—fuck.

She palms your cock over your underwear, her fingers pressing against the fabric, feeling just how hard you already are for her. Your whole body reacts—hips jerking slightly, a sharp inhale through your teeth as the pleasure spikes instantly.

“Rina,” you groan, voice low, strained.

She giggles, breathy and teasing. “Mmm, you’re so hard already.” Her fingers press down more, rubbing up and down your length through the fabric, the teasing touch enough to make your head spin. “Is this for me?”

��Who the fuck else would it be for?” You can barely get the words out, already losing yourself in the way she’s touching you.

She hums in satisfaction, her hand moving slower, deliberately teasing, driving you insane. “You missed me that much?”

You lift your head from her chest, meeting her gaze. Her lips are parted, her cheeks flushed, her eyes dark with heat. She knows exactly what she’s doing to you, and she’s enjoying every second of it.

“You have no idea,” you murmur.

Her fingers slip beneath the waistband of your underwear, just barely brushing against bare skin, and you curse under your breath.

She leans in, lips ghosting against your ear as she whispers, “I want you to fuck me hard tonight.”

Your whole body tenses. A fresh wave of arousal crashes through you, burning, consuming, making your cock twitch in her hand.

You grip her hips, fingers digging in, your self-control hanging by a thread. “You keep talking like that, and I won’t be able to hold back.”

Her breath is warm against your skin. “Good. I don’t want you to.”

Your hands move without hesitation, sliding down her body, fingertips grazing over her hips before hooking into the waistband of her panties. You tug them down, slowly, savoring the way the thin fabric peels away from her skin, the way her breath hitches as she lifts her hips just enough to help you. And then—fuck.

Her pussy is already glistening, slick coating her soft folds, her arousal shining under the dim light of your room. She’s so wet, so ready, all because of you.

Your cock twitches in response, straining against the last barrier between you. But you don’t rush. No, you take a moment, drinking in the sight of her, the flushed skin, the way her thighs clench slightly, the way she bites her lip as she watches you take her in.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until she leans in, fingers sliding under the waistband of your underwear, her touch feather-light, teasing. “These need to come off too.”

You don’t argue. You lift your hips, dragging your underwear down, letting your cock spring free. The relief is instant, the cool air hitting your heated skin, but that’s nothing compared to the way Karina looks at you—eyes dropping to your length, pupils dilating, breath catching in her throat. She swallows, shifting slightly, and you don’t miss the way her thighs squeeze together again.

“Fuck,” she whispers, almost to herself. “I missed this.”

You smirk, reaching for her, pulling her close again as you murmur against her lips, “Then stop wasting time.”

She giggles, but it’s cut off as your lips meet again, the kiss deep, heated, consuming. Your hands roam her body, tracing every familiar curve, every inch of her you’ve memorized. She shifts, adjusting, her knees pressing into the mattress on either side of your hips as she straddles you, her bare skin flush against yours. The warmth of her, the heat radiating from between her legs, has your pulse skyrocketing.

She moves, grinding down slightly, and the feeling of her wetness sliding against your cock has you both gasping into the kiss.

You grip her hips, steadying her, voice rough with need. “Fuck, Karina—”

She just smiles, breathless, adjusting her position, lifting herself slightly. You feel the slick head of your cock brush against her entrance, teasing, her arousal smearing over you. And then, slowly, deliberately, she begins to sink down onto you.

She sinks down slowly at first, her body stretching to accommodate you, the slick heat of her pussy gripping you tightly. Her breath hitches, and her nails dig into your shoulders, a sharp contrast to the soft moan that spills from her lips. You watch, mesmerized, as her eyes flutter shut for a moment, her mouth falling open slightly, taking in the fullness, the delicious stretch as she settles onto you completely.

“Fuck,” she breathes, rolling her hips experimentally, adjusting to the way you fill her. “You feel so good.”

Your fingers tighten on her hips, barely holding back the urge to thrust up into her, to take control, to fuck her hard just like she asked. But this moment—her, on top of you, in complete control—it’s intoxicating.

She braces herself, palms pressed against your chest as she lifts her hips, just enough to leave you aching for more before she slides back down. The movement is slow, deliberate, teasing.

“God, I missed this,” she murmurs, rolling her hips again, sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through both of you.

Your hands move on instinct, tracing the curve of her waist before sliding up, fingers closing around her bouncing tits. They’re so fucking perfect—full, soft, warm under your touch. You squeeze, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples, and the reaction is immediate.

She moans, head tilting back slightly, a shiver running down her spine. “Fuck, baby—”

The way she says it, all breathless and needy, makes your restraint snap. You thrust up into her, meeting her movements, drawing a sharp gasp from her throat. Her pace quickens. She moves faster now, riding you with more urgency, her big tits bouncing with every motion. The wet sound of her slick pussy taking you in again and again fills the room, mixing with her moans, with your own ragged breaths.

“You have no idea,” she gasps between movements, hands gripping your chest for support. “No idea how much I think about this when I’m not with you. How much I want you.”

Your fingers dig into her waist, guiding her movements, pushing her down harder, deeper. “Tell me,” you demand, voice rough with need.

She whimpers, her rhythm faltering for a moment as another sharp wave of pleasure hits her. “I—I touch myself thinking about you,” she confesses, cheeks flushed, body trembling. “Late at night, when I can’t sleep—when I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it—” That does something to you. The thought of her alone, needy, fingers buried between her legs as she thought about this, about you—fuck.

You sit up abruptly, wrapping your arms around her, pressing her flush against you. Her breath stutters, but she doesn’t stop moving. If anything, she moves harder, faster, chasing that high, her body trembling in your arms.

You kiss her, swallowing her moans, pouring every ounce of want, of love, into it. She melts into you, gripping the back of your neck, holding on as she keeps moving, her body grinding against yours in a unrelenting rhythm, her wet heat squeezing around your cock with every bounce. Her tits jiggle with every motion, perfect and soft, her nipples flushed and stiff, her skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. She’s breathtaking like this—completely lost in it, moaning freely, her lips parted as she gasps for air.

“You make me so fucking horny,” she breathes, rolling her hips in a way that makes you groan. “Every time I see you, every time I even think about you—I get wet. So fucking wet.”

Your grip on her waist tightens, fingers pressing into her soft skin. Fuck. She knows exactly what she’s doing to you, the way her words hit just as hard as the way she moves.

Your self-control is slipping, your body burning with need, the hunger growing unbearable. You let her ride you a little longer, soaking in the way she moves, the way her pussy clenches around you, so hot and tight, but the pressure in your gut is reaching its peak. You need more. You need to take her.

Without warning, you grab her and flip her onto her back. She lets out a surprised gasp, her hair splaying across the pillow, eyes wide with excitement. You barely give her a second to react before you’re between her legs, spreading her open, positioning yourself over her.

“Fuck,” she whimpers, her thighs twitching as you grip them.

You hook your hands under her knees, lifting her legs, pressing them back slightly to open her up even more. She looks so fucking good like this, spread out beneath you, completely at your mercy, her glistening pussy aching for you.

And you don’t make her wait. You thrust into her, hard. Her back arches instantly, a cry tearing from her throat, her hands gripping the sheets.

“Yes—fuck, yes—”

You set a brutal pace, your hips snapping against hers, the wet sound of skin meeting skin filling the room. Every thrust makes her body jolt, her tits bouncing, her breath coming in desperate, broken moans.

“You love it like this,” you growl, voice thick with lust.

“Yes—god, yes—” she gasps, her nails dragging down your arms.

You grip her thighs tighter, holding her steady, driving into her with deep, relentless strokes. Her walls squeeze around you, clenching tighter every time you hit that perfect spot inside her, every time your cock stretches her in just the right way. She’s completely unraveling beneath you. Her head tilts back, her mouth open, moans spilling out without restraint.

“More,” she whimpers, voice trembling. “Please—don’t stop—”

You don’t. You keep fucking her, hips slamming against hers, the wet slap of your bodies filling the room. Every thrust drives her further into the mattress, her back arching, her tits bouncing in perfect rhythm.

And fuck—you can’t take your eyes off them. They’re so full, so soft, moving with every thrust, flushed from arousal. Your hands itch to grab them, to squeeze them, to claim every inch of her body as yours. But before you can, Karina beats you to it.

She moans, her head tilting back, and then—

Her hands slide up her own body, fingers gliding over her stomach before she cups her own tits, squeezing. Your cock twitches inside her.

“Fuck,” you groan, gripping her thighs tighter, your pace stuttering for half a second.

She whimpers at your reaction, pushing her tits together, rolling her thumbs over her stiff nipples. “You like that?” she teases breathlessly, though her voice shakes from how hard you’re fucking her.

“You know I do,” you growl, thrusting into her deeper, making her gasp.

She moans louder, fingers pinching her own nipples, her pussy clenching around you. “I love how you look at me,” she admits, voice trembling. “Like you wanna ruin me.”

“I do.” Your thrusts turn rougher, harder. “And I will.”

She gasps, her back arching, her grip on her own tits tightening as pleasure surges through her. Her thighs tremble, her moans turning into breathless cries.

You keep thrusting, faster, savoring the way her pussy grips you, hot and wet and perfect. But you want more. You want to see her completely fall apart.

Your hand slides down her body, fingers trailing over her stomach, her hips, until you reach where you’re connected. She whines, her thighs tensing as your fingers brush against her clit. You know how sensitive she is there, how just the slightest touch can send her spiraling.

“Fuck, baby,” she whimpers, her voice shaky, her hands still on her tits. “Don’t—don’t tease me.”

You smirk, your fingers circling her clit, slow and deliberate. “Who’s teasing?” you murmur, watching her face as her breath hitches. “I’m just giving you what you want.”

She moans, her back arching off the bed, her hips grinding against your hand. “You’re such a asshole,” she breathes, but there’s no bite to it. Her eyes are half-lidded, her lips swollen from biting them, and she’s so fucking beautiful like this.

You press harder, your fingers moving faster, and she lets out a sharp cry, her hands finally leaving her tits to grip the sheets instead. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” she chants, her thighs trembling, her pussy clenching around you. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop—”

You don’t. You keep rubbing her clit, your thrusts steady, your cock hitting that spot inside her that makes her see stars. She’s writhing beneath you, her moans getting louder, more desperate, and you know she’s close. But you’re not letting her cum yet. Not yet.

“You’re so fucking wet,” you growl, your voice rough with need. “You love this, don’t you? Love me fucking you like this?”

She nods frantically, her nails digging into the sheets. “Yes, yes, I love it—fuck, I love you—”

Her words hit you like a punch to the chest, and for a second, you lose your rhythm. But you recover quickly, leaning down to capture her lips in a messy, desperate kiss. She kisses you back just as hard, her tongue sliding against yours, her moans muffled against your mouth.

When you pull back, she’s panting, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed. “I mean it,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

And you kiss her again, your hand still working her clit, your cock still buried deep inside her. She moans into your mouth, her hips rocking against you, and you know she’s close.

Because you can feel it—the tension in her body, the way her pussy clenches around you, the way her breath hitches every time your fingers brush her clit. So fucking close. And you’re not holding back anymore.

You slam into her, hard and fast, your hips snapping against hers, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. Your fingers work her clit in tight, quick circles, and she lets out a strangled cry, her back arching off the bed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” she babbles, her hands clawing at the sheets, her thighs trembling. “I can’t—I’m gonna—oh my God, I’m gonna—”

“Cum for me, baby,” you growl, your voice low and rough, your own breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “Cum all over my cock. Let me feel it.”

She whimpers, her eyes squeezing shut, her body tensing like a coiled spring. And then—fuck. She explodes.

Her pussy clenches around you, tight and wet, and she lets out a scream that’s half pleasure, half desperation. Her hips buck against yours, her thighs shaking, and then—fuck—she squirts. Hard.

It’s messy. So fucking messy. Her juices gush out, soaking the sheets beneath her, and you don’t stop. You keep fucking her, your cock driving into her as she trembles and writhes, her body convulsing with wave after wave of pleasure.

“Oh my God, oh my God—” she gasps, her voice breaking, her hands flying to her face like she’s trying to hide from the intensity of it. “I can’t—I can’t stop—fuck, it’s too much—”

But you don’t stop. You can’t. You’re too far gone, too lost in the way she feels around you, the way she’s falling apart beneath you. You keep thrusting, your fingers still working her clit, and she lets out another scream, her body jerking as another gush of wetness spills out of her.

“That’s it, baby,” you murmur, your voice strained, your own pleasure building. “Let it all out. Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect.”

She’s a mess—her hair sticking to her forehead, her skin slick with sweat, her body trembling like a leaf in the wind. But she’s beautiful. So fucking beautiful. And you can’t get enough of her.

You lean down, pressing your forehead against hers, your breath mingling with hers as you keep fucking her through her orgasm. Her hands find your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin, and she lets out a broken sob, her body still shaking.

“I can’t—I can’t—” she whimpers, her voice a whisper now, her eyes rolling back in her head. “It’s too much—fuck, it’s too much—”

But you don’t stop. You can’t. You’re too close, too desperate, too lost in her. You keep thrusting, your cock hitting that spot inside her that makes her see stars, and she lets out another cry, her pussy clenching around you again.

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, your voice rough, your hips stuttering. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

She nods frantically, her hands sliding down to grip your hips, pulling you deeper. “Yes, yes—fuck, cum in me—please—”

Her words are all it takes. You slam into her one last time, your cock pulsing as you spill your hot cum inside her, your own orgasm crashing over you like a wave. She lets out a soft moan, her body still trembling, her pussy milking every last drop out of you.

You collapse on top of her, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your heart pounding in your chest. She wraps her arms around you, pulling you close, her face buried in your neck.

“Fuck,” she whispers, her voice shaky, her body still trembling. “That was… fuck.”

You chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah. It was.”

She lets out a soft laugh. “You’re gonna have to buy new sheets.”

You glance down at the mess beneath you—the soaked sheets, the puddle of her cum, the way her body is still twitching with aftershocks—and you can’t help but grin. “Worth it.”

She giggles, her cheeks flushing, and she buries her face in your chest. “You’re such a asshole.”

“But you love me,” you tease, your fingers brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

She looks up at you, her eyes soft, her lips curving into a smile. “Yeah. I do.”

You kiss her, slow and deep, your body still tangled with hers. Her skin is damp, her breath still unsteady, and she’s curled up against you like she never wants to move again. And fuck—you were about to go again, your cock still achingly hard, pressing against her thigh, ready to slide right back inside her. But then—

The front door opens.

Shit.

Every muscle in your body locks up, and you feel Karina freeze against you, her breath catching in her throat. The sound of footsteps echoes down the hall—your parents. You can tell from the weight of their steps, the familiarity of it.

You were supposed to have the whole damn weekend. Why the fuck are they back?

Karina grabs your arm, eyes wide with panic. “Oh my god,” she whispers, voice barely audible. “What do we do?”

You don’t know. Your brain is still struggling to shift gears, still stuck on the feeling of her wet, trembling body under you. But there’s no time to think, no time to even process what’s happening.

Your eyes dart around the room, searching for somewhere—anywhere—for her to hide. Under the bed? No way, there’s barely any space. Closet? Not a option—too full of shit.

Fuck.

You hear them getting closer, the sound of their voices, their footsteps nearing your door. There’s no time.

“Stay in bed,” you hiss, grabbing the blankets and yanking them over her, covering her completely. “Don’t move, don’t make a sound.”

Karina barely has time to nod before you’re scrambling out of bed, snatching up your underwear and pulling them on with the kind of frantic desperation you never thought you’d experience. Your cock is still half-hard, sticky with Karina’s arousal, but you ignore it, yanking your pants up just as the doorknob rattles.

Locked.

Thank fuck.

You take a deep breath, running a hand through your messy hair, trying to look even remotely normal before reaching for the lock. Your heart is pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears.

You turn the knob, pulling the door open just enough to see them standing there.

Your mom frowns slightly. “Why was the door locked?”

Your dad crosses his arms, eyeing you suspiciously. “And why do you look like you just ran a marathon?”

Shit. Think. Think.

You force a laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Uh—just, uh, napping. Didn’t want to be disturbed.”

Your mom sighs. “Well, sorry to wake you, but we had to come back early.”

Your stomach twists. “Why?”

Your dad shakes his head. “Long story. We’ll tell you in the kitchen. Come on.”

You nod quickly, trying to seem casual. “Yeah—yeah, sure, just, uh, give me a sec.”

They turn, heading back down the hall, and you shut the door, locking it again immediately before turning back to the bed.

Karina peeks out from under the blankets, her big, worried eyes searching your face. She’s still breathing fast, her body still flushed from everything you’d been doing just minutes ago, but now all that heat is mixed with anxiety. The sound of your parents’ voices in the hall makes it worse.

“What the fuck do we do now?” she whispers.

“We wait,” you whisper back, crouching beside the bed. “Once they go to sleep, you can slip out quietly.”

She bites her lip, nodding slowly, but she doesn’t look convinced. “What if they don’t sleep for hours?”

“They will,” you reassure her, even though you’re not entirely sure yourself. “They look exhausted.”

She exhales sharply, still frustrated. “This night was supposed to be perfect.”

“I know,” you murmur, guilt creeping into your voice. You reach for her hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry, baby. I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

She holds onto your fingers for a moment, her grip tight. Then, reluctantly, she nods. “You better.”

“I will,” you promise.

You give her one last look before forcing yourself to turn away, straightening your clothes and running a hand through your hair to make yourself look as normal as possible. Then, with one deep breath, you slip out of your room and head to the living room.

Your parents are already sitting down, looking exhausted, their bags by the door. Your mother glances up as you enter, and immediately, her eyes narrow.

“Why are there two cups in the sink?” she asks. “And why are there so many eaten snacks on the table?”

Fuck, you forgot to clean up. The couch is still a mess from when you and Karina were cuddling, empty snack wrappers scattered on the coffee table, two mugs sitting in the sink like a accusation.

Think. Think.

“I, uh—I had a friend over earlier,” you say quickly, trying to sound casual. “Just, you know, hanging out.”

Your dad rubs his face, sighing. “Who?”

You shrug. “Just a friend. We watched a movie, had some snacks. That’s it.”

Your mother doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she doesn’t push it—at least, not yet.

“Why’d you guys come back early?” you ask, desperate to change the subject.

Your dad exhales, looking annoyed. “The hotel had plumbing issues. Water started leaking in our bathroom. They couldn’t move us to another room because they were fully booked.”

Your mother shakes her head. “We figured it wasn’t worth dealing with all that for a weekend trip, so we decided to just drive back.”

Lucky fucking you.

You nod slowly, trying to act sympathetic while also praying that Karina doesn’t make a noise in the other room.

Your mom sighs, leaning back into the couch. “And honestly, I just want to shower and go to bed. This whole thing has been exhausting.”

Good. Sleep. That’s what you need.

But then—

She suddenly sniffs the air, her brows furrowing.

“What’s that smell?” she asks.

Your heart nearly stops.

“…What smell?” you ask, forcing your voice to stay steady.

My mom looks around, sniffing again. “It smells like perfume.”

Fuck. Karina.

Her scent is all over you. All over your sheets, your skin, probably the entire damn room. And your mom is picking up on it.

Your father frowns slightly. “Perfume?”

Your mom nods. “Yes, it’s faint, but it’s there. It doesn’t smell like anything I own.”

You scramble for a excuse. “Uh—maybe it’s my new deodorant or something?”

Your mom gives you a suspicious look but doesn’t argue. “Maybe,” she mutters.

You need to get out of here. Now.

“Anyway,” you say quickly, stretching your arms. “I’m gonna head back to my room. Long day. You guys should get some rest too.”

Your parents exchange glances, but they’re too tired to question you further.

As soon as you’re in the hallway, you move quickly, slipping back into your room and locking the door behind you.

Karina is still under the covers, staring at you with wide eyes.

“What happened?” she whispers.

You sigh, rubbing your face. “They almost smelled you.”

She blinks. Then, her lips twitch in amusement. “You mean my perfume?”

“Yes, your perfume,” you hiss. “Now we just need to wait for them to fall asleep, and then you can leave.”

She exhales softly, nodding. “Alright. But you owe me a better night than this.”

“I know,” you murmur.

You sit side by side, both of you still quiet, still listening for any sign of movement from the rest of the house. Karina is curled up close to you, her skin warm against yours, her breath slow but not entirely steady. Every now and then, her fingers twitch against your thigh, like she’s thinking about something…

“I wanna fuck again.”

You blink, turning to look at her, suspicious. “Karina—” But she’s already shifting, already climbing onto your lap, her bare skin pressing against you, her thighs straddling yours. She’s still completely naked, her tits right in front of your face, her pussy just barely grazing over your still-hard cock.

You inhale sharply, gripping her waist. “Babe. No.”

She leans in, brushing her lips over yours, teasing, playful. “Why not?”

“Because,” you murmur, barely restraining yourself. “It’s too risky.” She doesn’t care. She kisses you fully this time, her tongue flicking out, hot and wet and fucking intoxicating. Her hands slide over your chest, nails dragging lightly over your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“Still horny,” she breathes against your lips. “I need you again.”

You groan, trying to keep some semblance of self-control. “Karina, we—” She reaches down between your bodies, fingers wrapping around your cock through your pants.

And fuck—all logical thought leaves your brain.

She strokes you slowly, deliberately, and when she speaks again, her voice is soft but firm. “I know you’re horny too.”

She’s right. Fuck, she’s right. You’ve been hard this entire time, your body still aching for another release. And with her like this, naked, pressing against you, her lips grazing your jaw—it’s too much.

She gasps as you grab her suddenly, your hands firm on her waist as you lift her off your lap. You react quickly, shoving your pants and underwear down, freeing your cock. You move her to the bed, laying her on her side, pressing in close behind her. She doesn’t resist. She lets you move her, mold her, her breath coming out in soft little pants as she waits for you. You push her leg up slightly, opening her just enough. And then you slide inside.

The heat of her, the slick, tight grip of her pussy around you—it’s fucking bliss. She moans, her back arching slightly, her fingers curling into the sheets. “Fuck—” she gasps, her body shuddering at the stretch. You kiss her neck, your hand gripping the soft flesh of her waist, holding her steady as you push deeper, filling her completely.

She whimpers, pressing back against you. “God, you feel so good—” You start moving, slow at first, savoring every inch of her, feeling the way her body reacts to every thrust. Her pussy clenches around you, her breath coming in sharp little gasps, her back arching with every stroke.

She’s perfect like this—soft and warm in your arms, her body completely yours. Your hips snap forward, her ass grinds against you with every thrust, her soft thighs trembling as you hold her leg hooked over your arm. Your hands slide up her body, fingers digging into the meat of her tits, squeezing hard enough to make her gasp.

“Fuck—fuck—” she whines, her voice cracking as you hit that spot deep inside her. Her head tilts back against your shoulder, lips parted, breath hitching. “Don’t—don’t stop, please—”

You don’t. The wet slap of your hips against her ass fills the room, louder than you’d like, but there’s no hiding it now. Not with how her pussy grips you, hot and slick, fluttering every time you bottom out. Her tits spill through your fingers, nipples stiff and begging for attention, and you pinch one hard, twisting just enough to make her yelp.

She claps a hand over her mouth too late, the sound muffled but still sharp. Her eyes dart to the door, wide and panicked, but her body betrays her—hips rocking back to meet your thrusts, greedy, needy. “Quiet, baby,” you growl into her ear, your free hand sliding down to her clit, fingers rubbing rough circles. “You wanna get us caught?”

She shakes her head frantically, sweat-damp hair sticking to her forehead, but her pussy clenches around you anyway, like her body’s laughing at the idea of staying silent. Her thighs quiver, her toes curling into the sheets as you fuck her harder, deeper, your cock stretching her in ways that make her whimper.

“I can’t—I can’t—” she whines, voice breaking as you grind into her, your thumb pressing harder on her clit. “It’s too much—you’re too much—” You bite her shoulder, teeth sinking into soft skin, and she jerks against you, a choked moan escaping her throat. The bed creaks dangerously beneath you, the headboard tapping the wall in a rhythm that’s way too obvious. But stopping isn’t a option—not when she’s this wet, this desperate, her juices dripping down your cock, soaking the sheets beneath her.

Her hand claws at your thigh, nails biting into your skin as you drive into her. “Slower—please—” she begs, but her hips keep rolling, grinding back against you like she’s chasing her own ruin.

“You don’t mean that,” you mutter, gripping her hip tighter, angling your thrusts to hit that spongy spot inside her. She chokes on a sob, her back arching, tits heaving as her breath comes in ragged gasps.

The room smells like sex—sweat, her perfume, the musk of her arousal clinging to every surface. Her legs tremble, her thighs slick where they press against yours, and you can feel her teetering on the edge, that tight coil in her gut winding tighter with every snap of your hips.

“Gonna cum?” you taunt, your voice low, rough. Your fingers leave her clit, sliding down to grip her thigh instead, spreading her wider. “Go ahead. Cum for me.”

She shakes her head, tears pooling in her eyes from the effort of holding back. “No—no—I can’t—”

But her body doesn’t care. Her thighs clamp around your hips as you thrust into her, her nails digging into your shoulders hard enough to leave marks. Her head is thrown back, lips parted in silent gasps, her tits bouncing with every snap of your hips. You lean down, mouth latching onto her neck, sucking bruises into her skin while your fingers find her clit again—swollen, hypersensitive, begging for more.

“Fuck,” she hisses, her hips jerking off the bed, her pussy clenching around you like a vise. “Too much—too much—”

You don’t let up. Her body’s trembling, her thighs slick with sweat and her own arousal, and the wet slap of your skin against hers is loud enough to wake the dead. She’s close—so fucking close—her breath hitching every time your cock drags over that spot inside her.

That’s when the knock comes.

Three sharp raps on the door.

Karina freezes beneath you, her eyes snapping open, wide and panicked. You stop mid-thrust, your cock buried deep, both of you holding your breath.

“Everything okay in there?” your mom calls through the door. “I heard… noises.”

Karina’s hand flies to her mouth, her chest heaving. You swallow hard, forcing your voice steady. “Noises?”

“Yeah. Like… thumping.”

You glance down at Karina. Her face is flushed, her lips bitten raw, her tits glistening with sweat. The bed creaks as you shift slightly, and she clenches around you, her thighs shaking.

“Uh—probably the neighbor’s cat,” you say, voice strained. “They got a new one. Thing’s a maniac.”

Silence. Then: “…The cat?”

“Yep.” You grit your teeth as Karina’s hips twitch, her pussy fluttering around you. “Big fucker. Keeps jumping on the roof.”

Another pause. Karina’s fingers dig into your biceps, her body trembling with the effort of staying still.

“…Alright,” your mom says finally. “Well, keep it down. We’re trying to sleep.”

“Sure,” you choke out.

Her footsteps fade down the hall.

Karina lets out a shaky breath, her head dropping back against the pillow. “Oh my God—”

You don’t give her time to recover. You start moving again, slow, deep thrusts that make her eyes roll back. “Should’ve stayed quiet, baby,” you murmur, thumb circling her clit.

She whimpers, her hand flying back to her mouth as her hips buck. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum—”

“Then cum,” you growl, fucking her harder, the bedframe knocking against the wall again. “Let me feel it.”

She shakes her head frantically, tears spilling over as she grabs a pillow, shoving it against her face. Her scream is muffled, her body bowing off the bed as her orgasm tears through her. Her pussy gushes, soaking the sheets beneath her, her thighs trembling violently as she squirts again, the wetness dripping down your balls.

“Fuck,” you groan, your thrusts turning erratic. Her walls keep milking you, spasming relentlessly, and you’re so close—

You pull out abruptly, earning a broken whine from Karina. She reaches for you, but you’re already climbing over her, your cock in your fist, stroking hard and fast.

“Look at me,” you rasp.

Her eyes flutter open, hazy with pleasure, her lips parted. You fist your cock, your release building.

“Cum on me,” she whispers, hands sliding up to squeeze her own tits, presenting them to you.

That’s all it takes. You groan, your hips jerking as you spill over her, stripes of white cum painting her skin. She gasps, her back arching, her fingers brushing through the mess, smearing it over her nipples.

“Fuck,” she breathes, staring up at you.

You collapse beside her, chest heaving, your cock still twitching in your hand. Without a word, you guide the tip to her lips. She opens her mouth obediently, tongue swirling around the head, cleaning you off with soft, lazy sucks.

“Good girl,” you murmur, running your fingers through her hair.

She hums around you, her eyes fluttering shut, her body still trembling with aftershocks. The room reeks of sex—sweat, cum, the sharp tang of her arousal soaked into the sheets. The headboard’s left a dent in the wall, and the pillow Karina bit into has a tear in the fabric.

Footsteps pass by the door again, slower this time.

Karina freezes, your cock slipping from her lips. “Shit—”

You clamp a hand over her mouth, listening. The footsteps pause. Then continue.

She lets out a shaky breath when they fade, her body slumping against yours. “We’re gonna die,” she whispers.

You snort, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Worth it.”

She swats your chest but doesn’t argue. Outside, the faint sound of the TV clicks on—your parents, still awake.

Karina’s eyes drift shut, her breathing slowing. You stare at the ceiling, the adrenaline fading, leaving you exhausted.

—

The rest of the night passes in a strange, almost frustrating silence. The rush, the thrill, the desperate need you and Karina had for each other has finally burned itself out, leaving only the quiet aftermath.

She’s curled up against you, completely spent, her hair still damp from sweat, her skin warm under the sheets. You can feel her steady breathing, her chest rising and falling slowly. Every now and then, her fingers twitch against your stomach, absentmindedly tracing patterns, but she doesn’t say much. Then—

“I’m hungry,” she murmurs, her voice soft and a little sleepy.

You sigh, stretching slightly. “Yeah. Me too.”

Reluctantly, you pull away from her warmth, sitting up and running a hand through your messy hair. You grab your underwear and pants from the floor, pulling them on before glancing back at her.

She’s still sprawled out, her bare legs tangled in the sheets, looking way too fucking comfortable for someone who’s about to sneak out of a house she isn’t supposed to be in.

“Come on,” you tell her. “Let’s eat.”

She groans, dragging herself up from the bed and pulling on her oversized sweatshirt again before following you out.

The house is quiet. No sign of your parents. But you both still move cautiously, sticking to the shadows like fugitives as you make your way to the kitchen.

You make her a simple sandwich—just ham, cheese, and a little mayo—and one for yourself, placing them on plates. She takes hers with a sleepy smile, murmuring a quiet “Thanks, baby” before taking a bite.

That’s when you see it.

Her phone. Lying between the couch cushions, right where she must’ve left it earlier in the night.

Shit. If your parents had found it… You grab it quickly, heading back to the kitchen. “Hey, you forgot this.”

Karina looks up, mid-bite, eyes widening slightly before she giggles. “Oops.”

She takes the phone, grinning sheepishly. “Guess I was too distracted.”

You snort, sitting down across from her. “Yeah, no shit.”

You eat in silence after that, the only sound in the kitchen being the occasional crunch of bread, the distant ticking of the kitchen clock. You find yourself watching her, completely unable to look away.

She’s beautiful. Even in this dim light, even in just her sweatshirt, her hair messy from sex, her skin still glowing slightly—she’s fucking beautiful.

And you love her.

It hits you suddenly, just how much. You’d risk everything for her. You already are.

When you finish eating, you both head back to your room. But the second you step inside, your eyes land on the mess.

The bed.

Completely fucking soaked.

Karina follows your gaze, and you see the exact moment she realizes. Her entire face turns red, her eyes widening in horror. “…Oh my god,” she whispers.

You glance at her, biting back a smirk. “You really lost it, huh?”

She buries her face in her hands. “Stop,” she groans. “This is so embarrassing.”

You chuckle, walking over and poking at the wet patch. “Damn, babe. You ruined my fucking bed.”

She whines, flopping onto the only dry part of the mattress, hiding her face. “I can’t believe I did that.”

You sit beside her, brushing her hair back. “Hey. It’s hot as fuck.”

She peeks at you through her fingers. “Really?”

“Really.” You grin. “But also, how the hell am I supposed to clean this?”

She groans again, covering her face. “I don’t know! Just—flip the mattress or something!” You laugh quietly, kissing the top of her head.

Yeah, the bed is ruined. The room is a disaster. And tomorrow, you’ll have to explain why your sheets are in the wash at 7 a.m.

But now she's here. Warm. Yours.

And that's all that matters.

The two of you spend some time in the room, listening carefully to the occasional sounds of your parents moving around the bedroom. But soon, the house falls silent.

Finally.

Karina grabs her phone, ordering a Uber. She sighs, stretching before standing up. “I should go before I push my luck.” You nod, but you don’t like it. You don’t want her to go.

Minutes later, a single car horn sounds from outside.

You both freeze for a second.

“Shit,” she hisses. “That was loud.”

You move quickly, peeking through the window. The car is there, waiting. No lights turning on in your parents’ room. Yet.

“Come on,” you whisper, grabbing her hand. She follows you, both of you moving quickly and quietly. You lead her to the front door, pausing just before opening it.

You look at her.

She looks at you.

And then you kiss her.

It’s slow but deep, your hands cupping her face, her fingers curling into your shirt. It’s a goodbye kiss, but also a promise. When you finally pull away, she smiles at you, her eyes soft.

“I love you.”

You squeeze her hand. “I love you too.”

Then, she slips outside, hurrying to the waiting car.

And you? You lock the door, take a deep breath, and head back to your ruined bed, already counting down the days until you can have her in it again.

—

The routine stays the same. Sneaking around, waiting for the perfect window when neither of your parents are home, stealing moments together whenever you can. It’s frustrating, but you make it work. You always do.

Today, though, you’re breaking the cycle—at least a little.

You’re sitting in a park, away from the crowded spots, where the trees give you enough shade to keep cool. A picnic blanket is spread out beneath you, snacks and drinks laid out, nothing fancy, but enough to make this feel special. Because today isn’t just any day.

It’s Karina’s birthday.

And fuck, she looks beautiful.

She’s wearing a dress—white, soft fabric, the kind that clings just enough to show off her curves but flows in all the right places. It’s got thin straps that sit delicately on her shoulders, leaving her collarbones and the smooth expanse of her neck exposed, just begging to be kissed. The bodice hugs her waist, showing off her perfect figure, before flaring out slightly around her thighs. When the breeze picks up, the hem flutters, teasing glimpses of her legs, her skin glowing in the sunlight. Her hair is loose today, falling over her shoulders in soft waves, and her makeup is minimal, just enough to make her features pop—though, if you’re being honest, she doesn’t need it. Her lips are a soft shade of pink, and her eyes sparkle every time she looks at you.

She looks like something out of a fucking dream.

She catches you staring and smirks, tilting her head slightly. “What?”

You shake your head, grinning. “You’re just… so fucking pretty.”

She giggles, reaching for a strawberry from the small container between you. “You’re just saying that because it’s my birthday.”

“I say it every day,” you point out, watching as she bites into the fruit, her lips glistening slightly from the juice.

She hums in amusement, chewing slowly before swallowing. “Still. I like hearing it.”

You lean in, brushing your fingers over her knee. “Then I’ll keep saying it.”

She smiles, soft and sweet, before offering you a strawberry. You take a bite straight from her fingers, and she laughs, wiping the juice from your lip with her thumb.

The moment is simple, quiet, but it’s perfect. You wish things didn’t have to be so secret. That you could celebrate her properly, with her family, with your family, without sneaking around like criminals. But for now, this is enough. Just the two of you, in your own little world.

The day is perfect by the way. The kind of day that makes you forget all the bullshit you and Karina have to deal with. Right now, none of that matters.

You’ve got your arms wrapped around her, her back pressed against your chest as you sit together on the picnic blanket. She’s warm, soft, fitting against you in that way that feels too natural, too right. The view of the park is nice—the trees swaying gently in the breeze, the sunlight filtering through the leaves, the few scattered people going about their day—but honestly, you’re barely paying attention. She smells so fucking good, something sweet and floral, and when she shifts slightly, adjusting her position against you, the movement sends a pleasant little shiver through your body.

You talk about everything—random memories, stupid jokes, the weird couple you saw earlier arguing about how to set up a folding chair. Karina laughs softly, her voice light, relaxed. Then—

“Wanna know a secret?” she asks, her tone playful.

You raise a brow, intrigued. “Always.”

She leans in slightly, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “I’m not wearing any panties.” Your entire body tenses.

You blink. “What?”

She pulls back, biting her lip, eyes full of mischief. “I thought it’d be fun.”

You stare at her, your brain struggling to process the sudden shift in conversation. You look down at her dress, that soft, flowy fabric, and suddenly, you can’t stop thinking about what’s underneath. Or rather, what isn’t underneath.

“That’s—” You clear your throat, already feeling your blood rushing south. “That’s really fucking hot.”

She grins, clearly pleased with herself. “I was thinking…” She trails a finger down your arm, slow and teasing. “I’ve always been curious about having sex in a public place.”

You exhale sharply, your grip on her tightening. “You’re seriously the naughtiest person I know.”

She giggles. “I know.”

Your lips crash into hers before you even realize what you’re doing. The kiss is deep, heated, your hand sliding down her side, gripping her thigh, already desperate to feel more. The thought of fucking her out here, with people nearby, the risk, the thrill—it’s got your heart pounding.

You pull back, breathless, and grab her hand. “Come on.” She follows eagerly, a knowing smile playing on her lips as you walk together, looking for somewhere safe, somewhere hidden. The park isn’t crowded today, which works in your favor. But then—

As you round a path leading toward a quieter area, you see it—a gathering of people. Not just any people—middle-aged, dressed a little too nicely for a casual park visit.

Some kind of event is going on. You squint, trying to figure it out. A community book club? A charity fundraiser? Maybe one of those wine-tasting things that always seem to attract people in their 40s and 50s.

None of it really matters. Because the second Karina sees them, she freezes. And then, without a word, she grabs your wrist and pulls you behind the nearest tree.

Your back presses against the bark, Karina pressed close against you, her breathing suddenly unsteady. “What the hell?” you whisper. “What’s wrong?” She swallows hard, peeking around the tree again before turning back to you, eyes wide.

“My parents,” she says in a hushed voice. “They’re here.”

Your stomach drops. “What?”

You peek out, scanning the crowd, and sure enough—there they are. Standing together, talking to some other couple, looking completely at home in this kind of setting.

What the fuck are they doing here?

Before you can even fully process it, your own eyes catch on something else. Your parents. Right fucking there.

You jerk back behind the tree, your mind reeling. “Holy shit.”

Karina stares at you. “What?”

“My parents are here too.”

Her mouth falls open slightly. “No way.”

“Yes way,” you hiss. “What the fuck is happening? They didn’t even mention going out today!”

Karina peeks out again, her brow furrowed. “Is this some weird, like… adult social event thing?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t fucking care,” you whisper. “We need to get back to the picnic before they see us.”

But Karina doesn’t move.

Instead, she grabs your hand, her grip firm.

“No.”

You blink. “No?”

She leans in, pressing against you, her lips just inches from yours. “I still want you to fuck me.”

Your breath catches. “Are you insane?”

She smiles, her fingers trailing down your arm, slow, teasing. “If we’re quick, no one will see us.”

You should say no. You should. This is reckless. Stupid. Borderline suicidal. But fuck—

The risk, the danger, the fact that your parents are right there—it’s so fucking hot.

You grab her wrist, eyes burning into hers. “Come on.”

She grins, biting her lip as you lead her away, toward a hidden corner, where you can stay out of sight while still watching the event from a safe distance.

Your heart is racing. And this is about to be the best mistake you’ve ever made.

The corner you lead Karina to is tucked away, hidden between thick bushes and a couple of trees with low-hanging branches. It’s just far enough from the event that no one will notice you, but not so far that the risk is completely gone. You can still hear the low hum of conversation, the occasional burst of laughter from the gathering of middle-aged people, your parents somewhere in that crowd.

But none of that matters right now. Right now, it’s just you and Karina, standing in the shade, adrenaline buzzing through your veins. The air is warm, slightly humid, carrying the faint scent of grass and flowers, but all you can focus on is her—on the way she’s looking at you, eyes dark with anticipation, her lips parted slightly.

You don’t waste any time.

Your mouth crashes onto hers, swallowing her little gasp as you push her up against the rough bark of a tree. She melts into you instantly, her hands grabbing at your shoulders, pulling you closer. The kiss is messy, all tongue and heat, your need for each other too overwhelming to be anything but desperate.

Your hands move on instinct, sliding down her sides, feeling the soft curve of her waist before settling on her ass. You squeeze hard, fingers digging into the plump flesh through the thin fabric of her dress.

She moans against your lips, pressing her body against yours.

“You’re so fucking bad,” you murmur against her mouth.

She giggles breathlessly, rolling her hips against you. “You love it.”

You growl softly, giving her ass another firm squeeze before your hands move to your belt.

No more waiting.

You shove your pants down just enough to free your cock, already hard, throbbing with the need to be inside her. She watches you, biting her lip, her breath coming faster.

Then, without breaking eye contact, you grab the hem of her dress and lift it.

No panties. Just like she said.

You curse under your breath, gripping her hip as you press your cock against her bare skin, dragging it along her slick folds from behind.

She shudders, her fingers digging into the bark of the tree. “Oh my god—”

You smirk, rubbing your length against her, teasing her, making her squirm. “This what you wanted?”

“Yes,” she breathes. “Please—fuck, we have to be quick—”

She’s right. You both know you don’t have time for teasing.

So you don’t waste another second.

You grab her hips, positioning yourself behind her, and then you push inside.

She gasps, her whole body tensing as you stretch her open, filling her in one deep, smooth thrust.

“Fuck,” you groan, your forehead pressing against her shoulder. She’s so fucking tight, her pussy gripping you perfectly, like she was made for this.

Karina bites down on her lip, stifling a moan. “God—you’re so deep—”

You grip her hips tighter, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in.

She lets out a muffled cry, her body jerking forward slightly from the force of it.

You wrap a arm around her waist, holding her steady, setting a fast, rough pace. You don’t have time to take it slow—not here, not with the risk of being caught. Every thrust drives her harder against the tree, her body rocking with each movement.

She’s struggling to keep quiet, her moans coming out in soft, broken whimpers, her hands gripping the bark like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“You love this, don’t you?” you whisper in her ear. “Getting fucked right out in the open, where anyone could see?”

She whimpers, her pussy tightening around you. “Y-yes—fuck—”

Your hand moves from her waist to her thigh, gripping, lifting her leg slightly to get even deeper.

She gasps sharply, her back arching, her head tilting back onto your shoulder.

“Baby—oh my god—”

You keep fucking her, each thrust pushing her up against the rough bark of the tree, her body jerking slightly with the force of it. She’s soaked, dripping down your cock, her walls clenching around you like she’s trying to pull you in deeper. The heat between you is overwhelming, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex.

Your hands move from her hips, sliding up her stomach, feeling the curve of her waist before reaching her tits. You squeeze them through the thin fabric of her dress, fingers finding her hard nipples, rolling them between your fingertips.

She gasps, arching into your touch.

“Fuck, baby—” Her voice is breathy, almost a whisper, but you can hear the excitement, the thrill laced in every syllable.

You lean in, lips brushing against her neck, kissing, sucking lightly. She shivers, her whole body reacting to the sensation.

She giggles, nervous and turned on at the same time. “This is so wrong,” she breathes. “So dangerous.”

You smirk against her skin, nipping lightly at her shoulder. “Maybe that’s why we love it so much.”

She moans softly, pressing back against you, her ass grinding into your hips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you murmur. “Maybe sneaking around for so long fucked us up a little. Maybe we got a kink for this kinda thing.”

She whimpers at that, her pussy tightening around you. “Mmm—maybe we did.”

You pick up the pace, snapping your hips against her, pushing her harder into the tree. The wet sound of your bodies moving together is obscene, mixing with the distant voices of people at the event just beyond your little hiding spot.

Karina gasps, her fingers digging into the bark. “Oh my god—”

Her thighs tremble, her breath coming in short, quick pants.

You grip her hips tighter, fingers digging into her soft flesh as you start fucking her harder, faster. Your pace turns frantic, desperate, every thrust slamming deep into her dripping pussy, making her body jolt with the force of it. She’s so fucking wet, each stroke making a filthy, slick sound that only adds to the raw intensity of what you’re doing.

Karina is losing it.

Her moans grow louder, high-pitched and breathless, her hands clawing at the rough bark of the tree for some kind of stability. She’s completely at your mercy, taking every thrust, her legs shaking, her body surrendering to the pleasure.

“Fuck—baby—” Her voice is trembling, barely coherent.

You grit your teeth, leaning over her, pressing your lips to her ear. “Shh,” you murmur. “Not so loud.”

“I can’t,” she whimpers, her voice breaking. “I—I can’t be quiet—”

That makes something snap inside you.

The fact that she knows she needs to be quiet, wants to be quiet—but she can’t. She’s so lost in it, so overwhelmed by pleasure, that controlling herself isn’t even a option.

And that? That drives you fucking crazy.

You slam into her harder, your cock buried deep inside her, hitting her exactly where she needs. Her back arches, her fingers tightening around the tree, another sharp moan slipping past her lips.

She gasps suddenly, her whole body trembling. “I’m—I’m close—”

You groan, feeling your own release creeping up on you. “Me too.”

She tilts her head, turning just enough to find your lips. “Cum with me,” she begs, her voice soft, desperate.

That’s all you need.

You kiss her, swallowing her moans, your tongues tangling as you fuck her through the last stretch of pleasure. The tension in your body builds and builds, the heat in your gut tightening until it finally—

“Fuck—”

Karina suddenly stiffens, her pussy clamping down around you as she cums, her body wracked with shudders.

But she screams.

Your hand flies up, clamping over her mouth just in time, muffling the tail end of that scream before it can carry too far. The voices nearby pause—someone laughs, someone else mutters something—and your heart’s pounding in your chest, adrenaline spiking. Her cries are still vibrating against your palm, hot and wet, her breath heaving as her orgasm wrecks her, her pussy pulsing around you, soaking you even more. She’s shaking so bad you have to hold her up, your arm wrapping around her waist to keep her from collapsing.

And that—her muffled screams, the way she’s clenching so fucking tight, the way her whole body’s convulsing against you—it’s too much. It shoves you right over the edge.

Pleasure hits you like a goddamn truck, raw and blinding, crashing through every nerve in your body. Your cock twitches hard, buried deep inside her, and you lose it. You cum—hot, thick, and messy—spilling into her with these sharp, uncontrollable pulses. The first spurt’s so intense it feels like your soul’s leaving your body, your vision blurring at the edges, your knees buckling as you pump her full. You can feel it—every rope of cum flooding her, stuffing her pussy to the brim, the heat of it mixing with hers, slick and overwhelming.

“Fuck—so good—too fucking good—” you growl through gritted teeth, still thrusting shallow and sloppy as you ride it out, each pulse hitting you like a shockwave. The risk of it—your parents just beyond the trees, probably sipping drinks and chatting, no clue their son’s unloading inside Karina right now—it’s like lighter fluid on the fire, making every sensation tem times sharper, tem times dirtier. Your hands dig into her hips, bruising, like letting go means you’ll both fall apart.

You stay there for a minute, panting hard, chests heaving, your cock still twitching inside her as the last of it leaks out. She’s trembling under you, little aftershocks making her pussy flutter around you, milking you dry. Finally, you pull out slow, and she lets out this shaky, wrecked exhale, her legs wobbling as she straightens up, leaning heavy against the tree for support.

You step back just enough, hands sliding down to grab her ass cheeks, spreading them wide. And fuck—there it is. Your cum’s already leaking out of her, thick and white, oozing from her swollen, fucked-out pussy. It drips slow down the inside of her thigh, glistening in the faint sunlight filtering through the branches. Her entrance is still pulsing, pushing out more, and it’s pooling there, sticky, hot, and dangerously obscene.

She gasps, twisting her head back to look at you, eyes wide and dazed. “Jesus fuck, baby—you came so fucking much.” Her voice is hoarse, awed, like she can’t believe how full she is. There’s a little smirk tugging at her lips, though, this filthy pride mixing with the shock.

You grin, smug and wrecked, squeezing her ass playfully, smearing some of the mess across her skin with your fingers. “Yeah, well—you fucking earned it, didn’t you?” Your voice is low, still rough from the high.

You tuck yourself back into your pants, heart still pounding, body still buzzing.

That? That was fucking insane.

And you loved it.

You grab Karina’s hand, your fingers lacing together as you sneak back toward your picnic spot where she can wipe her thighs with some disposable tissues, hearts still pounding, adrenaline still buzzing through your veins. Every step feels like a risk, every movement sharp and alert, your senses heightened from what you just did.

But no one notices.

No one even looks in your direction.

The people at the event are still deep in their conversations, sipping their overpriced wine or whatever the hell they’re doing. Your parents—both sets—are still in the crowd, oblivious, completely unaware that just moments ago, their kids were fucking like animals just a few feet away.

It’s almost ridiculous.

You and Karina glance at each other, trying to keep straight faces, but it’s useless.

The moment you reach your picnic blanket, you both collapse onto it, covering your mouths to muffle your laughter.

“Holy shit,” Karina whispers, her body shaking from the effort of holding it in. “We actually did that.”

You exhale sharply, leaning back on your hands, still catching your breath. “That was fucking insane.”

She looks at you, eyes bright with excitement. “And so hot.”

You groan, running a hand through your hair. “Don’t start. I’m this close to dragging you behind another tree.”

She giggles, shifting closer, resting her head against your shoulder. Her body is still warm, still humming with the aftermath of what you just did. You can feel it. The connection between you—stronger than ever.

She exhales slowly, tilting her head up to look at you. “I still feel you inside me.”

You turn to look at her, and she’s smirking, that smug, satisfied look that drives you crazy.

You swallow hard, eyes flicking down to her thighs, her soft, bare skin still flushed from the way you had her bent over, taking you deep. And now—now she’s sitting here, looking perfect and innocent in that little white dress, while your cum is still leaking out of her.

You shift, adjusting your position, because fuck if that doesn’t make you hard again.

Karina grins, obviously noticing, and nudges you playfully. “Behave.”

You scoff. “Says the one who just dragged me into public sex.”

She shrugs, resting her hand on your thigh. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

You glance around quickly, making sure no one is paying attention before leaning in, brushing your lips against her ear. “Because I love it.”

She shivers, biting her lip, her fingers curling against your leg.

And just like that—you both know this isn’t over.

—

The last few months have been a grind.

Between college, your part-time job, and the constant stress of keeping your relationship a secret, you and Karina have barely had any time together. It’s frustrating as hell, sneaking around, finding small pockets of time where you can be alone, only to have them cut short by obligations, responsibilities, or the constant fear of getting caught.

And it’s been weeks since you last fucked.

So when your phone buzzes while you’re chilling at your friend’s place, and you see Karina’s name on the screen, you don’t hesitate to answer.

“Hey, baby,” you say, already feeling a smile tug at your lips.

Her voice comes through the speaker, light and teasing. “Miss me?”

You chuckle. “Always.”

“Mmm, good answer.” There’s a playful lilt to her tone, something just under the surface, something that instantly makes your body react. “Do you remember what I told you a couple of weeks ago?”

You pause, trying to think. “Uh…”

She sighs dramatically. “You forgot?”

You scramble, running through past conversations in your head, but before you can figure it out, she gives you the answer herself.

“My parents,” she says slowly, like she’s guiding a clueless student. “Are at a friend’s wedding. Out of town. For the whole night.”

You did forget. She did mention it, but between work and school, it completely slipped your mind. And now—

Now she’s alone.

At home.

Waiting for you.

The grin that spreads across your face is instant.

“You serious?” you ask, already standing up from the couch.

“Dead serious,” she purrs. “And I really don’t want to spend the night alone.”

You’re already grabbing your keys, your heart pounding. “I’m on my way.”

She giggles. “I’ll be waiting.”

You hang up and turn to your friends, who have been watching you with knowing looks.

“I gotta go,” you announce, already heading for the door.

One of them smirks. “Karina?”

“Karina.”

They all nod in understanding. “Go get your girl, man.”

You don’t need to be told twice.

You practically run out the door, jumping into your car, setting off toward the one place you want to be more than anywhere else. Tonight, Karina is yours. And nothing is going to stop you from getting to her.

—

You pull up to Karina’s house, your heart already pounding, excitement buzzing in your veins. It’s been way too fucking long since you had her all to yourself—no parents, no time limits, no need to rush. Just you and her, a whole night with nothing standing in your way.

You practically jump out of the car, hurrying up to the front door. You ring the doorbell.

And wait.

Nothing.

You frown, shifting on your feet. Maybe she’s in the bathroom? Or listening to music? You ring again. Then again, a little impatient now.

Still nothing.

Your excitement dims slightly, replaced by curiosity. You check your phone—no messages. Weird.

You sigh, already knowing what you’re about to do.

You step around the side of the house, toward the window of her room, the same one you’ve climbed through way too many times before. You know it’s never locked—she always forgets to latch it.

Like always, it slides open easily. You climb inside, landing silently in the familiar space. The soft scent of her perfume lingers in the air, her bed slightly messy, the desk covered in scattered notebooks.

But she’s not here.

You frown, stepping out into the hallway. The house is quiet.

Then, you hear the sound of a door closing.

You follow the noise, stepping into the living room—

And there she is.

Standing in front of the now-closed front door, looking confused for a split second before she turns around—

And screams.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

She practically jumps out of her skin, stumbling back against the door, her hand flying to her chest.

You freeze, eyes wide. “Shit—”

She stares at you, eyes blown wide, breathing hard. “What the fuck are you doing in here?!”

You raise your hands in surrender, trying not to laugh at her reaction. “Babe, relax—I rang the bell like five times, you didn’t answer!”

She still looks completely shaken, her chest rising and falling quickly. “So you just broke in?!”

“I climbed in,” you correct. “Like I always do.”

She groans, covering her face. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

You step closer, gently pulling her hands away from her face. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

She pouts against your mouth. “You’re a idiot.”

You smirk, kissing her again, this time deeper, letting your hands slide down to her waist. “Yeah, but you love me.”

She sighs dramatically but melts into you, her arms looping around your neck.

Now that you’re close, you really take her in—her oversized shirt barely covering anything, her bare legs smooth and tempting, her skin still warm from the scare you gave her.

“Do your parents know you’ve been wearing those short clothes around boys?”

“Ugh, stop acting like a pervert,” she says, patting your chest lightly.

“When do they get back?” you ask, trailing your fingers along her hips.

She hums, pretending to think. “Tomorrow morning.”

Your smirk grows. “That’s plenty of time.”

Her breath catches slightly, her hands gripping your arms. “You better not waste it.”

Oh, you won’t.

The moment those words leave her mouth, you crash your lips against hers, pulling her into a messy, desperate kiss.

It’s been weeks since you properly made out, and now, all of that pent-up frustration, all of that longing, comes exploding out at once. Your mouths move together frantically, your tongues meeting, your hands gripping her body like you’re scared she’ll disappear if you let go.

You’re stumbling backward, barely aware of where you’re going, your focus completely consumed by her. Then—

You hit the couch.

You fall onto it, and Karina immediately climbs onto your lap, straddling you, her knees pressing into the cushions on either side of your legs. Between kisses, she gasps, “Fuck, I missed you so much.”

You groan, tilting your head, kissing along her jaw, down to her neck. “Missed you too, baby. So fucking much.”

Your hands slide down her thighs, gripping, squeezing, mapping out the smooth curves of her legs. And then you realize.

She’s not wearing anything under that oversized shirt.

Your fingers dig into her thighs, your cock twitching in your pants. “Jesus, Karina.”

She smirks against your lips, rocking her hips slightly. “You like?”

“Obviously.”

You slide your hands up, under her shirt, feeling the heat of her bare skin, the soft swell of her hips. She’s so fucking perfect, so yours.

Between kisses, her voice lowers, turning softer. “You know… college is almost over.”

You pause slightly, just for a second, before nodding. “Yeah.”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her fingers tracing your jaw. “We’ll be free soon.”

You exhale, running your hands up her back.

She continues, her voice filled with quiet excitement. “We can get decent jobs. Rent a apartment. Live together.”

Your chest tightens—not with fear, not with hesitation, but with something stronger. Hope.

No more sneaking around. No more hiding. Just you and her, in a home that’s yours.

“No one bothering us,” she murmurs, pressing her forehead against yours.

You smile, cupping her face. “No one stopping us.”

She grins. “We can have sex every day.”

You chuckle. “In every room in the apartment.”

She laughs softly, tilting her head as she kisses you again, but this time, her hands move—

To your pants.

Your breath catches as she unbuttons them, her fingers working quickly, like she’s been waiting for this. Your cock is already hard, straining against the fabric, aching to be freed.

She pulls it out.

You let out a sharp breath, your head falling back slightly as the cool air hits you, but that relief is short-lived because Karina—fuck—Karina is shifting, adjusting herself on your lap, lining herself up—

And then she sinks down.

Your whole body locks up.

“Fuck,” you groan, your hands flying to her hips as you feel the tight, hot grip of her pussy enveloping you completely.

Karina gasps, her nails digging into your shoulders as she takes you in, stretching around you, her breath stuttering.

She sighs, her eyes fluttering shut. “God, I missed this.”

You grip her hips tighter, barely holding yourself back. “Me too, baby.”

Then she starts moving.

She lifts herself slightly before dropping back down, making you both shudder at the sensation. She sets a slow rhythm at first, savoring the stretch, the fullness, the way you feel inside her.

Then, she picks up the pace.

Bouncing on your cock, her hands gripping your shoulders for support, her moans spilling freely into the space between you.

And fuck—this is what you’ve been missing.

Karina keeps bouncing on your cock, her movements growing more desperate, more eager, her slick heat squeezing around you with every roll of her hips. She’s fucking perfect like this—on top of you, taking you in deep, her body moving like she was made for this.

She reaches for the hem of her shirt, her breath shaky, her movements rushed. She pulls it over her head in one quick motion, tossing it aside, leaving her completely bare.

And fuck.

Her tits fall free, full and heavy, bouncing slightly with every movement.

Your mouth practically waters.

“Jesus Christ,” you groan, hands sliding up her body, over her waist, up to cup those perfect tits.

Karina moans at your touch, her back arching slightly. “You like?” she teases breathlessly.

You don’t even answer. You just act.

Your hands slide back down, gripping her hips before trailing lower, fingers grazing over the roundness of her ass.

And then—

You give her a playful, light slap.

It’s not hard—not yet—but it’s exactly what she likes, exactly what gets her going.

She whimpers, her whole body reacting, her walls tightening around your cock for a second.

That reaction? Fucking addictive.

So you do it again.

Another quick, teasing slap against the soft flesh of her ass.

She moans louder this time, her pace stuttering before she catches herself, moving faster now, chasing more of it, wanting more.

Her ass is just too fucking good not to touch.

You alternate between squeezing and slapping, making her whine, making her needier.

And while your hands are busy making her ass turn that beautiful shade of pink, your mouth moves down.

To her tits.

You latch onto one of her nipples, sucking it deep into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the stiff peak.

She cries out, her hands flying to your head, her fingers tangling in your hair as she gasps, “Fuck—baby—”

Karina’s fucking gone now. Obliterated by the sheer, animalistic need pulsing through her veins. Her hips are rolling like they’ve got a mind of their own, chasing that insane stretch of your cock splitting her open, filling every inch of her dripping, greedy pussy. She’s soaked—drenched—and every time she slams down on you, the wet, obscene squelch of her juices mixes with the slap of skin on skin, bouncing off the walls of the dimly lit living room like a goddamn porno soundtrack.

Her voice cracks through the haze, soft but so fucking desperate it’s almost a sob. “Fuck—you’re huge—so goddamn thick—I can feel you tearing me apart and it’s so fucking good—”

Your hands clamp down on her hips, fingers digging into her soft, sweaty flesh hard enough to leave marks. You yank her down harder, faster, forcing her to take every inch of you, her slick walls gripping you like a vice.

“Yeah? You fucking love this dick, don’t you?” you growl, eyes locked on her—those perfect, heavy tits bouncing with every thrust, her skin flushed and glowing under the shitty lamp light, sweat beading down her neck. She’s a goddamn mess, and it’s driving you wild.

She nods like her life depends on it, pupils blown out, breath coming in ragged, needy little gasps. “Love it—fuck, I’m obsessed—can’t stop wanting you—”

Your hands roam her body like you own it, sliding down the slick curve of her waist, then lower, grabbing fistfuls of her plump ass. You squeeze hard, feeling the muscle flex under your grip, and then—fuck it—you bring your hand down with a sharp, stinging crack against that perfect, round cheek.

The sound cuts through the air like a gunshot, blending with her filthy moans, and holy shit, the way she reacts—a choked gasp, her back arching so hard her tits press against your chest, her pussy squeezing you so tight it almost hurts—it’s like pouring gasoline on the fire raging inside you.

So you do it again. Harder. Another brutal slap, watching her ass jiggle and turn pink under your hand. She shudders, a whimper spilling out of her, and then you switch it up—bring your hand crashing down on one of those massive, bouncing tits. The smack lands right across her nipple, and she yelps, half-surprise, half-ecstasy, her hips bucking wilder, grinding down on you like she’s trying to break you.

“Fuck—do it again,” she pants, voice trembling with lust, and you don’t even hesitate—another hard slap to her tit, watching it ripple, watching her lose her damn mind. She’s bouncing faster now, completely unglued, her nails clawing at your shoulders as she rides you into oblivion.

Then—out of nowhere—she laughs. Not some cute little giggle, but a full-on, breathless, dirty laugh, wild and reckless, her eyes flashing with this dangerous, untamed heat. “If my parents knew I was getting my brains fucked out on their precious TV couch,” she gasps, still slamming down on you like a goddamn jackhammer, “they’d fucking disown me—or maybe burn the damn thing.”

That hits you like a punch to the gut, a sick, twisted thrill twisting through your chest. The idea of it—their sweet little girl, their pride and joy, sprawled out right where they sit sipping coffee, getting her pussy wrecked by you, stuffed so full she’s shaking—it’s so wrong it’s perfect.

You laugh, low and rough. “Yeah, they’d lose their fucking minds.”

She giggles again, but it’s shaky, her whole body trembling as she teeters on the edge. “Guess I’m a real bad daughter, huh?”

You grab her jaw, rough but not cruel, tilting her face so she’s forced to look at you. “The fucking worst,” you rasp, voice thick with want.

Her lips twitch into a smirk, her eyes blazing into yours, dripping with heat and something softer, something that catches you off guard. “You still love me, though?”

No pause, no doubt. “Damn right I do.”

For a split second, time slows—her gaze softens, and you feel it, that raw, real thread tying you together beneath all the filth. But then her lips part, and her voice drops into this pleading, broken whimper—

“Then fucking make me cum, baby. Please.”

And that’s it. That’s the match that lights the dynamite.

You snap.

In one fluid move, you wrap your arms around her waist, flip her onto her back, and pin her to the couch like a goddamn animal. She gasps, legs hooking around your hips on instinct as you rear back and slam into her—hard, deep, ruthless. The cushions groan under the force, the whole damn room vibrating with the wet, obscene slap-slap-slap of your bodies colliding.

Karina screams, her hands scrabbling at your chest, nails raking red lines down your skin. “Oh fuck—yes—harder—” Her words dissolve into choked, gasping moans, her head thrashing side to side as you pound into her, relentless, unmerciful.

Her pussy’s a sopping mess, soaking your thighs, your cock, the couch—everything. The sounds are pornographic, loud and shameless, and you can’t get enough. You grip her hips so tight you can feel her bones, yanking her down to meet every brutal thrust, watching her tits bounce wildly, her body bending under you like she’s made for this.

She’s unraveling—fast. You can see it in the way her eyes roll back, the way her voice cracks into these frantic, babbling cries. “Baby—fuck—I’m gonna—oh my god—I can’t—”

You lean down, growl rough and low in her ear. “You’re gonna cum for me, huh? Gonna make a fucking mess all over me?”

She nods, frantic, clawing at the cushions like they’re her lifeline. “Yes—yes—fuck, please don’t stop—”

You don’t. You can’t. You’re too far gone, too caught up in the way she’s falling apart beneath you. You shift your angle just a hair, hitting that spot deep inside her that makes her whole body jerk, and she lets out this high, keening wail—

“There—right there—oh fuck—”

You feel it before she even says it—her pussy clamps down around you like a fucking trap, so tight it’s almost painful, and you lose it. You grab her thighs, shove them up higher, and start railing her so hard the couch skids a inch across the floor.

“Cum for me,” you snarl, voice raw and commanding. “Fucking soak me, baby—let it go.”

And she does.

Her orgasm hits like a goddamn explosion—her whole body seizes up, back arching off the couch, legs shaking so hard you have to hold them down. A scream rips out of her, loud and jagged, as her pussy pulses around you, gushing wet heat that spills down your cock, dripping onto the cushions. She’s thrashing, sobbing, completely fucking wrecked, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

That’s all it takes.

You bury yourself deep—one last brutal thrust—and blow. A guttural, primal groan tears from your throat as you cum, pumping thick, hot spurts inside her, filling her up until you can feel it leaking out around you. The pleasure’s blinding, searing through you like a wildfire, your whole body trembling as you ride it out, hips jerking with the aftershocks.

For a long, hazy minute, you’re both still—panting, sweaty, tangled together like a car crash. Her chest heaves, her eyes half-lidded and glassy, and you can feel her heartbeat thudding through her ribs where you’re pressed against her.

Then she laughs—weak, breathless, almost delirious. “...What the fuck was that?”

You chuckle, hoarse and wrecked, dropping your forehead to her shoulder. “That was us fucking ruining this couch.”

She snorts, running shaky fingers through your damp hair. “Yeah, well... worth it. You really made your bad girl cum her brains out.”

You pull back just enough to grin at her, smug as hell. “Told you I would.”

Then, suddenly, she shifts, standing on shaky feet. She looks down at you, eyes dark with something insatiable, and then she smirks.

“Come to my room.”

Your whole body tenses.

She doesn’t even wait for a response. She turns on her heel, walking toward the hallway, her naked form moving with a effortless, teasing sway of her hips.

Your brain barely processes the movement of you standing up, but before you follow her, you flip the wet couch cushions, just in case. Your heart is still pounding, your cock still hard despite having just cum, because fuck—this night isn’t over yet.

The moment you step into her room, you’re already yanking off your clothes, tossing them aside in a rush. Karina stands by the bed, watching you, waiting, her bare body bathed in the dim glow of her bedside lamp.

Her tits rise and fall with every breath, her nipples still flushed, her thighs still wet with the mess you made of her earlier. Her lips are slightly parted, her expression filled with anticipation, and you know she wants more.

You reach her in two strides, your hands instantly finding her waist as you pull her in for a deep, messy kiss. Your tongues collide, your hands roam, and she melts against you, completely surrendering to the way you’re guiding her, the way you need her.

Between kisses, her voice comes out breathy, teasing. “Think you can make me squirt again?”

You smirk, squeezing her cheek lightly, making her look directly into your eyes. “I’ll try,” you murmur, dragging your thumb across her lips before gripping her jaw. “But you’re gonna have to be a good girl for me.”

She shivers at that, her body reacting before her words even come out. “I will,” she breathes, nodding slightly.

You release her face, letting your hands slide down to her hips before giving her a little nudge. “Then get on all fours for me.”

That does it.

She whimpers, eyes fluttering shut for a second as a wave of heat washes over her. Then, without hesitation, she turns, climbing onto the bed, shifting into position.

And fuck, the sight of her like this—knees pressed into the mattress, arms braced against the sheets, her back arched so perfectly, her ass sticking out for you, her glistening pussy already exposed and waiting—makes your blood run hot.

You kneel behind her, your hands instantly moving to her hips, then lower, grabbing two handfuls of her perfect ass. You squeeze, hard, watching the way the flesh dimples under your grip, the way she trembles slightly at your touch.

“You love this, don’t you?” you murmur, sliding one hand down, letting your fingers tease along the wet heat between her thighs.

She gasps, shifting slightly, pushing back against your touch. “Yes,” she whispers, voice shaking. “I love being used like this by you.” Her eyes, glassy with pleasure, lock onto yours, wide and dark, pupils blown out. She’s already panting, already lost in it, her lips parted as soft little whimpers spill from her throat. “Please,” she murmurs, her hips shifting, desperate for more.

That’s all you need to hear. You shift closer, lining yourself up, your body pressed flush against hers. Your cock nudges her entrance, teasing her for just a second—letting the tip drag through her wetness, feeling the way her heat pulses around you. She twitches, a desperate little jerk of her hips, and her breath catches, stuttering in her chest like she’s about to lose it already.

Her head turns slightly, glassy eyes locking onto yours over her shoulder—wide, dark, and drowning in lust, her pupils so blown out there’s barely any color left. Her lips part, soft, needy whimpers spilling out, and she’s panting like she’s already halfway gone. “Please,” she whispers, hips shifting again, practically grinding herself against you. “Please, baby—fuck me.”

You don’t make her wait.

With one hard, smooth thrust, you sink into her, burying yourself deep. She moans, loud and broken, her hands fisting the sheets as her body jolts forward from the force. Her pussy’s so wet, so tight, gripping you like it’s trying to pull you in even deeper. You don’t hold back—grabbing her hips, you start fucking her hard, steady, every thrust slamming into her with a wet smack that fills the room.

You tighten your grip, yanking her back onto your cock with every thrust, watching the way her spine curves, the way her head drops forward like she’s surrendering completely. “So fucking good,” you growl, one hand sliding up her back, fingers tangling in her hair to pull her head back just enough to hear her better. Her moans turn into cries, high-pitched and frantic, her whole body shaking as you pound into her.

“Harder—please—fuck me harder,” she begs, voice cracking, and it’s like she’s handing you the reins to break her. You oblige—slamming into her so hard the bed creaks, the headboard thudding against the wall. Her ass claps against your hips, loud and filthy, and the wet heat of her pussy is dripping down her thighs, soaking everything, making a mess of you both.

Her pussy’s clenching harder now, gripping you like a fucking fist, and you can tell she’s teetering right on the edge, so close but not quite there yet. You lean forward, chest pressed to her sweaty back, one hand sliding around to grip her throat—not tight, just enough to feel her pulse hammering under your fingers. “Gonna make you cum so hard, babe,” you say. “Gonna make you ruin this fucking bed.”

She whimpers, a desperate little sob catching in her throat as she nods, frantic. “Yes—please—fuck, I’m so close—please don’t stop—”

You don’t. You’re too fucking lost in it, hips slamming into her with these loud, wet smacks that echo through the room. Her ass—still red and hot from those slaps—jiggles against you, her body rocking forward with every brutal thrust. She’s a mess, babbling nonsense—Oh god—baby—harder—her arms buckling as she collapses face-first into the mattress, ass still up, taking everything you’re giving her.

But fuck, you’ve been holding it in too long. All that cum’s been building up, heavy and tight in your balls, and it’s starting to get to you. You can feel it—the pressure’s insane, like your cock’s about to burst. Your rhythm stutters, hips jerking unevenly as it hits you, this sudden, uncontrollable surge. A low, guttural groan rips out of you, and you pull out just enough to fist your cock, leaking hot and thick right onto her.

The first spurt lands hard across her back, a messy splash of cum painting her flushed, sweaty skin. She flinches, a sharp, needy gasp spilling out of her as the heat hits, her body trembling under you. “Fuck—what—?” she pants, twisting her head to glance back, eyes wide and wild. You’re still leaking, another thick dribble spilling out, dripping down her spine toward that perfect, red ass, and she moans, low and filthy, like it’s turning her on even more.

“More,” she whines, voice cracking with desperation, her hips wiggling back toward you. “Don’t stop—give me more, baby—please—”

You growl, still stroking yourself through it, letting another pulse leak out. This time, you press the tip of your cock right against her ass—teasing that tight little hole, not going in, just smearing the cum there, watching it drip slow down her crack. She shivers, a full-body shudder, and pushes back against you like she’s begging for it. “Fuck—that’s so hot,” she gasps, her fingers clawing at the sheets. “Keep going—I need you back inside me—now.”

You’re still hard as hell, cock throbbing, slick with her juices and your own leak. She’s got you wound up so tight, and the way she’s pleading—fuck, it’s like she’s pulling you apart. You grab her hips, rough and possessive, and line yourself up again, slamming back into her pussy with one deep, punishing thrust. She cries out, loud and raw, her whole body jolting forward as you pick up the pace again, fucking her even harder than before.

“Like that?” you snarl, voice dripping with heat as you watch her ass bounce against you, still glistening with your cum. “You want it all, huh? Greedy little thing.”

“Yes—yes—” she sobs, voice muffled against the mattress, her back arching sharper to take you deeper. “Fuck me ‘til I can’t think—‘til I’m fucking done—please—”

You’re relentless now, pounding into her so hard the bed groans under you, her pussy soaking you, dripping down your thighs. That leak took the edge off, but you’re still so full, still ready to blow, and she’s egging you on, her needy cries and the way she’s clenching around you driving you fucking insane. Her ass is still hot under your hands, the red marks glowing, and every slap of your hips against her makes her whimper louder, begging for more, more, more.

But you’ve got other plans. You grab her hips, flipping her onto her back in one rough move. She gasps, legs falling open instinctively as she lands on the bed, sprawled out beneath you in the missionary position. Her chest heaves, tits bouncing with the motion, her face flushed and wrecked—eyes half-lidded, lips swollen and parted, still trembling from the aftershocks. Her pussy’s a mess, glistening and leaking, thighs slick with her own cum and yours. She barely has time to react before you’re on her again, spreading her thighs, hooking them over your arms, keeping her completely open for you.

Definitely the best position for this—for watching her face twist in pleasure, for seeing every expression she makes, every little gasp, every time her mouth drops open when you hit the perfect spot inside her. And fuck, you do hit it. Over and over, with every deep, hard thrust.

Her hands fly to your shoulders first, gripping you like she’s trying to ground herself, like she needs something solid to hold onto. But then, as the pleasure builds, as your pace quickens, her hands slide lower, down her own body, until her fingers find her clit.

You groan at the sight, at the way she starts rubbing herself, fast, desperate, completely lost in it. “Oh my god,” she whimpers, her thighs trembling, her breath catching in her throat. “Oh my god, baby—”

You know what’s coming. You can feel it in the way she’s tightening around you, the way her hips are bucking, her whole body trembling. She’s right there, right on the edge, and fuck, that’s exactly what you want.

Your grip on Karina’s hips tightens as you pound into her, her body arching beneath you, legs trembling around your waist. She’s so damn wet, her slickness coating your skin, making every thrust smoother, deeper, faster. The air is thick with the sound of your bodies colliding, with the ragged breaths and soft gasps slipping from her lips. But she’s not moaning anymore—no, she’s past that.

Her fingers work her clit in fast, desperate circles, chasing her high, pushing herself over that delicious edge. And when she finally tips over? She screams.

Not just a moan, not just a breathy little whimper—a all-out, unrestrained, shaking, spine-arching cry of pleasure that echoes through the room. It’s raw, untamed, and fuck, it’s perfect.

“That’s it,” you growl, barely holding yourself together, watching her body tense beneath you, feeling the way her walls clamp down around you. “Don’t stop. Let it happen.”

She doesn’t. If anything, she pushes herself harder, rubbing herself furiously as her orgasm tears through her. And then—

It happens.

Her whole body jerks, back bowing off the mattress as a fresh wave of wetness gushes out of her, soaking you, soaking the sheets, soaking everything. It’s overwhelming, messy, absolutely beautiful.

And she’s still going.

Her thighs shake violently as aftershocks hit her, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. You don’t slow down. You can’t slow down. You thrust faster, deeper, watching her completely fall apart beneath you.

“Look at you,” you murmur, gripping her waist tighter, keeping her steady as she trembles through another wave of pleasure. “So damn beautiful when you lose yourself like this.”

She hears you, and somehow, it makes her push even further. Her eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused, her fingers never leaving her clit. “I—I’m gonna—”

You already know.

And then she’s screaming again, her body convulsing as a second orgasm rips through her. This one’s even harder than the first, her legs kicking out, her hands gripping at anything—your arms, the sheets, the air. Another surge of wetness spills from her, a deep, shaking moan caught in her throat as her body gives in completely.

“That’s my girl,” you whisper, slowing just enough to draw it out, to let her feel everything.

Her eyes roll back. Her mouth drops open in a silent gasp, the pleasure so overwhelming she can’t even form words anymore. She’s ruined, wrecked, gone.

And still, you don’t let up.

You slide a hand between her thighs, rubbing her clit slowly now, teasing her overstimulated nerves, pulling the last bits of pleasure from her. She twitches, a tiny, choked whimper escaping her lips—then one final, weak gush spills out of her. Small, almost cute, the last bit of her completely giving in.

She’s done.

Karina lies there, body still shaking, chest heaving, sweat glistening on her flushed skin. The sheets beneath her are absolutely drenched, a visible reminder of everything you just did to her.

You hover over her, watching as her eyes finally refocus on you, still hazy, still lost in the remnants of her pleasure. You brush damp hair from her face, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

“You okay?” you murmur, voice softer now, laced with satisfaction.

She swallows hard, nodding weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You almost killed me.”

You smirk, leaning down to kiss her swollen lips. “And you loved every second of it.”

A tired little giggle bubbles out of her, her fingers lazily tracing your arm. “I’m never walking again.”

You chuckle, running your hands down her sides, feeling the way she still twitches under your touch. “Worth it?”

She gives you a lazy, blissed-out grin. “So worth it.”

She’s sticky, spent, her thighs slick with the proof of how hard she came, and fuck—you can’t stop looking at her. The way her skin glows under the dim light, the faint sheen of sweat across her collarbone, the lazy, blissed-out smile tugging at her lips.

“You came a lot,” you murmur, your thumb brushing over the inside of her thigh, collecting some of the slick there just to tease her.

Karina laughs breathlessly, tucking herself closer against you. “I know,” she whispers, voice still a little shaky. “I—I can feel it. It’s everywhere.”

You smirk, fingers trailing higher, skimming just close enough to make her shiver, her legs twitching in response. “And how are you gonna clean up this mess?”

She bites her lip, eyes hazy with exhaustion and something else—something playful, teasing. “I don’t know…” she admits, cheeks flushing. “Maybe I’ll just sleep in it. Let it dry. Pretend it never happened.”

You groan, head tilting back against the pillows. “Fuck, babe. Don’t say shit like that unless you want me to go again.”

She giggles, pressing a sleepy kiss to your collarbone. “You’re insatiable,” she murmurs. “It’s kinda hot.”

You roll over, pinning her under you again just to feel the heat of her, the way she immediately gasps, eyes going wide. You don’t even do anything, just hover there, feeling her warmth, the rapid beat of her heart against your chest. Her lips part, her breath catching.

“Insatiable, huh?” you echo, smirking.

She swallows, her fingers curling into your hair, her nails scratching lightly against your scalp. “Yeah,” she whispers. “But I love it.”

Your heart clenches, the way it always does when she says things like that, when she looks at you like you hung the fucking stars just for her. You don’t even realize you’re moving until your lips are on hers, slow, deep, lingering. You kiss her like you’ve got all the time in the world, like you never want to stop. And she melts into it, pressing closer, sighing softly into your mouth.

“I love you so much,” you murmur against her lips, meaning it in a way that makes your chest ache.

She smiles, eyes fluttering open, fingers trailing down your chest. “I love you too,” she whispers, and then—just like that—her hand is back on your cock, stroking slow, lazy, teasing.

You groan, your hips jerking slightly into her grip. She smirks.

“Where do you want to cum?” she asks, all innocent, like she doesn’t already know the answer.

You raise a brow, lips quirking. “Really?”

She tilts her head, her grip tightening just slightly. “What?”

“You already know.”

She hums, pretending to think, but you can see the amusement in her eyes. “On my boobs?”

You grin. “Obviously.”

She sighs, mock dramatic. “You always wanna cum on my boobs.”

“You’re acting like it’s a bad thing.”

She laughs. “Didn’t say that.”

“Good,” you murmur, rolling off her, sitting up at the edge of the bed. “Then get over here.”

Karina follows you and moves, but the second her feet hit the floor, her legs wobble, and she stumbles, catching herself against the mattress.

You snort. “Damn, babe. You good?”

She glares at you, cheeks pink, but she’s grinning. “Shut up,” she mutters. “You did this to me.”

“I know,” you say, smug. “And I love seeing you like this.”

She sticks her tongue out at you before stepping closer, standing between your legs, completely bare, her skin still flushed, her thighs still sticky.

And fuck—you’ll never get tired of looking at her.

She doesn’t say anything, just reaches up, cupping her own breasts, squeezing them together like she knows exactly what it does to you. Her tits are already perfect, full and soft, but like this, pressed together, forming that perfect valley of warmth—fuck.

She meets your gaze, lips curling. “Ready?”

Before you can answer, she leans down slightly, spits between her breasts, letting it drip down before rubbing it in, spreading it, making herself even slicker for you.

Your cock twitches.

“Karina,” you groan, your jaw tightening. “You’re actually trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

She laughs, warm and sweet, but there’s something else in her eyes—something darker, teasing. “Mm,” she hums, pressing your cock between her tits, wrapping them around you in that impossibly soft, perfect warmth. “I’d never.”

Then she starts to move.

She doesn’t rush. She knows exactly how you like it—slow at first, letting the warmth sink in, letting the slick glide over your skin. The pressure is perfect, just tight enough, her tits molding around your cock like they were fucking made for this. She watches your face, gauging every reaction, waiting for that moment your jaw tenses, your breath stutters.

“God, Karina,” you groan, hands finding their way to her shoulders, holding onto her, needing something to ground you.

She smirks, rolling her shoulders slightly to change the angle, pressing you tighter, making your cock slide even smoother between her tits. “Feels good?”

“You fucking know it does.”

She laughs, the sound vibrating through her chest, and you swear you feel it all the way down to your cock. Then, just to drive you insane, she sticks out her tongue, letting the tip just barely brush against your swollen, leaking head every time you thrust forward.

“Fuck,” you hiss, hips jerking involuntarily. “You’re—shit—”

“Hot?” she supplies, teasing.

You groan. “You already know.”

She grins, keeping her movements steady, smooth, effortless. Every glide, every stroke is better than the last, the warmth of her, the way she presses you tighter each time—it’s too fucking much. You know you’re close already, but you don’t wanna stop, don’t wanna let it end.

“How much do you love me?” she asks suddenly, her voice playful, light.

You look down at her, and your chest tightens. She’s smiling, her eyes sparkling, her skin glowing. She looks so happy, so perfect, and in this moment, you don’t think you’ve ever loved anyone more.

You brush her hair back, thumb stroking her cheek. “More than anything,” you murmur. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Her breath catches slightly, just for a second, but then she’s grinning again, pressing her tits even tighter around you. “Then cum for me,” she whispers. “I wanna feel your hot cum on my tits.”

Her tongue flicks out, teasing your tip, licking up the steady drip of precum leaking from you.

“You always make such a mess,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing, her lips just barely grazing your swollen head before she pulls back with a wicked smirk. “Bet you wanna cum all over me, huh?”

You groan, gripping her shoulders tighter. “Karina, fuck—”

She hums in amusement, squeezing her tits together tighter, moving faster. “So desperate,” she coos, tilting her head as she watches your face. “You wanna cum for me, baby? Make a mess all over my tits?”

Your jaw clenches, your whole body coiling up, right fucking there. “Fuck, yeah, I—”

DING-DONG.

Your entire world stops.

The doorbell rings again.

A knock follows almost immediately.

And then, a voice—deep, familiar, fucking horrifying.

“Karina, open the door! We forgot the key.”

Karina’s father.

Your stomach plummets.

Karina freezes, her tits still pressed around your cock, hands gripping herself tightly, pupils blowing wide with pure, unfiltered panic.

Your brain goes static. Every part of you is still humming with the need to cum, and now it’s colliding headfirst into the very real terror of being caught like this—naked, hard as fuck, seconds away from spilling all over her perfect tits while her dad is standing right outside the door.

“Holy fucking shit,” you whisper, heart pounding.

Karina swallows, her mind racing. Then, before you can do anything, she shouts toward the door, her voice just barely steady. “C—coming! Just—uh—give me a second!”

Another knock. Impatient. Firm.

Her mother’s voice now. “We’ve been knocking for a while, sweetie. What are you doing in there?”

Karina’s eyes snap to yours.

And then—

That wild fucking look flashes through them.

“Baby,” she whispers, tits still pressing together around your cock, slick and tight. “Cum. Now.”

You stare at her. “Are you insane?!”

She bites her lip, shifts slightly, rubbing her tits together just right, and your hips jerk forward, completely on instinct. “If you don’t, you’re going to run away from here still hard,” she whispers, voice dripping with something dangerous. “With your cock still leaking, all needy and desperate.”

You groan, throwing your head back, torn between sheer terror and white-hot fucking lust.

“You’re actually insane,” you hiss, body trembling, every inch of you straining toward release even as your fucking life is flashing before your eyes.

She grins. “You love it.”

Then she starts moving again.

Faster this time. Harder.

“You have, like, thirty seconds,” she whispers, squeezing you tighter, pumping her tits up and down around your cock like she’s hell-bent on ruining you. “Better cum fast, baby.”

“Holy—fucking—shit,” you groan, fists clenching in the sheets, your entire body burning.

The knock on the door comes again. “Karina.”

Her father’s voice is sharp now, insistent.

Karina doesn’t even look away. Her breath is hot against your cock, her tongue flicking just barely over your tip every time you thrust between her tits.

“Come on, baby,” she whispers, voice like satin over fire, her tits bouncing in time with her strokes. “You can do it. Just let go for me.”

“Karina—fuck—” You’re so close, your vision blurring at the edges, that sweet fucking burn coiling deep in your stomach.

Karina doesn’t stop.

She doesn’t slow down, doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t flinch—not even with the knock at the door, not even with her father right there, waiting, expecting her to answer. If anything, the urgency only fuels her, makes her hands move faster, makes her press her tits together tighter, makes her mouth filthy as she coaxes you closer to the edge.

“Come on, baby,” she whispers, her voice breathy, desperate, dripping with heat. “Give it to me. I need it.”

Your stomach is a coiled spring, that burning pressure inside you mounting so hard and fast you can barely breathe. The mix of fear, adrenaline, and raw, aching pleasure is making your pulse roar in your ears, every part of you strung tight as a fucking wire.

“You gonna cum for me?” she presses, her tits squeezing, bouncing, slick and warm, wrapped so fucking tight around you.

“Fuck—fuck, yeah—” Your voice is rough, your head tilting back, every nerve in your body locking up as you hit the point of no return.

Karina leans in, her lips just inches from your tip, her tongue flicking out one last time, and in that needy, desperate, breathless voice, she begs—

“Cum for me, baby. Give it to me. I want all of it.”

And that’s it.

That’s the fucking end of you.

Your whole body locks up, a broken groan ripping out of your throat as the pleasure finally fucking snaps. Your cock jerks, your abs tightening as thick, hot spurts spill out, painting Karina’s perfect, heaving chest.

She moans, her breath catching, her eyes dark with hunger as she watches your cum spill over her tits, sliding between the valley of soft, flushed skin.

She doesn’t stop.

She keeps squeezing, her hands milking every last drop, her fingers digging in as she rubs her tits together, making sure she gets it all.

“Fuck, fuck—” You don’t even recognize your own voice anymore, wrecked, your hips jerking weakly, your whole body shaking from how hard you’re cumming. It doesn’t stop, each pulse sending another hot rope onto her skin, dripping down the curve of her breasts, pooling in the dip of her collarbone.

She’s completely covered in you.

Your vision blurs. Your lungs burn. The pleasure is too much, too deep, too fucking intense. Your head spins as the last weak tremors shake through you, every muscle in your body spent.

You sag back onto the mattress, exhaling hard, your heart still slamming against your ribs.

Karina grins, rubbing a finger through the mess, spreading it over her skin, her tongue flicking out to taste a drop of it. “You always cum so much for me,” she purrs.

You’re about to say something—something cocky, something filthy—

But then—

Another knock.

Louder.

“Karina!” Her dad’s voice is sharp now, no longer patient. “What is taking so long?”

Karina’s eyes widen, and suddenly, the reality of the situation slams back into both of you.

Shit. Shit. SHIT.

She whips around, grabbing the nearest thing—a crumpled tissue from her nightstand—and starts wiping herself down, frantically dabbing at her chest, trying to clean up the mess before her parents fucking bust the door down.

She’s panting, her hands shaking slightly as she grabs more, working fast, trying to get rid of every trace. “Baby, you have to go. Now.”

You’re already moving, stumbling to your feet, your limbs still weak, your brain still sluggish from the sheer force of that orgasm. You snatch your clothes off the floor, yanking on your pants with shaking hands, fumbling with the zipper as Karina rushes to her closet, grabbing the first thing she can find—a loose hoodie and some pajama shorts.

“Karina.” Another knock. “We’re waiting!”

She yells back, voice strained. “I’m coming, just—just hold on!”

She pulls the hoodie over her head, wiping her chest one last time before whirling on you. “The window,” she breathes.

You nod, grabbing your shirt, not even bothering to button it as you stumble toward the window, your heart pounding out of your chest.

Karina grabs your arm, pulling you back for one last, hurried kiss, her lips soft, warm, frantic against yours.

“I love you,” she whispers, breathless.

You squeeze her waist, your forehead dropping to hers for half a second before pulling back. “I love you too.”

Then—you’re gone.

You slip out the window, landing hard on the grass outside, your legs still shaky as fuck, your body still buzzing with the lingering aftershocks. You don’t have time to process it—you just move, running quietly, disappearing into the night just as you hear the sound of Karina’s door unlocking behind you, ready to leap into your car and disappear completely.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

That was way too close.

Karina yanks open the door, still breathless, her pulse pounding so loud in her ears she can barely hear her father’s impatient sigh. He’s standing there, arms crossed, brows furrowed, looking at her like she’s already guilty of something. Her mother is behind him, rubbing her temples, looking exhausted and irritated, like the entire day has been one long, drawn-out headache.

“You took your time,” her dad says, stepping inside without waiting for a invitation. His eyes sweep over her, sharp and assessing, and she suddenly feels way too warm in her hoodie.

“I was—uh, I was changing,” she stammers, tucking her hair behind her ear as she follows them into the living room. “Got comfortable and didn’t wanna open the door like that, you know?” She forces a sheepish smile, hoping they don’t hear how unsteady her voice is.

Her father doesn’t seem convinced, but her mother is already waving a dismissive hand, dropping onto the couch with a weary sigh. “It doesn’t matter. We have bigger things to talk about.”

Karina perks up immediately, desperate for anything that’ll shift their attention away from her. “Oh? What happened?”

Her mother exhales sharply, rubbing her temples. “The wedding’s postponed.”

That actually throws her. “Wait, what? Seriously?”

Her dad nods, his jaw tight with irritation. “The priest never showed up.”

Karina blinks. What the hell kind of excuse is that? “What? Why?”

Her mother groans, sinking deeper into the couch like she wants to disappear into it. “Emergency surgery. Can you believe that? Of all the damn days, he picks today to have a medical crisis.”

Karina presses her lips together, trying so hard not to laugh. “Uh. That sucks.”

“Sucks?” Her dad snorts. “That’s one way to put it. Half the guests had already arrived, the reception was prepped, and then we get told—‘sorry, no priest, no wedding.’” His scowl deepens, shaking his head. “It’s a disaster.”

“Total nightmare,” her mother agrees, sighing. “And now we have to wait for them to reschedule the wedding. We will have to reorganize everything again—ugh, I don’t even want to think about it.”

Karina nods sympathetically, even though she barely cares. She’s just grateful they aren’t questioning her right now. “Yeah. That’s… awful. Really awful.”

But then her father’s eyes narrow slightly, lingering on her face. “Why are you blushing?”

Karina freezes. She didn’t even realize she was. Heat is practically radiating off her, her cheeks still flushed from everything that happened minutes ago, her body still tingling in the aftermath.

“I—I’m blushing?” she asks, stalling. “Really?” She presses a hand to her cheek like she’s just now noticing, playing dumb. “Huh. I guess I got warm running around getting dressed.”

Her dad squints at her, clearly unconvinced, but before he can push any further, her mom frowns at something behind her.

“What’s your shirt doing on the couch?”

Karina whips around, stomach dropping through the floor.

There it is. The shirt she was wearing earlier. The one she was wearing while you were fucking her on that very couch. The one she took off, carelessly tossed aside in the heat of the moment, and completely forgot about.

Her brain stalls, panic roaring through her.

“I—” She swallows hard. “I guess I just—forgot to pick it up.”

Her father frowns, shaking his head. “You know we don’t like clothes scattered around the house.”

“I know, I know.” She forces a nervous laugh, grabbing it so fast it’s almost suspicious. “Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.”

Her dad just gives her a look, but thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else. Her mom sighs again, waving a dismissive hand. “Whatever. Just put it in the laundry.”

“Yep, will do,” Karina says quickly, turning to escape before something else goes wrong. But just as she’s about to flee the scene, her father’s voice stops her.

“Hold on.”

She stiffens. Turns back way too slowly.

“What?”

Her dad’s expression is unreadable, but there’s a strange sharpness in his voice now. “On our way here, I noticed a car parked down the street.”

Karina’s stomach tightens. “Yeah?”

Her dad nods. “Looked a lot like the car that guy you used to date drove.”

Her breath catches, but she forces herself to play dumb. “Oh?” she says, as casually as she can. “Uh. You sure?”

Her dad narrows his eyes slightly. “Yeah. Same model, same color.”

Karina shakes her head quickly. “I mean, that’s a pretty common car. Could’ve been anyone’s.”

Her dad doesn’t look fully convinced. “Maybe.” Then, before she can stop him, he gestures toward the door. “Come outside with me. Let’s check.”

Karina’s heart slams against her ribs. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

She hesitates just a second too long before nodding quickly. “Yeah. Sure.”

They step out onto the porch, the streetlights casting long shadows over the pavement. Her father looks around, scanning the parked cars along the curb, eyes sharp, searching. Karina barely breathes, her stomach twisting into knots. If your car is still there, she’s fucked. She follows his gaze, trying not to look as panicked as she feels, praying. But when they look—Nothing. No car.

You’re gone.

She barely stops herself from sagging in relief, instead turning to her father with a casual shrug. “See? Nothing there.”

He frowns slightly, looking around like he doesn’t quite believe it, but after a moment, he just mutters, “Guess I was wrong.”

Before Karina can fully celebrate surviving this, her mother’s voice cuts through the night, sharp and exhausted. “What the hell are you two doing out there? Get inside!”

Karina nods quickly, practically bolting for the door, her father following behind, still looking a little suspicious but thankfully dropping it.

This time, she actually escaped.

Barely.

—

Your phone buzzes just past midnight, Karina’s name lighting up the screen. You don’t even hesitate, answering immediately, her voice coming through the line soft but amused.

“Hey,” she whispers, and you can hear the rustle of sheets in the background. She’s in bed, probably curled up under the covers, trying not to wake anyone.

“Hey, baby,” you murmur back, your voice just as low. “You okay?”

She exhales a quiet laugh. “I survived. Barely.”

You smirk, shifting onto your back, getting comfortable. “Yeah? What happened?”

Karina sighs, like she’s replaying the whole thing in her head. “My dad was suspicious as hell. He saw your car on the street and wanted to go check, but by some miracle, you were already gone. If you’d been there even a second longer—” She cuts herself off, and you can practically hear her shudder on the other end.

“Damn,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Close call.”

“Way too close,” she agrees, her voice dipping lower. “And then my mom found my shirt on the couch—the one I took off while we were, you know… and I had to pretend I just forgot to put it away. My dad was already looking at me weird, and then she asked why I was blushing, and I had nothing. No excuse. Just standing there like a idiot while I could still feel your—” She stops herself, groaning softly. “God. The whole thing was a disaster.”

You chuckle, amused at how frazzled she sounds now that it’s over. “But you pulled it off. Got away with it again.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, a hint of pride in her voice. “I always do.”

You smirk, shifting the phone against your ear. “And what about the mess?”

“What mess?” she asks, and then realization hits. “Oh. That.”

You snort. “Yeah, that. What’d you do with the squirt-stained bed, babe?”

She groans. “Ugh. I had to change everything. Sheets, pillowcases, everything went straight into the washing machine the second my parents went to bed. The mattress was safe, thank god. I think if I ruined my bed like that, I’d have to just set it on fire and move away.”

You laugh, picturing her rushing around, cleaning up, making sure there was no evidence left behind. It’s ridiculous, the lengths you both go to just to be together, but there’s something kind of thrilling about it too.

“You’re such a menace,” you tease.

“Says the guy who made me do that in the first place,” she fires back.

You grin. “Worth it?”

She pauses, then hums. “So worth it.”

You both fall quiet for a moment, the comfortable silence stretching between you. You love this—these little stolen moments, these late-night calls where you can just exist together, even if it’s only through the phone.

“You seeing me tomorrow?” you ask, knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say it.

“Mhm,” she murmurs, voice warm. “Cinema, remember? Told my parents I’m going with a friend.”

You smirk. “We should really start keeping track of how many lies you’ve told just to see me.”

She giggles. “At this point, it’s gotta be in the triple digits.”

“Totally worth it.”

“Absolutely,” she agrees, voice soft.

“Get some sleep, baby,” you murmur. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Mm. Night, babe.”

You both hesitate, neither of you wanting to hang up first, but eventually, Karina whispers one last “love you” before ending the call.

The next day, you meet her outside the cinema, standing near the entrance, watching as she walks toward you. She’s wearing something simple—just jeans and a cute cropped hoodie—but she looks gorgeous, her hair down, her face lit up with that familiar mischievous smile.

“Hey, troublemaker,” you greet, grinning.

She rolls her eyes but laughs. “Says you.”

You tuck your hands into your pockets, smirking. “Our life is a goddamn adventure at this point.”

Karina snorts. “No kidding. I feel like I should start journaling everything before we end up in a documentary.”

You chuckle, reaching for her hand, pulling her close. “Yeah? You like the adrenaline rush?”

She pretends to think about it for a second, then grins. “I kinda do.”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head, watching her expression.

She leans in slightly, her voice quieter. “But I think what I like more is just… being with you. Even if it means sneaking around and making up a thousand excuses.”

Your heart clenches a little, warmth spreading through your chest. You squeeze her fingers, giving her a knowing smile. “You won’t have to lie forever.”

She nods, eyes flickering with something softer, more serious. “College is almost over. Once we’re out of here… nothing can separate us.”

You love the way she says it, like it’s a promise. Like there’s no doubt in her mind.

“Nothing,” you agree.

She smiles, pulling you toward the entrance. “Now, come on. We actually have to watch the movie, or my parents are gonna ask for a recap later.”

You chuckle, following her inside, feeling that familiar buzz of excitement—not just from sneaking around, not just from the thrill of getting away with it again, but from knowing that college is almost over. The endless rules, the curfews, the constant risk of getting caught—it’s all temporary. Soon, you won’t have to make excuses. You won’t have to sneak out of windows. It’ll just be you and Karina, no secrets, no hiding. Just the future waiting for you.

And honestly? You can’t fucking wait.

[rosesdrop]

Pick a pile: Your current blessings

Pile 1:

You seem to be so calm in spite of all the noises around you, many outside influences ask for your attention , you make sure to stay out of reach to avoid unwanted situations. This has made your blessings and manifestations increase in quantity and speed, you are so sure of your self and grounded in your own sense of happiness and fulfillment, this in itself is a whole grand blessing, you don't stress upon undesired outcomes, you've learned to do that and the results of your hard work are showing. If you have a pet it's is a form of a blessing in your life, if you don't then maybe animals bring you happiness and connecting with them brings you a deep sense of peace. You are so kind to others, and this comes back you into blessings that are received by you unexpectedly. Most of your blessings come to you when you least expect it, and in time of scarcity and lack, your attitude towards being always grateful grants you passage into much fulfilling and happy times.

Pile 2:

Pile 2 may count their previous blessings and mourn over the loss of them, you may feel that they have been snatched away from you or that you had before more than you have now. But this period of elongated stagnation may bear fruits for later era of flourishement, you are probably anxious about having desired outcomes as soon as possible because you are tired of having to wait forever. It will be a long journey for you and your period of introspection will take over for a while, this is huge for you and it is very important no matter what, even if you don't see results right away, you'll have to work out your personal will and then what is right for you will come with effort and be more fulfilling for you in that way.

Pile 3:

Your currents blessings come in the form of your outstanding ability to perfectly understand and fix all situations, you are very observant and your ability to spot defaults faster than most people takes you ahead two more steps. Others may notice that you are naturally blessed and this may attract some envy from their side, they think you are spoiled by the universe while they don't really see how much effort and bravery it takes you behind closed doors. People like those will never get to see or live what you experience, this is your blessing and will forever be a special thing about you. You always outshine others even if you don't see it. Too many people want to experience what it's like to be you, and you leave an unforgettable trace on others all while you are unaware of it. This is your gift and will always be a distinctive thing about you.

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Young and Beautiful"

Prologue

ya'll, I cannot sleep with my arm in this stupid cast, so i started rereading "the great Gatsby" (my comfort book) and i got this idea. i know, i know, i have 3 unfinished fics buttttttt i'm injured and this is my blog and i have free will so i'm writing this. This is yandere romantic batboys and bruce x reader. BUT set in the roaring 20's. Send in asks, requests, ideas, and just what you think about this! Likes, comments, reblogs and asks are encouraged and keep me going! Love yall <333. This is written in 1st person, reader is recalling events in her journal. This is a rough draft for the prologue! Sorry if it doesnt make sense, i'm high off pain meds writing this bc i'm BORED.

The first time I saw Jason Todd, he was nothing to me Just another boy in my father’s estate, covered in dirt, hands rough from labor, his bruised knuckles proof of a fight he hadn’t won. His blue eyes were sharp, full of something wild, something untamed, something that made you bristle, the kind of fire you knew to stay away from, even at 12 years old.

The first time I spoke to Jason Todd, two years after I saw him, I thought he was filth.

He was a boy covered in dirt, his hands stained with mud and the smell of horses, his knuckles raw from a fight he clearly hadn’t won. His face was sharp, bruised, skinny and too wild for someone who worked under my father’s name. He was nothing, just another street rat lucky enough to be given work in my father’s stables, another nameless stray that old Mr. Wilkes had dragged in from the gutters of Gotham. He smelled like sweat, hay, and something sharp, something angry.

I was fourteen years old and wore pearls around my throat, a silk dress with delicate lace at the sleeves. My father’s estate stretched over rolling green fields, our mansion standing tall like something out of a dream. My mother’s hands were soft, her perfume sweet, and I had never known hunger or want. My world was a world of glittering lights and expensive champagne, of high society and grand parties, of people who smiled with their teeth but whispered behind painted fans.

Jason Todd did not belong in my world.

Yet, somehow, he slipped in like a stain on silk.

We met on the back steps of the estate, where the stable boys cut through to the gardens. I was waiting for my automobile when he nearly ran into me, boots dragging dust over my polished shoes.

Jason Todd? He was filth beneath my shoes.

Or at least, that’s what I told myself.

Because the first time I met him, he nearly ran into me.

He didn’t bow like other servants did, he didn’t apologize profusely and beg for forgiveness.

He barely even looked at me before muttering, “Watch it,” like I was in his way.

I had never been spoken to like that in my life.

I hated him immediately.

I took a startled step back, wrinkling my nose at the smell of sweat, hay, and horse.

The nerve.

I straightened my back like Daddy told me to when I wanted to look serious and I tilted my chin up as I stared down at him. "Excuse me?"

Jason smirked, slow and lazy, eyes glinting with amusement. "Did I stutter?"

I had never wanted to slap someone so badly.

Instead, I remember turning and walked away, forgetting my plans of going into town, heels clicking sharply against the stone, vowing to never look at him again and to hate him forever, no matter how handsome he was,.

That vow didn’t last long, especially when he took off his shirt.

Jason was everywhere.

I saw him at the stables, his shirtless back slick with sweat, muscles shifting under tanned skin as he worked. I saw him sneaking apples from the kitchen, disappearing into the trees, laughter on his lips. I saw him in the streets, fists flying, always coming back with fresh bruises, always alive in a way no one else was.

And then, you heard about him.

"That stable boy got into another fight," the maids whispered. "Damn near killed the other boy, apparently the other kid got smart about his lady."

At the time, I thought the strange burning feeling in my gut was disgust at even hearing Jason's name. Now I know, what I felt was pure jealousy, not knowing the 'lady' Jason nearly killed a boy over was me.

"He’s trouble," my mother warned when I asked about him at dinner. "Keep away from him, sweetheart."

"He won’t last long here," my mother sighed. "That kind of boy never does, no matter how much of a soft spot your father has for him."

My father pitied Jason, told me I oughta be nicer to him like I am to the other workers (he would regret that statement soon.)

He had no one. No mother, no father, no family, nothing but the clothes on his back and determination. He had what my father called "the look of a man who'd rather die than fail" and my father respected that.

But Jason did last.

I hated him.

Hated the way he smirked at me from across the gardens, like he knew something I didn’t.

I hated the way he never bowed, never apologized, never treated me like the others did.

I hated that when I was alone, when my father’s friends spoke about marrying me off to the sons of their business partners, I thought of Jason Todd instead.

The first conversation I had with Jason Todd was after I had fought with my father.

It was about marriage. About duty. About a boy I didn’t love.

I ran into the garden dramatically ignoring my father's desperate calls, pearls at my throat, tears in my eyes.

And Jason was already there.

Sprawled under an oak tree, cigarette between his lips, watching me like he’d been waiting for this moment all his life.

"You rich girls cry over the dumbest shit," he muttered.

I whipped around. "What did you just say to me?" How dare he speak to me like I was any other girl, like this wasn't my home, like he didn't work for my father.

Jason pushed himself up, boots kicking up dirt as he smirked. "You ever go to bed hungry?"

My breath caught. He had a point, you were privileged.

"Ever steal to survive?" His voice was low, teasing, sharp. "Ever wake up in the morning and wonder if you’ll still have a roof over your head by sundown?"

I didn’t answer, for the first time in years I felt something close to shame.

Jason tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with resentment. "Didn’t think so, princess."

I hated him. He made me feel childish. He humbled me. He burst my perfect bubble.

And I loved him for it.

I loved him for making you feel something real.

And that was the beginning of everything.

I loved Jason Todd.

I loved him when he me you out of the house at midnight and made me ride my horse bareback through the fields.

I loved him when he knocked the rich boy who called me a tease's teeth out.

I loved him when he threw pebbles at my window on the third floor and scaled the walls to my balcony.

I loved him when he kissed me for the first time at 14 under the summer stars, hands gripping my waist, mouth desperate against mine.

"You’re my Jason, my Jaybird," I whispered against his lips. Corny, but nothing felt better to say, especially when I saw his face.

Jason smiled like I had given him the whole damn world.

And he? He was my whole world.

When Jason was seventeen and I was fifteen, he walked into my father’s grand house, dressed in his best suit, nervous but determined and proud, his hands clean for once, his boots polished.

He asked my father for my hand in marriage. He asked my father for my hand and I thought he would say yes. Daddy always thought he was a hard worker, called him a real good sport.

He stood before my father and said, “I love her, sir. I’ll make her happy. Give me a chance. I ain't got much now, but one day I will. I'll give her what she's got and more.”

My father just laughed.

“Boy,” he said, shaking his head, “she’s not meant for men like you.”

Jason left that night, whispering a promise against my skin.

"I’ll come back for you, I'll be great. Be a man like how your daddy wants, rich and proper, he'll have to say yes."

I waited, god knows I did.

I wrote letters to the last address he gave me every single day.

For five years. Till I turned twenty. I never looked at another man, I had my Jason.

I waited for him to reply, fought off suitors and pressure from my mother. I waited for a reply, that he was coming soon, that he missed me.

I waited.

And my Jaybird never came back.

My father loved me.

He regretted turning Jason away five years later, when I still refused to marry. He never forced me to marry, not even when the years passed and my suitors grew frustrated with my refusals.

He saw my misery, my longing and admitted, “I should’ve said yes. I should’ve let you have him.”

He thought my Jason was a passing infatuation, he wondered what people would say about his daughter marrying the stable boy.

He wished he saw my love for Jason sooner.

But love wasn’t enough to keep the debt collectors away.

I knew something was wrong when my father began to look stressed, when my parents began to argue, and when I heard my mother cry herself to sleep after selling her favorite pearls.

My father was going to loose everything all at once.

The steel business wasn't what it used to be.

And then suddenly, Bruce Wayne arrived like a knight in shining armor.

He was older than me, 18 years my senior. Refined, powerful, and dangerously charming.

And most importantly, rich. He was exactly what I needed to stop my family's fall from grace.

Bruce courted me like a gentleman.

He sent roses every morning, took me to the finest restaurants, whispered in my ear about a future where I would never want for anything again.

He was patient.

He never forced me to love him.

He only asked for one thing.

"Let me take care of you."

I kept Bruce waiting for three months. All I could do was think of Jason. I knew he was not returning, that he either was dead or found some other pretty girl to make promises to.

I told myself love was not enough to fill an empty stomach and keep my parents happy like they did for me.

I told myself that Jason Todd was not coming back to save me, yet each morning I woke up waiting for a letter or pebbles thrown at my window.

After four months of courting, I decided.

And at twenty, I became Mrs. Bruce Wayne.

Jason Todd never sent me a single letter, but I still dreamed of my Jaybird even as I looked at the massive ring on my finger.

OKKKKK SO WHAT YA'LL THINK??? CONTINUE OR DELETE??? FLOP OR BOP? SEND IN ASKS!!!! I MISS YALL! THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING ROMANCE W JASON AND BRUCE. I REALLY LIKE THIS AU!!!! WHAT DO YALL THINK IS GONNA HAPPEN? SORRU IF IT SUCKS OR DOESNT MAKE SENSE, I'M SO HIGH BRO.

BE NICE PLEASE, I'M IN PAIN! THIS IS NOT EDITED OR PROOF READ.

[iamgonnagetyouback-recs]

SIRIUS BLACK.ᐟ

a little list of my favorite stories ୨ৎ remember to be kind, reblog, and support the wonderful authors who share their magic with us.ᐟ

NOTE ಇ. none of these stories belong to me ♡ if you’d like your fic removed, just send me a message, and i’ll take care of it!

date by @sun-kissy

⁀➴༯ sirius for some reason thinks you have a crush on regulus

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh my god the tension in this had me actually holding my breath, san. sirius being all dramatic and broody while reader is just exhausted with potions?? perfect. but then the confrontation?? my heart hurt for both of them. sirius being jealous and insecure and reader being so confused but so soft when she realizes what's happening. and the james/regulus mention?? peak comedy. the ending was so sweet, i'm actually kicking my feet

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

forever by @/sun-kissy

⁀➴༯ you're cold, and you're in love with sirius

REVIEW ୨ৎ this was absolutely gorgeous. the tenderness, the pining, the way every little movement is soaked in love—it’s stunning. you have such a delicate way of writing sirius, san, i love it! the smoking detail was such a perfect addition—how he doesn’t put it out but still adjusts for you, how you bought an ashtray just for him. it’s intimate in the way that truly knowing someone is intimate. and that cuddle request??? i nearly stopped breathing. the way reader braces for rejection only to be met with sirius’ sure, get over here, babe—it wrecked me. and then the way he pulls her closer, holds her like it’s second nature? absolutely everything. “my arms have no curfew, sweetheart. they’re content to hold you as long as you please.” —i’m going to be thinking about that line for days. i’m in awe.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

right where i want to be by @appocalipse

⁀➴༯ it's only when lily accidentally spills amortentia on you and all you can smell is cigarettes and dog fur that you realize you're in love with sirius — probably the only person in the world you shouldn't be in love with

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh this hurts in the best way. the slow, creeping realization, the way sirius just knows and won’t let her run from it, the tension??? i’m actually losing my mind. the teasing, the softness, the way he says i want you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world??? i need to lie down. no one disturb me, except maybe you amy cause well you wrote this

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

shy!reader by @moonstruckme

⁀➴༯ bf!sirius teasing reader about something, and it actually hurts her feelings quite a lot? maybe she's always thought she's to shy for him, and he teases her about being quiet and it just hurts so much that he sees her just like everyone else does? like she thought he understood her, but instead he's teasing her about something she's really insecure about

REVIEW ୨ৎ this is so soft i could cry. sirius just knows her, and even when he messes up, he listens, he cares. the way he apologizes??? instantly, genuinely, with no ego—i’m in love. and the way he tucks her into his space so easily, so naturally, like she belongs there??? i’m melting. i now identify as a puddle of tears from all this fluffiness

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

clingy!sirius by @inkdrinkerworld

⁀➴༯ sirius being clingy and your friends teasing you guys

REVIEW ୨ৎ this is the most disgustingly adorable thing i’ve ever read. sirius is just so in love and unashamed about it, and everyone else is exasperated but also just accepting of his dramatics. like yeah, of course he buries himself under her shirt like a needy puppy, what else is new?? i am weak

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

kids by @/inkdrinkerworld

⁀➴༯ you are unsure about having kids

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh this is so soft i actually can’t breathe. the way they’re so open with each other and sirius just listens???? no judgment, just love???? and the way he reassures her without trying to change her mind??? “we can keep our family just like this” i’m actually going to cry. and then the stupid little “and a cat” moment like please. and him being like “i don’t think i could put someone over you” like sir. that is the most sirius black thing i’ve ever heard. i love them so much this fic is everything

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

i got you first by @thatdammchickennugget

⁀➴༯ "if i scare you tonight, you'll owe me a kiss." with sirius black but in the end he ends up getting scared

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh, this is delicious. sirius trying so hard to get a reaction out of her, only for her to completely turn the tables on him?? absolutely love. and that moment in the maze? when she flips the game on him, and he just folds under her touch?? yeah. that man is gone. completely and utterly wrecked by her. the way he just stares and then that lazy grin—i swear, i felt that in my soul. also, the fact that their first kiss isn't rushed or desperate, but soft and slow? sirius black, you are in love. and so am i with this fic

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

sober feelings by @lovemenotts

⁀➴༯ bsf!reader with him out of the blue suggesting 'what if we kiss but not in a dating way?'

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh my god. oh my god. this was everything. the casual suggestion like it’s nothing while my heart is combusting?? sirius being all cocky but then immediately spiraling after??? the way he was so worried the next day i'm gonna cry. and then the confession??? i am on the floor. “we should’ve kissed as friends a long time ago” sirius please be serious about me next

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

yellow hearts by @nottswitch

⁀➴༯ the times you put yellow hearts around his name, and the times he put them around yours

REVIEW ୨ৎ this was so soft i’m actually going to cry. the progression from absolute mortification to comfort and love??? sirius teasing but also so gentle???? the yellow hearts showing up again and again??? and the honeymoon bit oh my god. their bickering is so stupid and adorable and so them. the fact that they get their little happy ending and it’s literally framed in yellow hearts. i’m unwell

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

bad dog by @lupinsversion

⁀➴༯ sirius has a bad habit of flirting with others, especially in front of his girlfriend. has she finally had enough?

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh he DESERVED that bonk on the head. “bad dog” is actually the funniest and most fitting reaction ever. like yes, he’s sirius black, of course he’s going to be a little shit about flirting, but also? he needs to learn. and i love that james and remus are calling him out too because yeah, it’s “harmless” but it’s also not harmless when it clearly hurts his girlfriend. sirius sulking about it and realizing he actually feels bad?? good. let him sit in his wrongness and learn from it. this was so well done, i loved it but ahem mak i think i speak for all when i say part is needed

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

a marauders guide to siblings by @ellecdc

REVIEW ୨ৎ this was absolutely delightful. james potter and his love for love, his pure dedication to making this triple date happen—it’s so him. the way he just won’t take no for an answer, and how everyone else is reluctantly dragged into his chaos, is peak marauders energy. and the dialogue? oh mama. i love how everyone interacts here, from sirius being completely against it because of the “googly eyes” problem, to remus and regulus just being exasperated with the entire situation. and the moment james finally gets what he wants, only to immediately start overthinking it and worrying about the sibling connections?? absolutely hilarious. and sirius being all soft for reader, saying she was worth the nonsense? perfect. this was so fun to read, i adored every second of it!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmain blog ￫ @iamgonnagetyouback

[phoenixrisingastro]

Saturn in the Houses: "Discipline, Depravity & the Chains You’ll Never Escape"

Saturn is not soft.

Saturn does not seduce.

Saturn binds. Saturn controls. Saturn twists the knife and makes you beg for mercy.

And in your natal chart, Saturn is where you will suffer the most.

Not just suffer—but be humiliated, punished, and made to crawl through broken glass until you learn the lesson.

Saturn is the Master. You are the Servant.

But if you learn to bow to it?

One day, you might just become the Master yourself.

And if you don’t?

You will remain Saturn’s plaything forever.

Saturn in the 1st House: The Cold Beauty, The Untouchable Force

You were born with a weight on your shoulders. A heaviness that others sense before they even meet you.

There is something forbidding about you. Something that makes people nervous.

You command respect—or you command fear.

You had to grow up too soon. You were not allowed to be weak.

You are hard on yourself—nothing is ever enough, least of all you.

You are unapproachable, untouchable, and impossible to read.

And deep down? You love it.

You love the way they hunger for your approval.

You love the way they can’t get close to you.

Because Saturn in the 1st House means no one owns you.

You are your own Master.

And you will die before you let anyone else take control.

Saturn in the 2nd House: The Slave to Desire, The One Who Will Never Have Enough

No matter how much you earn, you never feel secure.

No matter how much you take, you never feel full.

Saturn in the 2nd House means you were born hungry.

Hungry for wealth, for stability, for something that feels real.

You have known deprivation. You have known loss.

You do not trust that anything will last—because it never has before.

You fight for security with a desperation only the starving can understand.

And here’s the cruel joke:

Even when you have it, you won’t feel safe.

Because Saturn in the 2nd House means the fear never leaves.

You will chase, conquer, and hoard—

But you will never stop feeling like the beggar in the street.

Saturn in the 3rd House: The Silent Observer, The Mastermind

Words are power.

And Saturn has made you master them—or fear them.

Maybe you were the quiet child. The one who watched, listened, and learned.

Maybe you were the one who was never heard, never understood, never believed.

But one day, something changed.

You realized words can build—and words can destroy.

And now?

You do not speak lightly. Every word you say is calculated, deliberate, lethal.

Your silence is a weapon, and when you finally choose to speak? It is a death sentence.

People underestimate you. They think they can outsmart you. They always regret it.

Saturn in the 3rd House makes you dangerous.

Because while they were talking?

You were learning how to manipulate them all.

Saturn in the 4th House: The Haunted, The Child That Was Never Loved

Your childhood was not soft.

Your home was not safe.

Saturn in the 4th House means you grew up knowing that love is conditional, that warmth can be taken away, that security is a lie.

And so now?

You build walls so high no one will ever climb them.

You have learned to never need, never ask, never rely.

You crave love but you do not trust it.

Because Saturn in the 4th House taught you that love is a trap.

So now you let them in just enough to taste you—

And then you leave them starving.

Because you will never need anyone again.

Saturn in the 5th House: The Star That Burned Too Soon, The Pleasure That Comes With Pain

You were meant to shine. But Saturn dimmed your light.

Maybe you were a child prodigy—who was never allowed to just be a child.

Maybe you were creative—but never given the space to explore it.

Maybe you wanted love—but learned that love comes with rules, expectations, punishments.

Now?

You crave adoration, attention, the spotlight—but you do not trust it.

You withhold pleasure from yourself. You make yourself earn every scrap of happiness.

You are afraid of love, because love has always felt like a test you would never pass.

Saturn in the 5th House means you were born to seduce, to create, to captivate.

But first, you have to stop punishing yourself for wanting to be seen.

Saturn in the 6th House: The Body as a Battlefield, The One Who Works Until They Break

You do not stop.

You do not rest.

You do not allow weakness.

Saturn in the 6th House means you are your own oppressor.

You work until exhaustion, demand perfection, push yourself until something snaps.

Your body remembers every slight, every wound, every trauma.

Your mind is a machine that never shuts down.

You believe that if you stop, you will fall apart.

And maybe you will.

Because Saturn in the 6th House means you never learned how to just exist.

You only know how to prove, achieve, and punish yourself for never being enough.

Saturn in the 7th House: The Lover That Was Never Meant to Be Touched

Love was never easy for you.

Because Saturn in the 7th House means love has always been a war.

You attract partners who test you, challenge you, restrict you.

You feel like love is something you have to earn.

You push people away—or they push you away first.

And yet?

You crave devotion.

You want something deep, lasting, unshakable.

But Saturn in the 7th House means love comes at a cost.

And sometimes, the price is your own heart.

Saturn in the 8th House: The One Who Has Known Death & Still Kept Walking

You have lost things most people could never survive.

Saturn in the 8th House means you have stared into the abyss.

And it has stared back.

You have suffered. But you have learned how to use your pain as power.

You have been destroyed. But you have risen again.

You have died a thousand times. But you will never die for good.

Because Saturn in the 8th House means you are a survivor.

A monster, a god, a legend.

And no one—

Not even Saturn itself—

Can take that away from you.

And that is what they will never understand.

Saturn tried to break you.

And you let it.

But it forgot one thing:

You were always meant to be unbreakable.

Saturn in the 9th House: The Seeker That Will Never Arrive

You were born asking too many questions.

You were told to sit down, be quiet, follow the rules.

But you never obeyed.

Because Saturn in the 9th House means you were born to wander—

But you were shackled to a world that was too small for you.

Maybe you had teachers who doubted you, restricted you, mocked your mind.

Maybe your family tried to break your spirit, your dreams, your need for more.

Maybe the world itself has felt like a prison—one you cannot seem to escape.

But here’s the truth Saturn doesn’t want you to know:

You are not meant to stay in one place.

Not physically, not mentally, not spiritually.

Saturn does not want you to leave the tower.

But if you can break its chains, you will see the entire kingdom.

Saturn in the 10th House: The King Without a Crown, The One Who Must Rule or Be Ruled

You were born to be something.

Something powerful, something lasting, something that will be remembered.

But Saturn in the 10th House means you will suffer for it first.

You were not handed success. You had to crawl, fight, and bleed for every inch of it.

You feel like you are never enough, never respected, never seen.

You are your own worst critic—because Saturn has made you believe that if you are not perfect, you are nothing.

And so you push.

And you climb.

And you break yourself against the weight of your own expectations.

Because Saturn in the 10th House does not give power freely.

You must take it.

And one day?

You will.

But only if you can learn to stop punishing yourself for wanting more..

Saturn in the 11th House: The Outsider, The Puppet Master, The One Who Watches From the Shadows

You have always been different.

And the world has always reminded you of it.

Saturn in the 11th House means you do not belong.

Not in groups, not in friendships, not even in the places you once called home.

You are always on the outside looking in.

You do not trust easily—because you have been burned before.

You crave connection, but you refuse to be vulnerable.

And yet?

You understand people better than they understand themselves.

Because Saturn has forced you to watch, learn, and study them from afar.

And now?

You are the one who holds the strings.

You do not belong to the world—

The world belongs to you.

Saturn in the 12th House: The Cursed, The One Who Will Never Be Free

You carry the weight of a thousand past lives.

A thousand regrets.

A thousand ghosts whispering in your ear.

Saturn in the 12th House means your suffering is ancient.

It does not come from this life alone.

It comes from every life before this one.

You feel haunted, isolated, lost in a world that does not understand you.

You have known betrayal, sacrifice, and the kind of pain that cannot be spoken.

You are drowning in a past you cannot remember—but it remembers you.

But here is your choice:

Will you break the cycle?

Or will you become the ghost that haunts another lifetime?

Because Saturn in the 12th House means your suffering is not a punishment—

It is a test.

And if you can pass it?

You will finally be free..

Saturn is the Master.

But you?

You are the one who gets to decide if you will be its prisoner—

Or its god.

© PhoenixRisingAstro, 2025. All rights reserved

[forgetfulfish]

I think as well it's the spiraling horror of the way the tasks get more and more mundane. The viewer sees Gabby's situation and they're jarred by how screwed up it is. Severance for personal and selfish reasons. Then they emphasise the reality of this kind of existence so blatantly with Wellington Gemma's "I was just here", going to the dentist over and over again.

This image of the ultra rich handing off uncomfortable things goes from childbirth, to the dentist, to airplane turbulence. People so devoid of humanity they would in a literal way slice off a part of their own self and use it to avoid all pain and discomfort. However, the airplane amps it up a level of bizarreness, because that's a discomfort that is already fully avoidable. Countless nervous flyers every day take a sleeping tablet on a flight. Checking out of the concious world on a flight is already an option, so what's the appeal? That one could stay awake and converse and keep up appearances while on the flight? There's no possible reason that isn't entirely based on keeping up appearances. There's a whole other more ethical way to avoid that discomfort right there. The situation has spiraled from selfishly avoiding pain and locking that poor innie in the cabin 3 times, to the Wellington Gemma that ensures endless dental procedures to allow an outie to avoid even the most routine and trivial uncomfortable procedures, to keeping a person eternally on an airplane to avoid showing any even perceived weakness or fear. We've seen what having only the severed floor does to the Lumon innies, even with other innies around and diconnected from the outside world. Now scale that down to an airplane but there's nobody who understands you and you're never really anywhere always in the sky. Always expected to socialise with outies like you aren't even an innie. Gabby's innie wouldn't admit to being one, she put up a front, it's a reasonable jump to assume that's what will be expected of them.

And then they show the Christmas room. An innie created to avoid writing thank you notes at Christmas. A person who exists solely so that one would not have to go to the effort of actual human connection. But it goes deeper than that, this is a task one could pay an assistant to do for them. Any person who doesn't give a damn about thank you notes and can afford an optional brain surgery like severance could probably outsource this task with ease. Heck, a thank you note is something you could just forego entirely. But no, they think that one must keep up an appearance of gratitude, of a hand written thank you note, and they see no issue having one woman write forever so that they can have that. And this one scene hammers home the goal of keeping up appearances because the innie is expected to return their spouse's declartion of love. The innie must behave as the outie spouse would. A big cultural holiday that's meant to be about spending time with family is turned into her constant suffering all in the name of the outie avoiding being even slightly inconvenience having to perform a kind gesture. And what better framing for the corporatisation of human feeling than Christmas, a holiday famously intensely corporatised.

We went from singular rich lady selfisly offloads her suffering, to avoiding routine medical procedures by having a person go through them endlessly, to having somebody locked eternally in a vehicle simply to save face, to creating an innie to avoid anything that is even mildly annoying and in doing so turning what should be a relatively mundane task for the outie into an infinitely stretching never ending hell for an innie.

The viewer sees the horror of Gabby's innie's situation and the show just takes it lower and lower and lower. Absolute doom spiral of situations and motivations. Quality storytelling.

thats actually crazy. what if you didn't have to be present at the dentist, while on a boring flight. what if someone else (who was you) wrote a bunch of thank you cards until their hand hurt. what if you still felt the pain, but it was their whole life. what if you did immeasurable violence to yourself in a million tiny ways every single day. and that's the bright shining future of severance.

[matchpointfaist]

sheltered art! x flirty reader pt iv

pretty piece of flesh ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

halloween .

not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, art found himself wandering the rooms of a packed frat house, trying his best to steer clear of temptation. ever since he'd had that little taste of you, all the things he once saw as sins, were now just forbidden fruit; temptations dangled before him, calling to him, pulling him in deeper until eventually he'd betray everything he'd been taught, the very things he stood for and used to believe in.

it was halloween night, and he was dressed in chain link with a cheap prop sword dangling on his hip, as he and the tennis team had gone as king arthur and the knights. he found himself looking for you, in that small, subconscious way he'd grown all too comfortable with. sweeping the room for any trace of your hair, or your dark lipstick, or straining his ears for the slightest sound of your laugh.

you hadn't sought him out after that night. he told himself it was a good thing, that this thing between you could only end badly, but he knew it was all a lie. he checked his phone obsessively, eager for just a text from you, a confirmation that he didn't humiliate himself and run you off forever. in the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the thought that he should have known this would happen. you were too good to be true.

in the midst of his self pity, he glanced up as someone said your name, and there you were. like something from heaven, or hell, or wherever the fuck you had to have come from. gone was the dark eyeliner and lipstick, the sultry look you always seemed to have. you were all clean, light colors, innocent little look in your eye. a pretty white dress, fluffy angel wings, and a shimmery halo on your head.

it felt like you were torturing him, mocking his faith, or the faith he'd lost the moment you sank to your knees in front of him. the way you'd said god's name even as his come shined on your lips; he was weak in the knees, in the middle of all his friends, watching you walk over, the memories on a reel in his mind.

"art," you smiled, so sweet, so cloying, "i didn't know you'd be here. cool costume," he tried to remember how to speak normally, how not to give himself away for how depraved he was feeling, "uh, yeah- i got invited. you look beautiful, i mean, i love your costume,"

you laughed, and jesus, your hand was on his arm again. "i thought maybe you'd appreciate it," you smiled, blinking up at him with wide, faux doe eyes, "you think god would mind you being with an angel, art?"

he didn't give a fuck what god minded. he didn't care about anything other than your hand on his arm and the look in your eye and the cross necklace he now recognized as the one he suspiciously couldn't find after your last meeting, now dangled around your neck. he threw faith out the window just as he had the second you entered his bedroom, taking your hand in his and pulling you to a more secluded part of the house, even with his head screaming at him that he was taking this too far.

"you didn't call," he said quietly, "i thought you didn't want to see me, and now you're here and that's my necklace, and what are you doing dressed up like an angel anyway?" he could hear how ridiculous he sounded, like he had any right to demand you call him, like he knew what he was doing when it came to you at all.

"there ya go," you sounded pleased, a small smile on your lips, "knew you'd come out of that shell eventually. you missed me, isn't that right?" and then you were on your tip toes, leaning up to kiss him, so sweet and so dangerous.

he pulled you against him, practically clinging to you, his hands resting under your angel wings and his mouth hungry against yours. "missed you too," you mumbled between kisses, all sloppy and desperate and wrong just right.

he couldn't think, couldn't focus on anything other than this, than your hands wandering over his costume and the way you bit as his bottom lip just enough to make him crazy. and then you were pulling him into one of the bedrooms, and he couldn't say no, couldn't even think that he'd ever wanted anything but this.

he pulled you to the bed, pulling you into his lap, panting against your lips and letting his hands wander wherever he felt like it. he was so tired of being good, of doing the right thing, and you felt so fucking good against him. and god, the sounds you made, the little whimpers between kisses and the way you mumbled his name as you kissed down his neck, biting his collarbone, sucking a bruise into the delicate skin behind his ear.

"want you," he whined as you nipped at the skin, his hips bucking beneath you, "god, please, i'll be so good," you giggled against him, kissing back up to his mouth, "know you'd be good," you sounded almost like you were teasing him, "not gonna take your virginity in a frat guys bedroom, art,"

but then your hands were wandering even lower, pulling down his pants, and he prayed that you didn't mean it, that you'd let him fuck you and finally end this horrible yearning. instead, you left him in his boxers and settled back in his lap, kissing him with a feverish need.

you ground your hips against him, and he could feel the wetness seeping through the cotton of the layers between you, a low groan rumbling in his throat. "how bad do you want it?' you whispered as you trailed your kisses low once again, "tell me, wanna hear you say it," he dug his fingers into your hips, trying to keep some form of composure, "want it so bad, please, just want something-"

you reached down, sliding down his boxers just enough for his cock to slap against his abs, smiling as he sucked in a breath at the feeling. then you settled back into his lap, gently taking him into your hand, and he nearly fainted when you slid him inside your soaked panties, grinding against him.

he gasped, his eyes closing, his teeth digging into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. "oh my god, you're so wet," he groaned, pulling you back and forth against him with shaking hands, "feels so good, i'm-"

"all for you," you grabbed his jaw, pulling him in almost close enough to kiss you, "know you're close, just go ahead," you said it so sweetly, like you really didn't mind, and he felt so bad but you felt so good, he was pulling away in an instant, spilling cum all over your thighs, panting and whining and rutting against your skin.

he rested his head against your chest as he caught his breath, apologizing for making a mess of you, but you waved it off, running your fingers through his hair in a way that almost made him feel like this really meant something to you.

"you didn't finish," he mumbled into your skin, pressing a soft kiss against your chest, "let me- can you show me? wanna make you feel good, too," you shifted off his lap in response, taking one of his hands in yours, "so sweet," you hummed, "come here,"

and then your legs were spread, and your panties were pulled to the side, and he could've died right there and gone straight to heaven. "so beautiful," he hated how in awe he sounded, but he truly was. you felt like a gift from god, a reward for how good he'd been for so long.

you motioned for him to come closer, and he was so close he was nearly whining again, need thrumming in his veins. "tell me what to do," he practically begged, looking up at you through thick lashes, "wanna be good,"

you might've been dressed like an angel, but you felt like some sort of demon, some siren, as art donaldson sat between your thighs, following all your instructions so eagerly, lapping at your cunt like he'd done it a million times before. you knew he'd be good, so eager to please, so sweet and patient. he was so good, such a good man, perfect for you to teach and grow with.

you didn't care about any of that as your hands were fisted in his hair, rocking against his face as he sucked at your clit, little whines leaving his mouth and vibrating against you. he was rutting against the mattress, desperate like he was the one getting head, and that made it so much better.

"gonna- fuck, art, gonna come for you," you moaned, your grip on his hair growing tighter as that only encouraged him more. he was chasing it, hungry for it, so desperate to be good to you. you came with a sharp gasp, your eyes rolling back as he worked the orgasm out of you, so thorough and devoted.

when you were finished, he crawled up to kiss you, his lips wet and shining in the dim bedroom light. "was that- did i do good?" he asked timidly, and you nodded, pulling him down to wrap your arms around his shoulders. "so good," you mumbled, tracing your fingertips down his back, "you're perfect,"

you let yourself fall asleep despite it not even being your house, despite you telling yourself that this was a mistake, sleeping tangled up with art like this.

you'd never slept better.

[gold-onthe-inside]

with love, from reid

who? spencer reid (s8) x blake!reader summary: after a case ruins spencer's carefully planned valentine's date, he does his best to make up for it. but all you needed was him. and all the gifts in the world are nothing compared to yours. word count: 3.3k based on: Valentine’s Day Request - Spencer and his partner are separated for Valentines Day (maybe he went to go visit his mom or he was on a special assignment like in Minimal Loss and a storm grounded flights) but he uses every method possible to give his partner the most amazing Valentines Day ever. a/n: i'm so sorry for sitting on this request forever, but inspiration struck today i guess. hope you like it anon.

Spencer’s not like other guys. It’s the mantra you have to keep using to keep your head on straight. But being cheated on by someone you had been about to marry changes your whole perspective on things. Makes it harder to trust, even the most angelic man you’ve ever met. You have to take a deep breath every time he gets a call from JJ or Penelope, have to remind yourself that there’s a valid reason for every missed date, every morning you wake up without him. Because it’s scary how much you like him, how often you think about him.

The scarce amount of time you both get makes the little moments more important, and he knows it. In his head, he’s been building it up, down to the cardigan he would wear on the 14th. He’s calculated the exact amount of time it takes to get from Quantico to your hospital, chosen a restaurant within walking distance — something right up your alley with exotic food and a quiet atmosphere. He knows how many footsteps it’ll take to get there, how many topics you can cover, all of it, down to miniscule details. The flower arrangements that would wait for you both. The menu he had memorised in his head, knowing exactly what you would order. The average time it would take for you both to finish eating while talking. The train back to his apartment, where your favourite movie would be waiting.

If only he could control this unsub the same way. But they were no closer to finding the unsub on the 13th as they were two days ago. He’d been putting off the call all day, staring at his phone until Alex had pointed it out, unravelling the first stitch of his sealed lips. The seam split and he told her everything — the date he’d planned, the flowers he’d bought in advance, the reservation that was waiting for you. He receives the pat on the knee he’d been expecting from Alex, the promise that you’d be understanding (who would know better than her, really?), and her stern voice telling him to call you.

You can hear the regret in his voice when he calls, the tired fatigue that makes you smile sympathetically. “Did you get home okay?” he asked, scuffing the back of his sneakers against the floor, standing right outside the precinct, stars glittering above him, much brighter in Tennessee than in DC. It’s a whole nother date on his bucket list — going star-gazing with you.

“Yeah, just now,” you replied, and he can see you in his mind’s eye, taking off your boots and neatly arranging them in your rack, keys in a clay dish that an 8 year old had made for you, the crick in your neck that he wants to massage for you. “How about you? Any closer to finding your strangler?”

“No,” he huffs, leaning against the railing. There’s a slight chill in the air, but he can’t feel it, not right now. He just wants to hear your voice. “But that’s not important — I just wanted to make sure you made it home safe.”

You huffed a small laugh, and he can hear you bustling around over the call, maybe changing into your pyjamas, or hunting for ingredients to make a quick dinner for one, and a frustrated ache builds behind his eyes. He wants to be there, with you, listening to old jazz music and making dinner and small talk. “I think I’m in less danger than the FBI agent hunting down a serial killer, honey.”

“You’re always in less danger than I am,” he grumbles, the beginnings of a smile playing at his lip. He closes his eyes, tilting his head back and picturing the dimly lit kitchen in your apartment, the scent of spices and the warmth of old vinyl records. “I miss you,” he confesses in a soft, almost broken tone.

He hears you pause, a palpable beat passing before you murmured, “I miss you too.”

“I wish I could be there,” he says. He wants to run a hand down your back, trace his knuckles over your cheek to feel the softness of your skin. “I had a whole night planned for us tonight.”

"I know, lovely," you murmured, leaning on the kitchen counter, phone pressed to your ear. "There'll be other nights."

He sighs. He hates having to cancel on you, especially now, when they’re already so rare. “Not like this one,” he mutters, and he knows you can probably tell by his tone that he’s pouting like a child.

“Why, because tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day?” you asked, talking while making a quick pasta.

He’s quiet for a second. Then — “Yes,” he admits in a near-whine. “It was going to be a special night.”

"Spence... Every day is Valentine's Day with you," you said, knowing exactly how cheesy you sound and running with it anyway.

Spencer’s just grateful you can’t see his face right now, because he knows he’s blushing a little, that he has an adorably smitten smile on his lips and he’s sure it would only embarrass him if you could see. “Sap,” he accuses lovingly.

"Said the man who collects ticket stubs of every movie we see," you retorted, grinning into the phone.

He sputters. “That’s — that’s — you’re not supposed to know about those,” he complained. “I keep those for myself, they’re a private collection for a reason.“

“Wow, what happened to what’s yours is mine?” you teased him, watching the pasta boil, and Christ, you felt like a lovestruck teenager right now, like those sickly sweet couples in Hallmark movies.

“That’s — there’s exceptions to that rule,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t you dare touch those. I’ve sorted them in chronological order, by the way — if one is out of place, I’ll know it was you messing around, looking over my things.”

You laughed into the phone, bright even with how tired you felt, because he brought it out of you, a glowing feeling in your chest that made the ache in your feet hurt a little less. It’s a sound that never fails to make his heart skip — the softest, most wonderful noise he’s ever heard. “I wish I was there,” he says again, his voice suddenly quiet and heavy with want.

"I know," you said quietly, watching the water grow cloudy as your pasta cooks. "But those women need you more than I do right now, Spence."

“Stop using logic on me,” he says, only half-joking, his expression serious even though you can’t see it. “I want to be selfish with you tonight.”

"Sweetheart, you don't have a selfish bone in your body," you replied affectionately.

“It’s not fair,” he complains, still playing the part of the pouting child in his mind, just whining and grumpy because he wants to be with you. “I was going to give you flowers, and take you out to dinner, and I was going to drive you home and kiss you so much—”

"We can still do that," you said, cutting him off before he could fill your head with ideas and then you could say goodbye to sleeping peacefully tonight.

“Not tomorrow,” he says. He’s almost definitely pouting right now, staring down at the pavement, his eyes dark under his lashes. “And it’s only Valentine’s once a year, I wanted it to be perfect.”

You fretted as you turned the gas off, putting off straining the pasta as you turned into the phone. “Why’s this so important to you, angel?” you asked softly.

It’s one of the things he loves about you — the gentleness with which you handle him, the way you ooze with care and curiosity instead of coddling concern. “This is our first Valentine’s,” he replies, slightly petulant. “And I wanted it to be good. Something you could look back on. I had it all planned out.”

Christ, you could cry with how much Spencer cared about you. You couldn’t remember anyone, boyfriend or not, who loved you this much. “You know it would’ve been perfect, regardless, right?” you asked gently. “You and me, that’s all I need. Even if it’s over a phone line.”

He’s quiet for a moment, just listening to you speak. “You deserve the best,” he says eventually. “You deserve flowers. And an elegant restaurant. And a movie. And a home cooked meal.” And me, he wants to add, but he doesn’t. “Not a phone call and the knowledge that your boyfriend is across the country.”

"Sweetheart, I get all of that from you even when it isn't Valentine's," you said, in that same gentle tone. "Besides, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you were here when you could be catching a killer."

“Why do you have to be reasonable?” Spencer groaned, rubbing a hand over his face again because you’re being entirely too logical for him to fight with right now. “That’s not fair.”

You chuckled, crossing your arms and leaning on the counter. "We'll have a make-up date, I promise," you said. "Just how you planned it."

That seems to pacify him a little bit, because he lets out a soft sigh. “Okay,” he agrees, slightly begrudgingly. “But I’m in charge of planning. You don’t get a say in the matter.”

You fake a tsk, as if planning mattered at all to you. "Fine. Whatever you decide."

That makes a soft, contented sound form in his throat — one bordering on possessive. “That’s what I thought,” he says, and you can all but envision the smirk on his lips.

"Go find your killer," you chided him, grinning stupidly, but there's no bite in it.

He lets out an amused huff. “Yes ma’am,” he teases, before his tone softens again. “I miss you. I’ll try to come home as soon as I can, okay?”

"Okay," you replied. "Stay safe, please."

“I will,” he promises, because he knows how much the thought of him getting hurt scares you. “Don’t worry about me.”

You snorted quietly, like it was possibly to not worry about him on cases. "Bye."

“Bye,” he responds quietly, and he wishes he could kiss you goodbye, trace the line of your lips with his fingers and feel the pulse in your neck against his fingers. “Sweet dreams.”

"You too," you whispered before hanging up. Spencer stands there for another moment after the call ends, his phone still in his hand and his heart heavy, and he wonders if it’s possible for someone to actually ache from missing someone this much.

And then Morgan’s calling him inside with his newly minted nickname since dating you — ‘lover boy’ — to adjust the geographic profile and he’s unwillingly dragged back into the vortex that is his job. And he has to shove any thoughts of you to the back of his mind for the time being, the lingering ache at the edge of his chest a constant, nagging thing that he has to continuously push past to focus on the case.

The whole team is working hard to try and solve this, but progress is slow. Somewhere between analysing blood spatter patterns and doing his own research to figure out their unsub’s deal, he does his best to plan your make-up date, paranoid that someone would see him looking for places to take you and make his day worse. Eventually, tired of having to look over his shoulder, he bites the bullet and calls Garcia for help, even if it would no doubt get back to Morgan and the rest of the team.

And then he has to deal with Garcia’s excited squealing, her incessant questions about you both, her comments about how cute he is and how she needs to meet you. He keeps his head down and grits his teeth, because he knows she means no harm, and it’s a small price to suffer through just to have this night be perfect.

The first thing to arrive was a bouquet of tulips with your morning paper waiting outside your door, a pretty arrangement of red and pink that matched the outfit you were going to wear to work — the whole department had agreed to come in red, white, and pink colours — and you can’t stop smiling as you go to put in a vase with water.

He gets the picture texted to him in the middle of a briefing with Hotch and the team, barely able to restrain his smile as he checked his phone under the table.

You: They’re beautiful, thank you.

He’s oblivious to Morgan giving him an odd look as he texted you back:

Spencer: Only the best for the most beautiful girl in the world.

Spencer tucks his phone back into his pocket when the meeting ends, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Morgan. He knows he’s going to get bombarded with questions he doesn’t feel like answering, and for once he’s glad they have a case to work on so he can use that as an excuse not to interact with him.

The second arrival was a package sent to your office, because of course he had your shift schedule memorised, and you signed for it, grasping the brown paper package that was obviously a book back to your desk. There’s no reason for you to hide it, not in the sanctity of your own office, but it’s as if you’re back in school, your crush sending you a note that you unfurl under your desk, finding a hardbound copy of Persuasion, arguably your favourite Austen novel.

You do your best not to blush, picking up your phone to text him, chewing on your lip before flipping to the right chapter and sending him a direct quote.

You: There could have been no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison.

Spencer’s in the middle of examining a body when you sent him the text. But as soon as he feels his phone vibrate, he pulls it out without a second thought, uncaring of the fact that Morgan and Rossi are looking his way. He has to hold back a smile because no, he won’t give Morgan any ammunition.

Spencer: You have my whole heart.

“You two are sickening, I hope you know that,” Morgan told him, a smirk on his lips.

Spencer’s head snaps up in alarm at the sound of his voice, and he quickly drops his phone in his pocket, face flushing. He’s silent for a minute, trying to regain his composure and come up with something to defend himself. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he replied weakly.

"Uh-huh," Rossi replied, masking a smile. "Can we look at the body now, or does your girlfriend have more input?" He wouldn’t be surprised if you did, to be honest, but he’d rather keep you out of this part of his world. He just shook his head, stepping closer to the slab.

Your last gift came in just as Valentine’s Day was about to come to an end, Spencer silently tracking into your apartment, 5 minutes away from midnight, cringing as he opened the bedroom door as quietly as possible. You’re asleep, your breathing soft and deep, the soft, soothing sound filling the room. He kneels by your side of the bed for a moment, just looking at you: all loose-limbed and relaxed, your face soft and sweet against the pillow. He can’t help the little smile that tugs the corner of his mouth up, and he wonders how he got so lucky. Softly, he reaches out, fingertips gentle as he brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

You flinched, startled awake, until you recognise Spencer's eyes blinking back at you. "Jesus Christ, you scared me," you breathed out. "You should have told me you were coming."

“I was trying to be quiet,” he murmured, keeping his voice low so only you would hear. His hand brushed the curve of your jaw, a soft, almost reverent motion. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You sink back into your pillows, shifting inside so he can sit on the edge. "I would have waited up for you if you'd called first," you murmured, voice thick with sleep.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hip right against your knee, his fingers still trailing along your face, then resting on your thigh over the covers. “I tried to get home earlier,” he said, and he sounded exhausted, the stress of the case weighing on him. “But the team was debating something. And then paperwork...”

"You don't have to explain," you said softly, shaking your head, making a mess of your hair.

He watches you, his gaze lingering on the mussed locks on your head, the sleepy bleariness to your eyes, the pinkness to your cheeks, and he feels a surge of longing so strong it borders on painful for a moment. He loves you like this — soft and sweet and rumpled with sleep, and he wants nothing more than to curl up next to you right here and now. “I hate being away from you for so long,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I missed you so much.”

"Should've caught your guy faster then," you said, shifting up to meet his lips with yours. "Happy Valentine's."

He returned your kiss, his fingers trailing up to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. “Happy Valentine’s,” he murmured against your lips, before he was kissing you again, harder this time, and you could tell he was tired by the urgency with which he held onto you.

"I realised something when you were away, you know," you murmured against his lips.

He pulled back slightly so he could look at you, his fingers still trailing along the back of your neck. “Yeah?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and studying your face with those sharp, intelligent eyes of his.

You nodded, looking at him with your own fond gaze. "I love you," you said softly. Plain and uncomplicated.

He had heard those words plenty of times in his life, but he’d never tire of hearing them from your lips. He felt his heart stutter in his chest, and he moved his hand to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Say it again?” he whispered.

"I love you," you repeated, your smile glowing in the dark, streetlights dancing over your ceiling.

He felt something in his chest settle at the words, at the reassurance that you really were here, and you were his. He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your nose, the. corner of your mouth, then the underside of your jaw. “I love you,” he murmured against your skin. “God, I love you so much.”

Your arms winded around him, his face burying itself in your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin, his arms wrapped around your waist. His hands slipped up under your sleep shirt, his touch warm and soft against your back, and he practically sunk into you, needing the closeness, needing to be surrounded by you.

"I know the day didn't go to plan," you murmured, "but this is the best Valentine's Day I've ever had."

His arms wrapped around you a little tighter, like he couldn’t get enough of having you pressed against him, and he pulled his head back from your neck so he could look at you properly. “Me too,” he said, then reconsidered. “Well, the whole day was hell, but this… this is perfect.”

"Yeah?" you asked, pecking his lips.

He chased your mouth, kissing you again, lingering on your lips for longer. “Yeah,” he replied softly. “Being with you is all I need.”

[xercesroses]

I often think about how devastating mage Viktor is and it makes me TWEAK.

I can't even begin to imagine how lonely this Viktor must be. I assume that this Viktor is essentially immortal because he's been traveling for what seems to be lifetimes after lifetimes looking for a way to save universes that's been destroyed by other versions of him.

It makes me wonder how many times he's tried different solutions/runes to give in the universes he visits. His aging is most likely extremely slow since he's able to visit so many universes and watch how they turn out. He could be thousands of years old for all we know.

Mage Viktor most definitely doesn't find any sort of peace in his endless life. He's constantly surrounded by his actions that caused an extinction of all human life. He will always be reminded of how he was responsible for this lifeless land he's created that will stretch to countless universes. The guilt he must feel whenever he looks at the statue of Jayce. How he failed him in every way possible and trapped his soul with him forever.

In a small way, his madness brought himself a blessing; the ability to grow old. Viktor's sole purpose was to push himself to the limits, to succeed his life expectancy and grow old like everyone else around him. If only he knew the grief that growing old would bring him. Mage Viktor was able to succeed his shortened life, but at the cost of everything; at the cost of killing everything/everyone he loved and becoming an aimless man walking with little purpose.

After Jayce saved his universe, I wonder what mage Viktor would do then. Jayce completed his mission of saving his universe, but what then? What else would mage Viktor do with his immortal life? Would he continue to visit other universes with the runes or will he just waste away in his universe? It's sickening just thinking about it.

[submergedinmadness]

everyone that is considering recovery or consider it but also agrees with this statement please please read it (I'll do a part 2 so if ur not sure about starting recovery then I want u to read it and maybe I can somehow help u)

everyone that agrees with it I can tell u that it's not true. I posted once a similar post and I'll do it again if I have to cuz the person who wrote this is wrong recovery IS possible people around me are a perfect example of it. I've never been more proud of my friends when they decides to heal and not only from 3d but overall from what they're going through. when it comes to 3d it's hard but think about it like any other mental illness, if ur struggling from addiction do u want to live with it forever? (yes addiction at some point is considered an illness) I don't think so and if u want to try to recover u can think that it'll be impossible cuz u've always lived like this but u CAN heal with the right help ur fully capable of recovering. my point is that ur mindset is the first thing u need to change and I know it'll be hard I saw my friends struggling and how much they were in pain cuz of leaving their past life and trying to live a new one but it was really worth it now I see them much happier then I could've ever imagine so please don't give up cuz it's hard it'll be hard it could be hard for a long time but as long as u want to change it and be happy then please don't give up just cuz some people here wrote it. and to y'all that reblogged it or left a note then I want u to know that I'm sorry that u think that way but it's never too late I saw some girls that were on a verge of death and I mean physically not only mentally, some of them couldn't stand on their own or do anything without help but yk what? they recovered and yes I know that full recovery is impossible but u can try to recover as much as it is possible, these thoughts won't leave u but they can be become rare and so faint u won't even hear them and suddenly u don't know when did they became this weak

okay I'll leave something for part 2 it's already getting too long and idk if anyone would want to read it but yeah if anyone read it and is planning to read pt 2 I'll ask grateful cuz I really don't want people to be in this just cuz they think recovery is impossible

"It's never too late" except it already is. Recovery isn't real. You'll always be sick. You'll always have that anorexic voice in your head.

[lunar-years]

It's really interesting how Peeta's quiet rebellion in the first games is kind of completely overlooked by everyone, right down to President Snow, while Katniss emerges as The Singular Target. To the extent that by the end of the book when they meet Snow, Katniss can tell right away that only she is to blame for the berry trick, whereas Peeta is quickly dismissed and then for a long time, an afterthought,

Like, yes, the berry trick was Katniss' idea, but it comes to her straight from Peeta's rhetoric!! "They have to have a Victor, Katniss" and before that on the cornucopia, when Katniss asks him why they won't just let Cato die already and Peeta responds "you know why." Like...both statements are vague enough to maybe not seem of any big concern to the Capitol, but Katniss is directly picking up on the undercurrent of his words. And you can't convince me that by the time they actually go to put the berries in their mouths, Peeta isn't fully aware of the same thing Katniss is: the Capitol won't let them both die. They need their Victor, or it falls apart. Yet to Snow and the Capitol, they truly believe Peeta is just a lovestruck idiot carrying out a double suicide so they can be together forever, Romeo & Juliet style. Whereas Katniss, in their POV, is doing it out of direct malice towards the Capitol, not love for Peeta. Even Haymitch doesn't let Katniss and Peeta talk afterwards and only tells Katniss the reality of the situation in the Capitol because he thinks that if Peeta finds out the truth he'll get too upset or won't be able to handle it and things will blow up.

This is after an entire Games where Peeta has been doing something that I have to imagine is pretty unprecedented, and definitely in contradiction to the entire mindset of the Games, which that he neglects his own self preservation instincts and safety to protect and save Katniss. He's kind of playing the Capitol the whole time, because right from the beginning he's refusing to participate in the inherent selfishness and division they try to sow in the Games. And he's doing so in ways he can easily get away, because Snow and by extension the Capitol don't see love as anything other than a form of weakness.

And I'm not trying to say that Peeta is this mastermind deliberately plotting intentional rebellion from page one, because yeah, his actions are largely purely driven by love for Katniss. But the thing the Capitol can't understand is that for Peeta, that love has always been inseparable from rebellion. One necessities and fuels the other. The paragraph Katniss spends lamenting on how horrified Peeta would probably be if he heard the way she and Gale talk about the Capitol in the woods is almost laughable as a reader, because girl, Peeta would absolutely be right there with you. Meanwhile, Katniss is shocked at herself when she so much as thinks the word 'murder' for the first time in relation to a death in the Games. It's just fascinating!

And again, that's not to say Katniss isn't also very much rebellious, especially as the narrative goes forward, but what's key is that her rebellion also stems out of love, and it strengthens over the course of the books as her love strengthens. Her first act of rebellion is volunteering out of love for her sister. And then slowly, her mindset in the game evolves from pure survival as she comes to love Rue, then Peeta. In nearly every case it's love that prompts further rebellion. The Capitol just can't see it because they can tell the star-crossed lovers narrative is on her end, but not Peeta's, a ruse. That's why Katniss is singled out as a threat and Peeta isn't. And by the time the Capitol/Snow realizes the love is reciprocated and that Peeta is the key weapon to use against Katniss, the love is already so deeply rooted that nothing can stop the rebellion that follows.

[bronx-bomber87]

Well hello there lovely Fandom :) This has to be one of the best of eps of season so far. Tied with last week for sure. The writers came to play this season holy hell. Also a little birdie (my friend ha) told me the person who wrote 2x11 wrote this one. SOOO of course it's incredible. Start to finish. Once again not just the Chenford stuff either. (That was insanely good obviously. Losing my mind over it.)

I just love that they've tapped back into the show as a whole again. I mean we would have some decent B and C storylines along with our ship last couple years. But this season? Phew they are killing the game. Each week tops the last or ties it. I can see why Eric loves this season so much. Why he's called it his fav so far. It's been fantastic. I'm with him. Let us dive into the goldmine that is this episode.

7x08 Wildfire

We start off with another Genny appearance. I love this sfm. Wasn't sure when we'd get to see her again. Definitely was not expecting a couple episodes after 7x06. This season continues to surprise and delight me in the best way. Her reply about the GPS cracks me up. I've been in traffic so bad the GPS gave up on me too LOL Yay Uncle Tim to the rescue. This was such a nice start to the ep for Tim.

This is the season that continues to give and give. More of Tim's house AND an Uncle Tim scene? *swoon* I love that the first thing they ask about is where the good boy is. We all love him and need more of him in all of our lives. Kojo is at daycare hehe Considering how this episode goes down I'm grateful for it.

They try to pull one over on him but it ain't working. Not even a little bit. Lmao I adore how he pops back in to catch them instantly disobeying. The best part is they say 'Yes sir.' when they're caught. The love and respect is evident. It's so lovely. Seeing him in Uncle Tim mode is so cute I can't stand it. Little gem I didn't knew I needed. Well done writers.

I love Lucy bee-lining for Tim to let him know about the looting in his neighborhood. The best part is her immediately jumping in his car to get to his nephews. My heart. Such a short but impactful scene. Does my shipper heart good to see it. Chips down they're always there for each other. That's never changed despite all the messy relationship issues. A constant for them we all love to see.

So many things to love about this next portion. I wasn't able to get it all in. But the way they enter the house together on guard. As you all know I love watching them in the field. It is ship crack for me. I'll never be over the well oiled machine that is them. It is the ONE thing that never suffered no matter how bad it got between them.

It's their center and it held well. I friggin love the pic. Oh my word. It's from the baseball game in 5x11. The little things are the best. I love the small details. Tim is so damn sassy 'Gently.' Can't say I didn't think the same when they were man handling his TV. lol

Then the ship crack really kicks in. Fighting the stealing duo together. gimme gimme. Poetry in motion as always. Love to see it. The funniest part is his nephew's reappearance. Cracks me up they were playing the entire time. LOL Of course Genny shows up to see it all. Little bit of levity amongst a sea of intensity during this ep. Also relief the boys will be safe and headed home with her after this.

Oh my word, them talking about his nephews. Be still my damn heart. I love that she had a relationship with them. Not only that she coached them as well. Her joke about the curveball making Tim's smile even wider. Could he be more in love with her? *sad sigh* This is why the breakup destroyed her. Stuff like this. No doubt she thought they were getting married and we're forever. She had relationships with his sister and her kids. Legit ones to the point they miss and ask about her.

Tim was her one and done. The first time she fell in love and thought it was going to be her future. He was going to be her future. Oh Timothy, you really stepped in it when you let her go. My goodness. I love getting peaks into their life outside the station when they were together. This was a fantastic addition to that. The details in this one making me insanely giddy. Too bad we don't get to hear what he told them but hot damn I enjoyed this little tidbit moment.

The immense fire interrupts their lovely moment. They're trapped and have to radio in as such. Grey is one giant ball of panic even thought he's trying to hide it. Despite being his officers those are his friends in real danger. Not only that he is stuck at a command post hoping against hope they make it out. Eric killing me with his expressions once again.

The deep breath he takes before formulating a plan is everything. Suggests they leave the shop ASAP. Just a tinder box waiting to happen. When he said to use a safety blanket I was percolating with excitement. That meant tight quarters and goodness to come. I could feel it. I was legit vibrating this morning as I watched this go down. Tim not giving Lucy a ton of relief saying he saw it on youtube once lol

I absolutely love the role reversal here. Tim is the rambling one. Going on and on. Lucy has to be the one get him to focus. He’s spewing facts that mean nothing to her in this moment. She just needs to know they’re going to be ok. That this is going to work and they're not going to die in this fire.

First time we see Tim come undone and not have the cooler head between them. Lucy has to be the one to get him to focus and give her a straight yes or no answer. Her anxiety can't take the long winded reply. I love her face and hand she puts up letting him know as such. She needs his reassurance not his facts.

This is the meat and potatoes of this scene right here. The sass coming from this man in this scene lmao I love him sfm. 'What, You got somewhere to be?' Oh my lord. These two. Lucy cuts him to the quick. Trying to stop this near death-love confession of his. Tim continuing the sass train saying he could be saying something hateful. LOL Doubtful my love very very doubtful. You forget she knows you just as well as you do her. Lucy continues to try and water down his confession by cutting him off. Saying she knows what he's going to say.

That he's still in love with her. Tim's reply is primo. ‘The arrogance.' This made me cackle. My god this is not the time to be fighting her on this Timothy. Also she’s not wrong babe.... He gives in and says she's not wrong. Of course he still loves her. *heart clutch* Here's what I love the most about him saying this. It's fact that he couldn’t die or possibly let her leave this earth without letting her know he’s still in love with her. That he loves her. That fact still hasn't changed for him. I’m sure he’s worked it out in therapy and lives with the guilt of it daily. Her wondering if he still loved her. If he truly loved her like she loved him.

I remember thinking about that in post 6x06. And it honestly killed me the thought of it. When he broke it off how she must've felt like he didn't love her anymore. Or fell out of love. Or never even cared at all with how he tossed them away. When it was the farthest thing from the truth. Whether she realizes it or not she needed to hear this from him. To hear him say he still loved her. It’ll mean more post this moment than anything else. I think this healed a small part of her. Whether she wanted to hear it or not. I think she sensed it in 6x09 with their hug. With the way he clung to her and told he he wasn't ok till that hug. But this is verbal confirmation for her. He loves her.

Her anger is still shining through when Tim asks if she still loves him? As it should. He DEEPLY wounded her. Also only they could have a near death-love confession and be fighting through the entire thing LOL I love them sfm fandom. I truly do. It's insane how much I do. ‘You are infuriating.’ Doesn't crack or let it slip she loves him back still. Now her non reply truly is her answer. Tim can see that and it's why he says 'So that's a yes?' He knows her. But she is fighting him every step of the way.

Lucy is not going to be an easy nut to crack. Nor should she be. He straight up scarred her for life with that breakup. The carelessness of it. Fuck, it damaged me for sure. This show and this ship are my happy place. I was going through a rough and painful transition in life when it occurred. So it hit me real hard when it happened. My happy place was suddenly not so happy anymore. I struggled with it a lot. Can only imagine how Lucy felt. She has a rock hard exterior slash wall with him. Even facing death she couldn’t verbalize she’s still in love with him too. It risks too much for her. He shattered her heart into a million pieces.

Tim is slowly picking up the many shards but its going to take time. He is going to have to keep chipping away at her wall. Because the scars he left on her heart run very deep. It’s going to take him continuing to try and keep that convo going in order to get her to a good place. A place where she can unleash her pent up anger toward him. To be able to receive his deepest amends to get them on the road to recovery. Loved his 'I know!' He knows he's infuriating. Doesn't fight her and I love the self awareness of his line. The way he cradles her head at the end as they come together. I CANNOT everyone. The tender protection of this has me reeling.

The banter doesn't skip a beat when they emerge. Tim bragging they would make it. Lucy of course doesn't let him get away with it. Because she is wifey and that won't stand. Heh. Gah the way he helps her up. It's so tender and sweet. Once again the little things I adore so very much. Also lets note the look he gives when he radios in 'Code Four.' The man is a glass house of transparency for his feelings. No way she doesn't know he is gone for her even minus the confession.

THIS HUG. OMFG. Tim doesn't hesitate to pull her in. It's the way he holds her holy cow. The moment they have a second to breathe she's in his arms. He needs to grab her and make sure she's really next to him. To ground himself. They legit just survived a near death experience together. The way she falls into him. *happy sigh* Wraps one arm around his back and has her other hand placed intimately on his stomach. I may faint. The wide shot from behind is beautifully done. Showing them what they just made it through together.

It's the way he shuts his eyes and sways with her on the return shot that gets me. Lucy reaching up to touch his stomach once again. Grounding herself through touching him as well. Her eyes filling with tears as she views the destruction they got through. It's such a beautiful moment. I love their hugs SO much. They always convey so much love and emotion in them. Was hoping for a new one this year. Wish granted. The giving season continues to give. This will be my new header for sure. When I find the right gif.

I feel like moments like this I can consider as 'Little doses' He’s trying so hard everyone. He really is. Since s7 started the man has done everything he can while respecting her bounds. Wants to continually show up for her in whatever capacity she'll accept him in. To rebuild her trust in him. Now she’s not there yet and rightfully so. But he’s chipping away slowly with moments like this. This is an amazing moment step forward for them.

Lucy reaches out first in the hospital. Talking about priorities and them being crystallized. Tim looking at her with massive heart eyes when he says his were clear. She is his #1 priority. That has never changed. Even during the breakup she was. Because he was doing it in his mind at the time to protect her. So his priorities have been clear for awhile. But even more so post-therapy. That clarity was sharpened into focus ten fold for him. She is it. It just has taken on a new life and context for him post-therapy.

Lucy does not see what he is throwing down unfortunately. That or she's avoiding reading into what he's saying. I can't decide. That's the beauty of doing my in-depth ones in the summer. Because I'll have the whole season in hand to make a better analysis of that. What I can tell you was Tim wanted to have the convo again. Now his panic is at 100 when she says she needs to move forward. It's pouring out of his eyes the panic of what that means. Striking some terror into his soul. Him worrying she means personally.

Luckily Lucy’s talking about her career instead. Now he is a little dejected still but not nearly as panicked. Agreeing once again just like in 7x06 and letting go of the convo he wants to have....Oh my boy. You’re gonna have to make it happen honey. She is too gun-shy after what you did. You’re gonna have to really really make this happen. Oooh man they’re really gonna make us work for this reconciliation and I’m here for it. Holy hell this season is good. The writers brought it this year I have to say.

Now I know some want a reconciliation already. I get it. Really I do. I miss them being together too. My heart aches and longs for it. BUT they need to really flesh this out. I don't see it as being dragged out so much as worked out. If they don't and they got back together right now people would complain. Saying Tim didn't do the work or work out his shit or take accountability. (Which is he BTW thank you writers for last week) Or that Lucy's feelings are being ignored and she's easily letting him back in. This delay is showing neither of those things are true. Lucy is protecting her feelings and heart still. Tim is really going to have to continually show up for her. They say an apology is useless unless there is changed behavior. He's gotta keep showing her he's changed.

His actions will speak louder than anything. This is going to take time. I keep saying that because it's true. Tim is going to need to continue to put in the work. That way she can get to a place where her feelings are expressed and acknowledged. Where she can truly let him have it and they can move forward. Have that adult convo she was so wrongfully denied in 6x07. When the man was nowhere near ready. He is now. Thing is she isn't ready yet. That's ok. I like them slowing it down to explore them getting fixed in other ways before that convo. Also that it isn't going to be on easy on Tim. You know I love my boy but he's going to have to EARN her back ten times over. It needs to be hard. Now her going for Sergeant? I’m down with.

To quote the legend Alexis Rose. 'Love that journey for you.' This will give her career clarity. I want that so badly for her. Especially if it gets her out of his chain of command. Fixes that issue instantly. Also the smiles happening based on that were so sweet. Tim, literally laying it down, they could be together if she wanted, should she make Sergeant. She smiles with her reply. *screams into pillow* The throw back to 2x02 made me dizzy with happiness. How beautifully full circle would it be for him to help her make Sergeant? To help her study? (loving this idea btw.). The flirty vibes in this scene made me squee. Their base banter is still alive and well. Lucy is flirting right back everyone. This is an excellent sign. Saying they could get a 'Head start early.' Flirty af back at him.

Dumbass Seth comes in and incriminates himself like the idiot he is… Idk what he was thinking saying this in front of not only Lucy but Tim? You little fool. He warned you not to put her in jeopardy. Said you'd regret if you did. My god I fanned myself at his reply to Seth. The feral like stare along with his reply? Hot damn. Get me some ice water. Tim is coming for you dude. Locked and loaded. He told you he would kill you if you put her in harms way. You’re a dead man Ridley. Officially marked my son.

His panic at being caught in his lie is so painfully evident. Trying to cover it up with 'checking in.' on Lucy. Put the Fear of God into them my ass. You couldn't scare a butterfly bro. The knowing shared looks are everything. You just started your countdown clock out of the FTO Seth. They're gonna work together prove what you did. Scorched Earth is coming your way whether you like it or not.

Phew. Holy moly what a good episode. It was incredibly good. End to end fantastic. That seems to be the theme this year. I'm about it. Bummed we have one mini break but after this ep we might need the slight decompression lol

Thank you as always to the amazing people who like, comment (these makes me so happy,) and reblog these. It means more than you can ever know. You are the real MVP's. I'll see you all in a couple weeks for 7x09. It'll be the halfway point which is unreal. Stay excellent my lovely readers.

~~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

Love me some Wopez early in this ep very cute. They are controlled chaos haha Poor Wes stuck with all the kids lol

'Wealthy glamorous widow.' Angela Lopez you are a Queen and I adore you.

Angela's serious talk with Nyla was really good. She didn't listen sadly (at first) but loved her for doing that knowing wouldn't be well received. Nyla is having hard ole time this season. She is starting to crack and it shows.

Good job Nolan with the kid. I like them tapping back into what made him likeable in the first couple of seasons. Also him calling Bailey while she was fighting fires was hilarious. Like I'm a little busy bub lol

Of course Seth hid the note…I mean it got us our moment but still. That is going to come back and end him. Tim and Lucy were affected by this. Grey was SHAKEN by his mishap, Won't just be them coming after him with a vengeance when he is found out.

I love that Nyla listens to Angela at the end and taking care of herself. Too bad it doesn't last long.

Jesus what a way to end the ep poor James......That girl got annihilated no way she makes it.

Glad they posted the viewer discretion advised. My heart goes out to Cali and all they've lost.

[artemisiasmuse]

always known | CH.5

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem! kook reader

CW: 18+ mdni, smut eventually, angst, mean rafe, jealousy, possessive rafe, kook typical classism (not from y/n tho), abusive family dynamics, not really canon/au, swearing, drinking, no coke tho, ward cameron

SUMMARY: rafe’s childhood best friend y/n returns to figure eight by herself and finds rafe hates her for some reason, their friendship has gone down the drain and they can hardly remain cordial, and there’s one thing causing all of it: why can’t rafe just move on?

TROPE: childhood best friends to enemies to lovers

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

MASTERLIST

< previous

you lean against his doorframe, his eyes already on you, as you say, “you’re gonna make me say it first aren’t you?”

“yeah i am.” rafe throws his phone to the side, bouncing off the bed slightly. he doesn’t care, he’s walking towards you. there’s no subtlety in his gaze, he’s drinking in the way you look in his clothes and you almost shiver at the unabashed staring. he lightly pushes the door shut, not that you even notice, your feet move towards him without much thought, his pull is hard to ignore much longer.

“fine, i like you rafe and not as a friend.” you’re nearly chest to chest when you say it, a grin is splitting your face and he doesn’t even know if he can stop smiling in your presence.

“fucking finally.” you hear it half a second before you’re tugged into him fully and his lips are on yours. there’s no doubt in your mind that rafe is the best kisser in the world and rafe thinks he might just die happy at the feeling of your soft lips against his. there’s a small large part of you that thinks he might just be made for you. even the way his tongue tentatively glides over your bottom lip is mind-shattering. you’re moving without much thought because if you think about it too much you might just melt into a puddle. there’s no fireworks like in the movies instead there’s an innate sense that this was almost what was going to happen. you were both fated for this. rafe can’t believe you taste so good, that you’re so pliant and sweet in his hold, even the cute little sounds you make, it’s a million times better than his imagination and those expectations were already through the roof. his heart is beating out of his chest, so rapidly he thinks he should just give it up to you. you pull back to breathe, a small whine of disappointment crawling up his throat, and his hands cup your face, gently framing your cheeks as you look up at him. there’s a salacious string of saliva connecting your lips before it snaps off, rafe mourns it a little. you decide rafe looks the best after he’s kissed you, flushed and breathing heavy with a smile on his swollen lips. your hands find the back of his neck, pulling him back down, this time he’ll let himself taste you properly.

you take your time figuring each other out, kissing until you need to catch your breath and eventually cuddling on his bed. you’re laying quite literally on top of him with your head propped up on his chest so you can take a good look at him. you both abandoned your perception of time until you both got hungry. begrudgingly he tears his eyes away from you and checks the time on his phone, it’s nearly 3pm.

when you both leave you’re unfortunately face to face with sarah in the kitchen who takes one look at your matching swollen lips. and then how his clothes are hanging off you and very astutely says “finally.” she pats rafe on the back in a silent congratulations. all you can do is laugh while rafe rolls his eyes.

“how long did sarah know?” rafe blushes and ignores your gaze, pointedly opening the fridge to look for food

“forever kinda.” he murmurs it and you don’t know if it’s possible but your cheeks might be sore from smiling tomorrow. he grabs the leftover chinese food from yesterday, popping it in the microwave for you both.

“forever?” he hears the excitement in your voice and he knows there’s no point in hiding it now. you felt the same or at least a little bit the same. as much as he recognizes how special kitchens have become for you two, he’d rather not have this particular conversation there. so he ignores you until you’re both back in his room and eating.

“seeing you back made me realize i still hadn’t gotten over you, i hated myself for it, and i knew you didn’t feel the same which only made me angrier. i was the idiot who couldn’t move on.” you blink away his self flagellation, he really had to stop doing that.

“you didn’t know anything then and you still don’t.” you kiss him again. rafe hums at the feeling, warmth spreading this whole body from the small press of your lips to his. you want to tell him everything but your emotions are all over the place, you need to figure them out yourself before you start talking.

“why’d we waste so much time?” rafe pulls you close after you’ve finished eating, you settle against him your back pressed against his chest. in his own way he’s confirming that you’ve felt the same for forever. you have.

“hmm i don’t know i kinda think if it wasn’t now it might not have worked. it would’ve been a disaster in middle school.” there’s no way you would have survived the distance and that fact may have ended your friendship.

“yeah fuck you’re right about that.” he presses a kiss to your head, the smell of your passion fruit shampoo makes him feel giddy. you’ve turned him into a sap in the span of hours. he dreads the moment you’ll have to leave his arms even if it’s hours away, even if it’s just to sleep.

“did you recognize me when you came back?” rafe asked, he’d seen you over the years, sarah showing him pictures that he desperately tried to forget. you kept getting more and more beautiful and he wasn’t there. you turned in his hold, his grip around your waist loosening as you faced him.

“of course, i’d know your face with my eyes closed.” a small finger traced the lines of his eyebrows, his lashes, the curve of his nose. you thought each piece of him was beautiful you felt so grateful for every line, every freckle, every single inch of his face. of him. rafe’s eyes fluttered closed at the gentle brush of your fingers, no one had ever touched him like this.

“i don’t know i thought maybe the hair-“ his voice came out hoarse, the lump in his throat from your adoring gaze was hard to ignore. his eyes met yours, your favorite part of him. your smile widened even more.

“i mean i never thought you’d look so hot with a buzzcut but yeah i knew it was you.” rafe groaned at your words, still adjusting to the way you could render him speechless with a few words. had you always been so flirty? he didn’t care as long as he was the only one on the receiving end. you giggled at his reaction, pleased that you could get him flustered. there was such a pretty pink flush to the tips of his ears.

“you didn’t seem phased.” rafe supposed you were too preoccupied with how mean he was to you then, you had barely reacted to his presence beyond the initial shock.

“im very skilled at talking to you rafe cameron, even now.” he loved how you said his name, the way there’s so much affection even in how you tease him. he wants this day to last forever.

“yeah you are, you’re the only one who knows me,” his arms tighten around you, as if he’s subconsciously trying to keep you closer. you’d never leave him again.

“that’s a shame, you know, you’re my favorite person in the world, other people should see how great you are.” he feels almost lightheaded from you words, you’d echoed the sentiment before. favorite person in the world. that would stick with him. he wouldn’t want for any other title in his entire life.

“they’d never believe you.” he prods your cheek with his finger.

“i managed to convince you, didn't i?”

“a little,” you’re wearing matching smiles, dopey and blissful.

“maybe it’s a good thing though… if more pretty blondes catch on i might just have to keep you to myself.” rafe decides he should make you jealous more often. that might be one of his favorite sides of you.

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.” it’s like he knows the perfect set of words to fluster you.

“how come no guys approach me though?” there’s a fake pout to your lips and rafe rolls his eyes.

“do you really have to ask?” there’s a glint of something dark in his eyes, you feel silly for even wondering. since you’d been friends again it had gotten even worse, topper even hesitated to hug you.

“oh right! well your scary guard dog thing doesn’t work at school.” he huffs a laugh at how you phrase his almost unhealthy protectiveness before catching onto your last few words.

“you really shouldn’t have told me that baby.” his hand slides up and down the length of your thigh, resting on your hip and pulling you closer. your skin’s so soft and his fingers probe the plush of your thighs, unbelieving that he can do this freely. he’d only dreamt of it before. there’s a trail of heat when he touches, it’s a miracle you don’t shudder against him.

“oh fuck” you realize far too late the consequences of your words, but his don’t scare you as much as they should. “that’s okay though, i’ve been rejecting everyone since i came. now when i tell them i have a boyfriend it won’t be a lie!”

“boyfriend huh? i don’t remember asking,” your gaze snaps to his and narrows. there’s no malice to his words. he’s smirking down at you like he can’t help but tease you.

“oh please we’ve been practically married since diapers.”

“i wish that were true. boyfriend seems a little too simple for this.” rafe thinks that being married would be too simple for what you two had. there had to be another word for it.

“yeah you’re right, we’re far past that.” soulmates. no, that wasn’t right either, he didn’t like the notion that some other unknown thing brought you two together. he’d fight anything even if it was the universe to be by your side again and again.

“what’s your ring size?” husband and wife will have to do for now. he holds up your hand to compare it to his, it’s far smaller and his ring looks like it would be too big for even your thumb.

“rafe we’re too young! let me graduate first.” you swat his hand away, flustered by how quickly he’s gone past boyfriend, not that you’re really opposed. you know you should be, it should be too soon even if it doesn’t feel like it.

“did you just say yes?” he presses a kiss to your cheek, nudging you with his nose.

“no i said-“

“i’m taking it as a yes” you groan and squirm in his hold, suddenly feeling to hot in your future fiancée’s arms. he lets you go and you move forward to sit on your knees next to him, facing him fully. rafe’s staring at you like you put the sun in the sky, head lolled to the side lazily, with his gaze dripping with affection.

“okay whatever floats your boat bro.” you grumble like a middle schooler, you’re still hot but you think it’s just because rafe is looking at you like that.

“‘bro’, you’re fucking in for it now.” he scoffs at you before pulling you back into him by the hips and tickling you until you apologize

a/n: i don’t think i’ll ever be satisfied with this chapter (i’ve rewritten it twice) but that’s okay i guess T^T next chapter will be a lot longer they have a lot to talk through and a lot of catching up ;)) to do

taglist: @clar2aa @ggraycelynn @rafestoothbrush @woweewoowa @mattyskies @always4tuesdayss @ashy-kit @chalahyung01 @rafeysslut @beabogsims @someoneisreading @rlalliehayes @artbymin @pogueprincesa @crvcified-kinx @ltristessedureratoujours @lilithblackkk @pluviophilis @emmiesummers

[drdemonprince]

A little positivity for your inbox :). I'm a queer, autistic generally gender-fucked individual and I wanted to share how much your posts ab building community and putting yourself out there have helped me. I moved to Chicago 9 months ago and felt like the most miserable version of myself. I had like 1 friend and felt too socially inept to pursue any other connections. My anxiety had me locked in a state of inaction. Seeing you post about the merit of just GOING to things, just putting yourself in spaces helped me feel like that was something I could do too? And so I did. I would go events (with my 1 friend) I never really knew what to do with myself I would just kind of...be there. And for a while it was really uncomfortable and I would freak out afterwards. Like every time. But it felt good to be doing SOMETHING to improve that part of my life. It was one of those things that sucked until it didn't I guess. Cut to present day and I'm a version of myself that I didn't know I could be? I go to parties where I know almost no one and I talk to people even when I'm a little scared to approach them. I have so much confidence?? I have to acknowledge that this was more attainable for me than some because I'm an autist who's able to mask. Even still, I was able to find people like me who I can unmask around by venturing out a little. It is possible. My friendship circle has grown into this beautiful collection of neurodivergent weirdo freaks who I never would have known had I kept to myself day in and day out like I wanted to. I'm also not someone whose body meets most standards of desirability, it made it harder but not impossible. Anyways, thanks for being loud and obstinate and also hopeful! You make people's lives better by doing these things. I hope you have a wonderful weekend and enjoy the little bit of sunshine being thrown our way ♥️♥️♥️

Yay thank you. I most want to share this ask so that other people can see it and think about whether your experience could be relevant to their own lives. A WHOLE lot can happen just from showing up to things a bunch of times, getting a little *less* uncomfortable being there (even if you always feel kinda uncomfortable forever, i still do!), participating in what you can, becoming a familiar face, talking to people, and seeing who you vibe with. that's the work. that's everything. and you can do it being shy/anxious/awkward/having highly particular needs/being visibly othered/etc. It's HARD and not everyone is gonna be your people but it is possible. It's a lot of work but it's worth it.

[rei-ismyname]

Cyclops mourns Logan

Pretty sure he's dated more psychics than that

They really called it Cyclops in YOU. Hell yeah. Anyway, Logan is dead. Scott, unaware that he's in a comic book, is treating this event as if it's forever. Lucky for us, because their messed up relationship is like crack for me. He considers how Logan was his most complicated relationship, and that's a lot coming from him.

There's definitely resentment there, because Logan was and is a selfish jerk. It's refreshing honesty, and very Scott Summers. He's remembering all the different ways in which Logan made his life harder, acted like a creep, or spited him needlessly, yet Logan's death is keeping Scott up at night.

I love this flashback to after the Dark Phoenix Saga (I think) and it makes pretty clear that Logan transferred his idealisation from Jean to Scott. Scott is standing at his wife's grave and somehow Logan manages to make literally everything about him. At least he acknowledges his grief and says 'sorry for your loss.' Wait, no that doesn't happen actually. The bastard just tells him he's not allowed to quit because of his psychosexual obsession. I wonder what Scott is thinking as he walks off. An optic blast in the back would be somewhat justified (and funny) but Scott usually has better self control than that.

He considers the aftermath of Fatal Attractions, when Magneto performed field surgery on his bones. Logan definitely wasn't used to not being immortal and the apex murderer. His recovery was long and his whining intense.

Is Scott biting Magneto there?

Scott approaches Logan as he's punishing himself in the Danger Room and echoes his words back to him, offering him a hand up. He remembers the heartwarming threats and the good times shared together fighting for their lives. Brothers in grief and violence, rivals who are simultaneously paternal figures to each other.

Scott is very prone to blaming himself for things going wrong, and Logan was always there to remind him. I don't think he's being fair on himself but he never really is. Blaming Scott for things is an X-Men sport. He repeats Logan's insane words for a third time - 'we don't get to quit.' Scott cries in the snow on all fours outside the base where Logan was repeatedly tortured and dehumanised, but he doesn't quit.

Scott imagines what Logan's funeral would be like, and he's not far off. He thinks hard about an appropriate way to honour his memory. The answer is obvious - alcohol and violence. I have no doubt Scott knows exactly where every mutant hater watering hole is, but it's funnier to imagine him wandering around until he finds one.

Proving he knows him pretty damn well, Scott sends Logan off by beating the shit out of some bigots and drinking over their unconscious bodies. 'Here's to you, bub. See you in a year or so.' Cyclops is pretty famous at this point, so these dudes probably know exactly who he is. They'll be telling that story for a while, of the time they were drinking and hating on mutants then Scott Summers came out of nowhere to fuck them up. Logan wouldn't be proud exactly, but he'd probably grunt and call him bub. That's practically 'I love you' from Logan, and Scott loves his dumb ass too.

[ghostcam4812]

Dandy's World Glisten Redesign!

(My version/AU) Glisten!!! Our favorite perfect fashionista… Remember these r just my headcanons and you don't have to agree! ^_^ (sorry if this one isn't written as well! I'll work on fleshing him out better in the future) Glisten!!... What a complex toon... On the outside layers, he seems very two-faced. Some toons consider him stuck-up, even passive aggressive and rude where he means to just be snarky. His sense of humor and wording can often fall flat, leaving him feeling embarrassed; though, less and less as he has learned to mask his "poor" senses of communication. ..But, all the more to practice! Glisten practices day and night, not only with how he talks, acts, and dresses, but with his abilities and skills. Everything is practiced, because everything must be perfect. He is nothing if not perfect, and no one can know that he isn't truly perfect. Toons tend to think he is overly-confident, self-obsessed and absorbed in his own world, that he cares only for himself and no one else. This is far from true, but, he must admit his image is important, and he doesn't really know how to balance his life. He is often overly anxious, so worried about what others are thinking of him, and what could go wrong, when it'll go wrong, and so on... He doesn't take breaks when he's supposed to, overworking himself to passing out or even injury. He doesn't listen to his friends when they tell him he needs to stop, because there's no time for a break! In reality, Glisten is horrified of the concept of passing time, and he is so scared of what the future holds that he fears he has no "time to waste"; including breaks, relaxing, or spending lots of time with the people he loves. This causes him to become... somewhat isolated from the other toons. The only toons who truly know any extent of his issues is Rodger and a few others (I haven't decided yet lol), though Rodger has taken up as basically his therapist friend. He loves his friends, some are even family to him. But he is always, always scared deep down, that if he isn't perfect, or the way they expect him to be... they will abandon him. And he'll be alone. Forever. ...But! There's no way that can happen, if he just keeps practicing and, well, pretending... and if time never truly passes, and if nothing goes wrong or changes. Right?

Dandy's World art & hc/au info requests open (including OCs for art) in my ask box! I will have delayed responses (as of posting), especially to things I want to give art with on my answer! :} Might not have another big redesign art post like this for a bit, sorry! But hang in there, I'll be back on track, hopefully soon! 💓 thank you SO much for all the support, it genuinely means the world to me and has made me feel so much better in my life lol 💞🥰