#how did they not notice the man that he is?

[cressidagrey]

White Horse - Chapter 2: April 2023

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes: 

...I am definitely blown away by the reception this story got. I did not expect that AT ALL, so thank you very much...and here you have Chapter 2! Warnings: we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Bad Real Estate decisions, Max being a simp for his girl, discussion of former toxic relationships...I think that's it? If I missed something, let me know.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

"Isabelle," Max murmured against her lips, his hands firm but steady on her waist.

She barely heard him. Not when he kissed her like this—slow and deep, his thumb brushing over her hip, his body warm and solid against hers. She curled her fingers into his shirt, pulling him closer, tilting her head to kiss him harder. When he groaned softly, she took it as encouragement, pressing up against him and reaching for the hem of his shirt.

But just as her fingers grazed the skin of his stomach, Max caught her wrist, pulling back slightly.

"Wait."

She blinked up at him, lips parted, breath uneven. "What?"

His hands slid from her waist to her arms, a soothing touch. "We don’t have to rush."

Isabelle frowned. "I know we don’t have to. But I want to."

Max exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "I don’t want you to think this is just about that."

She froze, her mind stuttering over his words. "What?"

He studied her carefully, thumb rubbing small circles into her skin. "I like you. A lot. And I want you to know that I’m serious about this."

Isabelle stared at him, something in her chest tightening. No one had ever said that to her before. Every other boyfriend had been eager, had expected, had—

She swallowed. "You don’t… want me?"

Max’s expression softened, his grip on her tightening just slightly, like he wanted to anchor her in place. "Of course I do," he said, voice low, almost reverent. "I just don’t want you to think that’s all I want."

Her breath hitched.

She had never been anyone’s priority. Never been someone who wasn’t easy to forget, easy to leave behind. But here was Max, the most wanted man on the grid, telling her he wanted her—but not just her body.

Something like disbelief flickered in her chest. "You’re serious."

Max huffed a quiet laugh, brushing his nose against hers. "Very."

Isabelle swallowed again, her throat tight, and let herself relax into him. She let herself believe him.

"Okay."

Max smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Good."

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Max Verstappen

Isabelle: Max.

Max:  Good morning, Schatje.

Isabelle: Don’t start. Did you actually buy that penthouse?

Max: Yes.

Isabelle: And did you demand that I be the only architect allowed to work on it??

Max: Yes.

Isabelle: Do you have any idea how bad this looks?

Max: What’s bad about wanting the best?

Isabelle: MAX.

Isabelle: Do you know what people at work are saying now??

Max: That I have excellent taste in architects?

Isabelle: They think I got this project because of Charles.

Max: … What?

Isabelle: Oh yeah. The rumors are great. Apparently, I’m here because I’m a Leclerc, not because I actually worked for it.

Max: … That’s stupid.

Isabelle: Tell that to my coworkers.

Max: You think I’d let Charles pick my architect?

Isabelle: No, but they don’t know that.

Max: Then tell them.

Isabelle: Oh sure, that’ll go well. “Actually, my brother had nothing to do with it, my boyfriend just demanded that I be the only one allowed to work on his project.” That sounds so much better.

Max: Ok, maybe that doesn’t help.

Isabelle: You think??

Max: I just wanted to work with you.

Isabelle: Yeah, and now people are whispering about nepotism and favoritism and how I’m only here because of my family name.

Max: They clearly don’t know you.

Isabelle: I KNOW. But it’s still frustrating. I’ve worked my ass off, Max. I didn’t want my name getting me jobs. I wanted my work to.

Max: And it has. That’s why I picked you. Not because of your name. Because I trust you.

Isabelle: You could have given me a heads-up, you know.

Max: And you would have said no.

Isabelle: That is not the point.

Max: But would you?

Isabelle:: …

Max: That’s what I thought.

Isabelle: You really bought that penthouse just so I could design it?

Max: I bought that penthouse because I liked it. But I only wanted you working on it.

Isabelle: You’re impossible.

Max: And you’re brilliant.

Isabelle: Thank you.

Max: Always.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: You are NOT going to believe what Max did.

Emilie: That sentence could mean literally anything.

Isabelle: He bought the penthouse. THE penthouse. The one we talked about once in passing.

Emilie: …Okay, that’s insane, but also, congrats? You love that place.

Isabelle: THAT’S NOT THE POINT.

Emilie: Oh, I think it is.

Isabelle: He also demanded that I be the architect working on it. Wouldn’t sign anything unless my name was on the project.

Emilie: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Isabelle: It’s not funny!

Emilie: No, it absolutely is.

Isabelle: People at work are already saying I only got the project because of Charles!

Emilie: Oh. Yeah, I can see that.

Isabelle: Which is wrong. Because I didn’t get it because of Charles. I got it because of my boyfriend, which is somehow worse.

Emilie: You say worse. I say deeply, deeply romantic.

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: Isabelle. 

Emilie: Your rich, lovesick boyfriend is out here spending millions just to have an excuse to see you every day, and you’re MAD?

Isabelle: I AM TRYING TO BE PROFESSIONAL.

Emilie: He is trying to wife you.

Isabelle: I hate you.

Emilie: No, you don’t. Now tell me—when’s the housewarming, and how much champagne should I bring?

***

Instagram Story – @/isabelleleclerc

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Max Verstappen

Isabelle: You CANNOT keep doing this.

Max: Doing what?

Isabelle: Abusing your “professional client” status to drag me to fancy lunches.

Max: I’m not abusing anything. We have important business discussions to conduct.

Isabelle: You mean the penthouse where you’ve approved every single one of my plans without question?

Max: Exactly. We need to make sure I have no doubts.

Isabelle: You just want an excuse to take me to a Michelin-starred restaurant.

Max: And?

Isabelle: That’s not how professional client-architect meetings work.

Max: It is when I’m the client.

Isabelle: Max.

Max: You don’t have to say yes.

Isabelle: …

Max: But you want to.

Isabelle: That’s not the point.

Max: Just think of it as me paying you for your excellent work.

Isabelle: That’s what your actual payments are for.

Max: But those aren’t fun.

Isabelle: MAX.

Isabelle: People at work already think I got this job because of Charles. Now you’re making it worse.

Max: First of all, you got this job because you’re brilliant.

Max: Second, if they think that, they’re idiots.

Max: Third, I booked a table with a view.

Isabelle: Max.

Max: Don’t pretend you don’t want to come.

Isabelle: That’s not the point.

Max: You didn’t say no.

Isabelle: …

Max: I’ll see you at one.

Isabelle: I officially regret ever mentioning my favorite restaurants to you.

Max: That was your mistake, not mine.

Max: But I’ll make it up to you with dessert.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: You will not believe what Max is doing.

Emilie: Oh, this is already good. Go on.

Isabelle: He’s using the penthouse project as an excuse to take me to fancy lunches.

Emilie: …And the problem is???

Isabelle: Emilie. People at work already think I got this job because of Charles. If they find out I’m going to Michelin-starred restaurants in the middle of the day with a client, I will NEVER hear the end of it.

Emilie: Okay, but is he actually talking about the penthouse during these lunches?

Isabelle: He pretends to for about five minutes. Then he just orders my favourite foods for me and acts like we’re on a date.

Emilie: …So you’re saying you’re mad because your boyfriend is taking you on nice dates and feeding you good food?

Isabelle: THAT IS NOT THE POINT.

Emilie: Oh, I think it is the point.

Isabelle: I just—he’s impossible!

Emilie: What restaurant was it this time?

Isabelle: Le Louis XV.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle:

Emilie: You are sitting here complaining to me after being wined and dined at ALAIN DUCASSE’S RESTAURANT???

Isabelle: I AM TRYING TO BE PROFESSIONAL.

Emilie: Shut up and tell me what you ate!

***

Isabelle laid out fabric swatches on the table, neatly arranging them in rows. “These are the options for the curtains,” she said, keeping her voice professional. “I’ve chosen materials that complement the lighting and textures in the space while also being durable.”

Max picked up a swatch at random, turning it over like he’s actually considering it. “Yeah… so which one do you like best?”

Isabelle sighed. “That’s not the point, Max.”

“But it kind of is,” he countered, leaning back in his chair. “You know what looks good. I trust you.”

She exhaled, trying to keep the conversation on track. “My job isn’t to pick what I like, it’s to give you the best options based on your preferences and the space—”

“My preference,” Max interrupted, “is to not think too hard about curtain fabrics. So, tell me, which one would you put in your own place?”

She pressed her lips together but eventually pointed to a light cream fabric with a soft texture. “This one.”

Max immediately nodded. “Perfect. We’ll go with that.”

“That’s not how this works,” Isabelle protested.

“It is now.” He grinned, tapping the swatch like the decision is final.

She gave him a look but moves on, pulling out samples for the kitchen backsplash. “Alright, for the tiles—”

Max smirked. “What do you like best?”

Isabelle groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “You are impossible.”

Max chuckled, thoroughly enjoying himself. “I don’t see the problem. You have good taste. I want my place to look good. This seems like a win-win situation.”

Isabelle lifted her head, giving him a flat look. “Max.”

“Yes?”

“You are literally paying me to make these decisions for you based on your preferences, not mine.”

Max shrugged. “Yeah, but my main preference is trusting you.”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “That’s not how this works.”

“It is when I’m the client.” His grin was infuriatingly smug.

Isabelle sighed, shaking her head, but she couldn’t quite hide the small smile creeping onto her face. “Fine. But if you hate something later, I’m telling everyone this was your fault.”

“I won’t hate it,” Max said easily, glancing at the tile samples. “So… which one would you use in your own kitchen?”

Isabelle groaned dramatically. “You are impossible.”

Max just smirked. “You already said that.”

Isabelle rubbed her temples like she’s trying to ward off a headache. “You know, most clients want a functional, cohesive design that suits their lifestyle.”

Max leant back against the kitchen island, watching her with amused eyes. “And I want a functional, cohesive design that you think looks good.”

“That’s not—” She exhaled sharply. “Okay, fine. I’d go with the marble option for the counters. It’s classic, it won’t date badly, and it works with the natural light in here.”

Max nodded like that’s exactly what he was going to pick anyway. “Perfect. Marble it is.”

Isabelle narrowed her eyes. “You’re just agreeing with me so I stop arguing with you.”

“Maybe.” He grinned. “Or maybe I actually value your opinion.”

She huffed, flipping through the fabric swatches again. “Alright, what about your bedroom curtains? Darker shades are better for blocking light in the mornings.”

Max hummed, looking over the options. “Which one do you like?”

“Max.”

“What? You just said you’re designing for functionality. You clearly think one of these is the best choice.”

She muttered something under her breath, then points at a deep navy fabric. “This one. It’ll keep the room dark, and it’s not too heavy for the space.”

“Done.”

Isabelle levelled him with a suspicious look. “You’re making this way too easy.”

Max shrugged. “I told you. I trust you.” He gestures around the penthouse. “Besides, I plan to spend most of my time here with you. Might as well make sure you don’t hate it.”

She stilled for half a second, but then rolls her eyes like she’s not affected. “Professionalism, Max.”

Max just smirked, reaching for another set of samples. “Alright, Miss Leclerc, what’s next?”

Isabelle pointedly ignored the way her stomach does an annoying little flip at his words and refocuses on the task at hand. She flipped open her notebook, determined to keep things professional. "We still need to finalize your living room furniture. You said you wanted a sectional, right?"

Max nodded, leaning slightly over her shoulder to glance at her notes. "Yeah, something big enough to stretch out on. And for the cats."

She glanced up at him. "And for guests?"

Max blinked. "I mean, sure. If I have guests."

Isabelle sighed. "Do you ever think about designing your space for other people?"

"I am thinking about other people," he countered easily. "I’m thinking about you. You like to sit in the corner with a book, so we should get one with a deep chaise. And you like soft blankets, so whatever fabric we pick needs to feel nice."

She stared at him for a beat too long. "You—" She shakes her head. "You notice a lot more than you let on."

Max shrugged. "I like watching you."

Isabelle blinked rapidly and turned back to her samples before he could see the flush creeping up her neck. Professionalism. She needed to focus.

"Okay," she said, clearing her throat. "Fabric choices for the sectional—"

Max leant forward, already grinning. "Which one do you like?"

Isabelle groaned, slamming her notebook shut. "You are impossible."

Max just laughed. "I’m making sure my designer is happy with her work. That’s important, right?"

"That’s not how this works."

"Sure it is," he said breezily, nudging her shoulder with his. "If you think this place should feel like me, then I think it should feel like you, too."

Isabelle gripped her pen a little too tightly. "You’re insufferable."

Max grinned. "And yet, here you are."

Isabelle exhaled slowly, flipping through the swatches with more force than necessary. “Fine. You want my opinion? This one.” She pulled out a deep green fabric, soft under her fingers. “It’s comfortable, durable, and it won’t clash with anything else.”

Max reaches out, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. “It’s nice.” Then he grins. “You just like it because it’s your favourite colour.”

She paused. “That is not why I picked it.”

“Sure,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “But I remember you said you like green because it reminds you of home. And I want you to feel at home here.”

Isabelle’s fingers tighten around the fabric. “Max—”

“So, green it is,” he cut in before she can say anything else, grabbing the sample and setting it aside. Then he leans back, smug. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You have to stop doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Acting like this apartment is for both of us.”

Max tilted his head. “Well, you are spending a lot of time here.”

“That’s because I’m working.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, unconvinced. “And when the project is done?”

Isabelle pressed her lips together, not wanting to answer that question. Because the truth is, she didn’t know. She didn’t want to think about finishing this penthouse and walking away.

Max must have sensed her hesitation because his expression softened. “You know, you don’t have to leave when it’s done.”

She swallowed, trying to ignore the way her heart pounds. “Max.”

“I’m just saying,” he said, voice light but eyes serious. “I don’t mind having you around.”

Isabelle forced herself to focus back on her notebook. Professionalism. Boundaries. She had to remember them.

But as she moved on to the next decision—choosing dining chairs—she couldn’t  help but feel like she’s already losing that battle.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: Max is going to drive me insane.

Emilie: What did he do now?

Isabelle: He refuses to make a single decision about the penthouse. Not one.

Emilie: Oh, this is going to be good.

Isabelle: I showed him flooring samples, and he just said, “Which one do you like best, schatje?” I asked him about the kitchen walls, and he went, “I trust your taste.”

Emilie: He’s so in love with you, it’s actually disgusting.

Isabelle: EMILIE, I NEED HIM TO HAVE AN OPINION.

Emilie: He does. His opinion is that your opinion is the only one that matters.

Isabelle: That’s not how this works! He’s the one who has to live there!

Emilie: You will be the one living there with him, if he gets his way. He’s just pretending it’s not obvious.

Emilie: He’s setting up your future home together and letting you build it exactly the way you want. That man would let you paint the walls hot pink if it made you happy.

Emilie: He’s letting you pick everything because he wants you to feel at home.

Emilie: Tell me I’m wrong.

Isabelle: I hate you.

Emilie: No, you don’t. Now, if you suggested, hypothetically, that the whole kitchen should be neon green, how fast do you think he’d say yes?

Isabelle: He wouldn’t even hesitate.

Emilie: This man is whipped.

Emilie: He’s so gone for you. It’s actually hilarious.

Isabelle: This is a nightmare.

Emilie: Just be glad he’s not insisting on Red Bull colors.

Isabelle: I take it back. It could be worse.

***

Instagram Story – @/isabelleleclerc

****

"I think I’m falling in love with him."

Isabelle hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It just slipped out, quiet and uncertain, as she sat across from Emilie at their usual café.

Emilie, mid-sip of her drink, slowly set her cup down and arched an eyebrow. “No shit.”

Isabelle groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “I mean too fast,” she muttered. “It’s too fast.”

Emilie leaned back, unimpressed. “Define ‘too fast.’”

“I don’t know.” Isabelle exhaled, sitting up and fiddling with the edge of her napkin. “It’s like—I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something to go wrong. For him to change.”

Emilie just stared at her for a long moment before sighing. “Belle. He’s treating you better than your own family ever did. That’s not ‘too fast.’ That’s just right.”

“That’s not—” Isabelle started, but Emilie held up a hand.

“Let’s review,” she said, counting on her fingers. “He listens to you. He remembers things you like. He makes time for you. He prioritizes you. That’s the bare minimum of what you deserve, Belle. And you know damn well you’ve never had it before.”

Isabelle swallowed hard.

Emilie’s expression softened. “Look, I get it. It’s scary when someone actually cares about you, especially when you’re used to being the afterthought. But Max? He’s not going anywhere. And you? You’re not falling too fast. You’re just finally being caught.”

Isabelle exhaled, staring down at her coffee.

“Also,” Emilie added, smirking, “you’re absolutely screwed, because I think you’ve been in love with him for weeks.”

Isabelle groaned again, and Emilie just laughed.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: Emilie. I think something is wrong with Max.

Emilie: Oh god, what happened??

Isabelle: He just gave me flowers.

Emilie: …And???

Isabelle: There’s no occasion. No reason. He just handed them to me and said, “Thought you’d like these.”

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: And then he pulled out my favorite wine. Already chilled. Already opened. Just there.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: AND THEN he sat with me. No phone, no distractions, just me. He asked about my day. Actually listened.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: WHY DO YOU KEEP SAYING MY NAME.

Emilie: Because you’re being so stupidly loved and acting like it’s a problem.

Isabelle: I just don’t know what to do with it. I feel like I should be doing something in return??

Emilie: You are. You exist. You let him love you. That’s enough.

Isabelle: But I’ve never—no one’s ever—

Emilie: I know. But this is what it’s supposed to be like.

Isabelle: …It feels weird.

Emilie: You’ll get used to it.

Isabelle: Will I?

Emilie: Yeah. And then one day, it won’t feel weird at all. It’ll just feel like love.

Isabelle: …Huh.

Emilie: Huh, she says. Like I haven’t been telling her this for years.

Isabelle: Shut up.

Emilie: Nope. Now go drink your fancy wine and let your boyfriend adore you.

Isabelle: …Fine.

Emilie: That’s my girl.

***

Instagram Post – @/isabelleleclerc

Comments:

@/arthur_leclerc: ??? From who?

@/charles_leclerc: Since when do you get flowers??

@/emilie_abadie: 👀👀👀

@/F1GossipQueen: OMG IS ISABELLE SOFT LAUNCHING A BOYFRIEND???

↳@/paddockprincessx: We are watching this situation VERY closely.

@/leclercsiblingtea: The Leclerc brothers seem deeply unsettled by this turn of events. 

@/lorenzotl: Be honest. Did you buy these for yourself?

***

Isabelle wasn’t trying to snoop.

She was just tidying up a little while Max was in the kitchen—because, frankly, he lived like someone who was always on the road (which he was). That’s how she spotted the iPad on the coffee table, screen still on. She had only glanced at it in passing, but then something caught her eye.

French lessons.

Her first reaction was confusion. Then amusement. Then something warmer, something that made her heartbeat do something a little ridiculous in her chest.

“Max?” she called out, picking up the iPad.

“Yeah?” His voice floated back from the kitchen, followed by the sound of the fridge opening. “Do you want some water?”

She walked in, holding up the iPad like it was evidence in a trial. “Are you secretly moving to Paris?”

Max turned around, brow furrowing. “What?”

She waved the iPad at him. “Since when are you learning French?”

His face did not do a good job of hiding his guilt. His eyes flickered to the screen, then back to her, and he shifted on his feet like he was debating snatching it out of her hands. “Oh. That.”

“Yes, that.” Isabelle crossed her arms, fighting a smile. “What’s the story, Verstappen? Career change? Planning to start giving post-race interviews in French?”

Max sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I live in Monaco. Figured it was time I actually learned, you know, the main language people speak here.”

Isabelle narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh.”

“What?” He shrugged. “It makes sense.”

“It does make sense.” She took a step closer. “Except you’ve lived in Monaco for years and have never cared before.”

Max glanced at the iPad again, like it would somehow save him. When it didn’t, he exhaled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Fine. Maybe I had another reason.”

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. “And that reason is?”

His ears were turning pink. “You.”

She blinked. “Me?”

“You switch to French when you’re with your family,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at her. “Or when you’re distracted. Or when you get really excited about something. And I—I wanted to understand you better.”

Oh.

Oh.

Isabelle stared at him, warmth flooding her chest. “Max…”

He sighed again, clearly bracing himself for teasing. “Look, if you think it’s stupid—”

“I don’t,” she interrupted, her voice soft. “I think it’s… really sweet.”

Max relaxed slightly, still wary. “Yeah?”

She smiled. “Yeah.” Then she nudged him. “Okay, say something.”

He groaned. “Now?”

“Yes, now.”

Max hesitated. Then, after a deep breath, he said—slowly, carefully—“Je veux tout comprendre de toi.”

I want to understand everything about you.

Isabelle’s breath caught.

She looked up at him, and suddenly, the teasing was gone. Her heart was thudding, her fingers itching to reach for him. “Max.”

He shifted again. “Did I say it wrong?”

She shook her head. Then, without thinking, she leaned up and kissed him.

Max made a startled sound but recovered quickly, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer. When she finally pulled away, his grin was dazed.

“So,” he said, slightly breathless. “That was because of the French, huh?”

She laughed, tucking her head against his shoulder. “Guess you’ll have to keep practicing.”

Max tightened his hold on her. “Done.”

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: Max is learning French.

Emilie: ???

Emilie: Like YOUR Max? The one who has lived in Monaco forever and has survived just fine with English and Dutch?

Isabelle: Yes!!!

Isabelle: I found his iPad open with some French lesson on it, and when I asked, he said he lives in Monaco so it was about time he learned.

Emilie: That… does make sense.

Isabelle: But then I pressed him, and he admitted he’s actually doing it because of ME.

Emilie: Oh.

Emilie: Ohhhh.

Emilie: Isabelle. He’s in LOVE love.

Isabelle: I don’t even know what to do with this information.

Emilie: Girl, you kiss him stupid, that’s what.

Isabelle: I already did that!!!

Emilie: Good. Keep doing it.

Emilie: Good for him. He’s putting in the effort. He’s out here grinding on Duolingo just to impress.

Isabelle: That’s what’s shocking me the most… Nobody has ever done that for me before.

Emilie: Well, he’s not just anybody, is he?

Isabelle: No. He’s Max.

Emilie: Exactly. And Max Verstappen? He doesn’t do anything halfway.

***

Text Messages:Max Verstappen & Gianpiero Lambiase

Max: Need your help.

GP: If this is about strategy on a Monday at 11 in the evening, I’m hanging up.

Max: It’s not.

GP: Then what?

Max: Isabelle’s birthday is coming up. I need a gift.

GP: …You do realize just because I’m married, I’m not a fountain of romantic wisdom, right?

Max: Who else am I supposed to ask?

GP: Literally anyone else?

Max: You’re the only one I trust not to be an idiot about this.

GP: I feel like that was a compliment and an insult at the same time.

Max: Just help me.

GP: Alright, what are you thinking?

Max: Something personal. Not just perfume or a handbag.

GP: Already doing better than most.

Max: That’s a low bar.

GP: True. Jewelry? Something meaningful?

Max: I was thinking emeralds. Her birthstone. And it matches her eyes.

GP: …Wow. You’re actually in deep.

Max: Not the point.

GP: Sure, sure. Bracelet? Necklace? Something she can wear every day?

Max: Yeah. Probably a bracelet.

GP: Go for it. But just so you know, if you keep setting the bar this high, you’re making the rest of us look bad.

Max: Not my problem.

GP: Yeah, that tracks. Let me know what you pick.

Max: Will do. Thanks.

GP: Anytime. Just remember, I’m charging a consulting fee next time.

***

Text Conversation: Max Verstappen & Emilie Abadie

Max: This is Max. Isabelle’s Max.

Emilie: …Hello, Isabelle’s Max. To what do I owe the honor?

Max: I need help. It’s about Isabelle’s birthday.

Emilie: Go on.

Max: I need Isabelle’s wrist size.

Emilie: …What.

Max: Her wrist size.

Emilie: That’s it? No explanation? No context? Just casually asking for her wrist size like that’s a normal thing?

Max: Yes.

Emilie: I don’t trust you.

Max: That feels unnecessary.

Emilie: UNNECESSARY? MAX, I HAVE SPENT YEARS FIGHTING A LOSING BATTLE AGAINST HER FAMILY’S COMPLETE INABILITY TO GET HER A DECENT GIFT.

Max: …

Emilie: Charles once got her a Ferrari-branded umbrella. ”In case you ever come to a race and it rains.”

Max: …

Emilie: Arthur once got her a stuffed animal from an airport gift shop, because he nearly forgot entirely one year. Just straight-up forgot Belle had a birthday.

Max: …

Emilie: Lorenzo got her candle last year. A SINGLE. GENERIC. VANILLA. CANDLE. SHE DOESN’T EVEN LIKE VANILLLA; SHE GETS HEADACHES FROM IT.

Max: That’s actually embarrassing.

Emilie: Thank you. But I’m not done.

Max: Oh no.

Emilie: Their mother gave Isabelle a cookbook.

Max: That’s… not the worst?

Emilie: It was a diet cookbook.

Max: …

Max: What the hell.

Emilie: EXACTLY.

Max: And you’re saying this happens every year?

Emilie: EVERY. YEAR. Max, I have a Google Doc. I have an entire spreadsheet dedicated to “How to Make Sure Isabelle Actually Gets Something Nice.” I am fighting for my life out here.

Max: Not anymore.

Emilie: Wait.

Max: Attachment: Image of three emerald bracelets

Max: I’m thinking emeralds. It’s her birthstone. Matches her eyes.

Emilie:

Emilie:

Emilie: MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN.

Max: What.

Emilie: YOU ALREADY PICKED OUT OPTIONS???

Max: I was narrowing it down.

Emilie: NARROWING IT DOWN. LIKE A FUNCTIONING HUMAN MAN. LIKE SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY PUTS THOUGHT INTO GIFTS. LIKE SOMEONE WHO KNOWS HER FAVORITE GEMSTONE AND HOW IT MATCHES HER EYES.

Max: …Yes?

Emilie: DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW INFURIATING THIS IS FOR ME. I HAVE BEEN CARRYING THIS FAMILY.

Max: So you don’t know her wrist size?

Emilie: FIFTEEN CENTIMETERS. 

Max: Appreciate the help.

Emilie: Oh, and just for future reference—her ring size is 50.

Max: …

Max: Just for future reference?

Emilie: Just saying. You never know.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1GossipQueen: 🚨 UM. Just saw Max Verstappen in a jewelry store in Miami. He was looking at bracelets and asking about emeralds.

@/OversteerAndTears: Not me immediately googling “Max Verstappen girlfriend emerald jewelry” like I’m gonna find something.

@/SoftForMax: Max Verstappen. In a jewelry store. Asking about emeralds. Who is she.

@/F1GossipQueen: He was so serious about it too. Like asking the salesperson about different settings and cuts.

@/CheckeredHeart: SETTINGS??? DIFFERENT CUTS?!?!

@/F1GossipQueen: Yes!!! And he was like, “She likes emeralds, but I want something subtle.” Like WHO, MAX??

@/FastCarsAndDrama: “She likes emeralds.” SHE??? I’M GONNA THROW UP.

@/MaxIsMyGOAT: So we’re just casually learning that Max Verstappen not only has a girlfriend but knows her jewelry preferences well enough to mention them in a store???@/OrangeArmy82: Maybe it’s for his mom or sister. We don’t know it’s for a girlfriend.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ʜᴏᴛ ɢɪʀʟ ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪꜱᴛ: ᴍɪɴɢʏᴜ ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!mingyu x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: smut/angst/fluff

♡ Summary: A night out with your boyfriend takes an unexpected turn when his ex shows up at the same party with her heart set on getting him back. After catching her flirting with him you run off, deciding to continue your night without him but Mingyu's not letting you go so easily. He comes after you with full intentions of showing you that you're the only girl he wants and he'll do whatever it takes to prove it.

♡ Warnings: drinking, mingyu has a lil switch energy, dirty talk, some very wet oral sex (f receiving), mingyu loves your clit, tongue fucking, pussy drunk mingyu, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, spanking, scratching, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, pet names (baby, princess)

♡ A/N: Hello my darlings. This is the second entry or "track" in my Hot Girl Playlist series. This is the ✨masterlist✨ if you wanna check it out. As a chubby Mingyu biased babe I low-key had too much fun making this but, like, is that even possible? Anyways, I hope you have fun reading, my loves xoxoxo

“Bout 20 missed calls he faded. White boy wasted, Channing Tatum” - Megan thee Stallion

“Girl that man is blowing your phone up” your best friend smirks, squeezing in beside you to check herself out in the mirror. “What’d you lace your pussy with? Crack?” 

You almost snort laughing at her comment, “Shut the fuck up.”

“What?” she giggles, eyeing your phone as it vibrates on the edge of the sink, “It’s not my fault the boy’s addicted. You should answer him. You know how Min gets.”

Swiping a sultry nude gloss along the bow of your upper lip, you spare your phone a glance. It flashes a familiar name accompanied by a photo of you with the man in question. It’s a selfie from the last beach trip you took together. Your soft lips are pressed to his cheek and he’s making the cutest face, his nose scrunched up at the warmth your kiss sends rushing to his face. You vividly remember how happy the two of you were that day but right now happiness is the last thing that comes to mind when you think of him. 

Your phone stops ringing and for a moment there’s nothing. Only the muffled sound of music bleeding in from a party raging just beyond the door. And then another vibration. A text message.

Mingyu: Where are you? Did you leave? 

“He can get however he wants” you huff, shoving your phone into your purse, “He’ll get over it or he won’t. Either way.”

“Cold blooded” she teases, shaking her head, “Who knew you could be such a brat?”

A brat? You aren’t being a brat. Well, maybe a little but it’s not like you don’t have good reason to be. You know for a fact that she’d be livid if she were in your position. Five minutes. That’s how long you left Mingyu alone before his ex was all over him. You’ve never been ignorant to the possibility that he’d run into her again. They travel in the same social circles so it was bound to happen at some point. What you didn’t expect was for it to sting this much when it did. 

Your mind cruelly plays back the image of Mingyu’s ex cuddled up beside him on the couch, her fingertips at the ready to stroke his pecs through his shirt. To his credit, he did grab her by the wrist, saying something to her that you couldn’t quite make out. Whatever it was, it was clear from the look on her face that she didn’t like it, but it wasn’t until she noticed you approaching that she scurried back to where she came from.

He swore on his life that it was nothing. She’d come over flirting, he told her he had a girlfriend, and that was the end of it. But you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing him as to why she felt so comfortable coming over to begin with. Why was he just sitting there? Why didn’t he kick her clean across the room before she even managed to get that close?

Maybe that last one was a bit irrational but you were pissed. Making sense was the last thing on your mind. You walked off before he could answer, deciding that you weren’t gonna let this ruin your night out. If he wanted to stick around he had his own friends to hang with. You’d go off and do your own thing. You look way too good in this dress to let it go to waste. 

Mingyu started blowing your phone up almost immediately. Call after call with frantic texts sprinkled in between. You were positive that he must be searching every floor of this house to find you but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when you were busy downing shots and shaking ass on your bestie like she was your man. That distracted you from your emotions long enough but staring at your reflection in the mirror now you feel your gut twisting, a hint of sadness lingering behind your eyes. 

“I’m heading back out. You ready?” your best friend asks, heading for the door. 

You force a smile, pretending to dig through your purse for something. “I’ll be out in a sec. Meet me downstairs by the bar?”

“Fine but hurry up. I told those dudes we’d kick their asses in beer pong and I refuse to be proven wrong.”

“Because god forbid we ruin your beloved beer pong streak” you tease and she lovingly flips you off on her way out.

You keep that fake smile plastered on your face until you’re sure she’s gone and the second she is you deflate. You want so badly to keep up the facade of a girl unphased by anything but you’re phased. You’re phased so hard and nothing can change that. No amount of shots will make you forget how your heart sunk to the floor at the sight of them together.

You recall hearing that his ex was a model. She’d walked at New York Fashion Week once and made it into a few ads. By the looks of her you can believe it. It hurts to admit but the girl was gorgeous. What if, somewhere in the back of Mingyu’s mind, seeing her made him regret his decision? Your spiraling thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the bathroom door that forces you out of your own head. 

“Someone’s in here!” you shout but the door knob’s still turning. Thank god you aren’t on the toilet right now. “I said someone’s in here!”

“I heard you,” Mingyu says as he forces his way inside, slamming the door behind him.

He gives you no time to process, pinning you against the sink before you can react. Muscular arms cage you in on each side, as his dark eyes stare into yours, his gaze sharp enough to slice you to pieces.

“I’ve called you, like, 20 times. Why aren’t you answering?”

You sigh, in no mood to be interrogated, “I don’t know, Min. I haven’t really been checking my phone.”

Mingyu sucks his teeth, the veins in his arms flexing as his grip tightens around the edge of the sink. “That’s bullshit. I know you’ve been ignoring me.”

You can tell by the rosy tint of his cheeks that he’s been drinking more than he should. If you’re being honest, you have been too. The mature thing would be to wait until you’re both sober to have this conversation but that ship has sailed. 

“I haven’t been ignoring you, you’re just wasted and paranoid” you snap, seeing nothing wrong with a bit of gaslighting under the circumstances. 

“Wasted and paranoid?” he scoffs, “Projecting a little bit aren’t we?” 

“Oh, fuck you. Get off me.”

You place your hands on his chest with every intention to push him away but when he hangs his head, regret washing over his face, you can’t bring yourself to do it.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” he says through a curtain of silky dark hair, “I shouldn’t have said that. I just don’t want you to be mad at me.” 

“I don’t know how to not be mad, Min” you say, the sincerity in his voice tugging at your heartstrings, “I thought that part of your life was over.”

He rakes his fingers through his hair, meeting your eyes with a gaze that’s much softer now. “It is over. It has been for a long time. If I knew she was gonna be here we never would’ve come. That girl doesn’t mean anything to me. You’re the only one who does.”

When you turn your head away leaving a long span of silence where your words should be, he cups your cheek, forcing you to look at him. His thumb sweeps gently across your cheek and you melt like ice cream on a sunny day. You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol or the ex thing but you’re hit with a sudden wave of emotion, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I just don’t want you to regret choosing me” you confess, your voice breaking as you fight back tears. 

Mingyu can never stand to see you cry and it breaks him to know that you might, especially over something like this. “How can I regret choosing you when you aren’t optional? It’s not her or you. It’s just you. I love you. You have to know that.” You sniffle, a tear racing over the curve of your cheek. Mingyu wipes it away, the pad of his thumb soothing the spot where it fell.

“Tell me you know that” he pleads, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, “I love you. What do I have to do for you to believe me? You want me to get down on my knees?” 

“I—” you start to speak but he’s already dropping to his knees, looking up at you with the sweetest doe eyes. “Get up off the floor.”

Mingyu rests his chin against the softness of your thighs, delighting in their warmth. “No. Not until you believe me” he says, planting tender kisses where your thighs meet, “If my word’s not good enough maybe my actions can be.” 

You snake your fingers through his hair, gently tugging his head back but his lips are drawn to your body like magnets. They’re back on you in an instant, his tongue dragging across the surface of your skin as his lips find their way to the hem of your dress. You watch with bated breath as Mingyu grabs you by the hips, gathering the fabric of your dress between his fingers. He raises it little by little, each kiss inching him closer and closer to his final destination. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, your body tingling in all the places his lips meet. 

How demure of you to ask that question when you already know the answer. You know very well why he’s pushing this skin tight black dress up over your waist, his tongue teasing the silk trim of your panties. The emotions you’re feeling tonight are enough to give you whiplash. One minute you’re storming off, the next you’re on the verge of tears, and now your pussy’s wetter than a faucet. What’s a girl to do? 

Throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, Mingyu buries his face between your thighs, his nose grazing the spot where your stiff little clit has just begun to throb. He nuzzles against it, sending faint notes of pleasure rippling through you. 

He draws in a deep breath, salivating at your scent. “You always smell so fucking good, baby” he hums, stroking the growing wet spot in your panties. “Always so wet for me too.” 

Mingyu tucks your panties to the side and you release the lightest moan at the sensation of the cool air meeting your dripping core. At the same time your nipples tighten behind the fabric of your dress and the combination leaves you purring. Your boyfriend’s not faring any better. He was hard before he got down here, just the thought of tasting you had gotten him there, but seeing your pussy be so pretty and wet has his cock pulsing against the unforgiving material of his pants. 

If only you could feel how badly he wants you—how he craves you every day in more ways than one—maybe then you wouldn’t question his devotion. When you wouldn’t answer his calls he swore up and down that he wouldn’t just let you get away with it only to fold for you in under a minute. He’s quite literally on his knees for you but there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. 

“Aah, Min…” you whine when he plunges a finger into your warmth. 

Your purse tumbles to the ground, the contents spilling across the tile floor as you prop your elbows back up against the sink. A clumsy attempt at keeping your trembling body from giving out on you. It’s mind blowing how just one finger can feel this good. How such delicate strokes can make your walls clench so tightly. 

“You want more?” Mingyu asks, glancing up to you. He already has the next finger at the ready, ghosting your slit. You rock your hips towards that sickeningly handsome face of his and he sticks his tongue out, letting it glide over your clit. “Use your words, princess. I need you to say it. You want one more?” He introduces a third, stretching you open just enough to tease you with them. “Two more?” 

Your pussy’s aching, your walls fluttering wildly, doing everything to draw him in. You part your lips and the sexiest, neediest voice comes out. “Mmm, two more. Please, Min.”

Mingyu smiles, giving you exactly what you asked for. You were so polite with it. How could he ever deny you? It takes little effort on his part to guide the other two into you. Your pussy’s so eager that it sucks them right up, your juices saturating his fingers so that every movement makes a delicious squelching sound. It’d be a nice form of payback to toy with you for a while—make you beg for his attention after denying him of yours for the past hour—but that’d be torturing himself too. The taste of your clit lingers on his tongue and he knows that if he doesn’t have more he’ll go insane. 

His mouth crashes into you, his tongue hungrily lapping at your pussy like it’s the first thing he’s had all night. It may not be the first thing but it’s hands down the best. The satisfied groans he makes while circling your clit do more than enough to tell you so. It’s hard to keep yourself upright when he’s eating you out like this, his fingers drilling into you, stretching you so perfectly that your thigh’s quaking on his shoulder. You press your lips together, doing your best to keep quiet, but Mingyu will have none of that. He knows exactly where your sweet spot is and he hits it every time, destroying any chance you have at being quiet. 

“Don’t hold back, baby” he coos, pulling back to show you a face drenched in your juices, “I wanna hear all those pretty moans while you come on my face.” 

Slipping his fingers out of you, Mingyu grips your hips, lifting you onto the counter like it’s nothing. It stings when your plush ass hits the polished marble but there’s no time to process if there’s truly any pain. Mingyu’s hands are on your thighs, dragging you to the edge of the counter and spreading your legs wide. He dives back in, his tongue filling the space where his fingers once were. With one hand full of your soft belly, he uses the other to play with your clit, pressing down on the bud as his tongue rides the ridges of your walls.

You let your moans flow freely, all of the shyness leaving your body the moment his tongue enters it. You catch yourself feeling light headed and you know for sure this time that it isn’t the alcohol. Your hips stutter and Mingyu locks eyes with you, both of you knowing how dangerously close you are to your high. He moves faster—messier—slurping you down. You extend a shaky hand between your legs, lovingly petting his cheek as he pushes you to the brink. 

He locks his arms around your thighs, forcing you to stay in place while you squirt down his throat. Your body twists in his grip but it’s no match for his strength. You can’t run from this. He wants you to feel it and fuck do you feel it. Your vision goes blurry and you swear you go deaf for a minute. By the time you’re coming down you aren’t even sure which planet you’re on.

Mingyu takes his time standing up, getting his last few licks in as he rises. He’s so drunk off of your pussy that the room’s spinning a bit when he comes up. He clings to the counter for support, his lips glistening with your cum as he stands over you looking like he wants more. Sitting up, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in for a sloppy, breathless kiss that tastes entirely of you. 

“You said you love me, Min?” you whisper between his lips. You sneak a hand between the two of you, rolling your palm against his bulge. 

Mingyu nods, moaning as he leans into your touch, “Mmhmm, love you so much.”

Popping the button on his jeans open, you slide the zipper down, dipping a hand into his boxers to stroke his length. “Then fuck me like you do.”

Your words are like gasoline to a flame that’s been raging inside of him since he planted that first kiss on your thigh. You’ve barely even finished your sentence when he’s sliding you off the counter, the back of your dress bunched up in his hand as he bends you over the sink. 

“Ooh, someone’s excited” you giggle, squealing as he snatches your panties down hard enough to make them rip. “I hope you know you’re buying me new ones.” 

You poke your ass out and he gives it a harsh slap just to watch it jiggle. “Keep being this cute and I’ll buy you whatever you want.” 

“In that case, I did see some shoes I liked the other day and…aaah” 

Mingyu rubs the tip of his cock against your entrance and you’re dizzier than you've ever been. He’s not even in yet, just barely stretching you open, but you’re so sensitive from your last orgasm that a light breeze could make you shiver.

Mingyu’s eyes flit back and forth between two visions he wishes he could burn into his brain. First there’s the reflection of you in the mirror, so pretty your bottom lip wedged between your teeth, hips rocking as he presses into you. And then there’s that glorious space between your legs, so creamy and warm, trickling juices with every inch it’s fed. The whimper that escapes him when he bottoms out makes you clamp down on him, his cock twitching in your core, his arousal slicking your walls. 

Grabbing your ass cheeks, he spreads you open, stretching you wider. “You know who this cock belongs to. Don’t you, baby?” 

“I…I don’t know” you tease, “Is it mine?” 

Mingyu draws back a bit, thrusting into you so that your lush breasts bounce from the impact. “You tell me.” He pulls back again, his hips snapping into you even rougher. “Does it feel like it’s yours?”

“Aah, fuck, yes it’s mine” you moan, heels scraping against the tile as your back arches.

He rewards a good answer with an increase in pace, each stroke faster than the last. If Mingyu had to compare being inside you to any feeling in the world he wouldn’t be able to do it. His brain can’t grasp a single thing on this planet that can even come close to this. You could stimulate all his senses at one time, flood them with every pleasure known to man, and it’d still be nothing compared to you.

In the midst of your own bliss you catch glimpses of him behind you, fucking you like it’s all he was ever made for. He’s ready to unravel over you and the knowledge of what you’re doing to him only heightens what you feel. 

“Love you, Min” you whisper back at him, properly returning his affection for the first time tonight. You say it like you mean it. Your insecurities wilting away to leave nothing but pure admiration for the man who loves you. 

It hits Mingyu hard, the pressure inside of him reaching its peak. He clenches his teeth, nails scraping along the swollen flesh of your ass. He’s holding back so hard that it hurts, refusing to let himself reach his high before you do. 

Reaching behind you, you gently stroke the back of his hand, “Come for me, mmph, wanna feel you.” 

Your voice rings in his ears, making him lose any shred of sanity he had left. Hot ropes of cum spurt from the head of his cock, hitting you right where it needs to and you’re falling apart right along with him. Mingyu doesn’t let up on you, the juices spilling from your walls only making him want you more. No matter how messy—how sticky, how wet—he wants every bit of you until there’s nothing left. 

“Fuck, I think I’m dying” he gasps, his heart pounding as he peels himself away from you. He’s only halfway through fixing his pants when his balance gives out and he slumps to the floor. 

You turn around to find him sitting there, your own limbs barely keeping you up. “You’re not dying. You’re just dehydrated. Want some water?”

Lugging yourself over to him, you collapse onto his lap and he doesn’t hesitate to take you into his arms. You rest your head on his shoulder and he takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. 

“No thank you. I already have what I want” he smiles, kissing your inner wrist. 

You want to scold him—tell him that no, actually he does need some water—but you let it go. Choosing instead to enjoy the warmth of being in his arms as his kisses make their way from your wrist to your fingertips. Mingyu worships you, honestly and truly, and it’s about time you just let him. 

[luvbabydoll]

more to love — simon “ghost” riley

simon “ghost” riley x chubby!fem!reader

the gym had never been your favorite place.

it was hot, crowded, and full of people who made it look easy—like lifting weights and running on treadmills was second nature. meanwhile, you were here, struggling with a machine that looked like it was built for torture rather than exercise.

you adjusted the seat, tried to grab the handles, then frowned when they felt too far away.

frustration bubbled up in your chest. maybe you were just doing it wrong. maybe you shouldn’t even be here.

“need a hand, love?”

the deep, accented voice startled you. you turned—and immediately regretted it.

because holy shit.

the man standing behind you was massive. tall, broad-shouldered, built like he could snap the machine in half with one hand. he was dressed in all black, a hoodie pulled up over his head, a skull mask covering the lower half of his face. and yet, even with all that, his presence alone made heat crawl up your neck.

“i—uh—” words? gone. brain? empty.

his eyes flicked down to the machine, then back to you.

“you’re set too far back.” his voice was gruff, like he wasn’t used to talking much. “lemme show you.”

before you could protest, he reached past you, adjusting the seat effortlessly. his arm barely grazed yours, but it was enough to make you hyper-aware of how close he was.

“try now.”

you swallowed hard, nodding, trying to ignore how warm your face felt as you reached for the handles again. this time, it fit better.

“better?”

you nodded again. “y-yeah, thanks.”

he huffed, stepping back, arms crossing over his chest. “good. no point in doin’ it if you’re just gonna hurt yourself.”

at first, that was all it was. he’d spot you now and then, offering the occasional correction, always watching with that unreadable gaze. sometimes, if you did something right, he’d murmur a quiet "good girl," and it sent a shiver down your spine every time.

but then, he started noticing things.

the way your shirt rode up when you stretched, the peek of soft skin at your waist. the way your thighs pressed together when you sat down to catch your breath. the way you avoided looking in the mirror, adjusting your clothes like you were trying to hide yourself.

and it pissed him off.

because, fuck, how did you not see what he saw?

one day, you were tugging at your shirt again, mumbling something under your breath as you glared at your reflection.

ghost heard it.

“quit that.”

you froze, looking up at him, wide-eyed.

he stepped closer, his voice dropping low. dangerous. “ain’t gonna stand here and watch you tear yourself apart. not when you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever laid eyes on.”

your breath hitched. “i—”

but he didn’t let you finish. he grabbed your wrist, tugging you toward the locker room—empty, because it was late—and backed you against the wall.

“y’know what i see when i look at you?” his gloved hand trailed down, fingers brushing over your belly, gripping at the soft flesh with something close to reverence. “i see somethin’ perfect.”

then his mask was up just enough for you to see his mouth, and before you could process it, he was biting.

your belly. your thighs. your love handles. he had his hands on you, all over you, pressing you against the wall as he nipped, kissed, worshiped every inch of soft skin he could reach. he growled between bites, “so fuckin’ soft,” and, ‘could spend all night right here.”

and when you tried to protest, tried to tell him you weren’t—

he growled. actually growled, sinking his teeth into your thigh before pulling back, lips curling into something almost smug.

“don’t wanna hear another word about it,” he muttered. then, hoisted you up—like it was nothing—and carried you over to the bench.

“now. y’gonna let me sit you on my lap, or you gonna make me take you home first?”

[kiwriteswords]

She Gets the Job Done [Aaron Hotchner x Bratty!Reader]

Masterlist|| Ao3||Word Count: >2k|| AN: IF YALL KNOW ME YOU KNOW I DONT LOVE WRITING SMUT. BUT I'M OVULATING AND BEEN THINKING A LITTLE TOO HARD ABOUT HOTCH. Tags/Warnings: SMUT! MDNI! NSFW!! 18+, female reader, established relationship, bau!reader, pwp, p in v smut, no protection, no talk about protecting (just assume they've got this established!), fingering, brat tamer!Hotch, possessive!hotch, brat!reader, like no "after" scene really because I did not feel like it--lol. office sex!!, seducing an unsub in an interrogation, reader has hair Summary: When you decide to use an Unsub's weakness of being seduced by women to your advantage, it really pisses your boyfriend off.

Hotch’s jaw was tight, muscles strained beneath clenched teeth as he stood rigidly behind the one-way glass. The low hum of the fluorescent lights overhead seemed overly loud in the silent observation room, amplifying the palpable tension that had settled thickly in the air. 

Aaron Hotchner was rarely a man to lose his cool, but right now, he felt like a tightly coiled spring on the verge of snapping.

Through the glass, he watched you closely, noticing the slight, intentional sway of your hips as you circled the interrogation table. 

The unsub's eyes were fixated on you, tracking your every movement hungrily, the intensity in his gaze revolting yet exactly what you intended. 

You had unbuttoned your blouse just enough to draw attention, something that had not gone unnoticed by anyone on the team. 

Certainly not by Hotch.

The way your skirt rose up just a little too high. Or how you pressed your arms closer together, so your breasts stood right in the line of sight for the unsub. Your hair touseled in a way that only Hotch had seen--

In a way where you looked fulled fucked. 

You leaned forward slowly, palms flat against the cool metal surface, eyes locked onto the unsubs with a sultry, playful challenge. 

"Come on," you murmured, voice dripping honey, the seductive undertone unmistakable. "Don't you want to impress me? It'd be our little secret."

Hotch felt his chest tighten, his knuckles white as he squeezed his hands into fists. Rossi glanced sideways, clearing his throat uncomfortably, sensing the impending eruption.

"Hotch," Rossi began cautiously, "maybe we should—"

"No," Hotch cut him off sharply, eyes never leaving your form. He felt a fierce surge of possessiveness clawing at his throat, anger burning hot in his veins. He had agreed reluctantly to your tactic, trusting you implicitly, but this—

This was beyond the pale.

You laughed softly, a delicate sound that danced dangerously around the unsub. The man visibly shivered, eyes wide with anticipation, lips parted in silent surrender. "I'll tell you," the unsub breathed shakily, eyes greedily drinking in your appearance. "But what do I get in return?"

You tilted your head, gaze smoldering beneath lowered lashes. "You tell me first," you purred, leaning closer, deliberately letting your hair brush across his trembling fingers. 

Hotch’s heart hammered violently in his chest, his blood roaring in his ears as the unsub hungrily eyed you.

"He's going to break," Reid muttered quietly, visibly uneasy as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Hotch didn't respond. 

He couldn’t. 

His entire being was transfixed, paralyzed between the overwhelming urge to storm into the interrogation room and drag you away, and the knowledge that your tactics were working.

The unsub exhaled roughly, eyes glazed with desperation. "Fine," he gasped, chest heaving. "The body's behind the old warehouse on Elm—buried shallow."

A cruel smirk curled at the corners of your lips, eyes suddenly cold as you pulled away, straightening your posture and buttoning your blouse calmly as if nothing had transpired. 

"Thanks for the cooperation," you said coolly, every trace of seduction vanishing instantly.

Hotch felt a wave of relief, immediately drowned by a surge of anger-- 

Raw and primal. 

He turned sharply, stalking out of the observation room without a word. 

The sound of his shoes pounding harshly against the linoleum matched the racing of his heart.

Moments later, you stepped confidently from the interrogation room, smug satisfaction evident on your face until you caught sight of Hotch’s furious gaze pinned firmly upon you from down the hall. The arrogant smirk faltered briefly, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty as you squared your shoulders and approached him.

"My office. Now." His voice was dangerously soft, controlled with a rigid effort that barely concealed his simmering rage.

You lifted your chin defiantly, a hint of mischief playing in your eyes even now. "Is there a problem, Agent Hotchner?"

Hotch moved closer, invading your space, his presence dominating and overwhelming. His voice dropped lower, vibrating with intensity. "You know exactly what the problem is."

He turned sharply, leaving you standing in the hall, the air between you charged and crackling dangerously as he stalked toward his office, knowing you’d follow, knowing the line had just been irrevocably crossed.

Hotch’s jaw remained tightly set, his anger simmering beneath a mask of forced calm as he stalked into his office, the door closing behind him with a sharp click. 

He turned, arms crossed rigidly over his chest, watching you enter a moment later, defiance radiating from your posture. You stood before him, eyes flashing with an audacious mix of arrogance and curiosity, clearly unfazed by his obvious displeasure.

He moved forward deliberately, narrowing the distance until you were forced to tilt your chin upward to maintain eye contact. 

The air around you both crackled with charged intensity, tension thick enough to choke on. "Do you have any idea how reckless that was?" His voice was low, edged with barely restrained fury.

You tilted your head slightly, eyes dancing mischievously as you shrugged casually, playing off his anger. "I got results, didn't I? Isn’t that what matters most?"

Hotch leaned closer, his eyes dark and stormy. "What matters most is that you stay safe and professional. You compromised yourself—and us."

"I handled it," you replied boldly, leaning into him ever so slightly, the provocative gleam in your eyes unmistakable. "Maybe you're just jealous."

Hotch inhaled sharply, the vein in his neck visibly pulsing as he fought for control. His voice dropped lower, becoming dangerously quiet. "Jealouus? You deliberately let that monster think he had a chance with you."

You laughed softly, a wicked, bratty sound that tugged at something primal deep within him. Your voice dripped honeyed sarcasm, pushing every button he had. "Maybe you're just upset because he liked what he saw. Jealous someone else enjoyed the show?"

Hotch snapped, his large hand darting out swiftly to grip your waist, pulling you flush against his body with a force that drew a startled gasp from your lips. He bent down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered harshly, voice trembling with intensity, "Say that again. I dare you."

You smirked, eyes blazing defiantly as you pressed closer, your voice dropping into a taunting whisper that brushed his skin like a forbidden caress. "Why don't you bend me over your desk and show me who I belong to?

He felt something snap inside him at your words, a powerful surge of possessiveness and raw desire flooding through his veins. He spun you around abruptly, pinning you against the edge of his desk, chest pressing firmly against your back, one strong arm holding your hips firmly in place. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his voice ragged and rough. "You think you can provoke me without consequences?"

Your breath hitched audibly, the arrogance melting into something softer, breathless anticipation trembling in your voice. "Maybe I like seeing how far I can push you."

Hotch's grip tightened possessively, voice thick with barely contained passion. "Then prepare yourself," he growled lowly, his control unraveling as he gave in to the powerful tension that had ignited between you both, fully intent on reminding you exactly who you belonged to.

His hands quickly found the edge of your skirt, pulling it up roughly to your waist. He felt your body shiver beneath his touch, your breathing quickening as he leaned closer, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss against your neck. 

His voice was a husky murmur, every word laced with possessive intensity. "You're mine. Never forget that."

You whimpered softly, leaning back into his touch, all traces of defiance giving way to desperate need. His hand slipped down your hips, fingers teasingly brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. 

You arched against him instinctively, desperate for more--

The tension between you reaching an explosive peak.

Hotch groaned lowly against your skin, guiding you firmly into position against his desk, one hand gripping your hip possessively while the other reached to loosen his belt impatiently. 

Your breath came in ragged gasps--

Anticipation nearly unbearable as he pressed himself against you, his voice commanding and darkly seductive as he whispered roughly, "I'll make sure you never doubt again who you belong to."

Had he locked the door? He wasn’t sure. But one moment he was pulling you into his office--

Filled with rage. Anger. Honestly, jealousy--

And now, he was stroking himself, pulling your lace panties to the side, finding you wet and ready after this little episode. 

He knew you liked to poke his buttons--

He knew this. 

He knew being a brat--

Being his brat…turned you on.

But what turned you on more was his visual reaction. And your actions sure as hell lead to a reaction from him.

He never thought of himself as a reactive man. His proud ability to remain stoic within even some of the most trying situations was a strength of his. But you? You with your whits and your body and your pure…pure seduction without even so much trying--

It had him whipped. Whipped in a way he couldn’t explain. 

Whipped in a way that has him fisting his cock with one hand and parting your wet, ready folds with the other. He slid his index finger in you--

Stretching you for him. The tight, wet, warm heat closed around the length of his finger. Practically sucking him in. 

He felt your hips stutter against his wrist.

Needy, needy girl, he thought. 

You mumbled something--

He thought it might be his name, but his heartbeat thud so heavily within his ears, he’s not sure what you said, if anything at all. 

It could have just been a whimper--

A sound he’d come to love so much.

Sure, he’d love you not always having to be such a defiant brat to get here. Yet, here you were. And as he stroked himself. Once. Twice. Three times more, he wasn’t complaining.

Not really. 

Removing his finger from you, he reached around to where your face layed pressed against the cool wooden desk. Papers sprawled out. Case files and budget reports mixed around. 

A clerical mess.

A human resource disaster. 

But pure nirvana to him as you knew to open your lips and taste yourself off his finger. 

Watching that, he bit back a groan as he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock. Up and down, teasing you. He planned to tease and use you. 

Just in the way you did with him today.

He entered you with a deep, assertive thrust, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. Hotch’s movements were powerful and controlled, every stroke filled with possessive intent. 

His hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back gently to expose your neck fully to his hot, demanding mouth. 

Every touch, every thrust, reinforced the undeniable truth of his words—

You belonged to him.

"Say it," he demanded roughly, breath warm against your skin, his pace relentless and passionate. "Tell me who you belong to."

"You," you breathed out shakily, your voice breaking under the weight of overwhelming pleasure. "Only you, Aaron."

"Good girl," he growled approvingly, his grip tightening as his movements quickened, driving you both toward a powerful climax, sealing his claim unmistakably and completely.

As the intensity peaked, your body trembled against his, both of you gasping as waves of pleasure crashedover you. Hotch held you tightly as you both gradually came down from the euphoric high, pressing gentle kisses against your shoulder, murmuring soothing words against your skin.

Slowly, he withdrew, carefully adjusting, reaching for a tissue--

Cleaning you with reverence and respect, then fixing your clothes with unexpected tenderness. 

He turned you gently, cupping your face in his hands, eyes filled with warmth and a fierce protectiveness. "Never again," he whispered softly, a plea and promise intertwined. "You mean too much to me."

You met his gaze, your defiance fully melted into sincerity and affection, nodding softly as you leaned into his gentle kiss, knowing you'd finally found your boundaries—

And exactly where you belonged.

[quxxrpearl]

Jon knew something was wrong. Something was missing. He couldn't really grasp what it was, but he much probably could point his finger at the area where things went wrong. It was just there: under his heart, near his stomach, cozzed up against his liver.

He tasted death. That much most of his men whispered, so did the Free Folk. They called him a God. Other of "The undead," another awkward title that he had to withstand while his presence was announced. But when asked, he couldn't really say what the Stranger felt like. It was just like a dream, like he was a wolf running free alongside The Wall, nothing much, really. And then he was back, quick and easy.

And still, he came back wrong. His men made his hand tremble under his thick gloves when they spoke, and he flinched ever so slightly when heavy hands patted his shoulders. It worried him that they would notice, sniff it on him, the hesitation, the shivers, the frowned eyebrows, the unevenness in his breath.

Tormund noticed, Jon suspected. The man kissed-by-fire always looked at him carefully, as if waiting he would snap and hold his sword against the same men that made him shake. "Nothing is more dangerous than an animal afraid of death with nowhere to run", Tormund mumbled the other night, while they both were staring at the fire. Then Jon knew that his friend smelled the wrongness in him.

That wrongness only got a name when Sansa showed up at the Night's Watch, small and dirty, afraid and cold. Hugging her was a warm balm that soothed his stab wounds, lessing the throbbing, taming the ache, licking his wound clean, and calm. It took him only a day to feel restless again because since his men turned their back on him, what could they do to his poor Sansa? His younger sister who already suffered so much?

It was the restless night, Sansa's first night, where Jon didn't lock himself up in his chambers, instead kept himself up all night, pacing around his office, clutching Longclaw's pommel, the wolf head rough against his fingers, nervously wondering about Sansa's safety. About her smile, sweet rose cheeks, blue eyes, sharp lines, soft kissed-by-fire hair, her life, about how she could lose it at any given time. How Jon could go to her chambers tomorrow morning and find a corpse.

What would he do then? Rage against his men? Point fingers? Shower them with Rage and Blood? Give them sentences and executions? Ride, horseback, south and kill the Boltons, and then go to King's Landing and rampage until he got himself killed? He knew nothing good would come from it, but if something came to happen to Sansa, then wouldn't his fury be justified?

The Stranger was as twisted as any other Seven, and Jon feared it would come to Sansa to visit and torment her. Would hurt and make her suffer, leave that emptiness with her all the same as it did to him.

It was that night, Sansa's first night at the Watch, that he stomped his feet all the way to her chambers, sneaking from Brienne's tired vigil, restless until he saw Sansa's peaceful resting face, that his heart settled down understanding that she was safe.

It was that night that he finally named what came back wrong with him: he came back afraid.

Afraid of his loved ones losing their lives, since life was a fragile and fleeting thing.

Jon Snow came back so afraid that he would prefer to throw himself to Ramsay's hounds and Daenerys' dragons than take the risk of his lady losing her life or her home and realm.

Jon came back afraid for the lives of others. For Sansa's.

"came back wrong" what about Came Back Afraid. You used to be brave. Too brave maybe, defying the odds at every turn, a fighter, cocky, playing with fire, first to throw yourself at the enemy. Until one day it all caught up to you. You came back, somehow, but now you know all too intimately how it feels to lose, to die, to be destroyed. Now you flinch and freeze and cower at the slightest provocation. Who even are you now if you can't be brave? The grave may have let you go, but the mortal fear still grips you tighter than ever.

[issues4him]

Has blue collar rafe & the oc experienced any jealousy problems? Men staring at the oc a little too long, women fawning over rafe while theyre out or even when he’s at work? Has there ever been a situation where they overheard someone talking about the other in a probative way while they were out ? If so, how do they go about it &/or react in that moment ?

oh for sure!! 100% they deal with it. i mean, you don’t marry a walking wet dream like rafe—built, tan, protective, good with his hands, good with his mouth, loves his family—and not have women throw themselves at him. and you’re the gorgeous stay-at-home wife with the soft smile, and a body that still turns heads even with three kids on your hip. so, yeah, men notice.

and it’s never a trust issue—rafe and his girl are solid. but that doesn’t mean jealousy doesn’t flare. like at work, women flirt with rafe constantly. one time a client giggled too loud, touched his arm too long, and made some bold little comment about what it must be like to “come home to that.”

and sweet rafe just smirked, nodded, and went, “not sure what you’re picturing, ma’am—my wife’s the only one who gets to see that…now what finish did you want on these cabinets?” cold & professional. and he always tells you later, grinning and shaking his head like, “people really don’t know i’m yours, huh?”

but in public? about YOU? that’s when it gets heated.

one night at the county fair, y’all were walking hand in hand when some guy—clearly drunk—whistled low at you and muttered something to his buddy. it was just loud enough for rafe to hear, “damn, i’d knock her up too if she looked like that.”

ohhh baby. rafe stopped walking. hand tightened around yours, slow breath through his nose. he turned just enough to meet the guy’s eyes and said—loud enough for everyone to hear, “that’s my wife you’re talkin’ about. you wanna try that line again with a mouth full of gravel?”

you tugged him along before it got worse, and rafe went—still stiff, still breathing heavy—but didn’t fight you on it. because you mattered more.

and one time you heard two women at the grocery store talking about rafe while he was in the checkout line—dirty things. talking about his hands, what they’d let him do, wondering what you must be like to “keep a man like that satisfied.”

you didn’t make a scene. didn’t say a word. but when you got home, you straddled rafe on the couch, leaned in close, and whispered, “apparently your hands are famous, babe.” you huffed, already aggressively undoing his belt.

he raised a brow, moving his hands out of the way of yours. “oh yeah?”

you smirked. “mmhm. but lucky for me, only i get to ride that reputation.”

[mrspiastri]

✩ bandaged and bruised 🩹

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

cw: mentions of blood, violence, etc.

wc: 3.2k words

an: wrote this like 2 weeks ago, and yes this is completely indulgent i wrote this for me and coincidentally you all get to read it <3

When Oscar told Y/N he was going out, she didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t often he got to meet up with his friends, and they had been eager to take him out for a couple of drinks.

As soon as he left, she changed into her favorite pyjamas; the soft, oversized ones covered in little Snoopy heads, slathered on her salicylic acid face mask, and tied her hair into two loose braids. Nothing was going to stop her from having the ultimate night of relaxation.

To be fair, Oscar had asked if she wanted to come along, but she had absolutely no interest. Going bar hopping on a weekend did nothing for her, and she much preferred spending her evening curled up on the couch, binge-watching Sex and the City while their cat, Sylvia, snoozed in her lap.

She was halfway through her third episode of season four, having just paused the TV to reheat some leftover pizza from lunch, when the doorbell rang.

She groaned, taking another bite. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Dragging herself to the door, she peeked through the eyehole. The figure on the other side was shadowed, but she could tell it was a man. Immediately, every nerve in her body went on high alert.

“Who is it?” she called through the intercom, her voice cautious.

“It’s me, you goose.”

She frowned. “Who’s me?”

A heavy sigh. “It’s Oscar. Your boyfriend.”

Oh right. Her boyfriend. The very boyfriend who was supposed to be out right now, doing whatever it was that boys did for fun. Instead, he was here, rudely disrupting her peaceful evening.

He was so lucky she liked him.

She unlocked the door, swinging it open. “Why didn’t you just use your keys, disturbing—OH MY GOD!”

The sight in front of her nearly made her fall down.

🪻🪻🪻

Oscar looked like he had been through it.

His right arm was bleeding, a deep gash cutting through the skin. His jeans were ripped, his knees scraped raw. A small cut sat just below his left eye, on the apple of his cheek. His hair was a mess, tousled in a way that wasn’t even remotely cute, and his usually composed expression was replaced with something between exhaustion and pain.

“WHAT HAPPENED?” Y/N shrieked, yanking him inside as she noticed the way he hobbled through the doorway.

Oscar sighed as he lowered himself onto the couch, wincing slightly. “Had a bit of a tussle with this one bloke,” he muttered, waving his good hand dismissively. “No big deal.”

"NO BIG DEAL?!" she repeated, eyes practically bulging out of her head. "YOU LOOK LIKE YOU FELL OFF A MOVING TRAIN!”

She scrambled to find the first aid kit, muttering to herself as she dug through the cabinets.

Sylvia, now wide awake from all the noise, flicked her tail in irritation before giving Oscar a pointed glare. With the level of disdain only a cat could manage, she stretched, harrumphed, and strutted off to find a quieter place to sleep.

Oscar watched her go, sighing dramatically. “Once again, my own cat betrays me.”

He immediately regretted the action, his body protesting the movement with a sharp pang of pain.

Y/N rushed back into the room, first aid kit in hand, her face set in determination.

“Alright,” she huffed, setting the kit down on the coffee table. “Off with the shirt.”

Oscar groaned as he leaned back against the couch, his head tipping against the cushion. “At least buy me dinner first,” he quipped, shooting Y/N a tired smirk despite looking like he had just crawled out of a bar fight.

Y/N glared at him, yanking open the first aid kit with a little too much force. “Oscar, shut up,” she snapped, pressing a hand to his chest to keep him still as she assessed the damage. “You’re literally bleeding all over our couch.”

Oscar winced, glancing down at himself like he was only just realizing how much of a mess he was. His right arm had the worst of it, a deep gash trailing down his forearm, but his ribs were bruised, his jeans torn at the knees, and there was a cut sitting just under his left eye. He looked wrecked.

Y/N grabbed the antiseptic, soaking a cotton pad. Oscar groaned as she pressed the antiseptic-soaked cotton pad firmly against his wound, his jaw clenching as a sharp sting shot through his arm.

“Bloody hell babe, go easy, would ya?” he hissed, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.

Y/N, entirely unimpressed, pressed harder. “Go easy? Go easy?” she repeated, eyes narrowing. “You show up at our door looking like this, bleeding, bruised, barely able to walk, and you want me to go easy?”

Oscar winced, his good hand coming up in surrender. “Alright, alright, message received.”

She exhaled sharply, clearly holding back from launching into a full-blown rant as she carefully cleaned the cut on his cheek. He tilted his head slightly, making it easier for her, but after a moment, she sighed in frustration.

“This isn’t working,” she muttered.

Before Oscar could ask what she meant, she grabbed his shoulders and shifted, settling onto his lap so she could get a better angle.

His hands instinctively came up to steady her, fingers gripping her thighs as she adjusted herself, straddling him without a second thought.

Well. She didn’t give it a second thought.

Oscar, on the other hand, definitely did.

Y/N pretended not to notice. Pretended not to feel the way his grip tightened slightly. Pretended not to hear the way his breath hitched for just a fraction of a second before he exhaled through his nose.

Instead, she kept her focus on his face, tilting it gently with her free hand before dabbing at the cut again.

“How the hell did this even happen?” she demanded.

Oscar blinked, his brain still catching up with the fact that his very attractive and very angry girlfriend was now seated firmly on his lap, her thighs warm beneath his hands.

He cleared his throat. “Saw some dickhead hassling a girl outside the pub.”

Y/N’s hand paused for a split second before continuing.

Oscar felt her tense slightly, but she didn’t say anything, just pressed the antiseptic a little more firmly than necessary.

“Shit!” he jerked, sucking in a sharp breath. “Warn me next time, Jesus—”

Y/N was completely unimpressed. “Keep talking.”

Oscar exhaled through his nose, trying to focus. “So, yeah, this guy was a proper maggot, I’m talking absolutely off his face and he was getting real weird with this girl. Like, full-on grabbing her when she was trying to walk away. So I told him to rack off.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, pressing the pad against another cut with no warning.

Oscar hissed. “Babe—!”

“Go on,” she said, her voice deceptively calm.

Oscar sighed. “And then he gets all stroppy, the fucking cunt.”

Y/N blinked. “All what?”

“Stroppy.”

She stared. “Oscar, I can’t understand you when you speak full Aussie.”

Oscar huffed. “Stroppy, babe. Like annoyed, pissed. Anyway, he tries to swing at me, and obviously, I wasn’t just gonna stand there, so I dodged it, but then his mates jumped in too, and then—”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “His mates jumped in?”

“Yeah.” Oscar scratched the back of his head sheepishly, his grip on her thighs tightening slightly. “I mean, it wasn’t, like, a full-on punch-on, but there were a few swings, and—”

“A few swings?” Y/N repeated, horrified.

Oscar gave her a look, lips twitching. “You’re just repeating everything I’m saying now.”

“Because I literally don’t understand half of it!” she threw her hands up. “I swear, you need subtitles when you get like this.”

Oscar smirked, his thumbs rubbing absentminded circles into her thighs. “You love it.”

She did not react. Would not react.

“No,” she deadpanned, grabbing a fresh bandage. “What I love is my boyfriend not getting into fights with drunk idiots outside pubs.”

Oscar hummed, watching her work. “You also love me in a bloodied-up t-shirt.”

Y/N shot him a glare before taping the bandage down with a little too much force.

Oscar winced, then had the audacity to smirk. “Ow, babe. I know you love me all shirtless, but come on.

Y/N swore she saw red. She out a long, slow breath through her nose as she soaked another cotton pad in antiseptic.

“I cannot believe you,” she muttered, shaking her head as she dabbed at the cut on Oscar’s cheek.

Oscar sucked in a sharp breath, scrunching his nose. “Babe, warning—”

She ignored him, pressing the pad firmly to his skin. “You really thought it was a good idea to go up against a bunch of drunk guys outside a pub? What, were you just itching for a fight?”

Oscar tilted his head, watching her carefully. “What was I supposed to do? Just walk away?”

“Yes!” Y/N snapped, reaching for a fresh bandage. “That’s exactly what you were supposed to do!”

Oscar scoffed. “Not a chance.”

She let out a groan, rolling her eyes as she gently smoothed the bandage over his cheek. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

Oscar smirked. “You should’ve seen the other guys.”

Y/N froze, staring at him in disbelief. “Are you proud of yourself?”

Oscar shrugged, wincing when the movement tugged at his bruised ribs. “Not proud, per se—but, I mean, I held my own.”

Y/N sat back, gripping the first aid kit like she was two seconds away from throwing it at his thick head. “You got jumped, Oscar! Jumped! How exactly is that holding your own?”

“Okay, technically—” he started, and Y/N immediately cut him off.

“No. I don’t want to hear it.”

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. “I just, I couldn’t walk away, babe. That guy was being a prick. I wasn’t about to let him get away with that. Who knows. if I hadn’t stepped in the girl could’ve been in real trouble.”

Y/N stayed silent at that, thinking the situation through. Being a woman herself, she knew how scared that girl might’ve felt in that moment.

“I’d have done that for anyone getting harassed, but in that moment it felt like I’d be even more of an ass if I didn’t help that poor girl.” Oscar firmly said, finally getting serious for the first time that night.

“Could you imagine being in a similar position? And people walking by but nobody helping you? It’s probably how she felt before I stepped in. So I won’t be made to feel guilty about it.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty for it, love, you did a noble thing. But you can’t just fight people! They already managed to nick you!”

She swallowed, her frustration shifting into something else entirely, something that felt a lot like fear. Her hands trembled as she reached for his arm, carefully inspecting the gash running down his forearm.

He could’ve been seriously hurt.

He was seriously hurt.

And it hit her all at once, just how much she hated seeing him like this, all bruised and bloodied, because he felt the need to stand up for someone else.

“Jesus, Os,” she whispered, her voice small now. “What if they’d had a gun? What if—”

Oscar softened instantly, his teasing demeanor fading. “Hey,” he murmured, reaching for her wrist with his good hand. “I’m okay, Goose. Just a couple scrapes. Nothing I haven’t had before.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, trying to hold back the lump forming in her throat. “That’s not the point.”

Oscar’s thumb traced soothing circles against her skin. “I know.”

She huffed, blinking rapidly as she focused on cleaning the gash on his arm. “You can’t just throw yourself into fights, Oscar. What if someone recorded it? It’d be in the headlines tomorrow, “Formula 1 Star Oscar Piastri Caught Beating Up Group Of Drunk Men!”

Oscar tried to interrupt, but she was on a rampage.

“This is completely reckless. Not to mention you tried taking all of them on your own! I swear, one day—“

Oscar lifted his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “One day what?”

Y/N swallowed hard, her fingers trembling as she finished bandaging his arm. She didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer.

Oscar exhaled, tilting his head as he studied her. “You were worried about me.”

Y/N scoffed, sitting back. “Obviously.”

His lips quirked. “Like, really worried.”

“Shut up.”

Oscar grinned, but it was softer now, warmer. “I mean, I like it,” he admitted, tugging her closer. “It’s cute.”

Y/N let out a long breath, glaring at him even as she allowed herself to lean into his touch. “Next time, just call the cops instead of getting yourself beat up.”

Oscar smirked, squeezing her hand. “Deal.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “I mean it, Oscar.”

“I know, babe.” He lifted her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I know.”

🪻🪻🪻

Oscar had been quiet for a few minutes, curled up against her, his breathing even and steady. Y/N had assumed he was dozing off, until he shifted slightly, nuzzling into her neck with a soft sigh.

“Baaaabe,” he murmured, voice dripping with exhaustion and something dangerously close to a whine.

Y/N smirked, running her fingers through his curls. “Yes, love?”

“I’m sore.”

She snorted. “Oh, really? I never would have guessed.”

Oscar groaned dramatically, lifting his head just enough to pout at her. “I think you need to take care of me more.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “I just patched you up.”

“Yeah, but now I need, like… comfort care,” he said, blinking at her like an actual baby.

Y/N sighed, already feeling herself softening against her will. “You are so needy.”

Oscar hummed, leaning fully into her again. “Luckily, I only need you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she carefully maneuvered herself out of his hold.

“Alright, fine,” she muttered, standing up. “If you want to be babied, I’ll baby you.”

Oscar perked up immediately, watching her as she walked towards their bedroom. “Wait, seriously?”

She didn’t answer, already in their shared bathroom.

Oscar watched her with big, expectant eyes, his bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout as she rummaged through the cabinets. His fingers twitched where they rested on the couch, itching to pull her back down beside him.

She came back out, in one hand a pair of comfy pyjamas, and one of her favourite face masks she never let him use. But today was a rare moment.

He hummed in satisfaction as she tore open the face mask and started smoothing it over his skin, his eyes fluttering shut as he all but melted into her touch.

“This is nice,” he admitted sleepily.

“I told you.” She grinned, rubbing the last bit of serum into his jawline. “Now, let’s do something about this.” She tugged lightly at his soft curls.

Oscar barely reacted, just letting out another lazy hum. “Whatever you want, babe.”

She worked carefully, combing through his hair with her fingers, smoothing down the wild strands until he looked a little less like someone who had just survived a street fight. By the time she was done, he was completely boneless against her.

Y/N grabbed his pajamas off the coffee table, holding them out. “Alright, clothes.”

Oscar pouted but reached for them anyway, hesitating. “Too tired.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Do you need me to help you?”

He grinned, entirely unashamed. “Obviously.”

She rolled her eyes, but she still helped him, carefully maneuvering his arms through his pajama top, making sure not to irritate his bruises or bandages.

As soon as she was done, he collapsed against her again, arms wrapping around her waist as he all but melted into her.

“Better,” he murmured against her neck.

Y/N snorted. “You are so spoiled.”

Oscar smirked against her skin. “Yeah, but you love spoiling me.”

His contentment only lasted a couple of seconds, before he made another demand.

“C’mere.”

She huffed a laugh, placing a plate on the coffee table. “I am here.”

“No, like—” He pawed at her waist, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her legs, and practically her entire lower half, onto his lap.

“Here here.”

“Oscar,” she scolded, but her voice held no real bite. “You’re injured, you cannot be pulling me around like this.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbled, face buried in the crook of her neck. “Need you close.”

Y/N sighed, pretending to be put out, even as her heart melted. “You are so dramatic when you’re hurt.”

“You love me,” he countered, voice muffled against her skin.

She did. God, she really did.

Y/N pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Now, can we eat our pizza and watch my show?”

“Only if I get to be the little spoon.”

“You are always the little spoon.”

Oscar grinned against her skin. “Yeah, but I like hearing you say it.”

Y/N groaned, but she couldn’t stop the fond smile tugging at her lips.

“Fine, you big baby.”

Oscar hummed, squeezing her just a little tighter. “That’s more like it.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, she reached for the remote, pulling the blanket over both of them as she restarted Sex and the City.

Just as the episode started playing, Sylvia, who had been observing from a distance; finally stretched out of her spot on the armchair and padded over.

Y/N froze, watching in shock as their usually standoffish cat sniffed at Oscar before hopping up onto the couch beside him.

Oscar blinked, looking just as stunned as she was. “No way.”

“No way,” Y/N whispered, watching as Sylvia curled up against Oscar’s side.

Sylvia let out a soft huff, pressing herself into his ribs as if she actually cared about his well-being.

Y/N let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh my God.”

Oscar grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “I knew she loved me.”

“She feels bad for you,” Y/N cooed, reaching over to stroke Sylvia’s fur. “She pities you.”

Oscar scoffed. “Or maybe she recognizes that I’m the superior owner.”

“Please,” Y/N snorted. “I’m the one who feeds her. You just exist near her and hope she’ll acknowledge you.”

“Well, clearly it worked.”

Y/N pouted as Sylvia burrowed deeper against him. “I can’t believe this. All it took was you nearly getting beat up for her to show some love?”

Oscar smirked. “Guess she knows I’m a fighter.”

Y/N’s face dropped.

“Oh, absolutely not,” she muttered, turning to face him fully.

Oscar blinked at her. “What?”

Y/N placed a hand on her hip. “You are never fighting someone again unless I explicitly allow it.”

Oscar looked amused. “You’re giving me a permission system now?”

“Yes.” She folded her arms. “I will be your fight manager. You do not throw a punch unless I say so.”

Oscar huffed out a laugh, clearly trying not to smile. “And what if I see some bloke being a melt again?”

“Then you call me and ask for permission,” she said sternly. “I will assess the situation and then decide if you’re allowed to get involved.”

Oscar chuckled, tightening his arms around her waist and pulling her back into his chest. “You really don’t want me fighting, huh?”

Y/N sighed, her hands resting against his chest. “Of course I don’t, Oscar. Look at you.” Her voice softened slightly. “You came home all bruised and bleeding, and I—” She swallowed. “I hated it.”

Oscar’s smirk faded instantly. His fingers traced slow, soothing circles against her back as he murmured, “I’m okay, love.”

“You better be.” Y/N sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “Because if you ever come home looking like this again, I might actually fight you too.”

Oscar grinned, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Yes ma’am. No more fights unless I have official clearance from my very strict, very beautiful manager.”

Y/N smiled despite herself. “That’s more like it.”

Oscar sighed happily, settling into the couch. “Love you, Goose.”

She hummed, curling into him. “Love you too, idiot.”

what can i say, i love a sappy plot. again i have no shame in saying i giggled maniacally writing this, so hopefully u lot feel the same while reading this ;D! and i am open for requests so pls send as many as u would like :p

[vividly-vermillion]

✴︎ POPPING YOUR CHERRY

જ⁀➴ Nanami was patient until you were ready, giving you a night full of pleasure and taking your virginity in a gentle way

ﾉ including: Nanami Kento

ﾉ cw: fem!reader, no dynamics, soft sex, oral (reader giving and receiving), fingering, squirting, pussy job, creampie, lots of pet names, consent checks, gentle aftercare, slight body worship

ﾉ wordcount: 4.3k (whoopsie)

ﾉ info: I need this man so badly I can not tell you | Requests are open!

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED (share your thoughts!)

Nanami has been nothing but kind and patient with you ever since you two met, sure he had his moments where he snapped at you due to stress at his work but you never took it to heart, almost feeling bad that you didn't quite know how to help him since he always brushed you off before he would say something he regrets and you gave him the desired space. He would always come back to you after a long and hot shower, muscles relaxed, his mood way better.

It wasn't until you happened to walk past his big bathroom when he took one of these showers when you found out what was really going on. Through the noise of the water hitting the tiled floor you could hear soft groans, followed by a few mumbled words… Was he masturbating?

Your hand gently knocked against the closed door before you could stop it from happening, a few grumbles to be heard from the inside of the room. “It's open!” He called out mere seconds later, his thick shaft still resting heavy in his palm, body hidden away behind the steamed glass of the shower. Swiftly you entered the bathroom and went straight for the shower, your clothes falling in a trail as you approached your lover. “May I join?” You called out slightly hesitant, your cheeks heating up at the thought of seeing him like this for the first time, but silence filled the room until he eventually spoke a small “Yes”, unable to resist you any longer. Nanami wanted to take things slow with you, knowing you're inexperienced so he waited for you to make a move, to give a sign that you want him as much as he wants you - he was craving you, the image of your body clad in the beautiful sundress you wore once stuck in his head and leaving little space for imagination what your body beneath might look like. The thought of you was his sweet salvation and his downfall late at night when he couldn't sleep or during the day when he couldn't focus. Only you.

After taking a deep and shaky breath you opened the milky glass door of the shower, steam clouding your vision for mere seconds before it evaporated enough to see your lover standing in front of you, not daring to look down where you saw his cock standing proudly in the corner of your eyes.

Noticing how you seemed to be frozen to the spot, Nanami tried to cover his manhood with his large hands, his eyes staying respectfully on your face, not once wandering. “Changed your mind?” He asked with a soft voice, not a hint of pressure behind his words, just curiosity, but you quickly shook your head no to let him know that you did not change your mind. With a careful step you joined the blonde man in the shower, hot water cascading down your figure yet his eyes remained trained on your face.

“Warm enough?” He asked caring, his voice soft as silk when he spoke which seemed to calm your breath a little. “It could be a bit warmer… if you don't mind,” you mumble, feeling a little awkward for intruding on him during such a private moment and now you just stand around in front of him, fidgeting nervously with your hands while he reached out to the faucet, brushing past the soft skin of your arm which you had draped over your chest in a rather shy manner. This simple touch alone left your skin to erupt with goosebumps and your eyes wandered over his strong arms, ending at his chest before you looked to the dark tiled wall once more, the rippling muscles beneath his skin embedded in your brain now. “You don't have to be so reserved. I'm your partner after all,” he pointed out lightly, not minding your eyes on him and as much as he wanted to just push you against the wall and take you, he remained patient and caring. He knew this was a rather big step for you to take already and he didn't want to scare you with anything, but you simply nodded, unsure arms wrapping around his torso in a gentle hug.

Nanami held back a chuckle upon this sweet and innocent gesture, holding you close to his body underneath the big rainshower, hot water cascading down both your bodies now. He would lie if he said that your soft skin and your perked nipples pressed against him in such an intimate way didn't affect him but his body betrayed him already - his erection twitching against your stomach and letting you feel just how badly he needed you. He cleared his throat and was ready to mumble out an apology for being inappropriate during such a delicate moment, but you looked up at him with a newfound hunger hidden behind your eyes.

Without hesitation the blonde man leaned down to capture your soft lips in a heated kiss, his tongue no stranger to your mouth as the kiss grew heated like oh so many times before. The butterflies were doing cartwheels in your stomach when his large hands reached down to hold your hips, pulling you impossibly close to his body in an effort to get you even closer until you had to break the kiss for air, his kisses traveling to your neck and it was evident that both of you yearned for more than just a makeout session.

By the time your hand stroked over his rock hard abs it was clear to him and he nodded almost breathless, craving the touch of your soft hand wrapped around his shaft for the first time and when you finally did he couldn't hold back a relieved groan. Nanami’s lips returned to yours once again as he guided your much smaller hand up and down the length of his cock, showing you just the way he liked it, but the way your hand barely managed to wrap around his girth left his head spinning, desperate to maintain focus when his hands crept over to your body once more. Calloused hands resting on your hip and just below your chest, your nodding of wordless consent was all he needed to let his hands travel further, one pulling you closer as the other started kneading your chest. “You're so beautiful, doll” he managed to rasp out as his kisses returned to your neck once more, his low moans and pants filling your senses as your hand worked on his length to help him get off.

Your soft whines didn't go unnoticed by him when he gently rolled your pebbled nipple between his thumb and index finger, his lips now trailing down to take care of your neglected breast, the warmth of his mouth engulfing one nipple while his fingers played with the other and you started to rub your thighs together in desperation. “Let me take care of you,” he mouthed against the soft flesh of your boobs and you could only nod, your hand working faster on him as his teeth tugged on your nipple ever so gently. He should have felt ashamed for being selfish, but your hands working on him got him off faster than his own ever could, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach and hands only to be washed away by the water right away, his head resting in the crook of your neck for a short moment, but before you knew it, his fingers were brushing against your thighs, begging for you to open up for him, which you did.

Skilled fingers caressed your inner thighs until he finally reached your core and just as he touched the part where you needed him most his sweet touch disappeared, a small chuckle vibrating through his chest which caught your attention. “We should take this to the bedroom, I want to take my time with you” he mumbled into your ear, his voice hoarse from how aroused he's gotten by the thought of finally claiming you as his entirely. You didn't need to answer him either, the way you turned off the water within a mere second was answer enough and he shook his head at how eager you seemed to be.

Leaving the warmth of the shower first, Nanami went to get a fresh towel for you, the soft fabric smelling like orchids and cotton, something you've started associating with him - with home. Just as he wrapped it around you, one hand stretched out to help you out of the shower and guided you to the bedroom you've been to a hundred times before. You should know the way by now but perhaps the towel that hung dangerously low on his hips, threatening to fall off, was all you could focus on. You were grateful for when he gently scooped you up into his strong arms, the hint of chest hair tickling your skin before you were placed onto the bed with utmost care.

Warm hands untucked the towel from around your body to reveal your beauty to him, your body entirely exposed but you didn't feel the need to cover up, his gaze letting the heat rush to your cheeks. He made you feel wanted, desired like you're the most beautiful woman on earth - and to him you were. You were perfect in every single way, almost feeling bad that he's about to ruin you like this but he craved to hear you whimper and whine for more, pawing at his sculpted body when he takes you past the edge, begging for him, pleading to fill you up - making you his entirely.

Of course he will take his sweet time until he is sure that you can handle him, the thought of hurting you made his heart clench and… he's been staring for too long, your sweet giggle filling his ears. You broke the shell of the stoic man, you could make him crawl to you if you'd only ask. He was fully devoted to you and your love, craving you, his body screaming for you in every way - it was almost scaring him but he was undoubtedly yours.

Kneeling down just in front of the bed he pulled your body closer, your beautiful legs now resting over his shoulders until your glistening folds were right in front of his face, his blonde hair tickling your thighs when he started pressing open mouthed kisses along your supple flesh. Minutes that felt like hours passed and you needed him, going crazy with how badly you yearned for his pleasure until your hands found their way into his silk like hair, pulling him towards your core with pleading eyes. “Patience, doll” he whispered, his warm breath fanning over your folds and eliciting goosebumps over your body. You've never had someone this close to your heat but it was Nanami - you had no reason to grow shy nor embarrassed over your feelings for him, his rock hard cock letting you know that he was equally eager for this.

His amber eyes held nothing but warmth in them when he pressed a kiss to the mound of your core, looking for any sign of discomfort in yours. “Yellow if it's too much, red if you need me to stop” his words cut the silence in the room, accompanied by the thumping of your heart now picking up, almost sounding like a war drum. You nodded, unable to form words in the anticipation laced with nervousness but it was enough for the man between your legs, trusting you to let him know if you weren't ready to go on and you knew he would never pressure you into anything.

Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his kisses travel over your mound onto your folds until his thumbs ever so gently parted them, exposing your wetness to him. Unsure what to expect you gasped softly when the first kitten lick of his tongue brushed over your exposed clit, fingers digging into his scalp at the sensation. You could feel him smile at your reaction, his tongue traveling through your folds in a zigzag motion only to circle your bundle of nerves, alternating between gently flicking it with his tongue and sucking on it until you were helplessly bucking against his face, the pleasure washing over you which caught you entirely off guard with its intensity that you couldn't even warn your lover - but he knew.

Nanami's tongue kept playing with your clit until he heard the cry of his name leave your throat, begging him, for what you didn't even know yourself but the orgasm that followed was better than any you've given to yourself.

Allowing you to calm down, his tongue slowed down its assault on your sensitive nub only to travel further down, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. The slurping noises were lewd but you didn't want him to stop, neither when he pushed his tongue into your entrance, nor when his thumb came down to rub small circles at your overly sensitive clit. Nanami was entirely lost in your taste, eyes fluttering shut and breaking eye contact for a moment and it made you swoon, seeing how much he enjoyed this - how pleasing you was pleasing him. Your juices kept coating his tongue, followed by soft groans against your heat only for his tongue to leave your entrance and return to your clit once more.

“God. You're so addictive” he mumbled into you, the hand which rested on your thigh now joining his tongue, his index finger gently circling your entrance to gauge a reaction from you, seeing if you show any signs of it being too much, but you were babbling at this moment, cunt clenching around nothing when his tongue started his assault on your bundle of nerves once more. Nanami was certain that you needed this as much as he did, ever so gently pushing his finger into your untouched hole just to feel how tight you clench around him from the intrusion. Nodding you started grinding against his face and finger, needing him deeper, needing more and he heard you, briefly pulling his finger out of you before replacing it with his middle- and ringfinger. Your cunt sucked them in, almost struggling to accommodate his thick digits - the stretch much more than your fingers ever managed and when he curled them into your sweet spot it was over for you once again. A loud whine erupted from your throat as the squelching noises of your pussy grew in volume “Ke-Kento… too much!” You whimpered helplessly to get him to slow down but the second your sweet voice reached his ears a clear stream of liquid splashed out of you and against his tongue. His fingers slowed down the moment you begged for it but your orgasm already washed over you, legs shaking violently on his shoulders when he lapped up the juices that just squirted out of you.

Your ears were ringing as your lungs desperately tried to get air back into them, not even noticing how your lover was raking his hands over your thighs in a caring manner, absolutely mesmerized by you. He knew very well that your body was pushed past its boundaries so he wanted to stop or at least give you a break but you finally came back to your senses, your gaze still hungry despite looking utterly fucked out by just his tongue and fingers. “Don't stop… please,” you whimpered, begging him for more. Oh you little vixen, knowing exactly how to play his heartstrings - how is he supposed to deny you such a request when he could devour you whole?

A single kiss was pressed to your right thigh before he put it down onto the bed, shaking his head with a breathless chuckle when he caught a glimpse of your frown. “You're going to be the death of me, love” he mumbled amused, your left leg now lined up with his chest and shoulder as he stood between your thighs. The feeling of his cock resting just above your heat made you want to scream, the kiss that was placed upon your ankle provoked the smallest whimper to erupt out of you. “Please Kento,” You encouraged him, being entirely certain about going this step with him and he nodded, thumbs spreading your folds once more to get a view on how wet he got you, a small puddle forming underneath your ass on the bed and he deemed it good enough to drag his length through your cunt, slowly.

Nanami wouldn't last long if he made love to you now, far too riled up from all your moans, your taste and the way you squirted just from two of his fingers working their magic on you. “Ken… i need you” you begged, soft voice sounding strained now, almost desperate but he only picked up his pace slightly, his tip now nudging your clit just the right ways to have you mewling for him once again, hands digging into the bedsheets from how sensitive you were by now and it needed everything inside of him to not push his cock inside of you when he felt close.

You could feel the twitching of his shaft against your wet cunt, heavy balls clenching as he spilled his seed over your heat and lower stomach, his head thrown back while a guttural moan left his throat. You really were going to be the death of him - now he was certain. Seeing your little pussy covered in cum did things to him, eyes darkening when he dragged the head of his cock through your folds once again to collect your mixed juices, only stopping when he arrived at your entrance. One last time his eyes wandered up your body to rest on your half closed eyes, looking so tired but so happy at the same time.

Nanami needed to make sure that you still wanted this since you were almost at a point of no return. Sensing his hesitation you reached your palm out towards him, letting the man that stood tall like a tree between your legs lower himself so you may cup his cheek in the most loving way. “I want you, Kento Nanami. I've never been more sure of something in my life before,” you whispered softly, the room around you falling quiet once more, only your heartbeats to be heard, hammering against your chests and begging to be united.

Your gentle giant couldn't ask for more from you, hearing you say it loud and clear - you wanted him, wanted this. His soft lips captured yours in an enchanting kiss and taking your mind entirely off of the way the bulbous head of his dick slowly pushed past your tight entrance and molding you to be his.

A hiccup caused by your pain interrupted the sensual kiss but Nanami was quick to help you, halting his advances when his length was halfway inside of you, taking your virginity with utmost care. “Shh… you're doing so good for me, doll. Do you want me to stop?” His voice sounded strained, yet caring and it was clear that it took everything in him to not thrust the remaining half into you which was greatly appreciated. His forehead connected with yours after he pressed a kiss to yours, waiting for you to say something, anything. “G-green” your voice cut through the silence and allowed him to go on which he did, one of his hands still holding your leg to his chest while the other intertwined with yours, lips returning to yours in a desperate attempt to ground himself so he won't lose control. Hurting you was the last thing Nanami wanted to do after all.

His balls rested heavy against you when he finally bottomed out, his deep groan echoing off the walls when you raked your fingers over his well defined back, feeling every ripple of his muscles beneath his pale skin. “Taking me so- fuck… so well,” he moaned breathless when his hips started to move with small thrusts, his thumb wiping a stray tear from your cheek and you're not sure if it was from the pain or the fact that he made you feel so incredibly good. Weakly you nodded your head, drinking the praise in like it's the essence that's keeping you alive. “My good girl,” he continued, hips meeting yours with every word and he felt like his heart would beat out of his chest at any moment, seeing your jaw slowly going slack and your moans growing in volume to create this lewd image of his usually so sweet love.

Nanami had to halt, his chest rising and sinking rapidly from the way you manage to steal his breath, your wet cunt gripping him like a vice and trying to milk him from all he's worth and he wanted to just fuck you senseless right then and there, hips pistonning into you like his life depended on it… but he didn't - he couldn't. Not this time at least. Instead his hips moved in slow but deep, rhythmic thrusts which let him feel every ridge inside your heat and only adding to his bottomless hunger for you. You were moaning beneath him, angelic sounds to his ears but when he straightened up so he was no longer bending over you on the bed you suddenly cried out his name in pleasure, soft moans turning desperate for more.

The new angle made you feel even fuller than before, his tip angled perfectly to hit your sweet spot with every gentle thrust until your glossy eyes landed on his almost closed ones, nodding over and over “I know you're close, princess. Just let go,” he encouraged you, his thrusts picking up their pace to push against your sweet spot repeatedly until your toes curled and your back arched so perfectly off the mattress. His thumb rubbed tight circles onto your sensitive clit to drag out this earth shattering orgasm as long as possible - you deserved a first time to remember fondly after all but he just doesn't stop. Your breathless whines turned into cries for him, for more, for him to not stop. You were high on this feeling he gave to you, his hips rutting into you aimlessly at this point and his head was thrown back as his moans mixed with yours. “One more, just- fuck! Just one more,” he groaned with a rough voice, needing to feel you clench around him in bliss again before he allowed himself to follow you.

When your pussy clenched around him as another orgasm rippled through your beautiful body, he finally understood why they call it a little death. His hips thrusted into you a final time, burying himself as deep as he physically could while his dick twitched wildly inside of you and you could feel the way his balls contracted, slowly filling you up with his release.

Nanami's vision went white for a moment, pure bliss taking over and his body feeling like he was floating on cloud nine - this is why they call it a little death. You were going to be his own piece of heaven, your core gripping his cock so tightly he felt like it was hard to breathe but at the same time you were the oxygen his lungs needed.

His barely there thrusts finally came to a stop and he lifted your leg off his chest and shoulder before lifting your body against his chest so you could be as close as possible without having to slip out. The way he fell onto the bed with you was almost clumsy but he didn't want to let go of you, not even for a fraction of a second.

His big hand came up to wipe a strand of hair behind your ear, a tired smile on his lips “Are you okay, doll?” he asks with his voice like silk, needing to know if you're fine and you nodded tired, laying on top of him now with your bodies still connected. Even with his own seed running out of you and onto his body and the bed beneath he made no effort to move, the moment too perfect. Your body was draped over his, your limbs ever so tired as his hands ran up and down your back which was sticky from the sweat but he didn't mind it for one second. This moment dragged on for a while, gentle touches and even gentler kisses shared between lovers until your breath started to even out. In your half awake state you barely noticed how he carefully picked up your tired body to carry you into the room where it all began, only registering it when the sound of the water running and the scent of lavender filled your exhausted senses. “You can just rest, I'll clean you up” he whispered and lowered you into the warm water of the bathtub, following you mere seconds after where he let you rest against his chest again. You let your eyes remain closed when he picked up the softest washcloth, slowly dragging it over your arms, your torso, your legs and lastly over your sore pussy, still leaking his cum. There was nothing sexual in his touch, only tender care as he made sure to clean your body from any filth so you may rest and let him take care of you so you could wake in the bed to the smell of breakfast in the morning…

[sumbarbietingz]

@tojisth3rdwife this is why I fwy mama

Here’s my take on it

Both of you are right and I understand both pov

Ik it could be unsettling to see Toji talk in AAVE as a trad Japanese man lol and I’ve noticed ppl having a problem regarding smau and how different Sukuna and Toji speak from other characters. Most of the time you can tell it’s a non black writer who did it. I feel like based on some characters' personalities, ppl push whatever biases, stereotypes, or fantasies? They have about a specific race on a character.

However.

If we really wanna go down the “realistic” path, most of the jjk characters wouldn’t even be attracted to us in the first place💀 bc like op said, they’re Japanese men who grew up in Japan. I don’t need to remind you how foreign women are seen over there. For Toji mmh. I don’t see him having a problem with being with a foreigner, nigga is a man whore as long as you have money, I don’t think he gives a flying fuck. But let’s take Sukuna for exemple. Do I really need to explain why someone who was born during the Heian era wouldn’t be attracted to a foreign woman? The simple fact that they’re speaking fluent English in the fanfics doesn’t sound right.

To me as long as you don’t make them say nigga, really problematic stuff or whatever, use your imagination however you like. Cause like my girl said, at the end of the day, they’re fictional characters. So have fun. Like the queen said “Baby it’s your world ain’t it?”

I fuck with the Toji fics but I’ll forever be thrown off when I see him refer to the reader as “ma” or “mama”

it don’t even soundddd right 😭😭 baby this is a Japanese man 😫

edit: AND WHILE WE AT IT BITCH WTF U MEAN “yer” and “fer me” ⁉️⁉️😭

[genderless-naper]

fast learner

trafalgar law x crewmate!reader

themes: 18+, female reader, inexperienced reader, oral (male receiving), slight breast & saliva play, no protection, no pull out, desperation, marking.

law wants to teach you some medical knowledge in case of emergencies. as he observed you he becomes impressed with how well you pick up things. law decides to see how well you can pick up sucking a popsicle in a different way

wc: 3.7k, nsfw, smut, lowercase intended!

law tried his best to educate his crew on the basics of medicine. he thought it was important for everyone to know the basics of how to treat wounds in case there was a situation where he wouldn’t be around to help. he would also set up some mock surgeries, and trained each member 1 on 1.

when it came to his session with you he found that you were the quickest to absorb the information. you watched carefully, and took notes accordingly. he could tell you took this serious unlike some of the other members. his expectations were low, but you singlehandedly changed that for him.

he decides to continue the next day teaching you more medical knowledge. law delved into many different emergency procedures, and explained in step-by-step detail how to deal with it. by the end of the day your hand was exhausted from all the notes you had to take.

bepo pokes his head in near the end of law’s expansive teaching session. the mink held up two popsicles, “i wanted to bring some snacks! i’m sure you’re working super hard y/n, so you deserve a break!”

the mink waddles over and hands them cool treat to you and the captain. law comments as well, “we can take a short break. it’s been a while since we start.”

you mumbled under your breath, “more like almost 12 hours…”

bepo gasped dramatically, “captain why would you torture our precious y/n like this!”

law dismissed bepo’s dramatic response, “it isnt dramatic. y/n learning this stuff could be the difference between life and death for one of you guys one day.”

bepo knew best than to argue back with law. he bid his farewell and left you two alone.

although it was meant to be a break law couldn’t help but keep up with the lessons in some way. as you tried to enjoy your sweet treat the tattooed man would point at different tools and wait for you to answer correctly. you responded in between your licks.

“you know i thought this was meant to be a break captain!”

“it is a break. we aren’t learning about how to deal with a bleeding lung. i’m just making sure you remember and were listening.”

you couldn’t help but think he was placing too much importance on this. still you kept your opinions to yourself. there’s no point in trying to voice them knowing that law has made his mind up.

law watched you suck the tip of the popsicle. his attentive nature had him notice the melted droplets start to roll down the popsicle, and inevitably drip off.

he spoke up before there was a chance for it to drip off, “lick it from the bottom.”

without knowing his reasoning to his suggestion you started to follow it. you started from the bottom and took one long lick to the top of the popsicle. you did this all around, and ended with sucking the tip of it. you looked back at your instructor waiting for him to approve like he always did when you listened to what he had to teach you.

instead law was starring mindlessly at your lips. the visual of your tongue gliding from the base to the top replayed on a loop in his mind. it was almost like he could feel it on his own dick. he tried to push the imagine away, but it had already cause the blood in his body to start to rush.

you tilted your head at the lack of response, “was that okay captain..?”

your voice broke law out of his trance, “uh..yeah that was fine..”

there was a long pause before he spoke again, “you should try eating it this other way. i think it’ll taste better this way..”

you waited for him to give you your next set of instructions. law walked over to stand next to you, and positioned your mouth right above the popsicle, “you should suck it.. but bob your head a little. it… helps with spreading the flavor across your whole mouth at once…”

law hoped the reasoning he made up on the spot didn’t sound stupid. he was relieved to see you obey his instructions like you had been for the whole day.

your lips encased the tip of the popsicle, and you slowly moved your head down then pulling it back up, but not enough for the popsicle to leave your mouth. you continued this motion for a while waiting for an approval signal.

after an extended amount of time passes you slow down to look up at law. you were immediately locking eye contact with the tattooed man who was starring at you the while time.

he spoke so lowly you almost missed it, “you’re such a fast learner y/n..”

you hummed, “i just follow whatever you think is best captain.”

you reached over to grab some napkins behind law. you were now leaning closer to him. his boner, which he was trying to ignore beforehand, had grown noticeably in size. it was big enough for you to accidentally hit your knee into.

law winces and grabs the edge of the table for support. the sudden movement sent a shock all over his body. you, who didn’t know law’s boner was a slow growing problem, thought you just caused this.

panic was laced through your voice, “oh no, i’m so sorry captain! i didn’t mean to do that! a-are you okay..?”

law was clearly not okay. he kept his head down to hide his scrunched up eyebrows. he but his lip aw his boner grew more against his restrictive pants, “fuck y/n.. what’s your damn problem…”

you kept apologizing not quite knowing what to do in such a situation. the notes you took all day couldn’t help right now, “wh-what do i do?? you’re in p-pain. you’ve been teaching me how to help someone in pain all day but i don’t know what to do in this kind of situation!”

law rubbed his temples and responded, “you do know…”

you thought law taught you this, so it must be written in your notes. you skim through them all to find something to help.

law pulled you close to him by the arm, and threw your book on the table, “you didn’t get the chance to write it down. it won’t be in there y/n.”

he starred at your lips with seductive eyes. the sensation had spread through his whole body, and quite frankly he didn’t care if he was pushing boundaries at that moment.

his hand made its way to your face to caress your cheek, and his thumb traced your bottom lip. he pulled it down slightly to expose your mouth as he stared at it, “i just taught you this, it should be fresh in your mind y/n-ya.”

your eyes widened as you realized what he was implying, “i-i don’t think i can do that capta-“

he cut you off immediately, “why can’t you? don’t you want to fix the problem you made especially if i’m giving you permission to do so?” secretly law knew the problem was existing beforehand, yet he didn’t care if a little white lie helped with getting your pretty lips around his cock faster.

you looked unsure, “i don’t know..”

law winced again. his pants becoming unbearably tight. he knew he would have to talk you through this, “you’re a fast learner. i know you’ll do great. now what do you do when your patient is in pain?”

“get them to a relaxed position, then treat the pained areas..”

law nods, “good girl. you’re already doing so good.”

you nod slowly, and instruct law to sit down in a chair. he manspreads to avoid unwanted friction against his pained area. he was now having noticeable shortness of breath trying to keep his pain under control.

you were still in a clear state of shock, and didn’t know what to do next. law takes a deep breath, “get on your knees y/n… you need to uncover the area you’ll be working on. i’m sure you remember this lesson…”

you nod fast and sit between his spread legs. your hands were shaking as you unbuttoned his pants. you were careful to not touch the boner unnecessarily. you were successfully able to pull law’s pants and boxers off with a bit of help from him. he kicked it a few feet away.

law’s dick sprang up once uncovered. you looked at it then at law who was still in noticeable pain, “wh-what should i do next..?”

law pushes your hair over your shoulder as he replies, “treat it like a popsicle. that’s gonna be the only way to fix it.”

you weren’t confident in your ability. you had never done anything like this.

law spoke again, “you’re my star student. if you get stuck i’ll just teach you how to keep going.”

you nod, feeling a bit more confident in your abilities. you recalled how law taught you to eat the sweet treat.

law pulled your head closer to his aching boner hoping it would get you to start. he was desperate for any relief.

you hold the base using only your fingertips, and pull the tip to touch your lips. it was hard against your soft lips. your fingertips could feel the veins that covered the aching cock. you pull the tip into your mouth, and let your lips engulf its circumferences. law grips the armrests of the chair as his head rolls back. he closes his eyes to focus on the new sensations you were giving him.

you started out sucking softly, then pulling the length back out your mouth and licking it up from the base. law let out shaky breaths with every lick that covered his hard dick.

law took your hand, and had you wrap it around his member, “do this to help with the process y/n.” law proceeded to move your hand up and down his member. once you got the hang of it he let you continue on your own without instructing your hand on doing it. he loved how he could tell you to do anything, and you would obey him so fast.

you went back to sucking his tip while including the stroking movement from your hand. the sucking continued to a bobbing movement which took in more of his length at once.

you were doing great a while, until law felt you start to slow down significantly. he opened his eyes to look at what you were doing.

he saw your thighs rubbing against each other as you tried your best to please him. he smirked at the sight in front of him, and pulled your head off his cock, “is everything okay y/n?” law’s eyes signaled to your thighs.

you nodded fast, “everything is o-okay! it’s just a bit of discomfort.. but it’s not important. you need to be treated as soon as possible.”

law hummed, “i think my symptoms were contagious then. you did your best with what your pretty could do. you should let me take care of this now. you’re going to be my patient now.”

law stood up and pulled you up from your seated position. you naturally kept rubbing your thighs together, and the sight of that turned law on even more. he picked you up with ease, and laid you across the table, “i’m gonna have to undress you to get to your wounded area y/n. will that okay?” law couldn’t keep his smirk off his face.

the growing sensation made you feel desperate to feel relief. you agreed without a second thought. law pulled your shirt off with ease leaving you in your bra. law traced his hand up your stomach, and let his thumb play with the bottom of your bra, “are you feeling anything in your chest?”

you hummed to answer his question. he spoke up again, “are you able to show me which part specifically?”

“i-i guess..” you unclipped your bra and pulled it off. being exposed in front of your captain had you blush uncontrollably, but he wasn’t your captain right now. he was your doctor, and he would help you feel better right now.

you shyly pointed at your nipple, “i feel it here…”

law hums and carefully takes your breasts into his hand. they sat well in his palms as he pinched your nipples gently. he observed how your face turned into a more desperate expression. you started to but your bottom lip as he rolled his fingers over the sensitive buds.

“i’m gonna need your help with this next part baby.”

you were attentive with the new name he called you. he knew you were willing to do anything he would tell you next.

“i need to you to put some of your saliva on my tongue to help me out.”

“my saliva..? how would i get it on your tongue?”

law smirked, “push it onto my tongue using your tongue.”

you were unsure of the visual he was trying to paint out, but nonetheless you didn’t question him any longer. you saw him stick his tongue out waiting for you. you inched closer to him and gently pressed your tongue against his. law needed more than what you were giving him. he pushed his head slightly closer to connect your lips. it was a wet attempt of a kiss as he tries to steal all the liquid in your mouth. once satisfied he pulled away and went straight to transporting that to your nipples.

law knew he could’ve done this without your help, but he just wanted a reason to feel your lips against his, and your tongue dancing alongside with his.

he went back to pleasing your nipples. you let out quite whimpers and moans with every suck and squeeze the man did.

law spent enough time ignoring his own problem, so he pushed open your legs to start to grind his boner against your cloth heat. this action made you create louder noises than before.

once satisfied law pulls away from your chest. he looked at his artwork, and admired how puffy he left your gorgeous nipples. law took your hand and made you grab your own boobs, “start playing with these while i take care of the bigger problem. you think you could do that for me baby?”

you hum and try to replicate what law was doing. you were a fast learner after all, so you knew to focus your attention to your nipples.

law focused his attention to in between your thighs, his crotch could feel your juices soak through your pants. he needed to uncover you now.

so he wasted no time with doing so. in an instant he had your pants next to his on the floor, and had your panties tucked away in a drawer next to the table you were on. he knew his future self would be thanking him for such a priceless gift.

the cool air sent shivers up your spine. you closed your legs shut, “its too cold!”

law hums as he slowly tries to reopen them, “you’ll feel uncomfortable now, but i promise you wont notice it in a bit. just be cooperative with me for now y/n.”

once re-exposed, law takes his aching length, and pressed it against your wet core.

he let your juices cover his cock, and slowly rubbed it through your folds. he observed you with every movement, not wanting you to feel overwhelmed.

“this is gonna feel a bit different, okay?” you could only conjure up a hum as a response.

law focused his hard tip at the top of your pussy, and rubbed his tip against your clit. he watched your body react as you let out soft moans. he could see goosebumps form on your arms as he continued the motion. he rubbed your clit in circular motions with his tip, until stopping with your clit sitting perfectly next to his opening on his tip.

he stopped his movement to talk to you again, “i’m about to do the main part of the operation. its going to hurt at the beginning, but it will make you feel great afterwards. you’ll feel so much relief after we’re done. are you ready?”

you were still unsure. law reached over tor cup your cheek reassuringly, “you’re gonna be okay. you trust me don’t you?”

“i do trust you…”

the smirk returning back to his face “then let me finish my job, i need to make sure my patient feels better by the end of this.”

you nod, but hold his wrist so he doesn’t remove his hand from you. you shyly pull it from your cheek to hold hands with. law lets you lace your fingers with his. he figured you’d need something to squeeze.

law pulled his tip to your slit, and pushed it in slowly. he saw you tense, scrunch your brows, whimper, and squeeze his hand. he knew it must’ve been a new feeling for you, so he had to treat you extra carefully.

he was halfway in before he pulled back out. he continued this half in half out motion to help you get used to this new feeling. he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

you were doing your best to keep your voice low. when you felt a loud moan wanting to come out you immediately moaned into the tattoo hand to muffle the sound. the sight of you using his hand in such a desperate situation drove law crazy, and he unknowingly pushed in all the way. you gasped loudly at the new sensation. you were immediately being stretched out by his size.

law cursed under his breath, “shit, i didn’t mean to do that.”

your voice trembled, “i-its okay law”

he nodded and continued at a steady pace. law rocked his hips at a controlled pace. your warmth was inviting his cock to keep thrusting in. the longer it drew out the harder he would start to thrust.

it started out gradual. the force was enough to see your breasts jump sightly. it then escalated to your whole body moving force the force. finally his thrusts turn hard enough to start knocking things off the table.

your moans would fill up the room. it was dancing in melody with the sound of law’s impactful thrusts. you were unable to control your body and the sounds it was making. your mind was blank, and all you could think about was feeling good because of his dick in you fucking you mindless. you wanted him to go deeper and deeper. you wanted him to fuck you into oblivion.

on the other hand law felt like a horny animal with the rhythm of his movements. every thrust pushed you away from him, so he had to keep a tight grip on your waist to pull you back close to him. your whimpers grew louder and more high pitched. it was signaling that you were close. law felt his hand you had near your face get wet. he looked up to see your teary eyes and seductive expression looking back at him.

he could tell that you were lost in the moment, and would take whatever he would give you. seeing you in this state made him never let you out of his sight ever again. he wanted to mark you up to show the world that you already belonged to someone. his mind filled with animalistic thoughts, and it reflected on his heightened pace.

he leaned down to your neck and started to mark you up. he sucked and left bite marks all over your neck. the only thought on his mind was how you were his, and his only. he wanted to make sure you would never get away from him.

you abandoned the hand you were holding onto and relocated your hands to law’s hair. you tugged on his hair trying to help ground yourself, but it felt impossible. you kept climbing high and higher towards your climax.

law’s out of breath voice was heard in between the thrusts, “are you feeling good baby? you feel so fucking great… i need to fuck you like this all the fucking time.”

you mindless nod in between your moans. it felt impossible to make coherent sentences at that point you could only get a few words out, “it f-feels so good law! ahh!” tears tricked down your face as you felt a knot undo in your stomach, and your come orgasm crashing down on your body.

you produced sounds you didn’t know where capable of being made. hearing your seductive vocals pushed law into reaching his own orgasm.

he shot his cum deep into you. you felt the warmth fill you up even more than you were. law’s pace slowed down significantly, but he couldn’t help stopping then. he fucked his cum deep into you. his thrusts were much more sloppy than it was before. he just wanted to mark you as his in as many ways as he could. he didn’t even bother wondering if you wanted to be his to begin with.

once finished he finally pulled out. you both stared at each other as you regained your breaths. you we’re completely fucked out, and law couldn’t stop admiring you in such a state. he leaned closer to you and kissed you passionately. it was a very lazy passionate kiss which you tried to return in your exhausted state.

law pulled away and looked st you with hooded eyes, “i need you to be mines only..”

“wh-what captain..?”

law groans, “stop with that captain bullshit.. just say you’ll be mines” desperation laced his voice. he wasn’t trying to make it sound like that, but it was hard to control it while being so exhausted.

you just mindlessly nod as a response.

once law is able to regain some of his regular breathing he uses the last of his energy to shambles you both to his bed in his private room.

he pulled you close to him, afraid you would run away from him at any given second. you on the other hand didn’t have the energy to even move positions. you let law hold you close without complaints, and felt him steal another lazy kiss from you. you slowly drift into a deep sleep with law following right behind you.

masterlist

[calebsangelbby]

・❥ CALEBS FAVORITE KINKS !!!

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ rundown :: a list of what i think are calebs top 5 kinks !

WARNINGS :: NSFW! 18+, incest , oral sex , bondage , collaring , orgasm denial , porn w/ no plot

a/n :: these are not in order !! :)

1. INCEST :: now, this might seem a little bit overboard , but to caleb ? it's nothing new . after knowing you for so long ... growing up together , living in the same house , sharing everything with each other .. it's like a normal thing to him. so normal to the point where he'll call you his 'sissy' during different times of day . " sissy , could you grab my water from the table for me ? thank you, love . " it just rolls of the tongue !! especially during your alone time, too . it slips out more than you or him could count . when he first moaned it he never even payed attention to it , thinking of it as nothing . it was only when you gave him a look that he couldn't quite read did he notice what he accidentally said . "o-oh my god pips im.. im so sorry. that was fucking weird and i shouldnt have said it... im a damn pervert." shame flooded his face ... but he knew it would happen again , whether he could control it or not .

2. BONDAGE :: listen , he doesnt want to be tied up because hes horny , it's because he trusts you so much ... and that kind of turns him on . the fact he can willingly submit to you and trust you without having to worry about what you're doing . although he likes to be restrained , he'd never do it to you .. only if you asked him . he'd do anything you asked for (within reason) , whether thats strapping you to the bed with ropes , chains , a belt (his) , cuffs .. whatever you please . all he's worried about is them scuffing up those pretty wrists of yours . "nono wait baby .. your skin, it's red . do you need me to stop ? i'll stop right now for you , you look like you're in pain . let me kiss it better pips .." is what he'd say on any other occasion .. but the times when you didnt look so in pain , thats when his freak comes out . "you cant run away silly .. stop trying to run from me . i wont allow it , and neither will those restraints you begged me to use on you . i actually quite like the way you look right now... all tied up and cute for me ."

3. COLLARING :: i feel like this is the most canon you could ever get . he'd seriously be into making you wear a collar for him , wanting everyone to know who you belong to & to not try with his girl ! also , he'd want one with a bell .. just so you couldnt escape without being noisy ;) . buuuut he's up for wearing one for you as well , he also wants to let people know who he belongs to . i think he'd get one for the both of you regardless of you wanting one or not , his need to get people off of you is too strong, as he is alarmingly obsessed with you . the collar isn't just used as man repellent , it turns him on so fucking much . knowing that you're practically his property gets his dick hard to the point of ache , he'd definitely make you wear it during sex . mumbling incoherent sentences about how much he loves the way it looks on your gorgeous neck .. how he never wants you to take it off . "as long as you're here, with me, you aren't touching it . fuck , you're so good for me .."

4. ORGASM DENIAL :: hear me out . it's late at night and he notices your location isnt on ... he texts and calls you multiple times without an answer . eventually , he tracks you down and confronts you about going out without his knowledge / consent . after he's done scolding you , that night , he'd drag you into his car as soon as he could & not let you cum . he would adore hearing you beg for him , solely because it feeds into his desire for you to need him as much as he does you . he wouldnt be too fond if you ended up doing it to him ... maybe as revenge or something , but nonetheless , he would be in pieces . pleading , begging , writhing , all of the above just to feel your perfect cunt squeeze around him one more time so he can cum . he would never put his hands on you , but he would just get so desperate ... he might have to move you himself !! at that point , all he would manage were whimpers and prayers . "ohmygod pips please .. im sorry! okay! im sorry .. i can't take this anymore baby , i need to cum . i need it so fucking bad ."

5. FACE SITTING :: caleb takes "the best way to die is by thigh" way too seriously . he would happily pass away while in between your thighs ... he loves eating you out so much it's kind of concerning . the moment his lips are on your core hes not letting up until you've cum over and over again on his face .. hes addicted to the taste of you . his deep obsession with your juices is so bad that he has to have you suffocating him , almost breaking his nose , using his face as a toy ... he can't get enough . i think this roots from the fact that he jerks off to your voice all the time & that makes him so attached to all your moans . especially when you call out his name while you cum .. he thinks about those moments way too often .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in conclusion :: caleb would really do whatever you asked , aka hes into anything , but these are the ones he really enjoys . <3

[sweetreasures]

our little star

pornstar!mingi x gn pornstar!reader

director!hongjoong, implied seonghwa x reader, casting/filming, tears mention (no dacryphilia), unprotected sex, creampie, petnames (mingi loves calling reader doll, babydoll, etc)

[minors dni, ageless blogs will be blocked]

masterlist

mingi led hongjoong into the studio by the forearm, rambling excitedly about this new talent he’s discovered who is going to take his art to the next level. hongjoong wasn’t exactly in the market to acquire anyone new, much less someone as inexperienced in the industry as you. no, no, he fought back against mingi’s insistence. it would be too hard to break in a new performer at the moment.

but mingi assured his friend (and boss) that you were different. he’d seen you in action, spotting your profile on a website and scrolling through the videos as if studying a portfolio. your equipment was lacking, and the camera quality needed some work, but what mingi noticed first was how earnest you were. the scenes you performed with your partners—no matter the subject—were filled with passion. conviction. you believed in it, and mingi immediately recognized you as one of them. an artist.

you arrived an half hour earlier, wanting to gain your bearings before being presented with whatever business opportunity awaited you. seonghwa met you at the door.

“of course,” seonghwa replied following your brief self introduction. he seemed kind, reliable, and had already set off at work to make you more comfortable.

“what do you do around here…seonghwa?”

he gestured vaguely at the makeshift office surrounding you two. “behind the scenes stuff.”

you expected this answer the least. seonghwa was probably the most beautiful man you have ever seen in your life, and you were baffled as to how khj studios bagged someone like him when he could very easily be a mainstream celebrity. and then he tells you he’s only there to do paperwork?!

“i’ve known hongjoong forever. he said i was the only person he trusted with his money,” seonghwa leaned back in his chair and laughed softly. lying in his lap was a manila file folder, a couple sheets of paper notably sticking out from the sides. you could barely make out its text but you figured it must have something to do with you.

this was an audition, after all. and you couldn’t believe your luck.

mingi contacted you first. or rather, daddylongdick99. your eyes rolled when the message first arrived inside the inbox. it wasn’t abnormal to receive an influx of emails after you posted a new video—usually invitations for collaborations, desperate pleas for you to cream on them, or otherwise incoherent strings of words typed by a man who undoubtedly had one hand wrapped around his dick.

in actuality, daddylongdick99’s message hadn’t piqued your attention enough to open it. days passed without any response from your end. mingi was growing impatient—what was taking you so long? the letter was beautifully written and quite provocative. mingi knew you were at least somewhat aware of him, your circles running close in this industry niche. what more did you want from him, proof that he was the real deal?

the next day, he sent you another message. it was the first to show up when you checked your inbox for the day, and you were unexpectedly pleased to see the familiar username. the body of this message was empty except for two images. neither of his face—mingi hadn’t thought that far ahead. image one was a mirror shot: a figure sat on the bed, thick and rideable legs spread. his cock rested lazily against his chiseled abdomen. it was gorgeous, well groomed and reaching just above his belly button despite only being somewhat aroused. the flash from his phone obscured his upper body in the mirror.

in image two, the figure was lying down. the mirror replaced with his large hands choking his cock. his fingers were adorned in black and white silver rings. the camera flash reflected vividly off of the slick surface of his member, which now stood fully erect. shaft perfectly straight and longer than average, you noticed the vein pattern on the underside seemed tailor made to provide the perfect texture along anyone’s inside walls. the motion of the photo showed he was mid stroke, aided with a substance that looked equally of lube and semen.

daddylongdick69 was far from an exaggeration.

mingi’s plan technically worked—you still had zero idea who he was (and he’d be the first to acknowledge the apparent hubris of believing you would just from the sight of his penis). but you remembered the first message you brushed off the other day, quickly searching through your inbox to locate it.

upon spotting nothing more than a block of text, you were disappointed to say the least. but a name at the very end stood out to you. the fine hairs on your neck perked at their roots.

“song mingi. signed under khj studios.”

your breath hitched. kim hongjoong was an established indie pornographer, lovingly nicknamed “erotica’s darling”. his operation was relatively small, but he dominated when it came to producing depictions of sexuality akin to a choreographed dance. where the characters were as integral to its enticing style as the stars who portray them. you adopted a similar philosophy when you began filming, and had spent quite some time honing your skill for framing intimacy and intercourse in a way that told stories.

you knew of song mingi—one of khj’s principle actors. unfortunately, not enough to recognize the sight of his magnificent cock. but due to hongjoong’s secretive entry process for new talents, his roster was pretty small. it was rumored that hongjoong had to handpick you himself—his current team consisting potentially of people he met in bars or through random hookups. in any case, you were in awe at how in synch everyone was in delivering hongjoong’s art into the world.

the truth was far simpler. hongjoong wasn’t the most trusting person in the world, but he wasn’t in the cia either. to become a khj studio performer you kinda just had to be in the right place at the right time.

and there you were.

seonghwa briefly glanced at the clock on the wall—3:21 PM—before turning his attention back to you. he thought for a second, pushing himself up to his feet and walking to a corner of the office. there was a stationary camera set up on a tripod. removing the camera, seonghwa instructed you to sit on the couch in front of him.

“oh classic! the casting couch.” you quipped playfully. seonghwa laughed again. you were growing to like his laugh.

“i’m just getting your profile together with a few pictures. mind removing your clothes?” he uncapped the cover from the lens.

you raised an eyebrow quizzically, a bit alarmed by his urgency. you hadn’t even talked to hongjoong yet. you didn’t even know whether he was willing to give you the time of day.

sensing your uncertainty, seonghwa rested a comforting hand on your thigh. “you have something special. he’s going to love you.“ you both exchanged affirmative nods before you arose to strip.

it wasn’t exactly embarrassing to stand before seonghwa naked. your videos regularly garnered thousands of views—you sort of assumed most people in your niche have already seen you in a much more intimate state. but the way seonghwa looked at your body as he moved around you with his camera was deliberate and careful. he instructed you into various positions, each pose focused on different silhouettes and angles. seonghwa maintained a distance from you, as if photographing a one of a kind painting, too scared that any sudden movement would tear a hole in the precious canvas.

but you remained nervous nonetheless—as the afternoon progressed, you slowly realized how important this meeting was. if you wanted to build your credibility in the industry, this was it. and yet the exclusivity shrouding hongjoong in mystery left you with a thousand questions. you had yet to hear from anyone what you were meant to do today.

after a couple of shots, seonghwa had you sit down normally, knees together and facing him. he instructed you to look natural, explaining that he wanted to take the profile portrait. you followed his directions perfectly, though you had no idea what to do with your face, opting for a neutral but approachable expression.

to your surprise, seonghwa reached out to caress your cheek. he ran his thumb over your plump bottom lip, gazing down at you with a warmth you couldn’t quite place.

“still nervous?”

“no…”

“then where’s that smile, sweetheart?”

the door opened and in walked two new individuals, both of whom you knew without introduction, and both of whom looked down at the two of you with puzzled expressions.

“i don’t pay you to fuck the talent, hwa.” hongjoong remarked, annoyed. seonghwa capped his camera, rolling his eyes in your direction at his boss’s temperament.

mingi extended a hand to shake yours, “that would be my job, actually! nice to meet you.” you half expected someone with the username daddylongdick99 to carry himself with insufferable audacity. but mingi was very sweet and incredibly talkative, filling up most of your downtime while hongjoong and seonghwa deliberated over your pictures.

he knew a lot about your work. “i really loved the way you used gold to symbolize innocence. no matter what your character went through, her soul was never tarnished.”

“exactly…like pure gold.”

mingi nods enthusiastically.

you realized it right then—that these people understood your art just as much as they did hongjoong’s. you agreed to perform a scene with him, infinitely more comfortable now that you felt seen. mingi quickly stripped off his own clothes to match your state of undress. the two of you continued your discussion like old friends who casually arranged to meet for lunch.

“we’re sort of short on time right now. how ready are you?” hongjoong pointed at you, once again commanding everyone’s attention in the room.

“ready? i mean…very?” you shot a confused glance at mingi.

“he wants to know how wet you are, doll.”

“ahh.”

you didn’t even need to touch yourself to know you were soaked down to the cushion, but you inserted your hand between your thighs anyway, fingers glistening as they reemerged. hongjoong, seemingly satisfied with the state of your arousal, suggested knocking out two tasks at the same time—he would interview you and get a sense of your strengths as a performer while mingi worked to acclimate you to the size of his cock.

you perched yourself over him, positioning his tip to your entrance. it was on the larger end of cocks that have been inside you, though it wasn’t insanely intimidating. just as you steadied yourself to lower down, hongjoong began his interview.

name. hometown. years of experience. typical background information. you answered as clearly as possible, your mind alternating between hongjoong’s questions and the increasing fullness in your core. mingi’s eyes were fixed on yours, gauging your pain levels while rubbing comforting circles into your clit.

mingi was almost deceptively large, but you managed well. hongjoong asked whether you thought cum had any merit as an artistic medium on its own. sure. you lowered yourself a couple more inches.

“gah-fuck. yellow.” you inhaled sharply, stilling yourself. mingi took a hold of your waist, preparing to pull out though you hadn’t indicated that you wanted to stop completely.

“sorry…i…” the telltale signs of a blush bloomed from your cheeks. “you felt so good on my clit, i almost squirted.” you admitted, sheepishly.

the boys let out a collective sigh of relief. mingi couldn’t have felt prouder of himself, even after hongjoong smacked him on the side with a piece of mail within arm’s reach. after giving them the okay, you relaxed your pelvis before taking in the final few inches of mingi’s cock.

mingi sat upright to hold you against his chest as he bottomed out, instinctively whispering words of praise in your ear as he felt your walls adjust to his size.

“my babydoll did so good for me. so good.”

you moaned in gratitude.

“i knew you would. your sweet little cunt was made just for me, hm?”

as he spoke, seonghwa retrieved the tripod from its corner. he set it up right in front of you two—standing alongside hongjoong behind the camera.

hongjoong fiddled around with some video settings, “think of this like a screen test.”

mingi carefully reversed your positions on the couch with you now lying beneath him, his cock still resting pretty between your soaked folds.

“i want to see how well you two look together, and i want to see how quickly you can adapt to a scene.”

you and mingi nod eagerly.

“sometimes my vision isn’t exact. i need all of my performers to know when to improvise and keep the scene realistic.”

“in other words,” seonghwa shoots you a knowing wink, “he wants you to make up for his indecisiveness.”

hongjoong opted to ignore seonghwa’s snide comments, instead placing you and mingi in a scene within his work in progress production. you were a grieving woman who had lost your boyfriend years ago. as you fall into a depression, his friend remains by your side to support you during your journey to acceptance. once devoid of libido, you rediscover your sexuality with his help and decide in the end that loving him won’t replace your relationship with your boyfriend.

the most important part was portraying the intercourse in this scene as an outpouring of emotion. hongjoong motioned for mingi to set out on his pace before hitting record.

it didn’t take long for you to sink into character. you grasped at mingi’s hair, bringing him down into a deep kiss.

“fuck me, mingi. i want to feel you.” you gasped. he slowed down just a bit, allowing his length to take in the softness of your pussy and the way you clenched so perfectly around him. tears of pleasure threatened to spill over as your mouth dropped open, choking out a long moan.

“how is it now, doll? can you feel me?”

every fucking inch.

in an instant, he saw that spark in your eye—you were fully immersed. the details you worked into the scene left him in awe; your movements became more hesitant and unsure, in your grief you couldn’t possibly give yourself over completely to the pleasure. especially not with someone who meant so much to your deceased boyfriend. suddenly, your ears reddened. the lewd sounds of sex, the sweaty skin on skin, mingi’s moans as you fucked up against him and the involuntary force guiding your hips to chase your high—all of it was so embarrassing to your character.

hongjoong took notice, as well. he was no longer viewing the scene from the monitor hooked up to their camera. at some point, he had begun watching you intently. mingi was right, you were perfect at this. out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his partner. seonghwa’s hands cupped his jeans, undoubtedly attempting to hide the growing outline of his aroused cock from witnessing the scene before him.

mingi, overcome with a growing desire to protect and care for you, quickened his pace. every thrust a promise that he will always love you just as much as your boyfriend had. you trusted him enough to pin you down to the bed you shared with your boyfriend and fuck you senseless, but not enough to give him your heart? the thought made mingi tear up, and soon the both of you were bucking into each other desperately, whimpering through sobs, releases imminent.

“gonna cum…shit…gonna cum for you, doll. you feel so good around me. so ready for me.” mingi leaned in to suck on your jaw, searching for anything to ground him. he knew the most natural ending of this scene would be to cum inside of you. but he felt himself slipping—mingi never got pussydrunk on the job. cumming inside of you would cause something in his brain to snap.

your walls pulsated around him as your release came over you, soft “thank you”s pouring from your lips as you rode out your orgasm on his cock. mingi thanked his lucky stars that you came first, and was just about to end the scene before you leaned down next to his ear.

“please. please cum in me. make me yours.” you begged as you continued fucking yourself on his cock. he clenched his abdomen, but it was all too futile. for once, mingi couldn’t focus on the scene nor your acting. he was about to make you his.

“i love you,” was all he could manage before you felt him shoot load after load into your cunt. his semen mixed with your juices as it pooled onto mingi’s lap. as the two of you stilled, you took a second to rest your head on mingi’s chest, the faint vibration of his heartbeat tickling at your ear.

seonghwa was the first to break the silence. “well?” he prodded at hongjoong. “how was it?”

“i don’t know, ask yourself. this dork nearly came before either of you.” hongjoong retorted.

mingi carefully lifted you up from his lap, the sudden emptiness sending a chill down your spine. seonghwa removed a robe from a coat rack nearby before kneeling down in front of you. that same warmth on his face brought you down from your orgasm with ease. he took you by the hands and smiled.

“you were just amazing, our little star. now let’s get you cleaned up.” helping you up onto your shaking legs, he wrapped the robe around you and led you to a shower room across the hall.

hongjoong tossed a similar robe at mingi, not caring to be as delicate with his employee as seonghwa.

“where the fuck has talent like that been hiding?” he exclaimed exasperatedly once the two of you were out of earshot. mingi rubbed at the sweat on his chest with the robe before slipping it around his shoulders.

“dude, i told you she was good.”

“and you!” hongjoong continued, his volume growing louder at the opportunity take a dig at mingi. “i love you. i love you.”

mingi’s head fell in his hands at the mocking reminder of his brief moment of vulnerability.

“fuck off.”

part two coming soon

[A/N: if you made it this far, thanks for reading! this blog will be under construction over the next few days as i move things around to make a proper navigational page. i’m also getting a taglist together! if you are interested, please fill out this form!]

[wigglesdtuff]

I think I saw you say that Robin’s post-TS hairstyle was part of her character development reflected in her design (if that wasn’t you, my bad!) and I’d love to hear your expanded thoughts on it, and how that ties in with her Elbaf haircut now! After my friend said that her post-ts was just Croc’s ‘do but longer I haven’t been able to unsee it lol

That almost definitely was me because I feel very strongly about Robin's design journey and how Oda landed on the design he did and the way misinterpretations of her character because people want her to be nothing more than a hottie baddie femme fatale and *takes a deep breath* I know it's not that serious, but it means a lot to me!

Disclaimer: This is my personal interpretation, and I'm very passionate about it so take it all with a grain of salt!

So! Without further ado!

We can infer a lot about her haircut when she's introduced. Her face is covered/often in shadow from the hat which is intended to lend to the mystery of just who this woman is. We then see her first bounty poster. She's been wanted since she was 8. That's really fucking strange! Not only that but her haircut is nearly identical.

When she joins, she explains that she's more or less been on her own since she was 8, so you can infer that she's been cutting her hair like this herself. She's holding onto that moment where she had one friend she could rely on. She's literally stuck in the past. It looks almost choppy too, which to me tells me it's a quick utilitarian thing. It does not go past her shoulders.

Until she's been with the crew!

You can tell as early as Skypiea and through Thriller Bark, but it's super noticable in Sabaody just how long it grows to me. It's gotten super long!! She's letting them in by this point, she's found her home!

So when she comes back after being separated...

That change has fully taken hold! She's no longer covering her face either with a hat or her hair! She's more relaxed, she's almost always smiling unless something requires her full attention and even then she's Most Likely to Giggle and Verbally Heart Emoji. Her face is more open, it's softer. She's. Happy. She's changed in every meaning of the word! And she did it for her friends and for herself.

It's the most apparent to me in Zou. Like look at that face. That's the embodiment of joy. She's comfortable, she's relaxed. She's not hiding anything!

Then we hit Wano!

Miss Demonio dons the same old bangs and embodies the moniker her pursuers gave her. It is. Quite literally. The best of her and the worst of her. It is what she will do for the people she loves and who she has accepted love her. That is. Incredibly complex and beautiful to me.

Then we get some huge news...

Saul is not dead. The person who saved her and gave her hope and gave her the chance to get to where she is now, safe and happy and chasing the dream she picked up from the people of Ohara, so close she can almost taste it. He didn't die. He didn't die saving her.

She has

Come full circle. She has accepted her past and she is healing! Her bangs are the same, but her hair is still different! It's still longer, but it has a connection to that little girl who was lost and lonely. She also let someone else cut it, and not just anyone, but BROOK. The man who has kept his afro safe for 52 years so HIS friend could recognize him. To me, her hair in Elbaf is incredible. I take issues with the notion that "she's back" as if she ever left. This is new, this is different, and this is beautiful.

Thank you for reading my mini essay about her hair, but I really do think that character design means something. I don't think she's supposed to be a cold, badass. That was always an act. She just wants to love and be loved and she always has, and I think that her journey is portrayed beautifully by her hairstyles throughout the years.

[blood-smiles]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒, 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘 (YANDERE! LAWYER.. SFW- MDNI)

That damn maid. That goddamn maid had Alejandro crazy. Who did she think she was? Trying to get close to you? Getting all friendly with you. His darling. HIS darling.

He got rid of his ex wife, not much of a hassle really. Just a little of deception and a gentle push off a balcony was needed.

Now he had you all to himself, all his now. He thought he had made it crystal clear. He would smile as he noticed people looked at him differently now, they saw a man with purpose. Fearless and willing to do anything for his purpose.

A new hire had wormed his way into his manor, you oh-so innocently insisted for him to get at least one extra set helping hand around. 

He gave into your sweet eyes and pretty pleas so easily, when you made that face.. How could he not?

But it seemed he had a new pest in his hands now. It started with her trying to get into his pants but after a small meaningless threat she had decided to back off.

But then she realized that you meant more than a lot to Alejandro. she had a natural advantage of having such a doll like face and being a woman, so she latched onto you like a flea to a dog.

He seethed  as he watched her run her hands up and down your back and arms. You didn’t think much of it, so caring and so sweet. Of course you wouldn’t, you were sure of your place in Alejandro’s heart.

But Alejandro knew how easy you could be led astray by her lingering touches and tender words. After all, he had used the same method on you, but the difference was that he loved you. He did it all in the name of love, something pure and beautiful.

But this filthy harlot didn’t have the same intentions he did though. No, this was all twisted and wrong. She wanted to get back at him for cruelly insulting and rejecting her. The man saw how the maid smirked at him when she succeeded in making you laugh or flush in embarrassment.

Enough was enough.

The purple haired man sat beside you on a cloudy day, the both of you were enjoying a savory meal he had prepared for you. He gently wiped your face when you smeared food on your cheek. 

If it was anyone else he would be appalled, a grimace on his elegant features.

But in his eyes you looked so happy and cute, of course there are exceptions for you!

Then tragedy struck, Annalise, the new maid had ‘accidentally’ spilled a pitcher of water on her uniform while bringing it to the both of you.

Water splashed over you and her, and to his disgust, she landed on you. Chest pressed against your face and arms wrapped around your shoulders for stability.

She smiled at you with feigned embarrassment, apologizing meekly as she looked down at you.

“G-GET OFF HER!” Alejandro uncharacteristically yelled, grabbing her hands, prying them off your shoulders. His own arms flying to hug you tightly against his chest this time, looking at the woman like she had just dropped poison in your tea.

Annalise looked up at him, a calculating look in her eyes. She was about to begin with those sad puppy eyes. Repulsive. It was repulsive and vile how she thought that she could manipulate you into feeling bad for her, with those crocodile tears of hers.

She turned around and ran away, hoping that you would trail after her and offer your sweet condolences to the woman.

“Alejandro! What is the matter with you? Look! You made her cry!” You exclaimed, turning to him, not anger, but disappointment in your eyes. 

You tried to pry his arms off you, he was significantly taller and stronger than you, your shoves against him feeling like the playful paws of a puppy against his chest.

He dragged you away to a room inside the large house. Closing the door behind him before grabbing you again.

Tears welled in his eyes, eerily quiet as he held onto you for dear life. He shook his head, his ruby like eyes not leaving your form.

His shoulders shook in frustration. In longing.

He suddenly lunged, arms wrapping around your own, his biceps pinning your arms to your hips, making it impossible to move.

“Don’t.. Don’t leave me! She—She is lying! That prude witch is trying to steal you from me!” 

His tone was desperate, the delicate and professional glasses on his nose bridge sliding down, the lenses becoming fogged and wetted by his salty tear drops.

“P-Please.. I’ll do anything! I’ll make her disappear if you want, do you want that? She won’t be able to take you away from me if she is gone first!” He dropped to his knees, hands gripping the flesh of your calves tightly.

“I’ll be good! I promise— I-I’m a loyal mutt for you! I will always be devoted to you! You have my leash in your hand! Don’t leave with her, I beg you!” He exclaimed, tears running down his face. Lips beginning to bleed from the force he was biting down with.

“You are mine! Only mine! And..And I swear with my life that I am yours! I will provide for you and protect you! What can that disgusting wench go for you? Nothing at all! I’m all you need, all you need is at your feet!” 

He laughed, tears still streaking his face, madness circling in his eyes in spirals. His pale hands unbuttoned his dress shirt enough to expose his chest, pressing his soft skin against your leg.

You felt the pounding of his heart against your leg, his chest red from his own nails clawing at it. As if wanting to rip his heart out in an act of love, to prove that he was willing to give up his own life for you.

He gasped out between soft sobs, the skin below his eyes and tip of his nose turning a pretty red from crying. Taking shaky breaths, waiting to see what your reaction was.

You stared down at him, not expecting this sudden outburst from him, one of the most calm and collected men you had ever met. He kept his emotions controlled to a T, never would he let anyone see vulnerability from him, he had everything puppeteered to a precise and perfect point.

It was unexpected, to have him at your feet desperate for your attention and approval. Having a meltdown and a fit of jealousy and insecurity.

He was such a pretty crier. You knew this because of the passionate love nights the two of you would have. The only difference this time was that he wasn’t crying out of pleasure, but out of envy and frustration.

You lifted an arm, gently placing it on his head, your fingers beginning to thread through his soft straight hair. Making small braids in his hair in an attempt to calm him down.

His bruising hold on your leg softened as he leaned his head against your hand. 

“You’re so strange.” You finally spoke, smiling down at him.

“I love you, Alejandro. I’m already bound to you in every way, I thought you knew this well already.” You assured, hand leaving his head and instead dragging down to his face, taking his glasses from his face and cleaning them with the hem of your shirt.

“You get jealous over such silly things.” He looked up at you with admiration, moments like this solidified his belief that you truly were the one for him. His other half. 

You gently placed his glasses back on his nose, gently pushing them up for him. 

Alejandro pushed you down to his level, embracing you in a tight hug yet again. His chin resting on the top of your head as he relished in your warmth.

He closed his eyes, relief spreading throughout his chest at the reminded that he didn’t have any competition. You, the apple of his eye weren’t going anywhere.

Perhaps it was time to put that snake-like bitch’s head on a stick, then maybe that will make a statement that you were off limits. ♥︎

[heich0e]

there's saliva dripping down rin's chin.

he doesn't realize it at first. though conscious of the way it's been pooling in his mouth, he didn't notice when it began slipping out at the corner of his lips—thanks largely to how his teeth are bared. he's barely concerned by it, even when he does realize, scrubbing at the edge of his jaw with the sleeve of his expensive suit as he pants raggedly.

his eyes are still fixed to the door.

you're cowering in the corner behind him, your body curled into itself as you tremble, the scent of you polluting the air so thickly that rin forgets what it feels like to pull in a breath that doesn't taste of you.

there's glass shattered across the floor from where he'd just sent a vase—an expensive looking one—flying at the man who'd wandered in, no doubt following the trail of pheromones you'd left in your wake. the unsuspecting man had stumbled back in shock, though he hadn't been directly hit, and quickly retreated when he caught sight of rin.

"are you that much of an idiot?" the alpha before you hisses, but doesn't dare turn to face your way. his eyes are glued so firmly to the door he's not sure he could tear them away if he tried. he's not sure if he did look away that he'd be able to will himself to look back again. "what self-respecting adult can't even keep their heatcycle in check?"

"i have... i have a suppressant implant." your breaths are shaky, a wet staccato that makes rin's stomach turn. "i don't know... what's ha-aaah-ppening to me."

the little moan that bleeds into your words sends another wave of saliva flooding into his mouth.

"fucking ridiculous," he snarls.

the trousers of his suit are unbearably tight.

"itoshi-san," you mewl from behind him. a plea, though neither of you are quite sure what you're begging him so sweetly for.

"shut up," rin snaps. "just fucking—fuck."

"i need... i need—" you can't even get the words out. what you need is a suppressant. you need to get out of here.

what you want right now is something else entirely. something instinctive and carnal and obscene.

"cover your nape," rin manages to spit. his jaw is aching. his entire body is tense. he can feel his pulse pounding underneath his tongue. there's no change in how thickly your scent permeates the air and his head snaps around to face you. "cover. your fucking. nape."

you lift a hand and weakly press it to the back of your neck, your heavy lidded gaze meeting his. you look delirious, only half-conscious in your haze. there's a sheen of perspiration on your skin, a glow that catches in the dim light of this tiny room.

your lips part like you're about to speak, and rin finds his muscles coiling as though preparing to unconsciously inch closer.

"oh, wow."

a bloodlust blooms in the pit of rin's stomach, racing up his throat. a merciless, undiscerning urge to rip and tear. he whips around towards the voice, and finds sae's cold, steady gaze waiting for him.

"easy," his brother chides, lifting his hand in a dismissive wave. his eyes flicker to you, still curled up on the ground behind rin, and there's the subtlest shift in the elder itoshi's expression. wordlessly, sae pulls a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, holding it over his nose.

rin feels a growl building in his chest as his brother steps closer.

"down, boy," sae says coldly as he steps past, and though rin can't be sure because of the handkerchief, but he's almost certain his brother is sneering.

his pulse is so loud in his ears, he misses some of the softer words sae says to you as he crouches over you behind his brother's back. when rin finally turns, he sees sae press a small tablet between your lips with his fingertips, then uses that same hand to gently hold your mouth closed until you swallow.

"good girl," the eldest itoshi murmurs, and it's only a few moments more until you shift forward into his touch—like your body's gone limp. rin watches as sae lifts you into his arms, turning back in the direction of the door.

he doesn't consciously step into his brother's path, but somehow rin finds himself there all the same. the brothers stand face to face for a fraught moment, the air between them still thick with the scent of your pheromones and crackling with unspoken tension.

rin feels that ugly, vicious feeling clawing up in his chest again. angry. domineering. ravenous.

"run along now, rin," sae dismisses him coolly. the way his brother's hand pats against your temple makes rin feel violently ill. "i can look after my own things from here."

[yandere-romanticaa]

icon credit.

Thousands upon thousands of kisses were exchanged in the bathhouse as Phainon held his beloved in his arms, a loopy grin on his face, his lover not faring any better. The water rippled beneath them as they shamelessly slobbered all over each other in public, much to the bewilderment or amusement to any onlookers.

And Mydei was most certainly not amused.

"You two disgust me." Mydei seethed as he took a handful of the nearby bathwater and brutally splashed the two lovebirds. Happy little noises turned into shouts and complaints, the couple now completely drenched from head to toe as the handsome blonde crossed his arms, an annoyed look on his face. His red eyes gleamed with putridity as he mumbled Krenoan curses underneath his breath, before he finally decided to speak once more in the common tongue.

"Sick freaks..."

However, the pair only ignored them, Phainon in particular as he immediately reached out to his sweetheart, big strong arms enveloping them in a sickeningly sweet embrace as he kissed the crown of their head, his soft blue eyes gleaming underneath the many lights.

Mydei continued to observe the pair as he stood tall in the bath, water dripping down his toned body as he thought back to all the times he caught the stupid lovebirds in their shenanigans. He felt a vein wanting to pop at how he had to drag his rival by the ear in order for him to just listen to common sense or how he sometimes had to cover your mouth with his massive hand in order to get you to just keep quiet for a few moments.

Frankly, Mydei found himself being a little bit... disturbed at how inseparable you two were.

It was normal for a couple to want to spend every waking breath together, he knew that much. Endless gifts, ridiculous proclamations of love, petty spats, it all came into the territory known as romance.

However, his keen eye noticed that the line of sweet romance would be crossed one too many times.

Mydei kept track of how jealous you'd get of the attention Phainon would receive, how petty you would act towards the people who would even try talking to the man. At first he chalked it up to regular jealousy but one time he found himself literally stopping you from verbally clawing out another person's neck for simply giving Phainon a compliment.

With the way your hands were twitching, he was not even so sure that it would have been just a verbal assault...

He also recalled how he caught Phainon tracking you in the city as you did your daily rounds in the market, and he would naturally explain it all away as pure coincidence. Phainon was the type of man who could fool anyone - sharp words, kind eyes and frankly, a handsome physique made him easily to trust. And besides, a doting lover always looks out for the apple of their eye, right?

Even if that lover in question would linger in the shadows like a phantom in the night? Even if he always looked as though he was ready to slash anyone who got too close to you for his own comfort?

Mydei suddenly felt his blood run cold as he broke out of his dazed state. The white haired Chrysos Heir gave him an eerie look, those haunting blue eyes boring deep into Mydei's scarlet ones like the sharpest daggers known to man. He looked less like a person and more like a wild animal ready to lunge at him at any given moment.

The heat of the bath did not soothe Mydei's worries either as the thick fog of the warm air only made the gut wretching stare even worse than it ought to be.

Mydei carefully tracked Phainon's movements as he noticed him grabbing his black cloak and putting it over you, shielding you fully now from his view. Mydei raised an eyebrow at that until he realized the heart of the issue.

He should not be looking at you.

With a slow gulp he turned his head in a different direction, trying to look nonchalant but he knew that he was caught red handed.

Mydei wondered if Phainon was going to do something right now in the bath.

Even with his head turned he still felt that horrible gaze on him, almost swallowing him whole as he caressed his darling in his arms, as if he was daring him to glance back once more.

Mydei did not dare as a matter of fact.

He was worried about where this was going, how this strange saga even started or if it was even going to end at all. Never in his lifetime had he witnessed such a disgustingly clingy couple, two people so obsessed with each other that it almost wanted to make him run for the hills.

For now though, it was in his best interest to act like he saw nothing. He was still going to keep an eye on the pair just in case someone gets hurt but...

With the way things are headed, it's bound to happen sooner rather than later.