#honestly not worth the time more often than not

[thesummerstorms]

You know that conversation you can have with Emmrich where he asks what your plans are for your body when you die?

I think Arsinoë accidentally horrified him. Not by clinging to non-Nevarran ideals about cremation, but by telling him she never thought anyone would care that much one way or the other.

She would be dead, so she wouldn't care. And honestly, a majority of compradi die as Fledglings without graduating; she thinks their bodies were probably burned (since you have to do something with bodies) but they certainly don't have funerals, so it certainly wasn't worth worrying about then.

Emmrich interjects, trying to wrangle his own shock long enough to point out that she's not a Fledgling now, so surely...?

Well if she dies now, Arsinoë all but shrugs, it would depend on the circumstances, wouldn't it? She isn't someone important like a Talon or the scion of an established Crow family. She certainly isn't Caterina Dellamorte, who warrants something verging on a State Funeral.

If she died, there is still a non-zero chance it would be at another Crow's hands, in which case it's anyone's guess what happens after.

If she dies honorably fulfilling a contract, then Viago might feel obligated to do something if he isn't pissed off at her failure and she's isn't still in Exile. He's her mentor, so probably he would manage at least a small pyre. Maybe even a flower or two for the flames if he's letting himself feel sentimental. Teia would probably be there because Viago was.

But just as often, when a contract goes wrong, there's no time to go back for the body. The mark get ahold of it, or whoever's left on the contract has to focus on survival rather than the dignity of a corpse that can't feel any of it.

But really, none of that would matter to Arsinoë, would it? She'd be off wherever dead souls end up going, or maybe in oblivion, who knows. She doesn't have any family to be horrified by her corpse unless you count Viago, who is Fifth Talon, has bigger things to worry about, and will get over it.

But anyway, why do you ask, Emmrich?

Emmrich is too aghast to answer clearly at that point because every single point of Arsinoë's answer goes so deeply against everything that is ingrained in him as part of the Mourn Watch, from the belief that a corpse just doesn't matter to her sincere belief that no one would care enough about her for any particular mourning rights.

And the thing is Emmrich does care. It's his professional duty to care, but he's also become fond of his young friend and he cannot handle imagining that she could die on this mission or the next and potentially receive no rites at all.

Cue Emmrich starting to plan how he's going to have Rook interred in the Grand Necropolis when the time comes. It may involve some string pulling, especially if (hopefully) she dies not on this mission but in the distant future, and even more so if he precedes her and has to leave the job in one of his colleague's hands. But Maker help him, there will be a plan and her death will be respected.

When it comes to light, Neve is uncertain and a little weirded out, but also a little offended by all this. She's fallen in love with Rook, but even before that, the respect between them would have warranted a pyre and Arsinoë's name on the Wall of Light if there was no one else to arrange things. Is this why she's never asked about what happened after Varric-

Lucanis is horrified by the idea of Arsinoë as one of the spirit-possessed skeletons in the Necropolis or one of the jewel-eyed skulls in its many niches; he snaps at Emmrich about Nevarran obsession and respecting Rook as Antivan.

Emmrich refuses to budge. She expected the Crows to do nothing for her. She deserves better, deserves to be remembered, even if she isn't Nevarran.

Lucanis seems fully stunned by the idea that Rook believed this in the first place, given Viago's attachment. Given Lucanis's own growing feelings. Emmrich does soften a little bit when he sees that Lucanis truly didn't realize, but he also doesn't fully divert his plans.

Gathering a grave-dowry is normally left to a lover or family member if the deceased was themselves unable, and Emmrich is neither. But needs must, and though his friend now seems attached to Neve and Lucanis, hearts can be fickle. A plan is better. So he puts away small things here or there, eyes which of Rook's enchanted rings and amulets she seems to favor just in case.

It almost helps him live with the knowledge that Arsinoë believed she would die unmourned. Almost.

[system-of-a-feather]

Man I really like this post cause honestly, same. I don't think we were "as large or complex" (" " cause I don't really see benefit in comparing and those terms are subjective, but stating this largely because I don't think we had as much of an issue with this as it sounds like you did) but honestly after we got past like 14 parts and a certain level of recovery / discovery of subsystems and sidesystems, it really really stopped being both worth it to really even bother counting. All we can really say is that at its most it was "at least 30" and that isn't me saying +/- 5 or even 10 or even like 20, but just that trying to differentiate the Mes from the Not Mes from the Kind of Mes from the Absolutely Not Me At All is so ridiculously convoluted and likely to bring up conflict that anything more than the "somewhere between 30 and a shit ton" is too much work.

Even now, our system is a system of Zero, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, or Ever Changing of "somewhere between 30 and a shit ton"; or as we'd like to say if anyone were to ask "a system of one or many depending on how you look at it" with how our plurality works now. I'm extremely happy with that answer.

On top of all that you already said, a thing that I thought about while reading this was how a lot of people - or at least I did - think fusion tends to happen after you know EVERYTHING about EVERY part and know EVERYTHING about yourself and can cohesively and perfectly blend EVERY part of EVERYTHING you know about yourself, but like... I didn't know how many parts I had when I was functionally multiple, when I was fully fused, and now, I still can't really tell you other than that we often identify as a system of one (and sometimes zero if we are being honest and coy - for a lack of better words - about it; I could go on a long tangent about that, which if anyones interested, I can, but on my own post XD)

Honestly, even after fusion I was / am still finding parts and learning about them and exploring them. That isn't to say they are split or not fused into me, because they absolutely are - but that I was simply not aware or connected with those parts as they preferred to remain quiet and unacknowledged most of the time we were individual and its only now, when I can fully leverage the rest of the system, do I find myself safe and comfortable and stable enough to actually hold space to express and be those parts.

Tangential point to your post that I was thinking of and wanted to add was just that like... in regards to splitting, fusion, headcounts and fusion and all that; learning about yourself is an ongoing process that doesn't begin or stop with being plural or fusing. The way and nature of how you learn about yourself may change depending on if you are plural, singular, or fused and what not, but learning about yourself is a universal experience and its absolutely normal and absolutely human to not know everything about yourself. Even the most stable most introspective and oldest person in the world has things to learn about themselves and I just kinda wanted to throw that out there to the world.

Anyways, per usual, great post ^^

How Many Was I, Anyway?

Some reflections on the system I used to be.

To this day, I don't know how many selves I was. I don't know how many parts, how many "not-me"s, existed in my system. I never will.

We never got an exact count.

And... that's for the best.

My system was very, very polyfragmented and complex. A lot of therapists, including dissociative specialists, dropped me because of it. A member of the ISSTD even retired after working with me for a few weeks. My system was always in conflict with itself and my parts were always fighting, a lot of us resented each other.

It was really overwhelming.

Trying to get any kind of sense of how many parts of me there were was an impossible task. And one that proved to be, well... counterproductive at best.

Fixating on the numbers made my system more and more distressed. It felt like we would never recover, there were too many parts, too many fragments and little pieces to pick up.

So we stopped counting.

We worked with every part as they came, worked really hard at improving our communication and self-calming skills, wrote down tons of notes about how to notice what we're feeling and what triggers symptoms and switches, read a lot of clinical books on dissociative disorders to better understand what we were dealing with and learn new skills, shared info with a lot of others with CDDs, and did a lot of mood tracking and journaling and setting reminders to help spot patterns and work around the amnesia better.

And, slowly... the dissociative barriers came down, and one by one, every part of us fused, until their fusions and all the effort and love that went into each one created me, the fused whole.

I may not know how many I was in the past, but I can comfortably say how many I am now; I am a system of two, myself and Fennel.

I've noticed in our community we tend to focus a lot on the numbers. A lot of plural servers on discord even ask anyone who joins to disclose alter/headmate counts. A lot of folks post their numbers publicly in their bios. Everybody, systems and singlets alike, all seem to want to know - How big is your system? How many of you are there?

It always made me feel very vulnerable to think about - everyone else always seemed so sure of their numbers, or at least had an estimate if not an exact count. I had a lot of internalized shame for a long time over how many parts I had and felt really overwhelmed every time I found more or split more. It also felt like something that should be more private, something I didn't really want to share with strangers.

And, well, that's perfectly alright. I may not be in that same headspace now (pun intended), but I think there should be more acceptance towards not sharing or knowing the exact number of members in a system.

However many you are, I hope you can have a good day today.

[latejulys]

logging in to see Beautiful Images at the cost of being subjected to 9725168340 opinions

[thedivinetexts]

Ghost sharing you with the rest of the 141, simply because he honestly can't keep up with your sex drive. Ghost fucking loves you, but he isn't in the mood that often. It's a wonderful thing when he is — he always gets you sobbing from pleasure with his nice, thick cock and dirty words spilling from his mouth — but it just doesn't happen much. Between his chronic pain flaring up or his ptsd rearing its head he finds it a little difficult to want to fuck you as often as you'd like him to. He knows you're more insatiable than him and he feels guilty sometimes, not being able to keep up; even though you have never and would never complain about the infrequency of sex.

Takes a while for him to come to terms with it. Takes a bit longer for him to decide on what he thinks is the only suitable option; let his mates, the men he trusts with his life, have their way with you. Starting with the one he trusts most.

It's nerve-wracking the first time he lends you to Captain Price, some cynical part of him worried that you'll like it a bit too much and decide Ghost isn't worth sticking around for. Ghost shouldn't have been worried though — Price sends along a video of him fucking you, assumedly recorded just seconds before. The noises you make are loud and filthy. You're clearly cockdrunk and almost incomprehensible when you whine. But when Price growls the question in your ear, you don't hesitate.

"Tell us who you belong to, sweetheart, go on. Who owns you, darlin?"

"S-Simon!" You moan, nearly sobbing it out. Ghost's hand is on his clothed cock as he watches you cry and squirm. "Ah, 'm Simon's! Please, please, fuck, please!"

Price chuckles and the video cuts just as his hips speed up. A moment after Ghost is finished watching, a text pops up underneath it.

> Got yourself a good one.

[rubys-domain]

these dishes are literally everything wtf

[nfcv-saltmine]

I don't want to spoil your fun, but seriously? THIS is your favorite screenshot of the show? THIS is the big moment that makes you like their dynamic? It says a lot. Sorry but I'm going to be mean. It's nothing personal, I just so happen to have a very different opinion from yours.

Let me re-contextualize: Trevor just told Sypha and Alucard his tragic backstory. How he was a kid when his family got killed by the very people they were trying to protect. He spent his entire life after that, alone. No one to help him survive. He had to do it all himself, and due to this extremely difficult life, he became a rude alcoholic. But a rude alcoholic who still ended up going out of his way to help people. He doesn't know Sypha nor Alucard, and yet, he still brings them to the ruins of his childhood home, a place you can guess he doesn't visit often! And he leads them to his family's most precious secret. Centuries worth of knowledge and artefacts. This is an ENORMOUS deal. He's ready to go as far as expose his own vulnerability and risk to compromise what is left of his family's legacy, for the sake of saving people.

And what is the first thing Alucard does?

This. He insults Trevor's entire lineage. He insults his dead family to his fucking face. He sees the treasures accumulated and used to save innocents for centuries, wich was hidden behind a magic seal because of how precious it is... and he shits on it. KNOWING how damaged Trevor is after losing the same fucking family he is insulting with no remorse. And it's supposed to be quirky and funny because Alucard is Traumatized? TREVOR IS TOO. And do I have to remind everyone that Alucard himself commented on "having more of a childhood than him"? He knows what he's doing.

And the worst part is: Trevor is being incredibly calm here. He doesn't throw a punch, he doesn't scream, he just whispers to Alucard to shut up after he has been nothing but condescending to his whole bloodline, which honestly must be pretty triggering to Trevor so kudos to him for not getting more violent! But the MOMENT he stands up for himself because Alucard just can't stop spitting on him and everyone he ever loved and everything he and his family ever worked on, Sypha stops him. Trevor is shown to be in the wrong. Trevor is the one who needs to grow up and ignore his bully. He needs to be the better man. Friendly reminder that the worst thing Trevor did to Alucard was joking about Dracula teaching bloodletting to Lisa.

And that's not all! After Trevor did all this for the sake of saving the world, Alucard dares to call him, behind his back, "unreliable". AND HE ADDS MORE TO IT by calling him "emotionnally damaged" as well, because apparently that's something he should be ashamed of! Ah, but yes, it's actually funny because you see, he too is emotionnally damaged and probably projecting and scared and doesn't know how to deal with his own trauma... well I don't give a single shit because the cunt never once apologizes. We don't see him, at the end of the show, telling Trevor "btw I'm glad you're alive and so sorry for being a cunt to you back then", no. We don't see him express one bit of regret for his past behavior. In fact, not only does he make the handmade dolls of his "friends" say awful shit that shows how he's really seeing them, but he also look at himself in the mirror one day, see how dirty he is... and immediately compares himself to Trevor, showing us one more time what he thinks of his "friend".

And the term "friend" is way too big for whatever the trio has going on. The whole show severely lacks scenes of them actually bonding. We're offered a dynamic, and we're just supposed to go with it and accept that they are friends now, when they don't spend ONE moment actually growing closer as a group. It's worse, actually - we see them curse at each other and shittalk to each other... and THAT is what we're meant to see as bonding! The "eat shit and die" is a perfect example of that because Alucard and Trevor are still strangers to each other, yet they laugh at them cursing at each other as you would with your bestie. Except it works with your bestie, because you know each other very well. They don't. They did not earn that laugh. But it did establish very well that we were going to get fed an hostile dynamic between them and that we are just supposed to believe they are friends now. Despite not having any scene showing us that hey, they actually work together! They can talk nicely to each other sometimes! They care about each other! They respect each other!

And we're supposed to believe they are super important to each other? Please explain to me when, between the moment Alucard started to call Trevor's family "mentally ill hoarders", and the moment they killed Dracula, did they suddenly grow so close Trevor would give the man who has been insulting his entire legacy, said legacy?? (Especially if you think they spent two weeks being annoyed at each other.) It can be funny to see characters have banter and being overall nuisances to each other (granted character A doesn't literally shit on Character's B dead relatives!)... But unless they are supposed to be foes, you need to balance it with actual bonding moments. With actual moments of them being good to each other, to show they care. NFCV doesn't do that. And I can't for the life of me comprehend HOW are we supposed to be super happy and hyped for their reunion in s4, when it wasn't earned one bit! It was the OPPOSITE of earned! (The Arikado + Trevor reunion in Grimoire of Souls was way more impactful and heartwarming)

This is it, my favorite screenshot in the whole show.

It perfectly encapsulates their entire dynamic as a trio in the early seasons.

Sypha, she's just so sick of everybody's shit. They haven't been a group for more than two weeks at this point, and yet all she's heard from the boys are death threats and insults with a side of sarcasm. She has kicked one or both of them out of the wagon on more than one occasion.

Trevor, he's specifically sick of Alucard's shit. He's used to being the one who gives everyone else the shit. How the turn tables.

Alucard, he's learning what trauma is, and he's not taking it well. Better to entertain himself by giving Trevor record breaking amounts of shit than to reflect on his own suffering in any way, at least until the war is over.

[kalims]

⭒ㅤwith a disney princess

premise. surely there's been a mistake, cause there's no way someone out of place like you ended up at nrc, right? (spoiler alert: months later and they will fight whoever might drag you to rsa)

featuring. dorm leaders (from diasomnia to heartslabyul)

content. at best this might imply a female reader, given they're based of a 'princess' but I tried to take the gender vague and focused mainly on the qualities of them! mc has hair in the rapunzel part lol

note. no beta we die lol. I worked on this by group so i honestly don't remember if I accidentally gendered mc. I absolutely love idias part lmaoooo

malleus (aurora)

ooh intimidating x soft couple.

you look way out of place in somewhere like nrc of all places, given your mother is the infamous sleeping beauty (infamous, in the college’s standards that is.) your kindness is easily taken advantage of, even if you do realize it there is always forgiveness spared for the undeserving.

said kindness was extended to the quiet malleus.

surprise no surprise. he’s impeccably drawn to the sparkling aura you seem to exclude. malleus feels as though there are traces of familiar magic always hovering around you, like its embowed into your very being. a blessing would be a better word for it.

well, he’s just curious but if he were to ever ask he’d be met with the confirmation that you were, indeed blessed by the same three fairies your mother was blessed by (minus the curse… ironically he’s quite similar to the same lady that your mother loved and looked up to.)

he’s just fascinated. something as glittery as you, shiny like gold would’ve been whisked away to his nice tower, homey. he’d tell you. almost as if making its image seem heavenly. (lowkey highkey getting your consent for kidnapping)

animals always seem to flock around you everywhere you go, they sneak around to reach you. in your dorm, during lunch, even in class. there’s either a bird on your shoulder or a squirrel making itself comfortable atop your head. its a curious sight, critters don’t really like him much.

in short they run away, humans or animals alike are both afraid of his presence it seems.

so he’s incredibly still when you nudge an adorably round bird in his palm, peering at it with cautious eyes. tense as a statue lest it flies away.

cue staring contest.

he felt incredibly accomplished that day, and immersed him in the role of making this creature like him. leaving seeds, offering it the most sought off food from the valley, literally conjuring a small home for it. everything.

HE’S SO HAPPY.

malleus often asks of you to sing, perhaps its the blessing talking but its the most unique form of sound he’d ever heard in his life, the more he sings the more he wants to imbue his very being with the loveliness of your song.

always following you around like a lost puppy (lizard?) any evil that actually wants to take advantage of your unfortunate naive desire for peace and kindness is scared away. although malleus would never want your interactions to be reduced entirely because of him, he only starts looking like a demon one he figures out their motive is less than fitting for you.

“yeah, the ingredients were to complicated for me to remember—”

“oh! perhaps i can help you?”

spots the demon behind you (just your lovely giant staring them to their grave.)

“you know what i actually got it— sorry for wasting your time.” you watch them, confused as they dip.

you look to him, as though to ask what just happened but he merely casts you an oblivious glance and shrugs.

favorite past time → coddling you in his dragon form.

he was doubtful whether he should pull through in actually showing it to you, since you were already such an angel towards him. would it be a stretch if he let a selfish desire get in the way? perhaps you’d get scared if you see how large he is there—or if he’s—

idia (rapunzel)

okay that amazed smile on you was totally worth it.

wow your hair is fire.

he should have never made a comment about it in the first place because now you’re completely confused about his reference, were you living in like… in isolation? a cave? you’re a little less worse than the scarabia’s dorm leader when it comes to being oblivious.

just two idiots miscommunicating, he atleast is trying to make an effort to explain that he doesn’t mean it literally but his wording is so bad that you get absolutely nothing from what he is trying to infer.

okay your hair though.

“why is that person stuck in that square!?”

good thing ortho was near cause you almost charged towards a television and judging by the, pan!? in your grip you definitely would have smashed the screen trying to be righteous and rescue the character.

okay then. 1. don’t let you near electronics, specifically when its playing something.

you are a literal danger to his society. shivers

you’re always asking something like “what are those glowing balls on the ceiling?” those are lights… “why is that thing speaking?!” that’s a speaker… “why is it on fire?” oh that’s his hair, he doesn’t really know either it was just like that.

it does feel a little nice to get asked like that and he’d know the answer (its literally the most common knowledge ever but whtv)

EPIC! idia is now trying to figure out how resistant your hair is. its literally like, the most OP shield there is!

at first he had some reservations. like, used a knife once and was flabbergasted when it came back in half. your hair didn’t even move an inch. then he got motivated and tried a sharper sword, longer, and larger of course. he let ortho handle it cause he probably would have stabbed himself.

“wtf.”

flinches cause the half of the sharp end came completely off and stabbed right beside his head onto the wall.

what are the limits of it?! had some doubts before using one of the tech he came up with, it could literally cut through a diamond and he isn’t sure if its entirely safe but you’re all for it cause you were always curious whether your hair could even get cut in the first place.

anyway you’re way too happy to be near a lazer that could obliterate you and its kinda infecting him. yikes.

less than happy cause the lazer literally got reflected by your hair and hit itself so it’s just gone.

on the bright side he can use you as a scapegoat (in a good way)

alright. 2. don’t enrage you unless he wants to experience getting hit by a pan really hard.

wow. he felt that for days.

maybe its the hit or he’s just feeling a little woozy whenever you’re around.

definitely the pan.

vil (mulan)

bold x shy couple

pretty x pretty defender

he’s used to people heeding his suggestions but damn, are you a stubborn one.

not only have you not listened to his propositions for becoming a more refined person (cause the way you held yourself was too.. much for him to ignore, and it bothered him for a long time until he decided to help you.) but he can respect you, he supposes. not a lot of people can stay true to themselves.

it seems like epel, the boy himself has taking a liking to you. no wonder he’s been becoming more rebellious lately.

vil would never stoop so low to purposely direct someone advice that would change their entire self, decimate their unique traits. but all he told you was out of the goodness of his heart, if you’d be less clumsy of your ways your reputation would be better for the long run.

not being respected amongst nrc is never a good thing.

still, you’re still headstrong. never too overconfident, nor cocky. just a humble soul, that’s rare so he tends to stick by you if he ever wanted an honest opinion cause people just tell him what he wants to nowadays. vil never enjoyed the biased remarks.

more often than not he enjoys making your already pretty face, prettier than it is.

finds out you’re no bark and all bite, he never even knew you could take down someone who has an advantage over you in physical terms. come on, its savanaclaw. apparently the guy had spared him an unsavory comment and (apparently, in your defense. only told him a few words, got attacked so it was self defense.)

it came a surprise to him. seeing as you’re generally relaxed in nature, your military prowess a mystery to most since you seemed content with resorting matters with peace. though you seem to lack more restraint when it comes to your close relationships.

vil scolding you in the infirmary (you don’t have a scratch, and the guy whose pride you handed back to is in some corner lamenting cause he can hear you guys.) and you just taking it.

contrary to how you first treated to each other. you seem to be more prone to his opinions, or suggestions the more you progress with each other. he admits maybe he was too outright in his manner of speaking the first time, but it only highlights the change you’d gone through with each other.

you’re the perfect doll, in a way. not in a demeaning way or anything but its so satisfying to him to use products on your face just for the sole reason that you sit so still. his absolute favorite past time is skin care together even if you mostly just follow his lead.

you and epel must be kindred spirits, once he was on his way to retire to the indoors of pomefiore. seeing as it started raining, heavy so it meant it would stay for a while. and then paused when he spotted you both sharing words.

and planting apple seeds in the rain? both of you are stained with the rain, some dirt and mud alike. and vil had never looked so mortified. so just cause you don’t protest when he cares for you doesn’t mean you’re bothered by getting dirty he guesses.

“you both… clean yourselves up, i’ll brew medicine lest you fall under the weather.” ← disappointed sigh.

kalim (jasmine)

ended up waiting for you both to finish under the covers and ushered you both to baths.

you have a tiger!

just living char x their absolute biggest stan

wow you have a tiger.

did he mention you have a tiger?

majority of nrc knows not to mess with you haha, if it’s not obvious already with the seemingly lax tiger that behaves like some sort of overgrown cat following you around and growls at someone when you aren’t looking.

then you always raise a brow at the people who tell you otherwise. “bab doesn’t bite.”

kalim is lowkey highkey their biggest fan, i mean. jamil is having the worst year of his life dragging kalim away wherever you seem to be because the first apparent instinct of the boy is to try to pet the tiger cause it’s ‘cute’.

at some point jamil had to investigate your routine throughout the day, what you do, where you go at specific times like after classes conclude to make sure kalim doesn’t cross path with you.

well, not necessarily you but rather your… tiger. which is hard, honestly. you seem to visit scarabia a lot for a reason unknown. jamil would be suspicious you’d be planning something but all you really do is stay out on the balcony with your companion.

but alas, fate would have it otherwise.

“hi,” kalim blurts before he could remember his friend’s warning. you turn, along with your… also friend who watches him closely. you blurt out a greeting back, seeing as it’s courtesy, you seem to be amused at his fascinated eyes staring at your tiger.

“want a pet?” you offer, bab making sounds of protest.

jamil almost had a heart attack seeing the two of you attached by the hip, only calming down a few weeks later. seeing as your companion wouldn’t pose as much danger as he assumed, seeing as the tiger’s protectiveness started extending to the ray of sunshine.

rich couple ig. everyone overhears your conversations and doubles over. “i had a small statue of gold made for bab, for you.” and then a; “oh, thanks. but we already have a lot at home. hmm…”

actually it’s not really the manner of being attached, more like two following you. kalim, and then your cutie pie tiger.

your reserved nature in particular greatly contrasts kalim, yapper x listener i guess. although the object of his interest was initially because of bab, he might as well be another overgrown cat of yours cause he seems to love touch.

its concerning cause bab themselves felt challenged for your affection and when they spotted kalim’s head nestled on your lap they ‘accidentally’ kick him off.

in a way you seemed untouchable, pet included. you don’t seem to mind kalim much, people might even go as far as to say you enjoy his company. occasionally the vice of his dorm as well, the three of you have this sort of aura that screams ‘don’t approach’

said aura is in the form of a very big cat.

azul (ariel)

one time you admitted to having not much friends and three heads turned towards you. face twisted incredulously.

he doesn’t know why but you looked like you went through ten stages of grief (3 more cause the 7 definitely wasn’t enough.) when you took a glance at him, during the time you were looking around, you almost went past him, actually. but then doubled back immediately.

that’s concerning.

morally suspicious (devil in disguise) x angel

azul often asks your opinions out of habit, he himself isn’t even sure when it started but he considers you a factor in decisions. though he does prefer to keep you out certain… endeavors of his away entirely, no need to concern your innocence in his doings.

as such he often uses the twins to steer you away from trouble cause you seem to have no sense for it whatsoever, whenever there’s a fight brewing instead of walking off you stride closer. curious to whatever was happening.

and, you believe too easily apparently.

jade had held you by your shoulders and directed you away from the fight before the dispute reached you and inevitably dragged you in. “why are they fighting?”

he replied. “ah, well. they inhaled an unpleasant shroom and got affected.” your mortified face spoke you believed him. human culture! you thought.

your brain should be inspected honestly. floyd told him all about the pile of stuff you had “found” in your dorm, ranging from innocent collectibles to items that brought the question of whether or not they were really yours but you didn’t really claim otherwise, just that you found em’ so no more questioning.

azul doesn’t even wanna know why you started staring at mushrooms like they were a mortal enemy of all living forms. speaking of, the three of them didn’t even consider that you could be from the sea as well. seeing as, well. you have two feet, even if they have the same.

besides the fact you’re too clumsy for your own good you sure had no fear when you leapt overboard during a field trip cause a trinket that caught your eye fell and gave the entirety of the attendants a heart attack. floyd had patted him on the back and wishes him condolences.

also the shock of the century when you emerged, pretty tail and all. holding it the trinket up like you just found it the most fascinating thing on the globe.

since then underwater dates were a thing. which took a lot of prompting honestly, you didn’t know he was a merman either, curiously asking him what kind he was. in nature, you were persistent. like a need to sate your questions so he eventually relented.

even then, it took a while before he let you see the form. ← to his fluster you seemed engrossed in this form of his. swimming around him and asking questions.

now azul also have a small pile of items hidden in a box beneath his bed, all from you. which, upon being opened would be mistaken for unused items since its literally random stuff, and a concerning favor towards forks.

oh yeah. sometimes the tweels crash your date.

you could be in his office, going about your business. chilling on his couch and playing with one of your treasures and be completely unaware of the ominous discussion ongoing within the three about anemones? contracts?

“what are you guys talking about?”

“hairstyles for azul.”

“what—”

“ooh. i can brush his hair so you can style it!” pulls out a fork.

leona (belle)

“oh my sevens, WAIT—”

i was having a crisis trying to think of a dynamic so why not just, beauty x beast.

leona is less than pleased to admit he doesn’t like you much. or atleast, he used to. it was clear his feelings of you was reciprocated, based on the uninterested side glances you cast him. your type, well liked, pristine, proper, and informed reminds him all to well of what mold he was forced into. though it never really fit.

you on the other hand, just dislike him in general. more pointedly as to how he acted, too self righteous in your opinion. he sure spends a lot of time moping about how he could have been king when he’s acting like he’d be a terrible one. you’d say it to his face but even you aren’t too crude.

if you’re both looking at the bright side though, you’d probably prefer each other’s company above others. you’re quiet, perfect for napping around. he’s surprisingly true to himself, his morals aren’t too bad either.

as such, to your disdain he now naps in the library. which you had titled your own space, but he didn’t really just care.

relatively you’re a lot more cool headed than he is, you told him concerns about his laziness which he weaved through. after opening up with each other… well you know how it goes.

okay, fine. you no longer berate leona for napping at the public space, quickly shut up when he threatened you. “i’m gonna tell you the real reason ‘m here nowadays if you don’t calm down. and it ain’t the peace i’m here for.” he eyes you, and you shut up after that.

leona doesn’t know if he should be amused or annoyed at the fact that you stand up to whatever he says. ‘that’s rude,’ this. ‘are you out of your mind?’ that. at some point where he doesn’t wanna admit, leona had disliked seeing you upset (particularly towards him) that he started listening.

at others is a different story though. he will gladly watch you shut down someone else.

sometimes he makes weird remarks, like. “throw an egg at them, who knows might hatch into a chick and give them the company they’ve been lacking.” ← just bullies random people while you defend them. “what? don’t be stupid, eggs that are sold don’t hatch into chicks.”

you often lament in his arms, regretting ever coming near his sleeping frame cause next thing you know you’re subjected to prison, and you had accidentally dropped the book you were reading so even if you try to reach for it he’s pulling you back.

will reach for it if you ask tho lol.

just one look from you has him suddenly behaved tbh.

bothers your productive time by crashing it with his opposite word of productive idk im to lazy to check. more often than not tramples over your things, but always looks dead to life when you end up scolding him heavily.

also kicks out the animals that gravitate towards you for some reason, got jealous of a bird nestled in your hair once cause apparently you paid too much attention to it.

apparently told ruggie to fetch books for you when you’re running out, at that point you might actually milk the nrc library with how fast you burn through them.

“you’re not even from here, what do—”

“actually. originally from times before, they—”

riddle (cinderella)

got lectured about history, eugh.

easy to fluster x enthusiastic and sweet

how are you so nice.

you’ve got most of the population of nrc enamored with your natural charm alone, though some do tend to mock you. unfortunately they aren’t wrong, you really do fit in more at a different school like rsa with your personality.

i mean you fit the bill, kind, pretty, talks to animals.

good for you though. cause riddle would prefer a behaved student than a troublesome one anyway so he would definitely dig you lmao.

speaking of. he definitely goes to you whenever the hedgehogs are lost in the maze, or the flamingos just don't wanna step out the farther spot from the pond, somehow they love you in whatever you do.

as in, you spoke to the hedgehogs with a lower tone. almost like a coo, and he almost tells you to stop because that's the universal worse tone to talk to hedgehogs until... it nuzzles into you?!

flabbergasted, he can only watch.

sevens... you're just so pleasant to be around he could die.

at some point it felt like you were the epitome of being kind. riddle understand that the virtue was just embedded into you, letting others berate you for whatever... he even thought you were too kind for a place like nrc where the complete opposite traits are admired.

you are, but only to those who deserve it. riddle had the pleasure to spot you nitpicking a crude student and they looked like they were gonna burst into tears.

so... you knew what to say almost always. when troubled, he'd learn that it's best to talk to you cause you'd know what to say to ease his worries, when you're treated wrongly? sevens.. you also know what to say.

but, in a putting whoever in their place way?

(idk man I'm just rambling at this point lmao idk how to write a cinderella reader.)

riddle has grown accustomed to random critters breaking in the door. well, he was used to animals in the first place. or atleast thought he was when he opened a door in the dorm and almost yelled at the sight of a group of mice looking like they were having conspiracies.

a few weeks after that he knocked on doors before opening them.

was also very disturbed when you announced they were your friends.

I don't know. I feel like he'd lowkey be the type to write your name in a heart on the back of his notebook and straighten his face like: 'what in the world am I doing' but not erasing it anyways.

over time, your little 'friends' got used to him, and vice versa. at the very least he isn't screaming at their sudden visits, be it flying through the window or just popping out of something they climbed on.

who's screaming though are his dorm members, and he's found humors in the encounters.

"ah, thank you, myrcella." he nods gingerly, toward the very tiny white mice who seems to twirl around, touched by the thanks. the little thing was nice enough to carry the pen he'd been using to scribble down the main definitions he'd been copying from the textbook.

in the middle of reaching for a glass of water the door opens, riddle watches one of his residents striding in rambling. probably about to be exposed to the sight of a group of mice sleeping on top of each other atop a cushion he'd personally placed for them.

and maybe the birds. whom seemed comfortable by his small collection of plants.

"dorm leader, octavinelle stude—GAHHHH—"

[coconutdays]

going crazy

s. your boyfriend, handsome and secure suguru geto, doesn't get jealous

w.c. 4.8k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!

a/n: based on my seat taker biker!geto au! also I feel this does not live up to seat taker! but I tried my best! so I hope you can still enjoy! likes reblogs and comments r always appreciated to know y’all liked it!!!

your boyfriend does not have a single jealous bone in his body. it’s convenient you suppose?

you’ve heard nightmares of insecure men who have to know where there girlfriends are every second of every hour, the direction they’re even going to utter a breath in. the occasional story of a girl who can’t speak to any men whatsoever because her boyfriend will berate her for doing so. 

although you do always keep suguru in the loop about what you’re doing and don’t really talk to guys because at the end of the day, more often than not, they always do not plan on just being your friend, he never expected those things out of you. It was a silent form of showing your respect for him. and he did the same out of instinct too, first too. 

but aside from that, he doesn’t show any jealousy.

there was a time he even tried to set you up with toji zenin when he was still crushing on you. 

your boyfriend is a little peculiar, you’re very well aware of that, but you find his confidence in himself sexy. because you couldn’t look anywhere else if you wanted to. he was handsome, his face chiseled so prettily it was painful. his smooth voice that always had you reeling to get him to talk more. and his spine tattoo that always made you blush at the sight of it befriending your scratch marks after a particularly rough night, 

so you don’t care about the way you dress, because he won’t control what you wear. in fact, it’s one of the things you both love about each other, a recent discovery now that you’ve been dating for a month. suguru is an avid fan of the way you dress, relishing in what new outfit he’ll see you in whenever he sees you that day, and if not possible, asking for a picture. and you love how he loves it. appreciating the fact that he loves when you wear booby shirts to campus or dates with him or particularly tight jeans that attract eyes aside from his, but are worn for the sole purpose of serving cunt–and riling your boyfriend up.

it all comes together to why you wear the dress you do tonight to go clubbing with him and some friends. it’s honestly the hottest thing suguru will have seen you in so far. yes, your previous halloween costumes were something alright, but this…was different. halloween was like a month ago and the outfits for those events were meant to be slutty, purely slutty. this look was meticulously planned by you the moment you ordered the dress online. the sheer dress and its sparkles had been running across your mind that entire week of shipping with the perfect sultry way you planned to do your hair and makeup. 

you 

hey can we carpool later tonight, my dress isnt motorcycle proof :/

suguru

sure princess.  can i get a peek?

you

don’t feel like it hehe wait for it sugu <3

suguru

tease

any other time, he would’ve more than likely have gotten his peek at your outfit, you are weak to his demands naturally, but this was something he genuinely would have to wait for. pictures would not do you justice and you wanted to catch your boyfriends raw reaction when he saw the look for the first time . 

and you were right.

when he went up to your apartment to pick you up and you opened the door, the reaction was worth the wait. the constant warmth your boyfriend’s gaze always held fell the moment his eyes landed on you and took a moment to breathe you in. 

you saw his pupils dart to your cleavage first, staring for a hard second, then to the tightness against your waist and hips bringing attention to your figure. the small quirk of his eyebrow seconds within that let you know he spotted the thong hugging your body under the sheer dress. he did a once over of your legs, looking at what shoes you were wearing, before he brought his eyes up to look at your face again.

he doesn’t say anything, instantly moving forward and getting rid of the space between the both of you to take your head in his hands and plant his lips on yours. you press a hand against his chest when you feel him swipe his tongue across the top of your mouth so hungrily. 

“you’re going to kiss off my lipgloss sugu.” you giggle, heaving a little as you press your forehead against his, blinking up happily at him. 

his stare is firm as his blown up pupils stare back into you, “sorry pretty girl, couldn’t help myself.”

“and why’s that hm?” you bite your lip through your smile, eagerly waiting for his answer, still forehead to forehead with him, his hands still holding you in place.

his hair is in that half up half down duo you go so feral for, you realize this detail when he says, “you know why.”

“no I don’t,” you drag on, a teasing lilt in your voice

“because,” he drags one of his hands down to caress your neck softly with his thumb, you can see a slight crease in his eyelids at your playfulness, “my girlfriend is trying to get away with first degree murder right now.”

“you like the dress?” you give him a toothy smile and you can slightly catch his gaze turn hungry at the sight of it

suguru suddenly raises you up by clasping his arms behind you, below your butt and on your thigh, so you’re above him when he looks at you lovingly, “like is an understatement.”

“well i like your hair today,” you compliment him, still giggly

“yeah?” he smiles, “i’m glad.”

it’s your first time ever going to the club with suguru, so there’s some sort of powerful feeling lingering when you enter the loud building holding hands with him. you’re going in belonging to someone and so is he, as opposed to other people going in and hoping to catch a body tonight or at least a good grind on the dancefloor–satoru cough cough.

the white haired maniac’s influence gets all of you a vip table with liquor already waiting for you and when you get there, suguru sits and plants you on his lap, arms loosely wrapped around your waist.

It’s when you look forward, you see toji zenin give you a quick once over from where he’s seated near satoru. and you ignore it, you always do. he’s never made an advance on you ever since you and suguru became a thing, he’s respectful of the relationship, but his eyes can never lie, he’s into you. it’s why you’ve never uttered a word to him and why he doesn’t either. and you can’t really blame him if the purpose of tonight's look was to turn all heads, not just your boyfriend’s.

“you smell good baby,” suguru mutters into your ear as he brushes a hair away from your face, “are you using the perfume i got you?”

you wrap your arms around his shoulders when you respond with a nod of your head and, “yeah. I finally ran out of my old one.”

“good girl.” he smiles appreciatively before placing a tender kiss on your neck

the softness of it makes you giggle a little and crane your neck a little, suguru pinches your side to tease you for it. 

it’s when a certain lullaby of a song comes on that your ears perk up and your boyfriend observes the reaction, looking up at you and rubbing circles into your waist, “what’s up baby?”

within an instant all the girls at your table begin to get up and rush to the dance floor and you turn to suguru, already starting to unwrap his arms from your waist.

“i have to go dance this babe,” you say hurriedly, like a little kid leaving their mom the moment they see the bouncy castle go up.

suguru can say nothing before he watches you run off to join the other girls on the dance floor, eyebrows raised in amusement at your antics then in reaction to your immediate inclination to start dancing. 

you look pretty, he thinks as he reaches over to serve himself a glass of whiskey. 

and he continues to think it as he ‘talks’ to his friends, nodding and giving small mhms when all he’s really doing is watching you live it up at the center of the club. 

you’re ethereal, the only star in that murky puddle of bodies. maybe your dress is part of the reason for all that shine and glow you’re giving off, but nothing beats the pretty little smile on your face that says you’re having a good time. it’s turning him on to be honest. he always wants to shove himself inside of you when you bear that toothy smile at him. 

and other people think the same, he notes. 

he’s always seen the stares, he knows you’re a sight to behold. there hasn’t been a day where he isn’t aware that so many other people want you. he knew it when you were merely the smart, hot girl he had a crush on his lit class, with so many other guys obviously paying a little more attention when it was your turn to speak, and he knows it even more now with your male following on social media and the way he constantly gets sized up just for being next to you. for fuck's sake he's heard toji zenin talk about how bad you are before he knew about your thing with suguru at the halloween party, hell, he still catches the frat president unable to control the way his eyes eat you up when you're near.

“done already?” satoru asks haughtily when he sees all of the girls that went to dance come back heaving a little

it’s been an hour since they all left at the start of that first song.

“y/n’s still there though,” one of them breathes, taking satoru’s drink from him, “she does not stop.”

“yeah, she doesn’t,” suguru laughs a little, looking back at you, still as energetic as when you first got there.

fuck, you're beautiful.

speaking of before,

he’s painfully more aware of it when he notices the number of eyes gravitating towards you from the dancefloor, tables, and the bar.

it’s like a bunny in a room full of wolves. or those scenes where scooby and shaggy are in a dark room and a thousand red eyes pop up to blink at them. the eyes to you ratio is beginning to get a little mind boggling now that he sees it in a real life setting. this is not the handful of guys checking you out when you go to the library with him or the nth guy staring at you when you walk past with your boyfriend next to you. this is a huge club with you in the middle and catching the eye of almost every guy in here, most of whom come to this place with plans of taking a girl home or putting moves on her. 

the thought manifests itself when a blonde frat bro walks up to you and tries to dance with you. suguru’s heart stops a little for some reason. he’s seen guys come up to you before, actually talking to you and trying to get your number, so he shouldn’t feel this irked when he knows the guy is going to be disappointed by your answer. he actually wants to go up to the guy and beat his face in.

the surge of pride that courses through his body is immense when he sees you put a hand between you and the guy and you make an annoyed face, all before strutting off and making your way back to the table. 

he manspreads a little more for you to sit between his legs, draping one arm on your thigh, the other holding onto his whiskey.

“a guy tried to dance with me,” you huff when you sit down, reaching for suguru’s drink, which he hands over without a second thought, now using the other free hand to fully hug you.

“I saw,” he says, perching his chin your shoulder, watching as you take a sip of the whiskey and cradle the cup in your hands.

“dance with me,” you turn to look at him and pout, “i don’t want guys coming up to me.”

“but you look so good rejecting them.” suguru teases, smirking a little at you

when your face deapans, he laughs and hugs you tighter, “we’ll go in a bit. rest your pretty feet for a second, don’t want them to tire out.”

“okay,” you slump into his hold, pouting

and suguru did keep his promise, like always. he took you dancing after a few minutes of rest and letting you drink the rest of his whiskey.

he protected you from any other guys trying to come up to you, evident in the way no guys even dared get close from a ten feet radius.

he kept you close and let you dance with him, hands appreciatively holding onto you when you pressed your body against his. it was much different to the dancing from that first time at satoru’s party, he was really holding onto you this time. his hands always found your ass, your hips, even the underside of your boobs during every second of every song.

and suguru isn’t a jealous guy, so it was a little weird to you when you saw him notice a guy oogling you and he immediately pulled you in to makeout with him on the dancefloor. it was unlike any other makeout session you had ever had with him before. he was gripping your ass while his other hand held your neck, that wasn’t new, he always did that, but his energy about it was so…all consuming. 

all you know, is that instantly had you horny and you couldn’t help the mewl you let out after he squeezed you in his hold.

“let’s go,” he spoke a bit tensely into your ear so you could hear him past the music.

and you were never one to go against him because everything suguru did always made sense and worked for you, so you nodded mindlessly and said, “okay.”

when you got to suguru’s apartment, he immediately pushed you against the door and resumed the makeout session he had started at the club. one of his hands was planted against the door while the other roughly gripped your waist to keep you close to him. 

“If you ever see toji, i want you to run the other direction,” he spoke ominously against your lips

the command had you furrowing your eyebrows, you mean of course yes you'd do that, but you never would’ve thought he’d ask it from you. he never really cared to address your actions when it came towards other guys. suguru wasn’t ever jealous…nonetheless, you agree meekly, taken aback by his roughness, “okay.”

all your boyfriend did in response was let out a gruff sound of acknowledgement before pressing his body further against yours and beginning to tug your dress off. he started by pushing down the straps, then pushing the upper half down, including your strapless bra until your tits popped out. 

he pushed both of them together the moment they peeked out and then let a glob of spit drop down onto one of your nipples rather obscenely before he went down to mouth at that same breast. it had you keening, you could feel your thong becoming nonexistent with the way you were starting to drench through it.

a bite from suguru had you squeaking before he continued his ministrations on your other breast while his hands worked on pushing the rest of your dress all the way down, even your thong since it caught onto the tight material of the dress.

you were left completely naked in front of him now and he manhandled you by suddenly picking you up and pinning you against the wall next to the door. he let one hand hold one of your legs to his waist, while the other went under and quickly swiped a finger across your folds with ease due to the wetness

“so easy baby,” he muttered against your lips before plunging a finger all the way in and curving it upwards

“you’re being mean,” you complain, feeling completely flustered at his brash actions

“what’s so mean about making you feel good hm?” he leans back to get a good look at you when he plunges another finger in and starts to push them in and out quickly, watching as your eyebrows knit and you start to mewl, “atta girl.”

“nothing,” you mumble, brainless as you wrap your arms around his neck and hook him in closer with your legs, “ow!”

he started adding a third finger when he felt like you were starting to open up more, however your small complaint started dying into a moan when he increased his pace with the third finger. 

“that’s a lot sugu,” you heave through delirious breaths, flustered at the fact that he was staring so intensely at how you were sucking him in

your comment had him finally looking up at you and you dont know if you’d rather he go back to staring at your pussy, because he was giving that same intense stare to you now. the all heavy pressure of his gaze was entirely being directed at your own eyes now, and how could you meet that same gaze equally when he was three fingers into you and making you moan like a slut.

suguru might have granted you a quick mercy when he leaned against you, quickening the pace of his fingers so you could get louder, and breathed into your ear, muttering lowly, “my cock’s a lot more than three fingers but you always cream all over it.”

the dirty sentence has you pulling suguru closer to you, and trying to trap him where he was so you wouldn’t have to look at him in the flustered state he put you in. but your boyfriend didn’t have it, forcing himself out of your grip, and craning his neck back to go back to looking at you.

he pulled out all three of fingers just to land a sharp slap across your pussy before plunging all of them into you again, “let me watch you baby. be good for me, okay?”

he honestly expects you to be able to answer him when three of his very large fingers are stretching you wide open and curling on that one spot that always has you crumbling, you know he expects you to because he turns his head a little when you don’t answer and lands another slap before going back to fingering you.

“speak up princess,” he orders so easily and so sweetly, like he’s not torturing your body right now

and you do your best to force the words out of you, legs quivering and resisting the urge to writhe in his grasp when you gasp, “ok–okay.”

“good girl,” he almost groans with a snarl as he suddenly stops fingering you open and hoists you over his shoulder, a squeal leaves your mouth at the action.

he’s walking you both to his bedroom, you notice from the path of his hallway made out from your view, and the realization doesn’t last long before suguru brings you down again, then pushes you down and bends you over his bed. he lands a slap to your ass and you can makeout the rustle of him getting naked when he says softly, “grab the pillows and put them under your stomach angel.”

and you listen, reaching easily for both of his large and fluffy pillows, and putting them under your abdomen.

you feel suguru’s heavy length press against your ass and bare pussy when he presses up against you, gripping onto the crease between your thighs and ass, and starts mouthing hot and heavy kisses across your spine. you whine a complaint at the fact that you feel so good, but you know you could feel so much better if he just put it in already.

“what?” suguru notices the pitch that you always make when you’re complaining, continuing his line of affection down your spine

“put it in,” you pout, wiggling your ass for emphasis and hissing a little when you feel his cock graze your lips at the action

suguru gives a last kiss to the bottom of your spine before coming back up and grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing your head up so he could look at you, “how bad do you want it?”

“really bad sugu.” you mewl, feeling gratification from the sting of his hold on you

“you want me to fill up your little hole? even when we both know you’re gonna start crying that it’s beating your pussy up, yeah?” he questions cruelly 

“mhm,” you nod pathetically, “even if i do.”

his lips twitch a little at your admission and he yanks on your hair a little harder when he lands a sloppy kiss on your lips that has a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths when he pulls away.

he stands back up and lands another stinging slap across your ass, groaning, “my pretty fuckin ass.”

as if he couldn’t get any dirtier, suguru then grabs either of your cheeks and spreads them apart to get a good view of your sex, the sudden exposure of which makes you feel even wetter. that last fact seems of no use to suguru when you feel a large glob of spit land and run down your hole.

you suck in breath when you feel suguru start to rub his tip across your folds.

“sloppy little pussy,” he mutters before pressing into you. and you both groan when he starts to inch himself in even further.

the moan you let out when he completely pulled out and slammed back in was sinful and the noises that followed when he started doing that again and again at a faster pace without mercy had you outright screaming. 

you felt like you were constantly breathless, constantly trying to breathe. he hadn’t ever been this hard on you before.

and you thought you knew what hard was from him before.

“i know, i know,” he whispered against your neck when he pressed himself down against you and started jackhammering even closer to your cervix, so on point with your gspot too that you felt your orgasm starting to build up

a particular gutteral squeal from you had him breathing a “so cute” while he never relented his brutish force against you

“sugu–sugu,” you reached around for one of his arms, heaving, grabbing onto it while he violently moved the both of you, “i’m gonna–mmm–i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum!”

the confession had suguru suddenly changing positions, hooking his arms up and under your armpits to pull you up to stand flush against his body while he slammed up against you ferociously. it unexpectedly had your high crashing against you after a graze of your gspot.

“that’s it baby, that’s it.” suguru consoled when he felt you twitch in his hold and your juices dripping all over his abdomen and cock, “such a good fucking girl.”

all you wanted to do was fall down and rest, but the most you could muster was letting your body go limp in your boyfriend’s unrelenting hold, letting him use you as he pleased.

“ ‘s too much sugu,” you whined as the overstimulation started kicking in

It didn’t get him to stop at all.

“remember what you said earlier hm?” he brought up, breathing heavy as he lifted a foot up to plant it against the edge of the bed. it was leverage for the scream worthy pace he started forcing on you now.

tears started to fall down your cheeks at the overstimulation. it was so good, too good. It was all so sinfully good. 

you felt your walls start to flutter again at your second nearing orgasm when you sniffled from the tears. and although your boyfriend still evilly abused your pussy, he leaned down and moved your face to the side with one hand so he could be face to face with you. 

you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead he started licking your tears off.

it was the catalyst for your orgasm and you thrashed rather hard against suguru, who you could feel suck in a breath at the sporadic clenches of your pussy.

“fuck,” he breathed harshly, pulling you even tighter against him to more easily meet his thrusts and you could feel his cock twitch as a symptom of his incoming orgasm.

that, and he started to speak up filthily.

“Mine–mine–mine–mine.” he reiterated quickly, punctuating each time with a thrust, “fuck ‘s all mine. god can’t get enough of you pretty baby. so fucking slutty and pretty. fuck–fuck–next time i see toji giving you heart eyes im gonna pump my cum inside you so he can see it running down your fucking legs. fuck–you like that baby? what–a–good–good–fucking–girl. tell me you want that baby.”

scrambling for any piece of sanity just to tell your boyfriend what he wants to hear, in hopes of spurring his lust, you moan out weakly, “i want it sugu i want it.”

“yeah? you want him to see me dripping out of your pretty fuckin pussy? god–i fucking–want–it. he’ll never get to fucking know what it’s like to cream this little hole.”

“so–so dirty sugu,” you moan sheepishly at the embarrassing realization that he might just make you cum a third time because of the added spur of his pussy drunk words. 

“pussy’s fucking dirty,” snarls back at you, pulling you closer to him, “can feel you clenching around me. know you fucking like it.”

the shut down of his words had you shaking in attraction to his ability to shut you up like no other.

“never–forget–you’re–mine,” he thrusts through, “ ‘s fucking pussy, your ass, your tits, your body, your pretty fucking face, ‘s all mine. you don’t need anybody but me. i’m yours i’m yours i’m yours. ‘s dick ‘s all yours, everything, baby. take it–take it–take it.” 

his breathing was starting to get heavier and you could feel his abs start twitching against you, a sign of his orgasm building up just as yours was all over again.

so it surprised you when suguru pulled out and threw you onto the bed, your legs hanging off the edge before he picked them up and slanted them up against his body by hugging them close. “come here, come here,” he quickly let one arm go for a second to guide himself into you again before wrapping it around your legs again. he repositioned the one leg of his back on top of the bed for his leverage and leaned forward a bit to go back to his brutal thrusts. 

“wanna see your face when you cum again.” he muttered as he stared at you squealing and moaning lewdly at his ministrations

suguru started kissing and mouthing at your calves while keeping you in a deadlock of eye contact. his cheeks and ears were tinged pink and his hair had fallen out of the half up half down do he had it in earlier. 

the worshipping of your legs and eye contact had to have been the last straw for you, because after a certain lick of your skin, you started crashing, feeling yourself let go across the entire lower half of your boyfriend, resisting the urge to cover your face in embarrassment because he recently made it a point that he really really liked seeing your face when you came.

the point was proven when he followed soon after you, thrusting half haphazardly into you as he blew his load inside of you in time with every squeeze of your cunt. it was accompanied by a litter of painful bites across your calves and heavy breathing from your boyfriend. he looked like he came hard, it felt like he did, considering how every spurt of his cum was sharply thrusted into you, making you wince in pain every time his tip kissed your cervix.

both of you were breathing heavily after, especially suguru, his skin covered in a thicker veil of sweat than you, who was simply taking all of that force he was exerting. he was still holding onto your legs, resting his forehead on the bare skin of your foot that wasn’t covered by your heel. 

his eyes were closed and he licked his lips, a bit tired, as he spoke, “i think i do get jealous after all, i’m sorry.”

his confession made you slightly clench around him, making him suck a breath in at the sensitivity while you breathlessly giggled, “that’s okay, i never said you couldn’t.”

suguru lazily bit your calf again as a sign of retaliation, "you could sound less excited."

[lilyprettyremy]

10 Bad Habits to Let Go of for a Beautiful Life (Trust Me, You’ll Thank Yourself)

We all have those habits that hold us back — some sneakier than others. And while no one’s perfect, a little spring cleaning of your daily habits can unlock a happier, healthier life. Ready to drop the bad vibes and level up? Here are 10 bad habits to leave behind for good!

1. The Comparison Game — It’s Gotta Go

We’ve all done it. Scrolling, looking at someone’s perfect life, and feeling like we’re not enough. But honestly? Comparing yourself to others is a losing game. Focus on your own growth, and unfollow anything or anyone that makes you feel less-than. Your journey is yours alone, and it’s beautiful in its own way. Keep your eyes on your own lane!

2. Procrastinating Like It’s a Sport

We get it — that “I’ll do it tomorrow” energy feels good in the moment, but it’s also a trap. The more you put off tasks, the more they pile up and haunt you. Trust, the best feeling is getting stuff done now and freeing up your mind for the fun stuff later. Break it down, set a timer, and just start. You’ll feel like a boss when you’re done.

3. Saying Yes to Everything (Even When You Don’t Want To)

No is a full sentence, babe! If you’re constantly saying yes to things that don’t align with your goals or drain your energy, it’s time to stop. Overcommitting leads to burnout, and life’s too short for that. Start setting boundaries and prioritize what makes you feel good. Your time is precious, so treat it like gold.

4. Relying on Everyone Else’s Approval

We all love a little validation, but depending on it? That’s a recipe for insecurity. Your worth isn’t measured by someone else’s likes or approval. The only validation you really need is your own. So hype yourself up, celebrate your wins, and be proud of the progress you’re making, regardless of who’s watching.

5. Avoiding Your Finances Like It’s Scary

Finances don’t have to be terrifying! Ignoring them might feel easier in the moment, but getting a handle on your money situation is so empowering. Start small — track your spending, create a budget, and set a savings goal. The sooner you take control, the more stress-free your future will feel.

6. Holding Grudges Like They’re Trophies

Honestly, holding onto grudges only weighs you down. Letting go of past negativity isn’t about excusing people’s behavior — it’s about freeing yourself. Don’t let old situations control your peace. Forgiveness is for you, babe. The less baggage you carry, the lighter you’ll feel.

7. Talking Down to Yourself

Would you say those mean things to your best friend? Didn’t think so! So why do we let ourselves get away with it? Cut out the negative self-talk and replace it with something a little more kind and uplifting. You deserve better from yourself. You wouldn’t believe how much your mindset can change once you start being nice to yourself.

8. Expecting Everything to Be Perfect

Perfection is a myth, and chasing it will only leave you stressed and frustrated. Life happens in the in-between moments — the imperfect, messy, beautifully real ones. Give yourself some grace and celebrate progress, not perfection. A “good enough” life is often a perfect one in disguise.

9. Staying in Your Safe Bubble

Your comfort zone might feel cozy, but nothing grows there! Stepping outside of it might be scary, but it’s where all the magic happens. Whether it’s trying something new, starting a project, or meeting new people, discomfort leads to growth. Don’t let fear hold you back — take the leap!

10. Blaming Everything Else for What’s Not Going Right

It’s easy to point fingers and blame outside circumstances, but taking responsibility is where real change starts. You’ve got more control than you think! Instead of dwelling on what’s going wrong, focus on what you can change. You’ve got the power to turn things around — it’s all in your hands.

These bad habits? They’re not serving you, and it’s time to leave them in the past. Letting go of what’s holding you back will clear the way for bigger, better things. You’re already halfway there just by recognizing what needs to change. So let go, level up, and watch your life get a little more beautiful, one habit at a time.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

・゜゜Gamer Ellie Headcannons ・．

NSFW CONTENT BELOW, MDNI

✧.* Gamer Ellie wears those plaid boxer-shorts around the house adorned with some random t-shirt she often sleeps in. When she's out and about, she loves her classic flannel or white wife-beaters, sports bra peeking out of the fabric when she moves just ever so slightly. Converse and doc-martins all the way. You'll beg her not to wear it in public, but Ellie's got this one black Call of Duty t-shirt that is she is obsessed with.

✧.* Gamer Ellie ismore introverted than anything. She likes staying inside with you and watching movies with you rather than going on restaurant dates. Speaking of movies, gamer Ellie would be more into comedy and sci-fi than anything. I've mentioned in previous headcannons Ellie would be a huge Jurassic park fan, but some other movie / shows she'd be begging you to watch with her are Airplane, Star Trek, and Pulp Fiction. Anything with action or on her level of dumb humor, and Star Trek for when she's geeking out. It's her guilty pleasure.

✧.* Gamer Ellie's favorite type of physical touch is having your fingers running through her hair. She likes to feels your touch in such a light, vulnerable way. Sometimes when she's playing a game, you'll approach her from behind and massage her scalp with your sweet touch. "Babe, you're distracting me!" She'll complain with a dramatic but playful groan, but her freckled face will melt like ice on a hot day from your touch.

✧.* Gamer Ellie isn't good at multi-tasking. She loves having you all up in her lap while her fingers are punching keys, but she always seems to lose when you're touching her, let alone near her. Why? Her thoughts are filled with the night before when the two of you were about to fall asleep, giggling in bed about some video on your phone, and specifically she's thinking about when you forgot all about sleep and had a late-night make-out session with some 90's movie tuned out on the television. It's so hard to remember to reload her virtual AR when all she's feeling is the way your warm fingers slid down her back and how your breathing turned into soft pants when she got all greedy and latched her filthy mouth onto your neck. Still, she'd never tell you to get off of her lap so she could focus. You were worth every aggravating respawn.

✧.* Gamer Ellie, in bed, isn't some huge dommy-mommy or whatever you're thinking. She's really touchy, sure. But she's honestly just your average lesbian who is absolutely obsessed with her girl, and she blanks at time. You'll be on top of her, and she's got this cave-woman aura going where she's just staring at your pretty face, focused on chasing your lips for a kiss. Her hands are awkwardly perched on her sides because she forgets how to even touch you: you're such a fucking goddess, and she's kind of a loser. You're a savior, though; guiding her hands to your waist with a sweet, patient smile. Ellie will get the cue and her fingers will spread across your waist to the top of your hips, and she remembers how desperate she is. (This one was inspired by me with my gf, you're so real gamer Ellie)

✧.* Gamer Ellie is also a switch! If you want her to be the top, she'll do it, but like I said she's going to be all cute and embarrassed about it. She'll be eating you out and her thoughts will be going at 100 miles per hour: "Am I doing this right?" "She's moaning Ellie, stop overthinking it." And sometimes the only thought she can really be having is "I love pussy." Cute. When she's bottom, which is most of the time, she isn't really all submissive and whiney but more like, defensively flustered like how she got with Dina when Dina threatened to bite her on the couch. Gay panic type of bottom. She does get pretty loud when you use a vibrator on her, though. That's a personal favorite in the bedroom.

✧.* Gamer Ellie did have a Fortnite phase. She hates talking about it but she spent like an ungodly amount on the stupidest skins. She used to make you watch her play at first, and then it was you having to create a whole Epic account so you could be her duo. Ellie's favorite season? Chapter two season seven. Why? Aliens. She got the battle pass and unlocked the alien skins, too. A little after she got super obsessed with it, like yelling at some 12 year old boy telling him his mother wishes she swallowed him, she moved on to a game that wasn't making her yell at at her screen. You were thankful.

✧.* Gamer Ellie is a huge night owl. While your sleep schedule is pretty average, she will blink and it'll be four in the morning. She'll groan and pop her back before stripping down to underwear and a t-shirt and then crash on your shared bed, making you stir from your rest. She sleepily curls her body into yours, peppering the warmest smooches wherever(probably with her eyes closed or half-way, at least) and muttering out apologies for waking you in the most ethereal voice known to woman-kind (it's raspy and the one she uses during sex when she's attempting to be a good top).

A/N: Thank you everyone for over 500 followers! I hope to post some longer fics this week or at least some more arcane fics. I promised some Jinx content, hopefully that'll be soon. Love you all.

[shitpostingkats]

An Asexual's love letter to Good Omens 2

There's an infamous quote by Neil Gaiman going around, regarding the general vibe of season 2, and many people (I believe humorously) yelling that it could not be further from the truth. Particularly in the last episode, where that happens.

I disagree.

The final episode of season 2 was deeply, deeply comforting to me. 

I am asexual. Have been my whole life. Even before I had the words to describe what that was, child-me had this feeling in their gut of being an outlier, that everyone was exaggerating, or in on some joke, that I wasn’t privy to. Because I was bombarded on all sides by shows and movies and books, telling the same story of love, again, and again, and AGAIN. It’s drilled into our brains with the same fervor as the days of the week, or the quadratic formula. Meet-cute -> misunderstanding ->declaration of feelings ->kiss. More or less steps can be added to account for runtime or complexity of narrative, but that’s the basic structure that a relationship follows. It MUST be, because that’s the formula every character who's ever been in a story goes through, often times when it even feels like an add-on, like it’s only there because this is a story, there HAS to be a romance. And it has to follow the steps.

For a long time, I felt love wasn’t for me, because if there’s only one way to be in love, I sure as hell wasn’t feeling it. 

Instead, the relationship I ended up in looked a lot like what Beezlebub and Gabriel go through. Meeting someone routinely until it starts to feel comfortable. Getting to know them and slowly growing more attached. Eating chips and listening to music.

We like to joke whenever someone asks us how long we’ve been together, because the answer is we just sort of slowly fell into it, and we honestly don’t know when the line got blurred between ‘friends’ and ‘partners’. And, at least for me, a good deal of that confusion, that hesitancy to label, came from the fact that what I was feeling, what we were, couldn’t be love. It couldn’t be romantic. 

We were just quiet and gentle.

And that wasn’t love.

Because it was slow, because it wasn’t physical, because there was no structure aside from consistency and companionship. Because it didn’t follow the Rules.

Then I found myself in stories, and it felt like a revelation.

Beelzebub and Gabriel aren’t the first time I’ve seen a love like I feel represented in a narrative, but it never stops feeling special. And I don’t know if I’ll ever stop celebrating it.

Throughout the sequence in the pub, I kept expecting them to “confirm” Gabriel and Beelzebub. A dramatic line, a kiss, a whatever. That’s what I’ve been taught to expect, after all, that’s the only way a relationship is “real”. Of course, this doesn't mean Crowley and Aziraphale sharing a dramatic kiss is wrong, or that I can’t see why it resonated with so many people, but for me. Those moments in the pub are worth so much more.The last scene might have been literally showstopping, but those handful of moments between the duke of hell and an archangel were the beating heart of the season for me. A simple love story in four scenes. No kisses. No ‘I love you’s. Not even any definition of what. The love Gabriel and Beelzebub have is strong enough for them to both want to shatter their worlds and flee their lives and it's just. 

It's just that. 

Two people in a pub, playing the other's favorite song, giving a little gift, buying a packet of crisps. 

That sequence means far more to me than any kiss ever could.

Love isn’t only real when it's hot and sudden and ephemeral, it can also be

Quiet.

And gentle.

And still romantic.

Still real.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Cheeky Interview || F1 driver!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: just Rafe being cheeky during the after race interview

Warnings: none

Word count: 926

A/n: no f1 for awhile :(

MASTERLIST (F1 driver!rafe x reader au masterlist)

The press room buzzed with energy as Rafe Cameron leaned back in his chair, the epitome of relaxed confidence. His racing suit was tied around his waist, revealing the snug black undershirt clinging to his toned frame. The cameras loved him; his cheeky grin and smouldering blue eyes ensured that.

“Rafe, fantastic result today,” a journalist began, her pen poised. “P2, and some excellent overtakes out there. How are you feeling?” Rafe flashed a grin, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Yeah, it was a good day. The car felt great—big shoutout to the team for that. But, uh…” He paused, the corner of his mouth quirking up mischievously.

“I think I’ve got someone else to thank for the extra motivation today.” The room perked up, sensing something juicy. His PR manager, Mia, sitting in the corner, visibly tensed. “And who would that be?” another journalist pressed, leaning forward eagerly. Rafe shrugged casually, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his intentions.

“My girlfriend,” he said, his voice laced with affection. “She’s here this weekend, which doesn’t happen often. When I saw her waving at me on the way to the grid? Yeah, I couldn’t let her down.” The reporters chuckled, a few murmuring “aww.” Rafe was in his element now.

“She’s been in the paddock all day,” Rafe continued, leaning into the mic. “I swear, the cameras are more focused on her than the cars. Can’t blame them, though. She looked unreal. Honestly, it’s unfair—I’m out here sweating in a fireproof suit, and she’s just strolling around making me look bad.”

More laughter rippled through the room, but Mia coughed, a clear signal. Rafe ignored it entirely. So, are we saying Y/n is your secret to success?” one reporter teased. “Secret?” Rafe scoffed. “Mate, there’s no secret about it. She’s my lucky charm. I told her if she keeps showing up, I might just win the championship.”

“She was in the paddock before the race, looking way too good. I was about to ditch the car and take her out for lunch instead.” The room erupted in laughter, but Mia was already shifting in her seat, a warning look sent his way. “Rafe,” she interjected, her tone polite but firm. “Let’s keep it focused on the race, yeah?”

Rafe barely blinked. “I am talking about the race. I mean, if she wasn’t here, I’d probably be in the gravel by lap two.” He winked at the room, fully aware of the chaos he was causing. Mia pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something under her breath as the journalists continued to eat up Rafe’s every word.

“One last thing,” a bold reporter called out. “Any chance Y/n will be joining you on the podium next time?” Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “If it were up to me, she’d already have her own spot. Honestly, I’d probably just step aside and let her take my trophy. She deserves one just for putting up with me.”

Mia cut in again, this time more forcefully. “Thank you, everyone. That’s all for now!” As the reporters reluctantly began to pack up, she shot Rafe a look that clearly showed she was annoyed. Rafe only shrugged, his grin never faltering. “What? They asked. I answered.”

“Next time,” she hissed under her breath as they walked out of the room, “stick to the car and the team. You’re impossible, Cameron.” “Impossible or irresistible?” he quipped, glancing back at her. But his smirk softened as he spotted you waiting at the end of the hall, your smile brightening the moment you saw him.

“See?” Rafe said, nodding toward you as he strode up, his confident smirk softening the moment his eyes met yours. “Totally worth it.” You couldn’t help but grin, stepping closer. Rising onto your tiptoes, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, holding you close as he smiled against your lips, his warmth seeping into you.

“How was it?” you asked softly, glancing over his shoulder just in time to catch his Mia pinching the bridge of her nose. “Typical Rafe,” she muttered under her breath before walking off, clearly exasperated. Rafe chuckled, the sound deep and full of mischief, as his hands slid to rest on your hips.

His blue eyes sparkled with playful defiance as you raised an eyebrow at him. “What did you do this time?” you asked, laughter bubbling in your voice. Rafe held his hands up in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Why do you assume it was me?” he said, feigning innocence with an exaggerated gasp.

“Because,” you replied, crossing your arms as you tried—and failed—to look stern, “most of the time, it is you.” He leaned closer, his smirk downright wicked now. “Fair point,” he admitted, dropping his voice just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “But come on, you know you love it.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop your own smile from breaking through. “One of these days, you’re going to get yourself in real trouble.” He shrugged, pulling you back into his chest. “Probably. But as long as you’re there to bail me out, I’ll survive.”

[slutforfinnickodair]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩 (𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝟐𝟎/ 𝐡𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭) 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫!𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐅!𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞! 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 {𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐯𝐯𝐫𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐳} 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲😭

You had decided to wear a button up and skirt to class today. The upper buttons of your shirt were unbuttoned and showed a little bit of cleavage. The skirt was kinda short and your ass looked perfect in it. Honestly, you looked hot, but you were running too late to see yourself in the mirror.

It was History and Hayden Mr. Christensen taught that subject. No girl in your university ever missed his lectures, hoping for him to at least smile at them, no, at least notice them. Don't blame them, he was hot.

Little did the girls know that his heart and his dick, already belonged to a certain Y/N L/N.

Yeah. You were in a relationship with your History professor. For almost 6 months now.

It started out as longing stares at each other during classes with Hayden fantasizing about your lips around his cock and you being too busy to stare at his beautiful face, wanting nothing more than to kiss him and make him yours.

One day you accidentally left your textbook in his class, and you went to fetch it, not knowing only he was in the classroom. One thing led to another and thirty minutes later he was pounding himself into you as his gagged you with his fingers, shutting your moans up, his other hand pulling at your hair as he let out low grunts. And boy that was like the best sex you ever had in your life.

That day then led to other days and nights with you beneath Hayden, as he ruined you completely. He was a literal sex god, if you were to be honest. Nobody did it like him. He made sure that whenever he fucked you, his name would be the only thing on your tongue.

But there were times when he was gentle too. Those were the times when you could see his soft side. Not that he wasn't caring or gentle, but all that was thrown out of the window whenever you guys had sex.

Soon you guys started secretly dating, and the sex got even better, as Hayden knew that you were his to mark.

Your dates would often consist of you hanging out at his apartment, watching a movie, yet neither of you would actually watch it, being too busy making out with each other. You guys couldn't actually go out together without being spotted and getting in trouble, so you both would rather sit in his house and hang out. Or sometimes, he would help you study, and then reward you for being his good girl.

Sometimes, when he would be stressed from all the work, and papers to grade, you would just cuddle him as he would fall asleep with his face buried in your boobs, which would make you chuckle.

You loved Hayden, and so did he love you. There was risk in your relationship, but at the end of the day, it was all worth it.

And oh boy, you were lost in your thoughts. Again. You were going to be so late for your history lecture.

You ran down the hallways, pushing past against other students, making your way to Hayden Professor Christensen’s classroom. Thankfully, you weren't late, as students were still entering the classroom.

Your eyes met his as he stared at you with love and adoration. But seeing your outfit, his eyes went wide. He took a good look at your boobs and your legs, his mouth watering at the sight. You frowned, not realising why he was acting that way.

A typical frat boy took a seat beside as you, as Hayden Professor Christensen started his class. He tried so hard to concentrate on his teaching, but everytime he would look at your direction, the bulge in his pants would become harder. He was gonna fuck you after the class. He just had to go through this 2 hour lecture.

You met his eyes as he continued to speak about American History. You shifted in your seat and he could almost see your pink panties. He shut up himself before he moaned. Oh boy you were going to get it rough later.

As the lecture ended, students hurried out of the classroom and as always, you stayed behind. You noticed him acting wierd all the time, so you wanted to talk to him and help him about it. So you locked the door and made your way towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"Hayden, are you-" You were cut off by him attaching his lips to yours and as always you melted in his touch.

Without detaching his lips fron yours, he pushed you on the desk, so that now you were sitting on it. Lifting you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands roamed around your sides and your ass as he groped it and squeezed it. You moaned into the kiss, as he started kissing your neck hungrily. He even made sure to leave a few bite marks on it.

"Hay, wait-" "Shh, less talking more kissing princess," he said in a raspy tone, as he unbuttoned your shirt hastily helped you take off your skirt, leaving you almost bare in front of him. You then helped him take his shirt off as he played with the clip of your bra, unhooking it and throwing it away. He placed a hot and wet kiss on your breast as his hands slipped inside your panties. You let out a moan as he rubbed your clit into figure 8s.

His fingers worked their magic against your clit as you helped him unbuckle his pants and he pulled down his boxers. His long-hard member sprung free and he removed your panties with ease.

He took out a condom from his drawer and tore it open, as he rolled it onto his length. "You ready?" he asked as you have him a nod. He slid into you easily as you were already wet from all the rubbing he did on your clit. You let out a pornographic moan as he buried himself into your g-spot. You clenched around him as he hissed. He started out in a steady pace, and you couldn't keep in your moans as his one hand made its way on your clit and his mouth attached yo your nipple. He nibbed on it as he rubbed vigorously on your clit.

"H- Hayden, I- oh my god, it feels so good," you moaned gripping his back for support. His pace got even faster and the sound of your skin slapping against him was echoed across the room. "Yes- oh my god!" you screamed as he hit your g-spot repeatedly.

"Shh, you don't want anyone to hear you, do you?" He mocked you as he almost pulled out you, only to slam back with a force. You screamed as white spots covered your vision. He thrusted in and out of you and you felt close. "Hay, I..uh..so close," you moaned as you clenched around him again.

He moaned at the sensation, as he placed a wet and sloppy kiss on your lips. "Fuck- I'm gonna cum," he grunted as his thrusts grew sloppy. He hit your g-spot again, and without warning, your orgasm slammed into you. You moaned as you rode out your high. A few more thrusts and he came into the condom, as he moaned into your ear.

He kept himself buried inside you for a few more moments, as you guus were still coming down from your last orgasm. Soon he slid out of you and rolled off the condom and threw it in the dustbin. He kissed you deeply, as you smiled into the kiss.

"You did good today angel,"

"Well maybe, I should wear skirts more often,"

[atlasofthestaars]

heart to heart

summary: 

“The touching of foreheads—this is an ancient greeting. that honors the heart and soul of another human.” 

you and your lover have a tender moment.

includes: Liu Kang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Reptile, Scorpion (Kuai Liang), Sub Zero (Bi-Han), Smoke, Shang Tsung, Mileena, Kitana, Ashrah, Havik, and Cassie Cage

note: something different ig?? just wanted to do something indulgent and wanted to dabble in drabbles. (these ended up being longer bc. pressure.) I also wanted to take this time to practice writing some sweeter stuff for the love interests of New Era + Cassie bc my friend likes her. idk if people want more I can probs do other charas too.

LIU KANG

A content sigh left your lips as you pressed your forehead forward to meet Liu Kang’s. Your eyes fluttered closed. His hands, which now no longer had their wraps, gently cupped your cheeks. His hands were always warm, and they helped keep away the chill of the night. A thumb gently rubbed small circles, a habit of his that you always found oh so endearing. You couldn’t help but to melt into his hands.

This was perfect. There was nothing more you could long for in this world. Though, you knew if you wanted anything Liu Kang would be there to fulfill your wishes. Anything was worth the smile on your face.

In the day, Liu Kang was often busy with his duties. Being the protector of Earthrealm came with many responsibilities, and the both of you knew that. Oftentimes, you would go long stretches within the day without seeing a hint of your lover. It was simply something you had to accept being Liu Kang’s lover. However, that did not mean he neglected you. Not at all.

At the end of the day, when the sun gave way to the moon and let it shine upon the world, Liu Kang returned. Night time was always the time he set aside for just the both of you. It soon became your favorite time of day just because it meant he would be there, right at your side.

“You look so perfect.” Liu Kang whispered. His voice carried reverence within it, as if you were the god who had crafted the universe with utmost care and love. You opened your eyes, and for a moment, you were left breathless. No matter how much time passed, he always looked at you as if you were the pinnacle of perfection.

Any sort of response you had was stuck in your throat. You could never tire of staring into Liu Kang’s eyes. You often asked if he had given himself the ability to hypnotize others with his gaze. He told you every time that no, he did not. But if he didn’t, why were you so entranced by them every single time you dared to look at them?

You wished you could put into words how much you loved this man. From the way he looked with his silky long hair that you loved to play and run your hands through, to the way he was so kind and loving. You often wondered and asked how you were lucky to be the partner of such a god, to which he always told you that he was the lucky one.

“I am thankful you wait for me every night.” The god murmured, his voice so full of love and genuine thankfulness. He removed his forehead, and you mourned the loss of contact before he pressed a featherlight kiss to yours. Then, he returned his forehead back to yours, and everything was as it should be. “I wish I could spend every minute by your side, my love.” 

You wished so too, but every night was just enough for you.

KUNG LAO

Your forehead bumped into Kung Lao’s a bit clumsily. There was far too much energy and excitement buzzing in both of your veins to prevent that little stumble. It didn’t matter either way to you, you were just happy to be in his arms. He was equally happy to hold you, and you could tell by the way his arms squeezed around you. 

You always felt happiest in his arms, honestly. There was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be than right here.

“Did you see that!?” Kung Lao asked, his eyes wide as they searched your face. While Kung Lao always sought out approval and compliments, there was nothing better than the ones he received from you. It just made him feel like he was on top of the world. To his delight, he saw the way you nodded accompanied with a wide happy grin on your face. The grins he got from you were perhaps the best type of approval he could ever get from you.

A laugh left your lips as he squeezed his arms tighter around you in delight. Every embrace from him felt like it was full of the love he felt for you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. His nose nuzzled against yours, and more laughter spilt from your lips. You couldn’t help it, he knew just how to make you happy. Your face heat up from how nearly overwhelmed you were from his affection, the love nearly overflowing from your heart.

“You’re always so cute when you blush.” Kung Lao teased, a hand rising up to pinch at your cheek affectionately. His eyes glinted with mischief and glee, but most of all, love. He adored the way he could make you blush and how your heart would race. It meant that you felt exactly the same way whenever he would just look at you sometimes.

You leaned back, a wide grin on your face as you swatted away his hand in a playful manner. Rolling his eyes, he instead cupped your cheek. Before you could protest in any sort of way about his earlier comment, you were attacked with a flurry of kisses all over your face. 

“Sorry, you’re too adorable. I couldn’t resist.” Kung Lao apologized, but you both knew he would pepper your face with his kisses again and again the next chance he got. His grin was the perfect mixture of smug and gleeful. And his dimples were the perfect icing on the cake. You raised a hand up to cup his cheek and traced his dimples with his thumb.

“A fan?” Kung Lao inquired, eyebrows raising up in a teasing manner. His ego seemed to only get bigger and bigger with every adoring look you gave him, but you didn’t care. A laugh left his lips again as he pressed his forehead back to yours. It was a little too much force again, but the both of you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were together and basking in each other’s mutual affection.

You wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in the world.

RAIDEN

Your forehead pressed against Raiden’s gently as the two of you lay underneath a sea of stars. You two had decided to stargaze since it was such a pretty sight outside. The sky was clear and the moon was full, and yet there was nothing you wanted to look more at than the man beside you. How could you not?

Your eyes searched your lover’s face, admiring how the moonlight fell just perfectly on his face. How could a man look so amazing as the one in front of you? Perhaps you’d have to thank Liu Kang sometime for blessing you with the image of perfection. While being so in awe of the champion’s beauty, you nearly missed the comment he made.

“You look amazing.” He spoke, his voice filled with so much affection for you. He always wore his heart on his sleeve. It was a trait you adored so much, even if was sometimes a flaw of his. A soft smile appeared on his face, the very same one that made you fall a bit more in love with him every single time. You couldn’t help but grin just a bit wider at the sight. 

You should be the one telling him that, in all honesty. The proper words to express your love for him were lost though. How could someone express such adoration and love? You thought there weren’t nearly enough words in all of the realms to tell him how much you truly admired him. 

His hand moved carefully towards your face, as if moving too fast would break the peaceful atmosphere. He was always so thoughtful about such things, especially so when it had to do with you. Then finally, after far too long, it settled on your cheek where it should be.

His thumb moved slowly across your face before it landed on your lips. It rubbed across your bottom lip leisurely. His gaze drifted away from your lips as he returned his thumb to rest on your cheek once more. Now they settled on looking into yours, and you wondered to yourself just how lucky you were to have such a man by your side.

“You are more lovely of a sight than all of the stars combined.” Raiden said, his voice filled with such sincerity it made your heart skip a beat. Then again, he was sincere in all things he said. It didn’t make you swoon over him any less. “I’m so lucky.” He confessed, humble as ever. You sighed at his little comment, withdrawing from his forehead to press a soft kiss on the tip of his nose for a moment.

You watched with silent admiration as color rose to his cheeks, blossoming in a soft reddish pink. Then, it spread across his face like a watercolor painting. If only you could save this view forever. You grinned at the sight, your heart swelling with joy. You couldn’t help but kiss him again, overwhelmed by the love you felt for the man in front of you.

What a sight.

JOHNNY CAGE

Your forehead pressed against Johnny Cage’s, and it felt like you were in a movie. Maybe you’ve been watching too many of his movies lately, but you couldn’t help it. You loved supporting him and his passions. The pride he had on being on screen was nearly palpable every time you watched one of his films. 

The feeling of being in a movie wasn’t helped with the way your lover was acting.

I mean…the way he was looking at you was pretty much the perfect shot for a movie. Your cheeks warmed up, and you were certain Johnny was bound to notice. Even if he wasn’t looking at your cheeks, his hands were sure to feel how the skin beneath them heated up. Your eyebrows rose up, looking at him a bit confused.

“What? Can’t I look at you?” Johnny inquired, sending you a smile. It wasn’t quite the practiced, perfect smile he sent his fans. No, it was the smile he always sent you. It was a little less perfect, but it was a little more real…a bit more genuine. Best of all, it was just for you. Your heart couldn’t help but flutter a little at the sight. 

By the gods your lover was so pretty. And he sure knew it, but how could you blame him? Looks like that were meant to be shown off. Even still, you were thankful for the small private moments like these were you were allowed to see the parts of him no one else could. It just reminded you of how fortunate you were to be with this man.

Little did you know how much he adored you right back.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, but in a light, playful manner. No, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t look at you. It just…mystified you why he looked at you like that. Like you were the most valuable thing he had. It felt almost impossible, after he once owned Sento, which he always went on and on about how he spent three million dollars on that. And that wasn’t counting the other countless possessions he had when he was at the peak of his richness.

And yet, despite your reservations on how much you deserved to be looked at like that, the admiration in his eyes made you reconsider. Johnny was always good at convincing you, he just had a way with words. Or sometimes his charisma was enough, much like in this case. His thumb brushed your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat. 

“Thanks for being my number one fan.” He murmured, pulling back to press a soft kiss onto your forehead. He let out a small laugh, the one that made you feel like you were on top of the world. “I hope you know I’m also your number one fan too.” The actor reminded you, his eyebrows raising to punctuate his point.

You knew that you both were each other’s biggest supporters, and that type of loyalty was priceless.

KENSHI TAKAHASHI

You made sure to place your forehead against Kenshi’s softly, trying to be gentle. You smiled at him, even though he could not see it. This was one of the rare few times Kenshi did not have Sento around, letting himself be the most vulnerable. And those times were always with you. He trusted you with his life, so this step wasn’t too farfetched.

“I wish I could see you.” Kenshi murmured his voice mournful. His hands reached up to cup your face. He knew he could always see you with Sento. But he didn’t want that. He wanted to see you with his own eyes. The swordsman wanted to see you, and your radiant smile in full color. He was grateful for what he gained after his loss, but sometimes he longed for sight just for you.

He supposed he would have to make do with what he could do instead. 

Guiding his hands, you settled them on your face and closed your eyes. It was in these rare few moments that you two had a tradition. You were used to this and almost anticipated this every time he set Sento aside and sat down with you alone. His thumbs slowly rubbed your cheeks, as if marking out his starting place. Then, he finally began to move his hands. It was slow and deliberate, taking time to memorize every detail of your skin. Every winkle, bump, and mark, he wanted to remember it all. 

First his hands moved slightly up. His fingers traced the curves and lines of your ears, refreshing his memory of how they looked by touch alone. Then, it moved higher, noting your hairline with his thumbs. His fingers brushed across your forehead, his thumbs tracing around where your foreheads connected together.

As his fingers reached your closed eyes, they lingered there. No envy coursed through Kenshi’s veins. Instead, only gratefulness swelled throughout the swordsman. He was thankful that you did not also go through the pain of losing your eyes in such a painful way. Leaning forward, he kissed your eyelids with utmost care.

“I want to protect you.” Kenshi whispered, pulling back to reconnect your foreheads. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, knowing that he meant it from the bottom of his heart. His fingers continued to make their way down, tracing your nose before they stopped once again at your lips.

His fingers mapped out the curve of your lips, especially noting the way they curled up to form your fantastic smile. He took a deep breath in, admiring just how soft your lips were underneath his fingertips. By the gods, he could never get over how nice your lips feel. A smile appeared on his own lips as he felt your smile grow.

He always loved your smile. Whether it be seen through Sento or felt through his own hands it warmed his heart. He would do anything to keep it, and you, safe. 

And he knew, having you there in his hands as he pressed a gentle kiss to your smile, you would do the same for him.

SYZOTH

Sleepily, you pressed your forehead against Syzoth’s own forehead. Blearily, you opened your eyes to look at the man who slept beside you. He still looked half asleep as well. You looked him over, admiring the sight of the sleepy Zatteran. It was a sight that only you had the privilege to see. A smile appeared on your face as you raised a hand up to cup his cheek, your thumb rubbed circles to slowly coax him awake. 

Looking over the shoulder of your lover, you noted the sunlight streaming in from behind the parted curtains. It hit Syzoth just perfectly, making him look like he was glowing. For a moment, you wondered if your lover was an angel instead of a Zatteran. You certainly felt blessed enough to have him to believe it. Then, you heard the familiar reptilian grumbles emanate from his chest as his forehead rubbed gently against yours, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

Maybe he was both, you thought.

“Let’s just lie here for a bit more.” Syzoth mumbled, his voice laden with sleep. The arms around your waist were squeezing you tightly now, preventing any hope of climbing out of bed to start your day. It was as if you were a stuffed animal for him. You let out a small drowsy laugh, your fingers now pinching his cheek. As much as you adored sleepy mornings with your Zatteran lover, you knew that he had a very important job as the Empress’ emissary. Both of you had responsibilities to get to.

Syzoth simply huffed in response, not even responding with words to your attempt to wake him up. His hand reached up to grab yours. He pulled your hand off of his cheek and instead intertwined it with yours. The simple gesture made your heart melt. You could practically feel him basking in the warmth that you naturally radiated. You sighed as you opened your eyes a bit more, squeezing his hand in an attempt to pull him from dreamland.

“I promise I will get up soon.” Syzoth told you, his eyes now more open. It was almost as if he were awake the entire time, but he just was seeking an excuse to spend more time with you. Or maybe, that’s exactly what it was. You had a small idea of what the truth actually was.

You stared up into his stunning green eyes, the sight of them alone almost took your breath away. Combined with the gentle way he spoke, along with the way he looked at you, you easily believed him. Then again, you supposed you would believe anything he told you as long as he looked at you that way.

He could tell you that the sun was gone when it was high into the sky, or that the world was going to end within days and you’d believe him. How could you not when he looked at you that way? You sighed with fake reluctance as you relaxed in his embrace.

Okay, maybe you can sleep in a little longer.

KUAI LIANG

Your forehead settled against Kuai Liang and you enjoyed the warmth you felt from the contact. A smile rose to your lips. How lucky you were to be with a man who knew how to control fire. Equally warm hands reached up to cup your face in a gentle, affectionate way. A bit selfishly, you inched closer to him, seeking out his warmth. Your arms wrapped around him, trying your best to pull him as close as you could towards you. He seemed to notice, his hands pulling you just a tiny bit closer towards him as well.

Your heart fluttered at the gesture. Your lover always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even if you said nothing.

It was a cold, cold night. The chill of the night crept into your bones, and only the warmth of your lover seemed to abate it. You relaxed and closed your eyes, basking in the way he was naturally warm. It was always a comforting warmth, never the stifling kind that made you fidget. You always swore that you could fall asleep comfortably as long as Kuai Liang was there to warm you to lull you to bed. 

Sleeping was something the both of you should be doing, and yet you were instead. You were basking in the comfort of being in each other’s arms.

With the mastery of a man who has been training in discipline all of his life, he heated up his hands carefully. It was almost symbolic. The way he held you so carefully was almost like he was cradling a small flame. Kuai Liang made sure to make it hot enough that you would no longer feel the chill of the night air, but not hot enough to make you uncomfortable, not to even mention hurt you.

The last thing he would want to do is hurt you. You were his everything.

His eyes, those dark brown eyes you loved to look so deeply at, stared at your face. While he normally loved to watch you, after all you were his favorite thing to look at, he now watched you carefully to gauge your reaction. He sought out to see any signs of discomfort or pain. He had to make sure you were feeling as comfortable as possible. After all, you deserve nothing less than the best.

“Is this better, love?” Kuai Liang asked, his voice quiet amidst the silence. There were not many things the man craved. It was a thing he prided himself on, how he was considerably humble, but he couldn’t deny how he longed for your approval. Even in the small things. A breath of relief was released from his chest as he watched you slowly nod yes. “Good.”

It was only then that Kuai Liang allowed a rare smile to appear on his lips. Your eyes fluttered open, and you couldn’t help but to internally swoon over the sight. How could you not? It was so precious and rare. You stared at his smile, trying to sear the image into your mind permanently.

Maybe instead of using his powers he should have just smiled instead. It made you feel warm enough.

BI-HAN

You pressed your forehead against Bi-Han’s, his hands drawing you closer to him. It was quiet in his room, even the quiet breaths between you two seemed almost too loud for the peace. And yet you did not complain. How could you? You were having a private moment with the man everyone swore was made of ice. 

“Stay with me.” The man murmurs, his voice breaking the silence. You smiled at his demand, although it was more appropriate to call it a plea. You nodded, not wanting to break the moment of vulnerability you were bestowed. Your hands reached up to cup his face, matching the way he was holding you. He took a deep breath in, as if the next word was a heavy burden. “Please.”

His hands held you in such a specific way. It was careful and loving, but it was in such a way that felt like he was hiding you away from the world. It was not in the way that appeared that he was ashamed, not at all. If anything, Bi-Han was proud to be yours. No, the way he held you was so…private. 

It was as if he were shielding the two of you from nonexistent prying eyes. This was a moment to be shared between the two of you, not anyone else. Not even the world itself was allowed to intrude in such a special and sacred moment. Now that was the way Bi-Han held you.

He held you like a treasure he wanted to keep all to himself.

Gone from his face was the usual stern look he wore. Instead it was replaced with a slightly vulnerable softer look. His eyebrows were not furrowed, instead lifted slightly. His eyes felt warm and full of silent admiration for no one else but you. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt all too lucky to be blessed with such a sight.

His hands, which were normally frosted over, were merely cool to the touch. It wasn’t uncomfortable, instead the gentle touch with the coolness made your heart flutter. His thumbs traced patterns on your cheeks, as if creating his own little snowflakes on your skin. The normally cold grandmaster’s drop from the eyes he seemed to get lost in a little too often towards your soft and pretty lips.

With a sharp inhale, he lifted his forehead away from yours for a moment. Unable to resist, the cyromancer placed a gentle kiss against your lips. His breath when he pulled away was cool against your lips. 

In this moment of vulnerability, he allowed a small, rare smile to grace his lips.

You swallowed, your eyes zeroing right onto the smile. How rare it was, how precious. How could you not help but gawk and admire? Despite your lover being a man who wielded ice, you found yourself melting all too easily into his gentle touches.

“Thank you for being here.” He murmured again, allowing himself to bare yet another part of his soul to you. Your thumbs traced his cheekbones and he knew the motion was answer enough. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax into your touch.

This was truly a moment that only you two were allowed to witness.

TOMAS VRBADA

As your forehead connected with Tomas’, you heard a sigh of exhaustion leave his lips. His arms draped around you lazily, almost having not enough energy to keep them around you. You let his weight lean onto you, almost letting the man nearly collapse on top of you. Another sigh left his lips as your hands kept his face close. It was almost as if you were keeping him up with your hands alone, at this point.

His eyes were shut, and you could see the hints of exhaustion begin to peek through his perfect face. As much as you knew he loved his new duties for the clan, you also knew he was beginning to hit his limits. Your thumb ran carefully across his face, almost like a little massage. The smallest of smiles appeared on his face at the little gesture.

“Training initiates are hard.” Tomas mumbled, and your heart nearly broke at how utterly tired he sounded. Even despite his exhaustion, you could tell the passion he had for his responsibilities. Still, it worries you no less. You hummed, an acknowledgement of his tiredness. You felt him lean a little more into your touch, allowing himself to indulge within the small moment you were sharing with him.

His arms moved around you a little less languidly, as if he found a second wind within your presence. And it was true, just being around you was enough to give him the strength to do more than he thought he could. Oftentimes when he felt like collapsing he thought of you waiting for him, and it gave him just enough energy to make it back into your arms every single day. 

With another sigh he pulled you closer, a sense of greediness in his actions. You let him, indulging him. His smile grew a bit as he nuzzled your nose against yours slowly. A laugh left your lips at the action, and Toma’s heart couldn’t help but leap at the sound. Just your laugh was enough to re-energize him. Did you know how much you meant to him?

“Thank you for waiting for me.” Tomas said, his voice dripping with all the love he held for you. He knew that sometimes you would wait long stretches of time for him to return after every day ever since he was entrusted with more responsibilities. You never complained, never whined, you just welcomed him back every day with open arms. 

He could ask for nothing more.

With a little chuckle, he squeezed you tightly. It was as if he was trying to show you how much he adored you, just how grateful he was with one giant hug. For that, you rewarded him with a small kiss, featherlight, right above his left eyebrow on his scar. It was a gesture Tomas swooned over. Even if you could not remove the scar itself, you could at least imbue better memories associated with it.

Even if he was given the weight of the world to balance on his shoulders, he would not complain as long as he had you to return to every night.

SHANG TSUNG

Your forehead pressed against Shang Tsung’s and suddenly it felt like the world didn’t matter. Your eyes closed, a sign of trust that Shang Tsung truly didn’t deserve. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, allowing you to pull yourself close to the sorcerer. His arms, meanwhile, draped in a most elegant manner around you.

In these small moments where you closed your eyes, Shang Tsung truly let himself indulge in the beauty that was you. His eyes scanned your face, noting all the features that truly made you one of a kind. All the little things that you perceived as quirks and imperfections seemed only to create a masterpiece for him. For a man who has been condemned to a life of misery by the universe, he was fortunate that it was kind enough to let him meet you.

As your eyes fluttered open, the man had to reel himself back in. His gaze, though still soft, became just the tiniest bit more guarded. His smile which had been so genuine became just a little more precise and practiced. It wasn’t as if he didn’t show any love, far from it. But he had to remember that with the ambitions and plans he held, he had to just be a little more protective of himself. It’d be simply foolish to show just how much he adored you.

Everyday with you, however, the cracks were getting harder and harder to conceal. 

“You look simply amazing my dear.” Shang Tsung complimented, raising a careful hand to stroke your cheek. Despite his compliment, that was not how he felt. He felt more for you, and you had no idea. You were stunning, gorgeous, divine, so much more than just amazing. But even all the words he could think of to describe you was not sufficient enough. For now, just amazing would do.

Your smile, which you blessed him with, had his heart aflutter. Before meeting you, Shang Tsung had little reservations about using others for his own gain. Others were simply an end to a means for him. And yet, with you, the idea of lumping you with the others he was quite ready to dispose of made him feel uneasy.

You were much more than just another stepping stone. Oh, but if the world were to know about his weakness for you, the universe would cast their cruel eyes upon you next. Selfish as the sorcerer was in keeping the truth of how deep his feelings were for you, he also saw it as a blessing. As long as the universe did not scorn you the way it did him, it was enough for now.

Letting the mask facade of how he felt slip just a touch, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. With pride and satisfaction he felt your cheeks heat up just for him. Sometimes it comforted him to know that you felt perhaps a fraction of the love he truly held for you. 

Maybe one day, just maybe, he’d finally let you know just how much power you had over him and his heart.

MILEENA

Your forehead pressed against Mileena’s, and you wished it was enough to drive the whispers away. In the privacy of your shared chambers, it was quiet. It was a nice reprieve from the stress of the throne and the doubters of your lover that you so loathed. Your hands reached up to cup her pretty face that you adored, looking into her eyes.

A smile was on her face. It was a weary one. You knew while Mileena strove to be the best Empress she could be, and took great pride in it, she often was tired by the end of the day because of it. Even if it was not physically, the mental toll of being on top of such a throne was tough work. You did not envy the burden she shouldered, but there were times you wished you could share the burden of it just so she can rest a little bit better.

You knew you could not, so you did whatever else you could instead.

You moved your forehead away to press a few kisses to her forehead, wishing so desperately that it would abate the worries of doubt that were planted in her head. If not that, you hoped that your kisses at least passed along some of your own energy so she could power through. You wondered, for a moment, if it was possible to do that. Your thumbs traced her cheekbones, and you wondered silently to yourself how you were so lucky to become her lover. You nearly missed the adoring gleam in her eyes, and it was a look that made your breath catch.

“I’ll prove those doubters wrong, don’t worry.” Your empress promised, her voice fueled with the determination of a woman who has been scorned. You smiled, knowing she had been able to read you and your thoughts like a book. To be so in sync with your lover was a blessing you were ever thankful for. As an acknowledgement of her words, you gave her another kiss, this time pressing it upon the scar that went through her eyebrow.

You never doubted Mileena’s prowess. She had so much drive, how could you not? And yet, if you could, you would do anything to silence the doubters. How dare they question her rule, how could they not see  the wonderful woman who was born to rule? You often told yourself, to calm yourself down, that they were merely jealous of your lover. 

“There is nothing more I need than you to be by my side, dearest.” Mileena told you, her fingers tracing your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat, and you knew in that moment that if you could, you would stay by her side to always cheer her on. She didn’t even need to ask you.

You grabbed her hands, intertwining them with yours. You squeezed them tightly, trying to pour all the encouragement that you could not find enough words for in that one action. She returned the squeeze, a content sigh leaving her lips as her smile grew. 

Maybe you couldn’t help with every trouble she had, but you could at least make her smile…and maybe that was just enough.

KITANA

You pressed your forehead against Kitana’s brow, and finally you felt your worries dissipate. It was hard to be the lover of a Supreme Commander. Every day you feared for your lover’s life. It was not as if you doubted her prowess on the battlefield. It was far from that, you thought she was the best fit for Supreme Commander after all. Even if she was the best fit, you sometimes selfishly wished that someone else would take her place so she could stay safe.

You have never confessed this selfish little secret to her.

It was just that…war was cruel. You’ve heard and known the horrors of war and how death doesn’t discriminate. Sometimes accidents happen, or a death can come out of nowhere. You feared that one day it might take the best thing you have in your life. 

But now you didn’t need to worry, because now she was back and in your arms. You let out a sigh as you pressed your forehead a little more towards her. Meanwhile, your fingers traced the injuries she had suffered from the skirmishes she had gone through. You noted how the bandages from the medics were fresh. Your heart squeezed at the sight of them. If only civil war was not looming over Outworld, then she would not have to sacrifice herself out there on the battlefield. 

“It’s okay, I’m safe.” Kitana whispered, dragging you out of your worrying mind. Her fingers traced your cheek, and she looked at you with a gentle gaze. You marveled at her ability to whisk away your worries. Looking into her eyes alone calmed you down and made you feel like everything was alright. You wished you could do the same for her. Her other hand intertwined with yours, squeezing it gently. You noted how her hands were still remarkably soft for a woman who goes to war. A soft smile appeared on her face, and you could not help the way that your heart raced.

Words caught in your throat, and you found yourself unable to express the utter amount of love you felt for the princess. How could you express these overwhelming feelings that threatened to consume you? You figured it was impossible to ever express just how much she meant to you with words alone. Instead, you moved to press a few kisses on her injuries. If only you had the ability to heal her wounds just like that. Did she know you would do that for her? A light laugh left Kitana’s lips at your actions, and you swooned over the sound.

“I appreciate you.” She said, her voice light with the remnants of the laughter she had blessed upon you. Her hand squeezed yours again to punctuate her point. You smiled at her, wanting to ingrain the sight of her being happy and by your side forever into your mind. Your thumb rubbed small circles on her hand.

Maybe she had to go to war, it was a harsh reality you’ve accepted, but as long as she returned to be in your arms…that would be enough.

ASHRAH

Your forehead pressed against Ashrah’s, and the music in the background made the moment feel just perfect. A wide smile appeared on your face as you guided your lover through a slow dance. You watched with joy as your lover’s eyes were wide with admiration as you led her through the dance. You wondered for a moment if she knew how much you adored her in return. Surely she didn’t, how could she? The both of you swayed back and forth, enjoying the intimate moment.

“There was nothing like this back in the Netherrealm.” Ashrah marveled, a smile that made your heart melt on her lips. It was the very same smile she would give you every time you showed her the joys of Earthrealm. You could never tire of the sight, and you knew you’d do anything to see it over and over again.

That was exactly why you introduced her to the idea of slow dancing. You knew she would have probably never experienced anything like this. And you were right. You were honored to be her first ever dance partner. The twinkle in her eye showed that she was just as happy to have you guiding her through this dance.

Together with the memories you formed together, you knew she was creating more and more of a home within this realm. You hoped that you were included in her idea of home.

A laugh left your lips as you pulled her close, craving more contact. Despite her dexterity in combat, she was not used to dancing. Chuckles left the both of you as you stumbled a bit, tripping over each other’s feet. Luckily, she did not fall. Instead, you held her tightly. You gripped her hip tightly, making sure she was steady.

“Forgive me, I wasn’t expecting that.” Ashrah apologized after her laughter died down. You found you could only grin and shake your head at her apology. You two were out here to create memories and have fun, not to dance perfectly for anyone else. She could step on your toes every few seconds and you could care less. Her laughter alone made up for any mistakes she made. “Thank you for showing me these Earthrealm customs.”

Anytime, you thought. Honestly, you would do anything for her. It was hard to believe she was a demon with a heart as pure as her’s. You didn’t care though. Her past as a demon was often a source of confusion and concern for others, but never for you. All that mattered was who she was now, and she was simply fantastic.

“I think I quite like dancing.” Ashrah commented, pressing a light kiss upon your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at her with eyes full of adoration. How could you not swoon over her? You returned the favor, pressing a few light kisses all over her face. You couldn’t help it. Another melodic laugh left her lips.

Yeah, you think you like dancing too.

HAVIK

Your forehead bumped against Havik’s and you enjoyed the moment of serenity that was brought with it. You watched as your lover’s eyes closed, a rare moment in which he allowed himself to relax. You couldn’t help but to feel honored by the small gesture. He was always fighting, striving to fight for what his ideals were, but around you the man felt no need.

You eyed his scars, the ones he had gotten as a slave. Carefully, you reached out to brush your fingers against his scars. The care you put into the touch was not necessary, you knew Havik was strong and a simple brush against them would not break the man. Yet it felt it was necessary, These were reminders of his harsh past, a memory of why he was out there, fighting.

Honestly, all of him was a canvas. You knew very well that your lover was capable of healing his wounds ever since he met Quan Chi. Had he wanted, you knew he could repair the wounds he had gained through all of his life. But he didn’t. His body was his story. Every bump, bruise, cut that left a mark became like a stroke of paint. You couldn’t help but adore how he kept his imperfections. Not many would.

“Most don’t realize why I keep those around.” Havik grunted. There was a sense of frustration in his tone, no one else but you understood the vision he saw for the future, let alone understood the way he thought. You knew though. Even if he were to forget everything about you, he knew he would recognize your understanding from the reverence you carried when you traced the past injuries he wore like a badge. Only others who understood his ideals for the future would do the same.

You also knew that he thought it looked more fearsome. A burnt and scarred man was much more striking than a normal man. Your fingers trailed up his body, mapping out the locations of his injuries with your touch. Then, you let your fingers rest on his jawline right below where his flesh turned into exposed gums and teeth.

“You understand me.” Your lover said, his voice filled with the same amount of admiration for you as it did when he spoke of his vision for Seidou. You couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat as you realized that fact. You bumped your forehead gently against his again. Seeing as he had no lips to kiss, the two of you had settled on forehead bumping instead.

You felt Havik raise a hand, his touch gentle as it gripped your chin. He wasn’t known for gentle touches or gestures, but you were the exception. Softly, he bumped his forehead against yours again. Then, he rubbed it back and forth affectionately. You were, perhaps, the only person in the world he would allow himself to be this quaint with.

It was all for you, the one who he considered to be a true partner.

CASSIE CAGE

Your forehead settled against Cassie’s, and suddenly you were disinterested in the movie in the background. Instead, you were far too preoccupied with the sight of your lover and how radiant she looked with the colors of the television shining against her skin. How was it that every type of color seemed to compliment her perfectly?

“I thought we were supposed to be watching a movie.” Cassie teased, her eyebrows raising as she sent you a playful grin. She was a hypocrite though, as her attention was more on you rather than the movie she had picked out. Her arm was slung around your shoulders and you were cuddled close together on the couch.

Today was one of her rare days off. Ever since she got promoted, she’s been busier than ever. And yet, there were moments you two managed to find and relax together. Tonight was supposed to be movie night, you let her pick anything she wanted…as long as it wasn’t one of her dad’s films. She rolled her eyes at your little stipulation, but agreed. Your lover saw enough of her dad at work.

Even with your little agreement, you found yourself entranced with Cassie more. I mean, how could you not be? Her smile just seemed to be more eye-catching than anything Hollywood could produce. You were so entranced by her, in fact, that you didn’t notice the hand that snuck up to pinch your cheek. You jolted in surprise, letting out a small laugh.

“Thought I lost you there!” Your lover giggled, her hand now cupping your cheek instead. Her thumb gently rubbed over the part she had pinched, as if to soothe it. She let out a small sigh as she moved to nuzzle your cheek before giving it an affectionate smooch. “You know, Grandma Carlton has been dying to meet you.” She confessed, her voice going a touch sentimental.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt excitement course through your veins. Has Cassie been telling good things about you to her grandmother? Upon seeing your giddy expression, she squeezed your shoulder with the hand that laid upon it. 

“Hey, have I ever told you how much I adore you?” Cassie asked, and you felt like you were falling all over again. Cassie must have taken acting lessons at one point, because she knew exactly how to make you swoon as if she were the lead in a movie. Her eyes glimmered with affection as she pressed another kiss to your cheek. 

A laugh that revitalized your soul came from your lover as you returned the favor and gave her a soft kiss back. In the midst of her laughter, you vaguely heard her mention how you were both definitely missing out on the plot. You didn’t care though, you were too busy admiring the real beauty in front of you.

Who needed movies? All you needed was Cassie, and you had a feeling she didn’t mind missing out too just for you.

[bandgie]

what would stray kids' "we shouldn’t be doing this" sex situation be??

MDNI 18+ | step/incest themes (individual warnings), age gap, oral (f!), fem!reader, I prolly missed some tbh

chan! (tw: step)

something about him screams step-dad. you're not home too much cuz you're already older by the time your mom remarries, but whenever you do swing by, your step dad is more than eager to cook, to clean, to show that he's a good husband...for your mom ofc. but the air thickens and you both start growing more bold. you come more often, making sure to bend lower enough for chan to catch a sight of your panties. he never makes a move though, not until the inevitable divorce papers are served. then he's a little more receptive to your advances, but ofc, he has some morals left

"Wait! I know your mom and I are getting a divorce, but that doesn't mean-" Chan shuts up real quick at the feel of your hand lowering, cupping his bugle and kissing his neck. "Shh, weren't you trying so hard to be my daddy before? You can be that now."

minho! (tw: age gap)

dad's best friend. older, hotter, flirty. he honestly has little to no shame when it comes to teasing you. if anything, it's you telling him that you can't do this, that it's wrong, but gosh it just feels so good. your friends tell you about the sexual experience older men have and it only tempts you more to give into Minho's advances. the furthest you've gone is light touching, his gentle kisses to your bare shoulder when you get out of the pool. but honestly, he's just so charming, it's only a matter of time before you're under him

If you don't get his cock soon, you think you'll cum just from his fingers. Minho's got two digits fucking into you, his thumb swirling your clit while he lavishes your nipple with his tongue. You whine, throwing your head back and arching upwards. "Minho! Minho, my dad-" but a harsh bite on your swollen bud makes you yelp. Minho briefly picks up his head, "You're dad's downstairs. You should be quiet before he hears us."

changbin!

he's your ex. you come across him at one the parties your university throws and you swore to yourself that you'd never get involved with frat boys again, but he just looks so good. big arms crossing his chest, black jeans on his thick thighs (and thick cock) with a red solo cup in his hand. you keep reminding yourself that he's not worth it. it would be so stereotypical to hook up in a someone's house you don't know, but once he sees you it's pretty much settled.

"Come on, you know you miss it," his words are like butter, and truthfully you do miss it. You miss how his thick fingers wrapped around your neck, how his fat cock stretched your pussy. But still, you're prideful, "As if. I shouldn't even doing this shit with you." Rather than his little smirk disappearing, it widens. "Who are you tryna convince? Me or you?"

hyunjin!

you're his art teacher. he's super talented, super dedicated to his craft and you constantly praise him for it. as true as that is, you also love seeing his smile and dimples. you have yet to admit that you find your student attractive, but you can at least acknowledge that he makes your job a little bit better. it's when he comes in for your office hours that you finally have to come to terms with your true emotions. you think you can keep professional, but hyunjin's set on letting you know how he feels.

"Hyunjin...you know we can't," but your words fall on deaf ears. Hyunjin pushes a loose strand from your face, cupping your cheek in the process. "Why not? Is there something wrong with me?" He sounds so desperate, so sincere. You have to swallow your desires but you can't push his hand away. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong with you." He leans past you, brushing his plump lips over the shell of your ear. "Then let me touch you one time. Let me show you how much you mean to me just once."

han! (tw:incest)

icky brother for sure. older brother to be specific. you always thought it was normal for siblings to be as close as you are, to kiss when either of you are stressed, to go on outings that usually end in more kissing on the ride back home. but, of course, you realize that his affection is twisted, and you cut off contact with him and the rest of your family. even then...it's really hard to move on, especially when he shows up to your master's graduation.

"I said I never want to see you again." You try to sound strong, but your voice shakes. He's crying too, as if he isn't the reason you guys can't have a normal relationship. More tears fall, more apologies are spoken, but you can't say no when he begs for those little kisses that always make you guys feel better. You can't say no when you finally give your body to your brother like a good little sister.

felix!

brother's best-friends trope. you grew up besides him and you've always had a little thing for him, but he hardly noticed. you guys age, and you've totally given up on your little crush. but when felix is invited to an overnight cabin with your family, it's hard to ignore that reignited flame in your stomach. ignoring him is probably your best plan, but felix is just too friendly to really understand that you don't want to talk to him. you decide you should show him exactly why you should stay away

Felix's eyes are wide, filled with uncertainty, fear, but he can't help the excitement that bubbles in his stomach when you rip your shirt off. "I- I don't think this is a good idea! Your family's upstairs and your brother will kill me." You can practically see his heart jumping from his chest. To calm him, you crawl on the bed to where he is and place a gentle, but firm kiss to his lips. He whines, shaking as he cups your face in his small hands. "And if you don't fuck me," you pull away to look into his eyes. "I'll kill you."

seungmin!

he's your boss, and you're his secretary. since you're pretty much forced to be with him at all times, you know how he handles his anger when the company isn't doing as well as he wants. It usually involves drinking and working overtime, but this particular night has him restless. since your a great worker, you stay overtime with him, helping on what you can and making sure his coffee is always filled. but when the lack of sleep starts to get to his head, he starts acting a little...weird.

Mr. Kim hasn't dismissed you yet. If anything, he beckons you closer with a finger. You obey, following his every instruction until you're bent over his desk, skirt lifted up with your panties to the side as his warm tongue licks up your pussy. "The cameras," you moan out. "We'll get caught. Mr. Kim, you'll get fired." But he doesn't care. He's so stressed, too tired that he needs something to keep him awake. You can't help but feel pity, so you lay pliant on the desk while he laps your cunt.

jeongin!

he's an idol helping out the trainees. he's super professional, a great dancer, and an amazing teacher. really supportive and gives helpful feedback. it's super dumb, but totally expected for a trainee to fall for their instructor, or in this case, an idol. you know better of course, his image matters a lot. you don't want to risk anything for him. but it's hard to not feel anything when he stays extra hours with you to get a routine down. both of you are tired, both of you are exhausted. neither of you are thinking clearly when jeongin grabs your hips as a means to help your posture, but it leads to something totally different

The practice room is filled with wet slapping and messy kisses. Jeongin eyes are hooded, a darkness covering him as he looks down at you. Your breasts bounce at the force of his thrusts and you grab them for support. "Jeongin. Innie, the sun's gonna come up. Your leader-" But he covers your mouth with his large palm. He's chasing his high, coxing an intense orgasm that he can't bother to care about your worries. "Just shut up and let me finish."

my fav's seungmins tbh (and maybe hannie :p)

[pucksandpower]

Best Laid Plans

Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!Reader

Summary: you were just supposed to be a means to an end — a way for Carlos to get back at your father for dropping him — but the best laid plans often go awry and you quickly become so much more than that

Warnings: 18+ content and manipulation

Note: did I spend the whole day writing this to celebrate Carlos’ win? Maybe …

So much love to @struggling-with-drivers for always giving me the best ideas

The warm Portuguese sun beats down on Carlos as he strolls through the luxurious resort grounds, trying and failing to shake the anger simmering inside him.

How could Ferrari do this to him? After all he has given to the team over the past few seasons? To be so unceremoniously dumped for Lewis fucking Hamilton is a slap in the face he can barely comprehend.

He kicks at the pebbled path, hands jammed in his pockets, catching the eye of a young woman lounging by the pool up ahead. She gives him a warm smile that does strange things to his insides for a moment before he recognizes her — Y/N Vasseur.

The reality of who she is hits Carlos like a truck. The daughter of the team principal who betrayed him.

An idea begins to form in Carlos’ mind, a cruel little seed taking root. If Ferrari wants to play hardball, he can play harder. And what better way to get back at Fred than through his precious daughter?

Putting on his most charming grin, Carlos changes course to approach you. “Y/N, fancy running into you here,” he lies easily. “I didn’t realize you were vacationing at this resort too.”

You sit up, shielding your eyes against the sun’s glare. “Carlos! What a pleasant surprise.” Your smile is bright and genuine, setting off warning bells in the back of Carlos’ mind. He quickly silences them — this is just collateral damage.

“I was just getting ready for a dip. Care to join me?” You gesture towards the welcoming blue waters.

Carlos pretends to consider it for a moment. “You know what, I would love to.”

Stripping off his shirt, he can’t help but sneak glances at your swimsuit-clad figure as you slide into the pool, telling himself it’s just for show. You really are stunning though, he has to admit. This might not be so difficult after all.

“So what’s a beautiful young woman like yourself doing all alone at a place like this?” Carlos asks once he’s waded in beside you.

You let out a tinkling laugh, sweeping wet hair away from your face. “Taking a much needed break from real life, I suppose. My job can be … demanding at times.”

That piques Carlos’ interest — to be quite honest, he had just assumed you did nothing all day. “Oh? Do tell, I’m fascinated.”

With a bashful look, you launch into an explanation of your high-powered career that genuinely impresses Carlos despite himself. You’re whip-smart, articulate, and passionate about your work in a way he can relate to.

“Wow,” he finds himself saying once you’ve finished. “I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting that from you. Not that I’m judging a book by its cover or anything!” He adds quickly at your arched eyebrow.

You let out another of those bright laughs. “Don’t worry, I get that a lot. People see a privileged girl and make all sorts of assumptions.”

There’s a hint of bitterness underlying the lightness of your tone that Carlos picks up on all too well. He knows what it’s like to be looked down on and underestimated.

“For what it’s worth, I think what you do is really impressive,” he finds himself saying honestly. “And anyone who thinks less of you for it is a fool.”

The words seem to catch you off guard for a moment before your expression melts into a warm smile. “Why Carlos Sainz, I do believe you’re flirting with me.”

He grins back unrepentantly. “Is it working?”

You pretend to consider it for a moment before laughing again. “Maybe a little.”

The flirtatious back-and-forth continues as you both float lazily in the pool, Carlos quickly getting caught up in the effortless fun of it. You match him quip for quip, parry for parry, in a way he’s not used to from women. It’s exhilarating and unexpected.

In fact, he’s so caught up in your company that he nearly forgets his original intention entirely. Until a stray thought brings the memory crashing back down … you’re Fred Vasseur’s daughter.

The realization is like a bucket of cold water being upended over Carlos’ head. What is he doing? This woman hasn’t done anything to wrong him. Going after you just to get petty revenge on your father is ugly and uncalled for. He should just be the bigger man, swallow the insult Ferrari dealt him, and move on.

But then he thinks about the disrespect, the callousness of dumping him like dead weight after all he bled for the team. Perhaps a little payback is in order after all.

With a wicked grin, Carlos begins swimming slowly towards you, an unmistakable glint in his eye. You seem to pick up on it, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “What’s that look for?”

“Just thinking,” he murmurs once he’s close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath. “About how I could make this vacation even more … memorable.”

His heavy-lidded gaze drops to your lips for just a moment, but you catch it. You bite your lower lip unconsciously as heat blazes between you. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” Carlos all but purrs, reaching out to gently cup your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You shiver despite the warmth of the day, eyelids fluttering. “If you’ll allow me?”

For a long stretch, you seem to be rendered speechless, pupils blown wide as you study his face intently. Then, so softly, “Yes.”

That’s all the permission Carlos needs before he’s crashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

The moment your lips meet his, it’s like a jolt of electricity courses through Carlos. He kisses you deeply, urgently, all thoughts of revenge or ill-intent evaporating from his mind. This is pure want, unbridled desire singing through his veins.

You return the kiss with equal fervor, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. Your mouth is warm, soft, pillowy — everything Carlos didn’t know he was craving until this very moment. He skims his hands over the slick curves of your body beneath the pool’s surface, marveling at the gasps and sighs he pulls from you with each exploratory touch.

When you finally break apart, you’re both panting heavily, faces flushed. Carlos drinks in the sight of you — hair tousled, lips swollen, and eyes dark with wanting. He’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“Carlos ...” You breathe his name like a prayer and something primal uncurls in his lower belly.

Instead of responding, he simply crushes his mouth to yours once more, walking you backward until your back gently hits the pool’s tiled edge. You let out a muffled moan as he settles between your parted thighs, the heated line of his body flush against yours.

One of his hands slides up over the soft skin of your ribs to cup your breast as you arch shamelessly into his touch. He drags his lips in hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your jaw and down the graceful column of your neck, relishing the way you keen beneath his attention.

“You feel so good, cariño,” he rumbles against the feverish skin just below your ear, punctuating the words with a deliberately slow roll of his hips that has you releasing a broken whimper. “So fucking perfect ...”

In this moment, with you writhing and mewling in his arms, Carlos has never been more grateful for his commitment to physical fitness. He knows he can keep this up all day if need be, ravishing you over and over until you’re a limp, sated puddle.

He runs his tongue in a scorching path up the side of your neck before returning to that sinful mouth, swallowing your desperate little moans hungrily. You cling to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you tethered, nails raking deliciously over his back and shoulders in a way that will surely leave marks. Carlos loves it, loves the proof of your passion painted on his skin in thin red lines.

Trailing his lips across the hinge of your jaw, he murmurs “Should we take this somewhere more private, princesa?”

You let out a shuddering breath, hips canting up instinctively to meet each roll of his. “God, yes ... please ...”

The sound of your needy whine sends a molten thrill straight to Carlos’ cock. He’s fully hard and aching for you, straining against his swim trunks with every second that passes. If possible, he wants you even more.

With a grunt of effort, he hooks his hands beneath your thighs and hikes your legs up around his waist in one swift motion. You let out a startled squeak that quickly dissolves into a moan as he shifts against you just right, creating delicious friction. Your arms wind around his neck as you bury your face in the curve where his neck meets his shoulder.

“You feel that, cariño?” Carlos rumbles darkly. “I can’t wait to be inside you. Stretching you so perfectly full of me. Will you be a good girl and take it? Every. Last. Inch?”

He emphasizes each of the final three words with a firm grind of his hips, rutting his rigid length against your clothed heat. Your back bows in response, mouth dropping open on a silent wail of pleasure. Carlos can feel your sticky wetness soaking through the thin material of your swimsuit bottoms and groans harshly.

“P-please ...” You keen, worrying his earlobe between your teeth. “I need you, Carlos. I need it so bad ...”

And just like that, the trance is broken. Carlos blinks, suddenly acutely aware that you’re grinding shamelessly against each other in the very public pool area of this high-end resort. A few pointed looks from other guests are enough to have a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.

Clearing his throat, he reluctantly pulls himself back and sets you on your feet. You let out a disappointed whimper that goes straight to his groin.

“P-perhaps we got a bit carried away, princesa,” Carlos huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his damp curls. “Why don’t we go somewhere a bit more … private to continue this?”

You bite your plump lower lip and Carlos has to resist the urge to lean forward and free it with his teeth. Nodding eagerly, you cast a look around before tugging his hand and heading for the exit, leaving a trail of water droplets in your wake.

Carlos follows eagerly, openly ogling the way your soaked swimsuit hugs every tantalizing curve. He’s never been so grateful for his decision to book one of the private beachfront villas at this resort — just a stone’s throw from where you’re leading him, he’ll finally be able to have you all to himself.

The thought has him semi-frantically fumbling for the keycard as you press urgent, open-mouthed kisses to any patch of bare skin you can find — his shoulder, his neck, the line of his jaw. By the time he gets the door open you’re both panting like you’ve run a marathon, desire thrumming white-hot through your veins.

The second you’re inside, Carlos has you pressed back against the door, forearms braced on either side of your head as he towers over you. For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crosses your features and he’s abruptly reminded of who you are.

“Are you sure about this?” He murmurs lowly, searching your eyes. “Because if we do this, I can promise you there’s no going back for me, cariño.”

You visibly swallow hard but then give a small, determined nod. “I want this, Carlos. I want you.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s capturing your lips in another searing, desperate kiss that has you melting against him. He walks you backward, never breaking contact until the backs of your legs hit the edge of the plush bed. With a growl, he hooks his hands beneath your thighs and hitches your legs around his hips once more.

You let out a breathless giggle as he tumbles you both down onto the soft cotton sheets, immediately rolling until he’s blanketed by the gorgeous expanse of your body. God, you’re even more stunning like this — hair fanned out in a tousled riot, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, eyes glazed with naked wanting.

Carlos takes a moment just to appreciate the view, raking his eyes over every inch he can see. A tremor goes through you beneath his weighty gaze and he smirks, leaning down to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of your slender throat.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, princesa,” he rumbles against your overheated skin. “How many times I’ve thought about having you just like this, spread out beneath me and begging for it ...”

The truth is, he hasn’t thought about it at all until this very day. But something about the way your breath hitches and your hips cant up instinctively at his words makes Carlos want to keep going.

“I’ve watched you, you know,” he lies smoothly, relishing the full-body shiver that wracks your frame. He nips along the graceful line of your collarbone and you whine softly in the back of your throat. “Couldn’t tear my eyes away whenever you were around. Imagining what delicious little sounds you might make with my cock buried inside you ...”

You moan then, loud and unabashed as you tug needily at his hair to bring his mouth back up to yours. Carlos chuckles darkly into the kiss, reveling in how utterly desperate he’s managed to make you for him so quickly.

“Is this what you want, princesa? You want me to fuck you?” He keeps his tone a low, filthy rasp against the plush of your lips. “Hard and deep and ruthless until you can’t remember anything but my name on your tongue?”

“Yes!” The word rushes out in an urgent whine and Carlos lets out a feral growl, slamming his hips firmly against yours in one rough grind that has your mouth dropping open on a broken cry of ecstasy.

Moving with purposeful efficiency, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms and tugs them down over the swell of your hips and off completely. He shoves his own trunks down just far enough to free his throbbing length, giving it a few firm strokes to spread the pearling bead of precome over the swollen head.

With a low, heated look, Carlos hitches your legs over his shoulders and lines the blunt head of his cock up with your entrance. Just from this angle, he can see how slick and swollen you already are for him, glistening with arousal.

“Last chance, cariño,” he rumbles, rubbing himself in one deliciously torturous swipe through your folds and back again. You moan loudly, back bowing off the bed. “After this, I won’t be able to stop until you’re utterly ruined for anyone else’s touch ...”

The sound you make is practically inhuman, hand shooting out to grasp at his hip almost painfully hard. “Carlos … Carlos, please!”

Never one to deny such a desperate plea, Carlos braces one hand beside your head and slowly, inexorably begins to sink into your welcoming heat.

The tight, slick heat of your core enveloping Carlos inch by agonizing inch is utterly sublime. He has to grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut to keep from embarrassing himself right then and there. You’re impossibly tight, so perfectly molded to his shape — he’s never felt anything quite like it.

Beneath him, you keen softly as he stretches and fills you in one steady glide. Your fingernails bite crescent moons into the firm planes of his back as if you’ll fall apart if not anchored to him. Carlos rumbles his approval low in his chest at the sweet sting.

Once he’s fully sheathed, hips flush with yours, he pauses to simply bask in the feeling for a long moment. You feel so indescribably good wrapped around his throbbing length — hot and snug and fluttering subtly like your body can’t decide whether to grip him tighter or ease his way.

“Fuck, cariño ...” The words tear from Carlos’ throat in a ragged groan. “You feel incredible. So perfect for me.”

You whimper wordlessly in response, flexing and releasing your inner muscles in a way that has him seeing stars behind his eyelids. He captures your mouth in a filthy, demanding kiss to swallow your desperate little noises. It’s all he can do not to start pounding away with reckless abandon.

Pulling back slowly until just the thick head of his cock remains inside your clutching heat, Carlos locks eyes with you. Your pupils are blown wide, lips parted enticingly with each panting breath, the picture of wanton desire. He’s never seen anything so erotic in his life.

You must read the promise in his expression because suddenly you’re nodding frantically and chasing his retreating hips with a needy whine.

“Please, Carlos!” You keen desperately, nails scoring lines of fiery pleasure-pain down the rigid plane of his back. “I need it, I need you to-”

He doesn’t let you finish, snapping his hips forward in one hard thrust that buries him to the hilt. The broken cry that tears from your perfect lips goes straight to his dick.

Carlos repeats the harsh, punishing rhythm over and over, relishing the snug drag of your velvet walls against his aching cock. He soon has you a mewling, mindless mess beneath him, whining his name like a holy mantra with each powerful stroke.

“That’s it, princesa,” he rasps against the flushed curve of your neck, lips brushing saltily over your overheated skin. “Take it all for me. Every. Last. Fucking. Inch.”

As punctuation, he slams home with a sharp roll of his hips that has you keening shrilly and throwing your head back. You clutch at him desperately, meeting each heavy thrust in perfect counterpoint as he picks up the pace. The air is thick with the obscene sounds of skin sliding relentlessly together and your punched-out whimpers and moans.

Carlos has never felt so deliriously consumed by physicality before. It’s like his whole world has narrowed down to this moment, this connection of your joined bodies moving as one. He wants to burn the memory of how you feel, how you sound, how you taste, into his mind forever.

“Look at me,” he growls against the sweat-slick curve of your jaw when your eyes start to drift shut in ecstasy. “I wanna see those pretty eyes when you fall apart on my cock, princesa.”

You force your lids open with obvious effort, irises wild and hazy with lust. Carlos feels a molten surge of possessive desire lash through his veins at the sight. He slams into you with renewed fervor, savoring the high, desperate whine it punches from your parted lips.

“That’s it, cariño ... fuck, you’re exquisite like this.” His praise comes out in a ruined rasp but it seems to spur you on. Your nails dig bruising furrows into his lower back as you meet him thrust for bruising thrust.

Carlos can feel the telltale tightening and fluttering in your inner walls that signals your impending release like a vise grip around his cock. He wants nothing more than for you to shatter apart on his length. Slipping one hand between your sweat-slicked bodies, he finds the swollen bundle of nerves and rolls it firmly between calloused fingertips.

You release a strangled scream, back bowing off the mattress as white-hot pleasure spikes through you. “Carlos! Oh my god, Carlos, I’m … I can’t ...”

“Come for me, princesa,” Carlos encourages hoarsely against the side of your neck. He continues to work you over with nimble fingers in time with the punishing snap of his hips. “Let me feel you come apart all over my cock. Fucking soak it ...”

The guttural river of carnal filth coming from his lips seems to be the final straw, sending you crashing violently over the edge. You seize up around him with a shrill, sobbing wail, inner muscles clamping down in hot, pulsing waves. Carlos curses roughly, eyes squeezing shut against the unbelievable sensation of being massaged and milked for every drop.

If he thought the vice grip of your orgasm was intense, the aftermath is even more sublime. You lie utterly limp and boneless beneath him, still aflutter and fluttering in sweet, rhythmic clenches around his cock. He grits his jaw and fights to keep control, knowing he won’t last much longer buried in your intoxicating heat like this.

When you finally regain some coherency, eyes fluttering open with a dazed murmur of his name, Carlos pulls back slowly until just the throbbing crown remains inside. He intends to give you a brief respite before chasing his own thunderous release, but the moment he starts to withdraw your legs lock high around his hips.

“No ...” You keen, nails raking pleadingly down his back. The desperate craving in your tone very nearly undoes him. “Carlos, please. Don’t stop ...”

Growling low in his chest, Carlos immediately buries himself home once more — this time with a single, powerful thrust that has your brows shooting up as the air rushes from your lungs in a strangled cry. Clearly, you still need it as much as he does.

He fists one hand in the tousled hair at the nape of your neck, using the grip to tilt your head to one side as he lays a searing path of nips and sucking kisses along the exposed column. You shudder and whimper beneath him, utterly pliant and receptive to his claiming touches.

“Tell me what you want, cariño,” he rasps between rough drags of teeth over your thundering pulse point. He remains buried to the hilt, muscles bunched and quivering with the effort of holding himself rigid and still inside you. “Use your words and tell me.”

For a long moment, you seem too dazed and overwhelmed to reply. Then, in a small, wrecked voice, “I want … I want you to fuck me, Carlos. Please ...” Your eyes are glazed yet earnest, boring into his from beneath sooty lashes. “Don’t hold back. I need to feel you come too.”

A harsh groan is punched from Carlos’ lungs at your plea. Letting himself go and really taking you the way his body screams at him to would be heaven and hell all at once.

There’s likely no coming back from it — he’ll ruin you for anyone else’s touch, just as he warned. Once all is said and done, you’ll be irrevocably his in a way that frightens and exhilarates him to his core.

For a heart-stopping moment, he hesitates. And then you moan again — a thin, keening sound of utter desperation — and it’s like the last thread of Carlos’ control snaps completely.

“Hold on tight then, cariño ... because I won’t be able to stop.”

That’s the only warning he gives before pulling almost fully out and slamming back home in one brutal thrust that drives the air from your lungs on a high, shocked cry. He doesn’t let up from there — turning you over onto your belly and dragging your hips up onto his thighs so he can take you from behind in a series of ruthless, punishing strokes.

You quickly become an incoherent, sobbing mess beneath his onslaught, hands clawing uselessly at the sheets as he pounds into you again and again like he’s trying to split you apart. Carlos relishes the sharp smack of sweat-slick flesh on flesh, the strained crescendo of your hoarse wails, the drug-like delirium of being utterly surrounded and consumed by your scorching velvet grip.

It’s too much and not enough all at once. He clutches you flush against him, one big hand spread over your lower stomach like he could somehow force his cock impossibly deeper. The other winds around to toy and tug almost cruelly at your taut, reddened nipples — drawing out a stream of broken, overwhelmed whimpers.

Carlos has never felt more powerful. Body and mind, he owns you utterly in this moment. The thought is nearly enough to send him skating right over the edge into oblivion.

Instead, he jerks you up onto your knees fully so he can plunge into your straining, overworked sex at a different angle — this one hitting something deep inside that has you screaming hoarsely. He captures the wild thrash of your head in the curve of one sweat-slick bicep to bare the elegant line of your throat to his hungry mouth.

“Could you possibly have taken any more of me, princesa?” Carlos husks against the side of your neck, relishing the way it makes you tremble and clench even harder around his pistoning length. “You were made just to be split open on my cock ...”

You let out a garbled sound halfway between agreement and overwhelmed protest. Carlos snarls against your racing pulse, sucking a blatant mark of possession just below your jaw where everyone will be able to see before abruptly rolling you both back over.

He looms above you once more, grinding steadily into your core with deep, purposeful strokes that leave you writhing and wailing with over-stimulation. But Carlos isn’t finished yet — isn’t anywhere close to getting his fill.

“Look at me, cariño,” he commands in a guttural rasp, waiting with molten, heavy-lidded eyes until your lust-drunk stare meets his. “I need to see that pretty face when I come inside you ...”

His words seem to energize you somewhat, your eyes snapping sharper with renewed awareness.

And then, incredibly, you cunt flutters and grips down around him again in the unmistakable clutch of another orgasm ripping through you like a livewire. Carlos has to use every ounce of stamina and control not to follow you right over that blinding edge as you thrash and shriek beautifully beneath him.

By the time you come back down, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, Carlos is practically vibrating with the force of his impending release. His movements have taken on a desperate edge, hips snapping in erratic, forceful jabs as he chases that final blissful oblivion.

When your sated, velvety heat squeezes rhythmically one final time, Carlos throws his head back with his own roar of release. White-hot rapture spikes through every nerve ending as his balls tighten in excruciating bliss. His world narrows down to the exquisite pulsing of your sheathed depths rippling and drawing every last drop from him in endless, blistering waves.

It seems to stretch on forever, Carlos unable and unwilling to move from his impaled position even once the final shudders have wrung him dry. He simply remains blanketed over you, lungs heaving and muscles quaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

When he finally regains enough presence of mind to open his eyes and look down at you, the devotion burning in your spent, glowing expression makes his breath catch. For a long, fragile moment, it’s like you’re the only two people in the world.

Eventually, your eyes drift shut on a contented sigh and your body goes lax and pliant against the sheets once more. Carefully, Carlos eases out of your swollen, used entrance and rolls to collapse in a sweaty heap beside you. He immediately tugs you into his embrace, savoring the feeling of your damp, feverish skin pressed to his.

As you drift off to slumber coiled against his chest, Carlos presses a lingering, tender kiss to your crown and tightens his arms around you. He can feel the words pressing at his lips, straining to be released into the silence of this moment.

For now, he keeps them locked behind his teeth. But already he knows this isn’t simply lust or passion or a primal need for revenge that will fade with time. This was always meant to be more — something deeper …. everything Carlos never even realized he was missing until you stormed into his life in a whirlwind of smiles and secrets and blinding desire.

He’s in trouble now. Trouble of the very best kind.

***

Pale morning light filters in through the sheer curtains as Carlos blinks awake slowly. For a disoriented moment, he’s unsure of his surroundings — the rumpled white linens tangled around his naked body are certainly not what he’s used to waking up in.

Then the previous night’s events come rushing back in a heated wave. The pool … the frantic, desperate passion as he took you again and again until you were both hollowed out and sated … finally collapsing into a sweaty pile together. Carlos feels his chest tighten with a complicated swirl of emotions.

He turns his head on the pillow to find the source of the delicious warmth pressed along his side. And just like that, everything else falls away.

You’re tangled up with him still, one shapely leg hooked over his and an arm flung possessively across his torso. Loose riotous locks tickle Carlos’ skin where your face is half-buried in the curve of his neck.

He has to tamp down the overwhelming urge to pull you even closer, to wrap you in his arms and inhale the sweet, clean scent of your hair.

Like this — sleep-rumpled and soft in the morning’s buttery rays — you look almost unbearably lovely. An ache blossoms behind Carlos’ ribs as he studies the delicate fan of your lashes brushing flushed cheekbones and the gentle part of those full lips. Disheveled and without a stitch of make-up, you’re somehow even more breathtakingly beautiful.

Unconsciously, Carlos’ fingers find their way into your tangled tresses, lightly stroking and playing with the silken strands. You make a small, snuffling sound of contentment and burrow infinitesimally closer. He freezes, worried he’s disturbed your slumber, but your features remain smooth and serene.

He should get up. He should definitely get up and extract himself from this warm, addictive little bubble you’ve created before things go any further. This was only ever supposed to be a fling — a deliciously vindictive way to get back at your father for how he so callously cast Carlos aside.

Yet even as Carlos turns the thought over in his head, it rings hollow. What happened between you last night transcended anything so petty and cruel as revenge.

When he was sheathed so deeply inside you, your bodies moving in perfect sync like they were made for each other, Carlos felt something far more profound than just physical gratification. It was spiritual … cosmic, even, like every star in the universe had finally clicked into perfect alignment.

He should be disgusted with himself for having such saccharine notions. Carlos has always considered himself a realist — someone grounded in facts and figures, not given to romantic flights of fancy whatsoever. Yet here he is, helplessly mooning over a woman he barely knows all because of one night of incredible sex.

Except … Carlos is self-aware enough to recognize there was more to it than that, even if he can’t put words to the feeling yet. Some invisible cord has been lashed between you in a knot that feels unbreakable. Some intangible shift has occurred in his perspective that he can’t seem to walk back from.

Perhaps you sensed it too in the way you gazed at him afterwards — not just satiated, but glowing with a sort of wondering, naked adoration far too profound for a mere fuck. Carlos knows he should have been unnerved by the depth of emotion in your spent, happy features. And yet, he only felt it mirrored and compounded tenfold within himself.

With a frustrated huff, he tugs you closer and burrows his face into your hair, allowing your warm, comforting scent to soothe his wildly spiraling thoughts. You make another soft sound and your fingers twitch where they’re splayed over his ribs — reflexively trying to pull him in even tighter.

“What are you doing to me, princesa?” Carlos murmurs, low and graveled, against the crown of your head. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go at all ...”

Because the truth is, this was never meant to be anything more than a fleeting dalliance — an explosive joining of bodies and nothing more. But now that he’s had you, had this bone-deep connection to you, Carlos doesn’t think he can let it go so easily. The prospect of never again feeling you wrapped so perfectly around him in every sense of the word is abruptly gut-wrenchingly awful.

Which leaves him at an impasse. Because you … you are the daughter of the very man who unceremoniously discarded Carlos like an old rag after he gave everything to Ferrari. The offspring of the person who threw him away in a way that cut all the way to his core.

How could he possibly pursue anything real with you after that? It would be a horrific conflict of interests and constantly make things unbearably awkward, to say the very least. Not to mention Carlos has no idea if you even want more than just this one night of passion between you anyway. Perhaps to you he really was just an itch to scratch, a bout of impulsive lust to take the edge off before moving on.

The thought makes his stomach churn with jealousy so potent he has to physically swallow it back. Which … is not great, all things considered.

Tilting your head back with the lightest touch beneath your chin, Carlos studies your soft features searchingly. Perhaps if he stares hard enough, he’ll find some hint of deception or shallowness there. Some glaring evidence that this insane sense of yearning he feels is all one-sided — a misguided obsession brought on by the sort of euphoric sex one can never quite recapture once the high fades. He could use that as his cue to bow out now while you’re still tangled up together so prettily.

But even as he looks, really looks, all Carlos sees is the serene picture of a thoroughly satisfied, openly contented woman. There’s no shuttered gaze or pinched expression betraying any darker thoughts and feelings. Just blissed-out joy written in every relaxed line of those lovely features.

Something in Carlos’ chest cracks wide open at the realization that this is real for you too. You’re not just some meaningless one-off fling, but a woman who seems to have had her entire world upended in the same way his has been over the span of one incredible night.

“Carlos?” You murmur then, voice husky and slurred with the remnants of sleep as your lashes flutter open. “What’s wrong, mon beau?”

Your endearment sends a shockwave of tenderness and want pulsing through him straight to the roots. Carlos shakes his head minutely, winding one hand into your hair to hold you steady so he can simply … bask in your presence for a while.

“Nothing’s wrong, princesa,” he assures you lowly, thumb stroking gently over the arch of your cheekbone. “I just woke up early and got a little lost in my head for a bit there, that’s all.”

That small, secret smile he’s rapidly becoming addicted to tugs at your lips as your eyes rove languidly over his face. Your hand comes up to rest over his thundering heartbeat with surprising tenderness.

“Well then allow me to bring you back to the present. Right here with me.”

Your tone has taken on that rich sultriness from last night that shoots straight to his groin. Before Carlos can so much as draw breath to respond, you’re rising up to seal your mouth over his in a searingly passionate kiss.

He groans instantly, every atom of his being tuned to your frequency in a way that’s swiftly becoming terrifyingly natural. Carlos’ hands roam hungrily over your naked curves of their own volition, relearning each dip and swell through the silken glide of skin on skin.

When you break apart at last, you’re both thoroughly breathless and aroused. Carlos splays one big hand over the small of your back and simply holds you flush against him, savoring the feeling of your racing heart thundering in tandem with his own. He brushes kiss-swollen lips along the line of your jaw, prompting a delicious shiver.

“Don’t think for one second that I’ve had even a fraction of my fill of you yet, cariño,” he rasps against the feverish skin just below your ear, using his free hand to tug your head back so he can access the soft column of your throat. “You’ve addicted me beyond any chance of recovery now.”

Your breath hitches as he latches his mouth just above your thundering pulse point and sucks a blatant mark. Carlos revels in the needy whimpers spilling from your lips with each pass of his tongue over the tender patch of skin. He needs to mark you, claim you, render you unmistakable as his in every possible way.

“Carlos ...” You keen, back arching like a drawn bow as he continues trailing open-mouthed kisses down the slope of your neck and over your collarbones. “What are you saying?”

He pulls back to meet your heavy-lidded gaze, searching intently for permission to continue with what he suspects you’re asking. And there it is — desire and hope and invitation burning brightly in your soulful eyes, practically begging him to put words to this singular thing blazing between you.

Cupping your face in both hands, Carlos holds your rapt stare as he slowly, reverently presses a soft, lingering kiss to your slightly parted lips. You melt into him, one hand coming up to clutch desperately at his bicep.

“I’m saying,” he murmurs against the plush give of your pretty mouth. “That I can’t simply let this be the end, princesa. Not anymore. Not after experiencing what it feels like to be so exquisitely connected with someone in every possible way.”

The smile you give him in answer is as incandescent and warm as a living flame. You don’t attempt to contain the rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. Instead, you simply wind your arms around Carlos’ neck and pull him down into a molten kiss that somehow manages to convey every single infinite feeling ricocheting between your bodies.

He suddenly feels so overwhelmingly lucky in that moment. Lucky to have crossed paths with you by happenstance. Lucky that, by some miracle, he didn’t allow bitterness or pain or preconceived notions to blind him to your kindness and warmth and inherent goodness despite how this whole crazy thing started in his mind.

Because yes, you are the daughter of the man who turned his life and career upside down. But here, pressed against you, Carlos can feel the truth resonating through his bones — you are so much more than any of that.

And for the first time in his life, Carlos cannot fathom the idea of anything frightening him away.

***

The frantic Melbourne nightlife whirls and pulsates around Carlos in a dizzying kaleidoscope of neon lights and pounding basslines. Normally he would revel in the thrum of energy and excess — drinking in the atmosphere and feeding off the infectious exhilaration. But tonight, seated alone in the VIP lounge of one of the city’s most exclusive clubs, he finds his attention utterly undivided.

You stand out like a siren among the raucous crowd, every tilt of your hips and toss of your hair captivating Carlos completely.

He tracks the line of your body shamelessly as you sway and twist to the driving beat, that tantalizing little red dress riding up to reveal glimpses of toned, silky thighs that make his mouth water. A fine sheen of sweat glistens enticingly along your collarbones and in the hollow of your throat, no doubt making your overheated skin taste like salted caramel.

The urge to slide up behind you and drag his tongue along that slender, tempting slope is damn near overwhelming. He can vividly picture himself molding his larger frame against your softly undulating form, one hand spanning possessively across your lower belly to grind the rapidly stiffening ridge of his arousal against the lush swell of your rear.

He imagines precisely how you would react — arching back against him with a shuddering gasp, fingers threading into his hair to tug his mouth down upon yours in a frantic, needy kiss. How you would whimper and writhe against him, uncaring of the very public surroundings as desire rapidly whited everything else out ...

Almost as if sensing the scorching path of Carlos’ thoughts, you glance over your shoulder and catch his eye from beneath the veil of your lashes. That sly, inviting little smile immediately kicks his pulse into overdrive and lights a slow bloom of liquid heat unfurling in his lower belly.

With a crooked finger and a subtle uptilt of your chin you summon him to your side. And like the hopeless fool he is, Carlos rises instantly and crosses the small distance to enfold you in his arms from behind.

“Having fun out here without me, cariño?” He murmurs in your ear, lips brushing the sensitive shell so he feels the full-body shiver that wracks through you.

You lean back into his embrace, all soft curves and intoxicating jasmine scent. “I’m always having fun when I’m with you, Mr. Race Winner,” you sigh as your fingers trail delicately down the solid line of his biceps. “Even if we’re just sitting around doing nothing.”

The words are simple — honest and unguarded in a way that makes Carlos’ heart seize in his chest. For two people who came together in a wild collision of lust and passion, it’s moments like these that continually remind him of how much deeper your connection truly runs. Far beyond mere physicality into some soul-binding and unbreakable place.

You must sense the shift in his energy because you turn in his arms, expression questioning but so openly caring it nearly steals Carlos’ breath away. Tenderly, you cup his jaw and search his eyes.

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, hmm?”

He shakes his head minutely, leaning down to brush his lips across your forehead before pulling you snug against his chest. You settle easily into the circle of his arms like that’s the most natural place in the world, cheek pillowed over his steadily thrumming heart.

“Nothing to worry about, princesa,” Carlos assures you gruffly, stroking soothing circles over the warm bare skin of your back. “Just feeling … lucky, I suppose. To have found someone like you.”

The words seem to catch you off guard and you pull back slightly to study his face, mouth curved in that secretive little smile that always makes Carlos’ stomach swoop.

“Well, I certainly feel the luckiest woman on Earth,” you tease lightly, booping his nose in a playful gesture that somehow serves to implant roots deep in Carlos’ soul rather than make him roll his eyes.

Instead, he just gazes at you for a long, weighted moment, allowing himself to simply bask in your presence. In the soft beauties that first drew him in — that delicate blush that finds its way across your nose and cheekbones, the little crinkles that bloom when your smile widens to that mega-watt, face-splitting beam, and those soulful eyes that never fail to pin Carlos helplessly in place.

Then there are the quieter, more intimate details he’s gradually uncovered the deeper he delves into your connection. The barely-there laugh lines at the corners of your eyes when you’re feeling particularly pleased about something. The trick of tugging on your lower lip with your teeth when you’re aroused and trying not to show it. The subtle furrow that appears between your brows when you’re concentrating intently on something.

Carlos knows them all now like geography he was born to navigate.

Without conscious thought, he smooths his thumbs over your jaw and guides you up into a slow, thorough kiss that has both your pulses kicking into overdrive. You whine quietly into his mouth, winding your arms around his neck and arching against him in ways that instantaneously have him hard and aching. But Carlos doesn’t give in to the heated urgency coursing through his bloodstream.

Instead, he keeps the languid glide of his lips over yours unhurried and leisurely — savoring the sensation of you pliant and receptive beneath his seduction. You seem to shake off your initial fervor as well, melting further into the molten drag of his mouth claiming yours over and over.

This too is a geography Carlos has long since mastered. The precise angle he needs to tilt his head to slot your bodies effortlessly flush together. The soft, mewling noises he can coax out of you with carefully applied suction to your plush lower lip. The tiny shudders when he swipes his tongue in long, slick caresses over the roof of your mouth.

You’re practically vibrating with restraint by the time he finally releases your mouth with an obscene, wet pop. Your lips are swollen and glistening, glistening with shared wanting. Carlos hums deep in his chest and brushes the pad of his thumb over the slick fullness reverently.

“So impatient, cariño,” he chides with a wolfish grin that has your nipples visibly peaking beneath the thin lace bodice. “You know that’s not what I had in mind for tonight.”

With an adorable little pout, you wind your arms around his neck once more. “And what, pray tell, did you have in mind?”

A dozen filthy scenarios immediately clamor for attention in Carlos’ head. Having you right here, up against the wall of this secluded VIP area. Bending you over the sleek lines of one of the low leather couches. Finding a shadowed alcove and sinking to his knees before you, nosing aside those delicate strips of lace to ...

He banishes each carnal thought before it can take root and produce visible effect. Tangling his fingers through the soft tresses at the nape of your neck, Carlos brings your foreheads together with a soft smile.

“I thought we might enjoy a moonlight stroll along the beach actually,” he murmurs, relishing the way your disappointed huff ruffles against his skin. “Just you and me under the stars, far away from the noise and crowds for a while.”

You regard him dubiously for a moment before seeming to melt at whatever expression Carlos doesn’t realize he’s allowed to show through. As always, you give in far too easily to his indulgent whims.

With a soft, fond roll of your eyes, you press up on your toes to drop a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Of course, mon amour. Just you and me under the stars.”

Twenty minutes later finds you ambling hand in hand down a pristine stretch of beach in the Middle Park suburb. The warm, salty breeze gusts gently over your skin, carrying traces of coconut sunscreen and the briny musk of the sea. Foamy waves lap invitingly against the silvered sands as Carlos steers you towards a small, isolated cove.

He procures a large woven blanket from his bag and unfurls it in a clear spot before tugging you down into the plush nest of fabric. You immediately gravitate into his space — curling against his side and tucking yourself beneath his arm like that’s where you were always meant to fit. For Carlos’ part, he cherishes the easy affection and careless intimacy of the simple gesture more than you’ll ever know.

You spend what could be minutes or hours like that — exchanging lazy kisses and sipping from a shared bottle of wine as the moon rises ever higher overhead. After a while, Carlos sprawls onto his back and you quickly drape yourself half-atop him so he can leisurely card his fingers through your windswept tresses.

The soft, steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear combined with the soothing sounds of the lapping tide soon have your eyelids drooping. Carlos has never felt so at peace — this sublime bubble with you the single point around which the rest of the universe spins, perfectly in balance.

“Hey,” you mumble against the warm, sleep-rumpled fabric of his shirt. “Aren’t you the one always saying we should be living in the present?”

He huffs a quiet laugh, stroking one hand down the dip of your spine to rest possessively at the base. “What brings that up all of a sudden?”

You shift enough to look up at him through your lashes, eyes molten with a familiar heat that shivers down Carlos’ spine.

“I’m just wondering what’s got you stuck in your head so often these days,” you counter smoothly, punctuating the observation by swinging one leg over his hips so you can settle atop him fully, careful not to disturb his still-tender stitches. “We’ve barely been able to share … intimate moments at all the last month or so.”

Carlos sucks in a sharp breath as your weight settles over the rapidly stiffening ridge of his arousal. His hands find your hips of their own volition, squeezing reflexively as you begin moving atop him in a slow, undulating rhythm.

“Perhaps I’ve been overtly romantic,” he allows through gritted teeth, letting his head thunk back against the blanket as desire rapidly thrums through his veins. “Missing out on more … physical expressions of passion just because I wanted to remind both of us that this is built on so much more than lust.”

You hum thoughtfully, sitting up fully and swaying atop him in a way that has Carlos rapidly losing his tenuous grasp on reality beyond this blissful patch of the world containing just the two of you. He’s fully hard and straining against the loose linen of his slacks within moments.

“Then maybe we should do something about that right now,” you breathe huskily, arching your back in an inhumanly graceful roll that leaves Carlos’ mouth dry as the Sahara. His hands track helplessly up the delicious curves of your waist, bunching the delicate material of your dress around your hips.

He sits up to meet you so suddenly your foreheads nearly crack together. You release a breathless giggle that Carlos hungrily swallows with his lips, trapping you in a searing kiss filled with all the smoldering hunger he’s been studiously keeping banked for weeks now.

Mindlessly, he chases the taste of you over and over — salty and sweet and everything he’s been desperately starving himself for. His fingers fumble at the tie closures along your ribs until the bodice finally falls away, baring your breasts to his gaze and seeking hands.

You gasp softly into the heated seal of his mouth when Carlos’ calloused palms close over your soft, pliant flesh. He cups and kneads with reverent, possessive strokes that have you quickly arching your chest further into his touch and throwing your head back on a wanton moan.

“Carlos ...” You breathe his name like a prayer, riding his lap with increasing urgency and bringing your mouths back together in a clash of teeth and tongues. Your fingers slide up beneath the hem of his shirt to map the shifting planes of his abdomen, nails raking over the taut, quivering muscles. “Don’t hold back with me any longer. Not tonight … need to feel all of you.”

A shudder wracks Carlos’ entire frame at your breathy plea. He knows you’re right, can feel that same desperate yearning driving you magnified inside himself. Every cell of his body is vibrating with the need to take you fully — heart, mind, and body aligning in euphoric harmony after so many weeks of well meaning denial.

Seizing your hips in a bruising grip, Carlos surges to his feet and simply holds you against him with easy strength. Your legs immediately wind around his waist as you giggle deliriously against his lips.

“Is this what you want, princesa?” He murmurs lowly, swaying subtly to grind his straining need over the lush juncture of your thighs in counterpoint. “For me to finally have my way with you the way we’ve both been craving?”

“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, back arching as Carlos nips and sucks a path down the slender column of your neck. “God, yes, Carlos. Will you just fuck me already? Here on the sand and beneath the open sky like something out of one of those romance novels you pretend not to love.”

The easy teasing breaks through whatever lingering threads of Carlos’ control were still intact and he growls low in his chest. In one deft motion, he divests you both of the rest of your clothes and spreads you out on the blanket before him in all your unabashed glory. His gaze tracks over your form hungrily, drinking in every dip and swell as you watch him with dark, wanting eyes.

“Princesa ...” Carlos breathes, gratified to see his own desire and reverent longing reflected back at him tenfold in your heated stare. “No more waiting, no more teasing.”

His meaning is clear even without the punctuation of sinking down to settle fully over your smaller form, blanketing you with his weight and forcing your thighs apart to cradle his hips. You immediately writhe beneath him, winding limber arms and legs around him in a vice grip that sears every point of contact between you.

“Carlos, mon cœur ...” You keen breathily into the scant space separating your lips, every word punched from you in counterpoint to the sensual roll of his hips grinding his arousal through your slick folds. “Please. I need you. Need to feel you all around me again after so long.”

He crushes his mouth to yours in answer, tongue instantly delving deep to taste the exquisite velvet heat of you. You clutch him closer even as Carlos shifts his weight to one forearm so his other hand can roam freely over every inch of bare, pebbled skin he can reach. When his calloused palm finally finds your breast and gives a rough squeeze, you shudder and cry out into his waiting lips.

There’s no more waiting after that. Carlos sheaths himself in one powerful, purposeful thrust that buries him to the hilt and your gasp dissolves into a broken moan. He stills for the briefest of moments, just reveling in the unbearably tight clutch of your molten sheath, every nerve ending alight and thrumming. Then he slowly withdraws until just the swollen head remains inside before immediately surging forward once more.

Your nails score lines of liquid fire down his back at the first deep, dragging stroke. But Carlos barely notices the delicious sting. He’s utterly consumed by the feeling of finally being surrounded by you again — hot, snug, and so utterly perfect. Every sound and shudder and arch of your form against his own is like the sweetest plea washing over him.

He sets a demanding pace, relentlessly pounding into you from that first jarring thrust onward. The only sounds are your mingled cries and the wet, obscene smack of flesh on flesh echoing out over the lapping ocean waves. Carlos wants to make sure there’s no doubt in your mind how much he’s craved every inch of you.

“There’s my good girl,” he rasps hotly against the bullet-hard peak of your nipple before laving it soothingly with his tongue. You release a strangled cry, back bowing sharply off the blanket as you clench down on him in rippling, vice-like pulses. “Fuck … taking me just how you were made to. So damn perfect, cariño.”

Your garbled whimpers and keens of his name drive Carlos to new levels of feverish intensity with each hitching breath. He snakes an arm beneath your sweat-slick lower back to position your hips at a slightly higher angle, seating himself even more deeply inside.

Every purposeful thrust now grinds against that tender cluster of nerves in a way that quickly has your eyes rolling back. You go boneless and whimpering, allowing Carlos to manhandle and use your plaint and plush form in whatever way he craves.

Pressure rapidly mounts within Carlos like an incoming tidal wave as your inner walls begin fluttering around him in telltale pulses. He can feel his own imminent release building in tandem at the base of his spine, that familiar molten curl of pleasure threatening to crest.

“That’s it, princesa,” he grits out raggedly against the sweat-slick arch of your throat. He slides the hand not anchoring your hips down to toy with the engorged pearl at your apex — drawing out a stream of sobbing wails. “Take what’s yours. Fucking milk me with that greedy little cunt. You were made for this cock, made to be split open and ruined on it over and over until you’ve got no idea where you end and I begin.”

The filthy words seems to be your undoing. With a sobbing cry of Carlos’ name, you seize up — inner walls rippling and convulsing like they’re taking him for everything he’s worth. Carlos hardens his jaw and summons the last threads of his control to keep himself from shattering apart at the very first fluttering pulse.

As the shattering waves of your release gradually crest and ebb, Carlos chases them down with powerful thrusts designed to prolong and intensify every aftershock. You writhe and whimper beneath him in overstimulated pleasure, rapidly going boneless and sated.

That’s when he finally surrenders to the smoldering inferno in his belly, hips snapping forward in a few final, erratic strokes before Carlos throws back his head and allows his own orgasm to rip through him. White-hot euphoria explodes across every nerve ending as he empties himself in heavy, throbbing pulses deep inside your spasming core.

“Ah fuck … just like that, cariño,” he rasps out hoarsely, grinding himself as deeply inside you as physically possible and simply shuddering through each exquisite contraction. “Taking every last fucking drop of me right where you were made for it ...”

Utterly spent, Carlos collapses forward with the last dregs of his stamina — just barely managing to catch himself on shaking forearms so he doesn’t crush you beneath his weight. You immediately latch onto him, peppering his flushed face with sweet kisses.

For several long moments, you simply hold each other through the aftershocks, chests heaving and bodies trembling. Carlos has never felt more peaceful or completely at ease in his entire life. His every sense is utterly surrounded and suffused by you in the most blissful of ways.

When his lashes finally flutter open, the first thing he sees is your adoring smile glowing up at him in the moonlight. It nearly steals what little breath remains in his lungs.

“Hi,” you murmur shyly. Carlos huffs out a breathless chuckle and tugs you even closer until your overwarm bodies are aligned from navel to sternum.

“Hi yourself, princesa,” he replies, just as softly against your lips before sinking into another deep, leisurely kiss that tastes equal parts salt and sex and forever.

When you part again, your eyes are sparkling with so much uncomplicated happiness that Carlos nearly melts into a useless puddle on the spot. He’s drowning and he’s never felt more gloriously unmoored.

“I love you, y’know? Like … down to the depths of my soul,” your fingers trail over the sharp jaw and cheekbones you now know better than your own.

The words should terrify Carlos with their intensity and implication. Instead, they simply roll through him in a cresting wave of overwhelming tenderness and clarity.

Of course he loves you. How could he not, when his existence now seems to revolve around your presence as the only fixed point in a dizzying orbit?

So rather than balk or deflect or shove those emotions back down, Carlos allows every infinite but of love and adoration and soul-deep need to shine through unfettered. He cradles your face between his palms and simply stares, committing every minuscule detail of this moment to memory before leaning down to brush his lips over yours in the sweetest, most loaded caress.

“I love you too, princesa,” he murmurs the words directly into your mouth like a sacrament. “With every fiber of my being. You are my everything.”

You tug him down into a heated, clinging embrace, holding him like you never intend to let go.

And at last, Carlos knows without a shadow of doubt that he never will either