#we all know how stupid it is to be that exposed

[fangirlingatthreeam]

You know what, I don't care how annoying you think it is, all of you can stop with your elitist bullshit. I have no idea how other countries can look at Americans, who are directly telling them that they are under an oppressive propaganda machine, and tell them to quit whining because other people have it worse. To tell them to stop talking about how bad we have it and just get over it.

Shut the fuck up. Our people are dying. They are dying and we can't escape it. Our people are being disappeared. The government is attacking our universities, our schools, our media, everything. The government has spent decades actively convincing Americans that we are the best and everyone else is terrible. They are banning books, they are shutting down research, they are censoring foreign news from reaching us.

And we are fighting against that. We are actively fighting the rising fascism, propaganda, government and military human rights violations, censorship, all of it!

We are not privileged to not know anything about the world. We are not privileged to be so cut off from common knowledge that it seems baffling to you. But the gods for-fucking-bid you actually have to listen to Americans scream about how we are, in fact, being oppressed.

This is not the oppression Olympics, and I'm tired as fuck of hearing about how all Americans are terrible people because our government wants us ignorant. Yes, other countries have terrible educations systems and awful governments, but that doesn't mean we can't talk about ours. Does it make you feel better? Superior? Do you think for one minute that your generalizations about why people don't know shit about the outside world are in any way helpful?

If it was any other country, you'd be concerned. If someone from North Korea said the same thing, you would see it as proof they live under a dictator in a horribly censored state. You'd be concerned for them.

But not if it's Americans. No, if it's Americans, it's because we're elitist, stuck up, privileged pigs who choose blind ignorance over worldly knowledge.

Americans are so literate, yes of course, so we can read all about how other countries are terrible backwards places with no real society. How. Fucking. Great.

We aren't taught about anything outside the US, we aren't given access to it. Fucking. Nothing. We don't see foreign news, we don't read foreign books, rarely are we exposed to foreign culture especially now that doing any of those things can get you put on a list and disappeared.

And somehow, you've convinced yourself that the fact a grown ass person didn't know about metropolitan cities is privilege instead of fucking concerning.

Yes it should be common knowledge. Obviously. No we shouldn't use ignorance as an excuse not to learn. But for five seconds, just five fucking seconds, can we give the poor stupid Americans the benefit of the doubt?

As our people are taken and sent to death camps by an orange dictator, as our people are sent to prisons, as they are killed and brutalized. As they are banned from learning, as our schools are censored, as our scientific research is defunded, as our arts disappear, can we for FIVE FUCKING SECONDS quit shitting on Americans for being raised in the kind of political, educational hellscape they are without saying it's all their fault they're stupid?

"Everyone knows-" No. Most Americans don't see other countries. They don't interact with foreigners. They don't consume foreign media. And when confronted with seemingly obvious facts, it slaps them in the face because they'd never once been taught to question that knowledge. And when they try to learn, they get shit on for daring to be ignorant.

Americans are trying. They are Trying. Fuck off.

im american and i knew that like in kindergarten so i think some of you are just stupid sorry

[irritatedirishfrog]

"𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑, 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐗"

— 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳

CONTENT: how some of the wind breaker boys would react if you told them that you wanted to get pregnant.

[ ᯓ Someone help me PLS! I can barely write. I'm pretty sure that if my lively hood was contingent on making enjoyable NSFW tings, I'd be a goner. This is probably as close as I'm getting to it, SO Y'ALL BE GRATEFUL! ᯓ ]

✓ requested by anon

✓ warning, poorly written work

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ SAKURA was flustered immediately, having no idea what to think. What did you mean you wanted a freaking baby? Like—a real one? The ones that stay in your stomach for nine months before getting an eviction notice? No, that couldn't be what you meant. Why would you ask that? And with him of all people? Were you blind? Have you seen him? He must have misheard you, his subconscious throwing him a curveball yet again.

It had to be that, it would make sense—especially given all the dreams his brain was forcing him to have recently and whatnot. It wouldn't be entirely surprising that the thought came to mind. But still, what?

"... Say that again?" He muttered, silently praying he wasn’t losing it.

"I want to have a baby with you."

His face twisted instantly in silent confusion, and you scowled in response. He looked like he might throw up, but really, he just felt exposed. The way you said that so casually—he wasn’t ready for it, it made him feel all hot. He wasn’t used to hearing words like that out loud. And, well, he had thought about it before. He just forced himself to brush it off as a stupid idea.

Hearing it come from you was shocking to say the least, and he'd rather not think about giving in like that.

“If you don’t like the idea, just say I’m talking out of my ass and we’ll drop it,” you huffed, eyes flicking back down to whatever game you were playing on your phone previously.

... Wait

... What?! What did you mean by that?! You can't just drop some crazy shit like that on his head and then tell him to choose! Were you insane?! What kind of emotional whiplash was that!?

"Huh!?" Sakura blurted, his face burning even redder. The reaction pulled a small smile from you, but you were already distracted again by your screen.

"It's okay."

"W—what's okay!?"

"If you don't want a baby," You chuckled. "I was only thinking about it."

And then it was quiet. The silence made Sakura’s chest tighten with anxiety. You looked unbothered—calm, like you didn’t even care about his response, despite clearly wanting one. But he still wasn’t entirely sure if this was real or just some weird prank.

Would you think he was weird if he said yes right away? If he let you know just how desperate he actually was to give you what you wanted?

He was always a sucker for you, after all. But it was worse than that—he’d quietly caught baby fever a long time before you. Ever since he saw you helping a little lost kid, gently guiding him back to his parents, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you as a mom. The only problem was... he wasn’t sure he’d make a good dad. Should he take it as a sign that you asked him for this first? He isn't sure.

“Why?”

“Hm? Why what?” you asked, glancing up from your phone.

“There… Well, th-there’s a chance that if we had a kid… it’d look a little bit like me, right?” Sakura mumbled, eyes dropping as he tried to hide how nervous he was. He shouldn't be like this, not in front of you.

“Would you really want a baby that kinda looks like a freak?”

You didn’t respond right away. Just blinked at him as he kept his eyes downcast.

You forgot sometimes—how much he struggled with that. The stares, the comments, all because of his differently colored hair and eyes. Traits that made him stand out, often in the worst ways. But you were pretty sure those same traits caught good attention, too. After all, he had friends. He had a place at Bofurin. And—he had you. A pretty girlfriend. Or, at least, you hoped he thought you were pretty.

“…Y’know,” you finally said, turning off your phone and standing up, “I wouldn’t be asking for a baby if I thought you were a freak.”

Sakura closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath to steady himself. He shouldn’t be feeling this weird about it. You asked a question—he should’ve just answered. It’s just… he really wanted a baby. But he was too self-conscious to admit it. Too unsure that he’d be good enough. He didn’t think he was even boyfriend material half the time—though you seemed delusional enough to believe he was.

“Honey,” you said gently, “look at me.”

His face burned at the sound of your voice. He barely cracked his eyes open before squeezing them shut again from embarrassment. You were standing in front of him now, your eyes intense enough to swallow him whole. Without a word, you reached out. Your hand touched his, then slowly intertwined your fingers with his.

That simple gesture sent a shiver through his entire body, but he didn’t hesitate to squeeze your hand back, tightly—like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I love you,” you breathed, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “You know that, right? That’s why I asked. And I think you look perfect.”

“…I… I know. I—I love you too,” Sakura whispered, his voice barely audible.

But his blush had mostly faded now. That had to mean something. You weren’t sure what exactly—but there was something different about him now. A look of quiet determination had settled in his eyes, like he was suddenly planning something.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something?” you asked, raising a brow as he stared past you, seemingly lost in thought.

“Nah… It’s nothing… I think.”

Nope. Definitely something.

But before you could press him on it, he suddenly grabbed your arm and kissed you. Hard. Maybe a little too hard. But enough for you to feel it deep in your chest—a rush of heat flooding through you. He understood what you meant earlier, and this was him answering, in his own, overwhelmed way.

“Do you want a baby right now?” he murmured against your lips, watching with interest as your eyes widened. His usual shy, fumbling self had vanished, replaced with this strange, intense confidence.

“You’d want one too? Really?”

“Yeah, I should be the one asking that. I still can’t believe you want one with me,” he scoffed, kissing you again before pulling away and reaching for his jacket. Though in your defense, you weren't used to him initiating any sort of physical touch either. Apparently it was your turn to get flustered. The blush had returned on his face after her saw yours, but it was softer now—a light, pink hue, no longer boiling red.

“But we’re not doing it here. Your place is less run-down.”

“Does it really matter where we try to have the baby?” you giggled—only to be cut off with another kiss as he grabbed you and tugged you toward the door.

“Hell yeah, it matters. I don’t wanna have a baby here. Now c’mon,” he muttered.

“You’re acting like the baby’s already in there, dummy,” you snickered, poking his cheek and making him flare up all over again. “Maybe I should bring this up more often, huh?”

“Sh-shut up,” he grumbled—but you didn’t miss the soft smile tugging at his lips as the two of you stepped out of his apartment together.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ SUO didn’t believe you at first—he just blinked at you like you were the one who was confused. To be fair, you were drunk. Not just a little tipsy either—scarily intoxicated. Honestly, he was impressed you were still conscious. Technically, it was your fault. But then again, could he really blame you?

"A baby?"

"Yeah! A small one, that's all cute and squishy." You grinned, your words mushing together as you mumbled out some other stuff. "And we can buy the baby a cute little eye patch to match with yours."

You probably didn’t expect your friend to drag you to the sketchiest part of town and then vanish. At least she had the decency to call him afterward, claiming she had to leave for a family emergency. Still, the fact that she left you behind in a place like this made Suo question her legitimacy as your friend.

And you—you hadn’t realized that some of the locals were trying to drug you. All it took was a glass of “expensive wine” that was really just beer spiked with a disturbingly unhealthy amount of sugar followed by all sorts of incapacitating drugs.

“Just to taste,” they’d said, “so a pretty girl like you can give us some advice on how to make the wine better.”

At least that's what the younger man had said had happened, Suo was quick to kick the leaders neck hard enough to knock him out.

You were a little naive, he knew that much. Soft-hearted. You turned into putty in someone’s hands the moment they made you feel special. Even though you were loyal to him, compliments from anyone still made you glow.

“Also, there was this lovely scarf I saw near here, but I didn’t have enough money to buy it!” you rambled, your voice dreamy and slurred, as if you hadn’t just tell him to get you pregnant in the middle of a crowded sidewalk.

Sweet, clueless thing. You were going to be mortified when you remembered all of this tomorrow. Suo, surprisingly, wasn’t embarrassed. He probably should’ve been, but he didn't feel like he was. This was a terrible place to wander around aimlessly, especially when you didn’t know what you were doing. He’d come fully prepared for a full on fight if anyone tried to stop him from retrieving you—so much so that he brought both Sakura and Nirei along for backup.

And now, those poor bastards had to stand there and listen to his girlfriend shamelessly ask him for a baby.

“Please don’t mind her,” Suo said, turning to his friends with a calm smile. “She’ll be fine once she gets some rest.”

"Seriously, what did she even drink?" Sakura muttered, face beet red as he stole another glance at you. “Was it just alcohol or pure ethanol?”

Sakura was clearly flustered by your drunken boldness. The way you’d said it had sounded almost romantic, which only made it worse. Meanwhile, Nirei was grinning like a kid at a comedy show, clearly finding the whole thing adorable.

“Hayato, take me home, please,” you whined, pulling away from his hand to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “I’m tired, I’m hungry, and my feet hurt!”

Suo just smiled gently, his voice calm and certain. “Don’t worry. We’re going home.”

He then adjusted his hold on you slightly, one arm steady around your waist as you leaned more of your weight into him, your head nestled lazily against his shoulder. You were heavy in that drunk, warm way that only made people more pliable. Almost like a sleeping cat.

"Anyway, we’ll leave you two to it. I don't think she needs an audience right now.” Nirei gave a two-fingered salute, still grinning ear to ear. “She’s wild when she isn't sober, man. It's funny, just know that we're praying for you.”

Suo nodded. “Thanks for coming. Get home safe.”

"Text us if you need backup!" Nirei added over his shoulder as he and Sakura started down the sidewalk.

Then for a moment, it was quiet. Just the two of you now, standing under the halo of a flickering streetlamp. You swayed slightly, then yawned like a baby bear, your grip on him tightening again.

“Home,” you mumbled. “I like our bed. It smells like you.”

His heart squeezed a little. Damn you. Even drunk off your mind, you somehow knew exactly how to say things that made it impossible for him to stay annoyed.

"Of course, princess."

You sighed against his shoulder. “Hayato,” you mumbled, almost too soft to hear. “Do you think the scarf’s still there?”

He glanced down at you, your hair sticking slightly to your forehead, your lips parted just enough to let the question float out like a drifting balloon.

“I’ll get you a scarf,” he promised. “Not from here though. A prettier one. And something warmer.”

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Make sure it’s bright. The woman at the fabric tent said that bright colors will look good on me.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I'll do that.”

You didn’t respond, just tightened your arms around him like you might dissolve if you let go. He didn’t rush you either. You'd trip once in a while over your own feet, muttering curses under your breath, but he'd catch you every time—making sure you were stable before continuing. He was a very patient person after all.

Suo looked down for a moment when you leaned more against him. You were still latched onto him like a human koala, your face smushed into his chest.

“Mmm...you feel like warm bread,” you murmured.

He snorted. “I feel like sweat and stress.”

“You always feel nice to me,” you mumbled, completely oblivious to how that sounded.

Suo shifted you a little to help you walk without tripping over your own feet. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get moving before you fall asleep standing up.”

You trudged beside him, holding onto his arm, your heels clicking unevenly against the pavement. Every few steps, you’d either hum something off-key or dramatically sigh, like a tragic heroine in a play.

"So, did you think about it?"

He blinked, looking down at you. “About what?”

“The baby thing.” You looked up with eyes too wide and honest for someone who could barely say the alphabet right now. “I think you’d be a good dad. You’re good at being kind to people and protecting me.”

Suo laughed—actually laughed, the sound low and rare. “That’s your criteria?”

“Mhm. You’re also nice to animals and you never forget to bring me snacks. So can we have a baby now?”

“You’re drunk, so no.”

“Just because I'm drunk doesn't mean I don't mean it.” You whined, almost on the verge of tears already.

He sighed, but there was no irritation in it—just that soft kind of exhale people give when they know they’ve lost. Because he had been secretly thinking about it ever since you said it. They always say that a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts, or something like that.

So, had you been thinking about this for a while then?

"So you have to promise me something then," You yawned. "When I'm not drunk anymore, that we'll have a baby."

"I have to?"

"Yeah! Pinky promise." You held up your hand, poking out your pinky finger for him.

Suo sighed, propping you up more against him as he got to the front of their house. Something in him wanted to agree, mostly due to the fact that you had riled him up. But even so, he had enough discipline to keep himself in check... You just looked so damn cute though.

Now he wanted a small baby that was all squishy and cute.

"I won't promise that," Suo started, grabbing your hand before kissing the back of it. "But I promise that when you're better in the morning, if you still want a baby, we'll make a baby."

"... Really?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind being a baby daddy." Suo kissed the top of your head. "I'd mean you'd stay with me, wouldn't it?"

"I'd stay with you anyway." You simply giggled, hugging him tighter and warming his heart.

"Alright, come on now. We need to get you to bed."

You giggled as he opened the door to your house and helped you in. “Hayatoooo… you love me, right?”

“Unfortunately.”

“You dooo!”

He sat you down on a stool in the hallway and a second later, shut the front door with a click. Though his smile lingered.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ NIREI felt his face grow warm, stumbling over his words as he tried to process what you’d just said. A baby? That had to be a joke—something ripped straight from a fever dream after getting his ass handed to him.

“Come again?” he blinked, bewildered.

“I want a baby.” You shrugged casually, your cheeks tinged pink, though your smile stayed bright. "Can we try now? Or should I wait until you're not busy?"

...Now?

Nirei flushed even deeper, his skin nearly as hot as the fiery yellow strands framing his cute, startled face. His hazel eyes widened—like a deer caught in headlights. Sure, he got flustered sometimes, but no one got under his skin the way you did.

“D-did you just say—?” he stammered, waving his hands like he could somehow cool the heat rising in his cheeks. “I don’t— I mean, I do want one, but—did you mean now? Like, right now? That’s—”

You cut him off with a soft smile, slipping your hand into his and stepping closer. Leaning in, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his blush bloom beneath your lips.

“Akihiko,” you whispered, using his name like a secret. As always, he gasped quietly at the sound of it. No matter how long you'd been together, he never quite got used to hearing his name from you.

“I want a baby with you,” you murmured.

You pressed another kiss, this time to the center of his brow, as your arms curled around him, pulling him closer—closer still.

Nirei took a steadying breath, like he was bracing for impact, then gently tugged you even tighter against him, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. The two of you both had acknowledged that in the future, you'd want a baby. However, you've both been kind of ignoring anything past that.

“I want a baby with you too,” he mumbled, “but... don’t you think it’ll make your parents angry? They don't really like me..."

He was about to say more, but you silenced him with another kiss.

You smiled against his skin, feeling the way he trembled slightly in your arms. You knew he worried too much, especially about your parents—but none of that mattered to you. Not when he looked at you like this. Not when his arms around you felt more like home than anything else. Your parent's were just gonna have to suck it.

“They’ll live,” you whispered. “I love you. That’s enough for me.. They don't get a say in this, they'll have to get over themselves.”

You bit back a laugh and leaned in, brushing your nose against his. “Unless you’re getting cold feet, Akihiko?"

He made a soft, scandalized noise. “N-no! I’m not— I would never—”

You grinned mischievously, tightening your hold around him like you might never let go. “Good. Because I was serious about starting now.”

Nirei swallowed hard, face practically glowing at this point. “You’re gonna be the death of me...” he muttered, but the way he smiled—nervous and so full of love—gave him away completely.

Nirei’s breath hitched, and for a second, he just stood there, soaking in the plan and ignoring the fact that your father might come after his throat. Slowly, he pulled back just enough to look at you, searching your face like he was memorizing it, every little detail that made you you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

“I love you too,” he said, voice rough with emotion. “More than anything.”

You leaned into his touch, your heart swelling, and for a moment, neither of you said anything at all. The silence between you wasn't uncomfortable either, it felt right for some reason.

Then Nirei chuckled—a soft, nervous little sound. "I, um... I should probably take a shower first," he said, cheeks flushing again. "I kinda smell like I lost a fight to a brick wall."

You laughed quietly, threading your fingers through his hair. "Fine. But hurry up. I'm not changing my mind."

“I’ll be quick,” he promised, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before practically sprinting off, leaving you standing there, grinning like an idiot. And for the first time in a long while, he didn't look like he was frustrated with anything.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ UMEMIYA agreed immediately — almost too eagerly. He wasn’t even sure what came over him; something about the way you asked had him ready to jump at the chance. Unfortunately for you, any hope of keeping things low-key was dashed almost immediately. Despite your best efforts to keep the conversation quiet, Umemiya talked like one of those front desk clerks at the bank with the mini-microphones — just determined to announce your personal business to anyone within earshot.

"Hajime?! Shh!" you hissed, scrambling to cover his mouth with your hand. The two of you sat cramped together at a little table in Kotoha’s diner. It wasn’t packed by any means, but there were enough people lingering around — enough that even the tiniest bit of gossip would spread like wildfire. You could already hear it in your head: Baby out of wedlock? How irresponsible.

Umemiya whined against your hand, his eyebrows scrunching up like a kicked puppy before he pried your hand away — though he didn’t just move it; he laced his fingers through yours and held it there stubbornly.

"I don’t care if people hear," he said, voice loud enough to make you wince. "And you shouldn’t either! Everyone already knows we’re dating—"

"Dating and becoming parents are two completely different things, you moron!" you whisper-yelled, yanking your hand out of his with an exaggerated scowl. You were about two seconds away from socking him in the chest — not that it would do anything besides hurt your own hand.

Umemiya’s grip on your hand tightened, his voice softening in a way that you weren't expecting. He could be such a clown sometimes that you forgot just how serious and genuine he was as well.

"I mean it," he spoke, staring at you as if you were the only person in the world. "If it's with you... I don't care how hard it gets. I'll do anything. I want to start a family with you too."

You froze, heart tripping over itself at the sudden shift in mood. For a second, you didn’t know whether to throw a punch or start crying. But you could tell even now, that this would definitely be a topic of conversation in town. You didn't want that. This dumb ass is always embarrassing you, and yet you wanted to kiss him. Instead, you yanked your hand away again, harsher this time.

"You're such an idiot!" you snapped, pushing your chair back with a screech against the floor. Heads turned — of course they turned — but you were too flustered to care. Umemiya immediately stood up with you, confused and not having a clue what it was that suddenly irked you.

"I don't need you getting all dramatic about it! You don't even know what you're agreeing to!" you hissed, grabbing your jacket off the back of the chair before he could. Your chest felt too tight, and you didn’t know if it was anger, nervousness, or something else. Maybe all of it. Probably just love, love was always hard to understand.

"Wait, just hold on!" Umemiya gasped as he was about ready to try and hug you until you pushed him away, storming toward the door without a second glance.

The bell above the diner door jingled as you shoved it open and disappeared onto the street, leaving Umemiya standing there, looking like he had just been cursed out at in the middle of Kotoha’s diner.

Kotoha, who’d been wiping down the counter, didn't miss a beat. She sauntered over to his table, arms crossed, a knowing look on her face. This fighting man was crazy, he didn't understand his girlfriend at all.

"You," she said, flicking him in the forehead hard enough to make him wince, "are the dumbest person I've ever met. And I know at least three people who thought microwaving foil was a good idea, two of them being your friends."

Umemiya rubbed his forehead, practically sulking. "I didn’t mean to mess it up... I know she asked me to be here to talk to me, I just didn't realize that she felt having a kid was so serious." he muttered.

"Yeah, well, having a kid is serious and you did mess it up." Kotoha leaned on the back of a chair, staring him down. "You can't just throw around big words like that without thinking. You scared her off, dummy. Plus, you need to act more responsible, a baby can't have a baby."

"What do I do now?" He groaned, slumping against the wall, making a scene yet again in front of the few remaining customers left in the diner.

Kotoha simply shook her head before smirking, thank God almighty the two of them weren't actually related by blood.

"First? Get your sorry butt to the store and buy some chocolate. Good chocolate. Not that cheap gas station stuff either. Maybe get her a small flower bouquet too." She straightened up, pointing at the door like she was kicking him out. "Then, you’re gonna apologize. For being stupid. And for making a scene in my diner, by the way."

"Right. Chocolate. Apologize. Got it." Umemiya pushed the door open with a loud sigh, still not fully understanding, but taking Kotoha's words to heart.

Kotoha shook her head with a half-smile as he stumbled toward the door. Umemiya may never understand you fully, or not get on your nerves from time to time, but at the very least, he meant well.

"And make sure to smile after the fact," she muttered. "you're gonna need it."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ KAJI thought this might be the first time he was truly at a loss for words. He wasn’t one to talk much anyway, but when he did speak, he usually had a way of getting straight to the point. Efficient. Sharp. But now, he was just staring at you—expressionless—rolling the lollipop in his mouth like it could somehow settle the nerves buzzing in his chest.

He had even taken off his headphones so he could hear you clearly. Now, he kind of wished he hadn’t.

A baby? What for? Why? Were you serious? That was stupid. No—he was stupid. Stupid for even being considered. He wasn’t the guy you chose to parent with. Absolutely not. He had anger issues—barely managed to control himself when it came to discipline. The only thing he really knew how to do well was fight, and that sure as hell didn’t seem like a skill worth passing on to a damn baby, at least not now.

He was so quiet—so unnervingly still—that you started to wonder if maybe he hadn't heard you. Honestly, that could’ve been the case. You did tend to talk lower than you meant to, a bad habit really.

"...D-Did you hear me?" you asked, voice cracking a little at the end.

"Yeah... But why?" Kaji asked flatly, pulling the lollipop from his mouth with a soft pop He unintentionally made you want to evaporate on the spot, his words too emotionless, almost mechanical.

"Oh! Uh, no reason, really. Um… shoot, sorry. Forget I said anything."

Shit. He didn’t mean to make it sound like he was judging you. He was just… caught off guard. He hadn’t realized that 'baby fever' was, like, actually a thing.

He scrambled to his feet too fast and nearly rolled his ankle trying to stop you from leaving, catching your wrist before you could walk out. He forgot sometimes that you were a bit sensitive—that it took a lot for you to speak your mind. But you trusted him enough to do it. That meant something.

"Sorry," he murmured. "That's not what I meant. I just meant... why now? I’ve never heard you bring up babies out of nowhere like that."

"U-uhm, well, I just, uh—" you stammered, face practically on fire. "I… it’s your fault."

"...My fault." Kaji blinked, eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what you meant. But whatever logic you were hiding behind didn't make any sense. Then he let out a short laugh at your completely serious tone, though it was more so out of confusion than him being amused.

"What did I do?" he asked, showing genuine bafflement. "How is it my fault?"

"I saw you hanging out with some toddler at the playground." you whispered, cheeks burning hotter and looking at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

For a second, Kaji just stared at you like you’d grown another head.

"Wait... You’re serious?"

"... Well, not anymore."

"You wanna have a kid because you saw me making funny faces at some toddler?" he asked, eyebrows lifting.

You flushed, trying to wiggle your wrist out of his grip, though he didn’t let go.

"Y-You weren’t just making faces! You were... you were good with them!" you protested. "You were patient and you weren’t even grumpy about it, and he really liked you!"

Kaji made a low sound in his throat—something between a scoff and a groan—and dragged a hand down his face.

"God," he muttered. "You have baby fever, a made up sickness by the way."

You gave a wounded squeak and tried to yank your hand free again, but he caught it easily, tugging you a little closer instead. Close enough that you could see the embarrassed pink creeping up his neck, just under his collar.

"You’ve been thinking about it this much just ‘cause of that?" he said, eyes flicking down to your lips for a second before snapping back up. His voice dropped lower, teasing, but still a little rough. "Should I be worried you’re already pickin’ out baby names or something?"

"N-No! I haven't thought that much about it yet!" you sputtered.

Okay, you had maybe thought of one or two, but you were absolutely not going to admit that now.

He grinned—smirked, actually—the kind of smile he only pulled when he knew he had you cornered.

"You sure?" he said, leaning in just enough to make your heart hammer painfully against your ribs. "You look guilty."

You slapped his chest half-heartedly, face burning hotter. "I am not guilty," you grumbled, trying to shove him away. He didn’t budge. If anything, he looked way too entertained by the whole thing.

For a moment, you thought he might keep teasing you forever. But then, Kaji’s grin faded a little. He looked down at you—really looked—and something in his expression softened. His thumb brushed lightly over your wrist, almost absentminded.

"...If it’s you," he said quietly, "I don’t mind."

You blinked, stunned into silence.

"I’m not saying I know what the hell I’m doing," he went on, voice rough and a little unsure. "I’m not, like... dad material or anything. Probably wouldn’t win any awards."

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, glancing away.

"But if you want that… if you want me to do that with you…" He shrugged, like he was pretending it didn’t mean as much as it did. "Then yeah. I’ll try."

Your throat tightened. You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but the words caught. What were you supposed to say? Kaji made it sound like he'd practically give you the world if he could.

Kaji saw the way you struggled, and to save you the trouble, he leaned in and bumped his forehead against yours with a soft thud.

"Just... don’t start showing me tiny shoes and baby clothes yet," he muttered, barely hiding the laugh in his voice. "I need, like, a week to mentally prepare."

You snorted and shoved at him again, and this time, he let you. Mostly because he was grinning like an idiot the whole way, once again sucking on his lollipop but keeping his headphones off.

[askganon]

I very much don't understand you.

You claim to wish for Hyrule, yet you don't use your Hyrulean heritage to your advantage to leverage the fact that, by the simple fact that your father was likely Hylian, you automatically have a degree of claim for at least whatever land he owned upon his eventual death. Likewise, so would any & all other Gerudo by that same logic.

You reject Hylians, Hylian fathers specifically, yet get angry when Hyrule rejects you.

Not only that, but if the Gerudo truly wished for such, then why wouldn't they simply stay in Hyrule with the self-same Hyrulean men they sleep with in order to preserve your race? If those men are specifically one-night stands, then perhaps the Gerudo should learn to not go out looking for one night stands?

Maybe they should learn to not take their children from them & raise them solely as Gerudo?

I mean, how would you react if one of the women you slept with (let's say she was from Holodrum or some such) became pregnant, but rather than include you in any way, she ran & raised the child without your input at all?

What if that child was raised entirely as a Holodrum citizen & knew nothing of you, your people, or your culture?

This is why I don't understand you.

You are either very young, very naive, or very stupid. My instinct is to assume the latter, but for the sake of education I shall temporarily pretend one of the former. I hope you listen closely like a good student.

You first speak about my father, claiming to wonder why I do not rely upon his status as a Hylian to claim lordship over Hyrule.

This is because, for a start, I do not know him, his history, or his lineage to make any claim worth hearing. He could have been a pauper, a cobbler, a lord, or even a King. All are inconsequential to those in power. Were he a pauper, I would be no better than an urchin. Were he a King, I would be but a bastard, legally bereft of any royal claims.

Even were we considered Hylians in their eyes, that would not grant us what we seek. There are those in your realm that were brought their against their wills, torn from their families and forced to labor until your lands were the nation that came later. Can you tell me they are seen as true equals by your leading class?

I reject Hyrule and its leaders because they refuse to see my people as such unless we bow to them and call them superior. The other races might settle for such shame, but not the Gerudo.

You ask why some sisters do not remain in Hyrule with their mates. To this, I say that some, in fact, do.

There are some in my tribe that are blessed enough to find a mate that not only suits their needs, but earns their respect, and eventually their heart. These sisters are always welcome to stay with their mates for as long as they desire, bringing no shame upon themselves for creating a new life outside of our borders. It is enough for us that they continue our people and find their own peace.

But even then, they are not given a life free of care. There are many in Hyrule who look down upon Gerudo, figuratively. Such sisters who make lives in Hyrule are exposed to much bigotry and hatred. It can even become dangerous for them and their daughters, facing men who wish them harm and worse, with no sisters around to aid them. In some ways, life in Hyrule can be more hazardous than life in the desert.

And here is when my assumptions on your naivety and stupidity spawn. You ask next why we should only be with Hylian men for one night, as if it were some great shame that "perhaps we should learn to not do that".

I ask you why? Why should we have need to learn this? Do you think there is no separation between sex and romance?

Perhaps in the current age they go out seeking love, but that was not always so.

In my first era, we were a dying people. In order to survive, our sisters went into a land they were not wanted to procreate and keep our people alive. Many did this for the Gerudo as a whole, not for their own personal pleasure. Such Gerudo were hailed as heroes for their bravery.

It is one thing to have my people sleep with the enemy. It is another thing entirely to ask them to love. Many of my sisters entreated with Hylians no more than they had to, and I had no desire to ask more of them. To do so would have been an insult to every single Gerudo who fell because of them.

Were you in such a situation where you had to breed with one who was happy to see you die and your people and culture become extinct, would you do this? Further more, would you willingly spend a lifetime with them, knowing how they see you and how many of your own have died at their hands?

To answer your next question, would you willingly force your daughter to be raised by the same men who would treat her with the same disrespect they treated you? Or would you rather have her raised among people who understand your struggles, and let her know what is it to live without the dangers of predatorial adults?

Were I the father in such a union, I would prioritize my daughter's wellbeing before any of my other desires. If that would mean separation, then so be it.

To shed a sliver of light on a story from which many have been asking details, that would not be a first for me.

I hope now you have gained some understanding of my history, mindset, and culture.

If not, then perhaps my instincts were right about you.

[wild-at-mind]

If you ever see me becoming one of those transmisandry people, please fucking call me out immediately.

[pupslimes]

ive been on tumblr for a decade

i know all of this, i know the search sucks i know tagging sucks. i know exactly how little a post can be associated with a certain thing for it to end up in their results or on their page, etc. i also know that at the very least, when you stop maintagging that goes down. i also also know that a lot of my friends and myself have been in some way bullied or targeted for what we do. im not stupid. i know we're going to be hunted down for this shit regardless, i know what we do is for some reason some of the most controversial shit on this website, etc. i also know though, we become less of an easy target for people when we don't show up in the general tags *as often* as we would.

maybe it's a personal justice thing on my end idk. maybe it's a scrupulous issue. who knows. but it's coming from a place that i really feel like that's our first line of defense against harm towards the community. it's also a very commonly agreed upon take within the community, especially currently due to the fact that people have been getting targeted for it. and yes, i know that it's not our fault that we're being treated the way that we are and im not putting the blame on us, i just want to do what we can to protect from people who are not actively seeking us out. and i feel like it's a better defense of our stuff if it's only in our tags because at least there's evidence we try.

i don't care about minors particularly. as someone who used to be a minor on tumblr in spaces i shouldn't have been, minors are pretty low on my level of people im concerned about. one of my earliest blogs was rpf, when i was like 15 years old max. and i was definitely in spaces i shouldn't have been in then. but kids are some of the most naturally curious people out there and will hunt down shit whether we main tag it or not. and will lie about their ages, like i did for like half a decade of my time here. it's why i don't police age in bio or anything. if you reveal you're a minor ill probably block you but im not vetting anyone. this post isn't about exposing minors to sexuality. kids are aware porn exists. it is much more about the fact that currently we are getting a lot of flack for maintagging and i want us safe

once again coming on to tell you all to STOP MAIN TAGGING!! PLEASE!!! ITS BECOMING AN EPIDEMIC. DO NOT PUT YOUR RPF IN THE MAIN TAGS I BEGGGGGGGG

[carolinanadeau]

Embarrassing, ridiculous TMI under the readmore (not gross! just way too personal!)

I do not have PTSD and I don't want to be a part of the "flippantly using the word 'trigger'" problem at all, but I think I finally found a proper name for this harmful behavior I've wrestled with since at least high school, and it's called self-triggering.

Again, I don't have trauma... well, everybody has some trauma, but that's not the thing I'm triggering myself about here. And if I explained what I had actually been doing to myself (which may be obvious to someone who's reading between the lines but I don't want to talk about it for reasons I've stated before), it would sound laughably, mockably trivial. But the results are still an acute increase in depression and obsessive negative/angry thinking and distress and alienation from something that usually gives me joy... so it's still harmful to me, no matter how stupid and frivolous it sounds. Perhaps it's an OCD/depression self-triggering instead of a PTSD self-triggering.

I reiterate, what I'm discussing is not trauma, not EVER claiming it is, but:

In a similar vein, one set of case studies (De Young, 1984) conceptualized approaching situations reminiscent of the trauma as “counterphobic behavior” (i.e., an attempt to master anxiety by repeatedly approaching its source, resulting in a greater sense of control).  

I understand this, the "maybe if I keep looking I'll become desensitized", and "I need more information so I can better avoid this thing and people associated!" Or even "well maybe it wasn't really that bad, maybe I'm remembering it as worse than it was" (I'm not, if anything I've forgotten just how bad it was!)

Likewise, if trauma survivors perceive reexperiencing symptoms as inevitable, they may wish to decide the time and place of their occurrence, affording them a sense of control.

...is that the irrational "gotta get it over with" compulsion??  

Alarmingly, many users also report being unable to stop this behavior once they have begun despite the dysregulation and distress that it causes.

This is how it goes: I will read or even just skim through something that causes me serious emotional distress, whether that is a fanfiction with something horrible happening to characters I find comfort in, or a really nasty article full of harsh, baseless criticisms of something I love so much. (Again, these things sound laughable but to the way my mind works, it is not. Though I also do something similar with actual bad memories from my life [I think everyone does], well, you can't "reread" or refresh those. And I also have the power to delete/destroy any physical records I have of those.)

So, I will vow to never ever let this wretched thing enter my eyeballs again. I will ruminate about it and quietly seethe about the fact that it exists, and that some people even like/agree with it! I won't be able to get certain upsetting phrases out of my head and I will obsess and it will ruin my enjoyment of related things whenever I get reminded of it.

Maybe I will find ways to block or blacklist to lower my chances of seeing it. And I will be very vigilant about this for a long time and will successfully avoid it, even if I see reminders here and there that make me mad. Slowly, I'll only remember a few specific sentences from the thing, and even those may be unclear.

And then I'll suddenly develop the belief that I "have to" look at it again for some reason, and my heart will start pounding as I start bracing myself for this "inevitability".  And eventually the irrational, self-destructive side will win out and I'll do it, believing that it's like ripping a bandaid off for the greater good. Gotta get it over with, you see. I'll only glance over it, of course, because this time I already know how bad it is - I'll just read a few sentences here and there on my way to do something "sensible" like block the url or check who liked it so I know it wasn't my friends - but it will be enough to make me feel like absolute shit for days again, and now I have these fresh memories in my head to contend with and the cycle of trying to forget these bad bad thoughts and be able to freely enjoy the thing I love starts all over again.

and that's what you missed on Glee!

[whos-the-seme]

Shen Qingqiu was doomed.

He stood still, fluttering his fan nervously and trying to avoid catching his counterpart's, the real Shen Qingqiu, glaring eyes from across the room. Instead, he idly observed the other Cang Qiong Mountain Peak Lords, trying to spot the differences between the ones he knew and their alternates.

Liu Qingge had brought back a strange artifact from one of his hunts to the monthly Peak Lord meeting. It was a mirror, rimmed an ugly tarnished gold, topped with a decoration that was shaped into an unidentifiable creature with ruby red eyes.

[Important Artifact Detected: Red-Eyed Sphinx's Mirror! Quest starting...]

Shen Qingqiu had been trying to remember where it might have appeared in PIDW when the surface of the mirror suddenly began to glow a dull yellow. It quickly brightened until it obscured everyone's vision.

And then, there stood another set of peak lords across the room, facing them down.

System, what on earth is going on???

[Quest started: Lost Long Spirit in My Reflection! Other characters have been transported to this universe. Host must find a way to send them back without revealing his identity as a transmigrator.]

WTF? I didn't agree to this!

[Good luck!]

System??? Get back here!

While the two Yue Qingyuans and Xu Qinglis conversed together to try to understand what had happened, the other peak lords had begun to mingle with each other, curious about their counterparts.

Shen Qingqiu tried to suppress his panic, sticking close to Shang Qinghua. His Yue Qingyuan occasionally flicked his softened gaze towards the alternate Shen Qingqiu, likely noticing that the other still acted as he used to before his qi deviation. In fact, several of the peak lords he had gotten to know over the years were sending some looks at the other Shen Qingqiu.

With the original goods right there, how long would it be before something exposed him as a fraud?? What if he was confronted about why he acted so differently?

[Host must avoid having his identity exposed. Being revealed as a transmigrator will result in Host being immediately sent back to his old body.]

Yeah, yeah, same shit as always!

Looking to his side, Shang Qinghua seemed to be experiencing the same threats, desperately looking away from the more dead-eyed Shang Qinghua across the room who, luckily, was barely paying him any attention.

Fuck, what do we do?

---

Shen Qingqiu continued to glare at the Other Shen Qingqiu in the room. The other Shen Qingqiu was so obviously a fraud, he could tell within minutes of being here. While his alternate seemed somewhat familiar, he didn't act like him at all, his mannerisms were all off, and despite the attempt at keeping a poker face, Shen Qingqiu could tell that he was nervous. Probably at being caught out.

His alternate self had likely been replaced with a bodysnatcher or some sort of spirt, if they truly were supposed to be the same person. Was everyone else stupid, or had they had their brains sucked out by a Heart Mouthed Lobster-Squid?

Or maybe they simply like the bodysnatcher better and didn't bother to investigate.

Shen Qingqiu's face became stormier, turning his glare to the Other Yue Qingyuan, wondering if he had felt happier once his precious Xiao-Jiu had vanished. The other Yue Qingyuan's face grew even more pathetic. Tch. Typical.

"That stupid System--" Shen Qingqiu nearly snapped his neck in looking at the bodysnatcher upon hearing his murmur. The fraud, upon noticing his sudden attention, clammed back up and looked away. But Shen Qingqiu knew what he heard.

Xi Tong.

He hadn't heard those words in years, not since--

He stepped forward, scanning the other once more. Upon a second, more thorough look, Shen Qingqiu realized that he grew more familiar. He wore his hair in the way that Shen Qingqiu wore it, but looser and less severe. His eyes were clearer and lighter, with hints of a smile, despite his nerves. He occasionally quickly glanced up and to his left, as if seeing something there, before bringing his attention back to the room at large.

No. It couldn't be. He was long dead, despite Shen Qingqiu's best efforts. Even if the fake had some similar things about him, that doesn't mean--

Shen Jiu had once had a brother, besides Qi-ge. Slightly smaller than him, despite the fact that Shen Jiu passed him along as much food as he could when on the streets. He smiled so much despite their circumstances, and was so kind despite Shen Jiu constantly telling him that he was making himself a target. But he looked so, so similar to Shen Jiu himself. They could have switched their clothes and looked exactly the same, if one didn't notice the difference in their demeanors.

His brother has also always been a little odd, talking to himself and arguing with an imaginary friend that only he could see named Xi Tong. One of the reasons that they survived as long as they did on the streets was due to the inexplicable knowledge that his brother seemed to have. Somehow, his brother knew about the various plants or small animals that they could hunt and sell for a pretty coin in the markets. Shen Jiu never asked, not looking a gift horse in the mouth.

But his brother was dead. He had died years ago, in the time during when they were in Qiu's manor. During a punishment for Shen Jiu's attempt to get them both to join Wu Yanzi; he had switched their clothes and taken Shen Jiu's place and died for it. That had been the final catalyst that made him set the manor ablaze and escape, mourning his brother's death as his fault for daring to be free. Cursing Qi-ge for not coming back for them.

Dazed and his vision dim, Shen Jiu took another step forward, and another. Hope, something he thought he had killed off long ago, slowly rose in his chest.

Had his brother survived in this world? Had he managed to escape alongside Shen Jiu? Or had Shen Jiu died in his place? Dimly, he can't help but think that the world would be far kinder if that were the case. If his brother had made it to Cang Qiong Mountain and became a peak lord all on his own and still managed to keep his smile. If he didn't have Shen Jiu dragging him down with him.

The other Shen Qingqiu, not having noticed his approach, laughed at something the other Shang Qinghua said ("Wonder if Shang Qinghua is a traitor here, too," Shen Jiu thought dimly). His laugh was the same. He rose his fan to hide his face, but Shen Jiu noticed how his nose crinkled, and his eyes nearly closed in delight, exactly like--

"A-Yuan?"

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter one | formula one imagine

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

chapter one: an offer you can refuse

years of solitude has led y/n y/ln down a dark path following her career-ending injury in 2022 but one rookie seems dead set on bringing her back into the fray

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

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“have you seen this?”

it’s too early in the day to be subjected to twitter in y/n’s opinion, but her manager - the one she’s always insisted in not needing - insists upon it. sara’s hand shakes as she hands over her phone, the video already playing loudly.

the video is a poorly clipped together compilation of kimi antonelli, for no better word, gushing about her. it’s earnest and even cute, but not cute enough. the formula one paddock was a vulture pit, one y/n had only escaped three years earlier with her life - barely.

“it’s cool. that’s all it is though,” y/n moves towards the door, picking up her coat and refusing to turn back towards sara, “i’ve told you since jenson insisted i hire you, there’s no way in hell i will ever go back to that paddock. and that’s the end of it, please. i’ll do any stupid vitamin ad or female empowerment talk if it makes you happy, but i can’t go back there.”

y/n grabbed her keys and left the apartment, leaving sara in her wake. sara reached into her pocket and pulled out a tattered letter with ‘y/n’ scrawled on the front in awful handwriting. she left it on the kitchen island and left, understanding this was likely to be her last time in this apartment - there's stupid and there's what she was doing right now, there was no way she would still be employed in the morning.

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girlsonthegrid

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 103,478 others

tagged: yourusername

girlsonthegrid: today we look back at the biggest what if for women in formula one - y/n y/ln. the 26-year-old drove for mclaren from 2020 to 2022 before she sustained a career-ending injury at silverstone. y/ln was the first ever female f1 race winner with her emphatic victory at monza in 2021 and the first ever female formula 2 champion with her win in 2019. her career lasted just 30 races and she hasn't been seen in the paddock or around any drivers since the crash. there have been reports that she has been approached about a mentor role but considering how fast her management rejected and shut down sky sports about a commentary role, this is also unlikely. what would you like to see from her if she ever comes out of hiding?

view all comments

user1: i mourn for her everyday

user2: the way she paved the way for so many but can't stand to be in the paddock to see what she did for the sport

user3: i really don't blame her

user4: doriane is the mercedes reserve and abbi is alpine's! her work is there even if she isn't and i know i'll always be grateful for that

user5: she's so overrated, if she didn't crash she still would've been out of formula 1 by now

user6: me when i'm the most wrong ever

user7: i can't believe there are still men to this day that think she wasn't great? literal world champions like max, lewis, fernando, seb and jenson have all said that she could've won a championship

user8: i mean no shade to lando but i think y/n would've made it 100x harder for max this season in that mclaren

user9: the way jenson tried to say that in the nicest way possible in las vegas lol

user10: and max agreed with him LOL

user11: the way it wasn't even proper lando shade or oscar shade like twitter painted it to be but like max just praising his bestie

user12: he does not play about her as he should

user13: i mean he's the only one we know y/n still actually talks to

user14: i can't wait for the tell-all biography that exposes half the grid because like how much have you must have fucked up for her to never speak to you again

user15: when twitter likes were public she was caught liking a bunch of tweets bout mick when he got his first points so like she doesn't even have hard feelings to the guy who put her in the barrier sooo

user16: it was proven it was break failure???? mick did nothing wrong that's why she still likes things praising him

user17: that crash really robbed us of the best ever f1 relationship with y/n and lando

user18: you know that's part of the reason that she doesn't speak to lando right?

user19: because she wished it was him not her?

user20: NO! because she hated that whole 'ship'

user21: and lando leaned into it way too much

user22: it made me a bit uncomfortable and i'm not even y/n

user23: AND she said on the beyond the grid podcast that she thought those rumours were really reductive and relegated her to just a love interest of her teammate rather than a race winner

user24: kimi antonelli please bring her back to us

user25: praying she'll listen to the literal child

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texts between y/n y/ln (bold) and max verstappen (italics)

did u give them my fucking address

my lawyer says to always deny everything?

i also actually have no idea what you are talking about…

i just got home and there’s a fucking letter from KIMI ANTONELLI on my kitchen counter

it’s creepy and a mad invasion of privacy

i did NOT give them your address?

i gave them sara’s contact details so they wouldn’t be able to directly get to you and i honestly thought she would be too scared to ask you

she showed me all the clips of him praising me.

it didn’t work.

it’s been three years y/n…

and it still hasn’t been long enough.

all i’m saying is read the letter, as creepy as it might be, he is just an 18 year old entering the lion’s den you could at least reply to him even if you don’t take up the offer

although i read they were going to pay you £10 million a year??? was that real?

unfortunately it is very real.

i didn’t think i was still worth that much

you are worth that and more, just give him a chance. we’ve both met him, he’s a sweet kid.

for now.

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it was cold in her apartment, y/n hadn’t shut the window from when she opened them that morning. in fact she hadn’t moved from the kitchen since she set eyes on the letter. it was bold she’d give him that.

the letter was crumpled as if it had gone through hell to get to her (it probably had) and the handwriting was a serious reminder of just how young kimi is. y/n had wondered if her maternal instincts would ever kick in like all the older women in her life insisted it would. sure she had felt intense feelings of love for her childhood cats and had cared her formula one cars (regina and heather, they were named after mean girls, because that is who they had to be on track) like they were children. but that true maternal feeling had never come to her, until now.

all y/n could think about was kimi. how young he was, how much he was set to lose. not everyone was her, the worst thing wasn’t going to happen to everyone - it just always seemed to happen to her.

her loud phone alarm jolted her out of her daydream, reminding her to take her painkillers. as she poured herself a glass of water, y/n slammed down the glass and ripped open the letter.

dear miss y/n y/ln my name is andrea kimi antonelli and i am going to be driving for mercedes amg f1 team in 2025. we met very briefly after i won all three races at mugello and lifted the italian f4 championship trophy. i know you were there on mclaren PR but for me it changed my life. you have always been my biggest inspiration alongside michael schumacher (i am italian, you must understand). it was always my dream to race alongside you and maybe even be teammates, i’d even betray toto and leave mercedes to make that happen (please don’t tell him i told you that). i know that can never happen now, but it could happen in another way? i know like me you grew up seeing niki lauda supporting and mentoring the mercedes drivers and i was wondering if you would be my mentor - who cares about george anyway. i know you’ve never come back to the paddock and are unlikely to do so for little old me. but if you could just think about it that would be great, if you don’t ask, you’ll never get! i hope this letter wasn’t horribly offensive, i mean it when i say you’re my favourite!!! love, kimi (p.s. i was at monza 2021, so you could even consider me a good luck charm) (p.p.s you won monza 2021 completely on merit but i was there) (p.p.p.s please don’t think i’m an idiot) (p.p.p.p.s i also loved interlagos 2020 that’s a super underrated drive)

with tears in her eyes, y/n placed the letter back on the counter, grabbed the glass of water and made her way to her bedroom. painkillers taken with a wince, she still hadn’t gotten used to the size of the pills even three years into taking them, y/n shuffled under the duvet.

the offer was there and it seemed sincere. her accountant would tell her that the money was worth the mental turmoil, even if she just did it for one season and returned to her little cave in west london.

there was no doubt she felt something for kimi - a kinship, a frienship or a maternal yearning - but was it worth ripping off all the bandages and opening herself back up to all the scrutiny again?

she would sleep on it.

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yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63 and 10,567,388 others

yourusername: much to think about these days. like how the fuck this app works now?

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user1: first post in three years and it’s THIS?

user2: i am not complaining

user3: i am savouring every little piece in case she goes missing for another three years

mclarenf1: the queen has returned

user4: no thanks to you

user5: how about we keep my wife’s name out of your fucking mouth

user6: socials admin i know it is not you specifically but i really don’t know how you can post up here like you’re completely absolved of your involvement in this. your car had break failure that broke her fucking back - it is a miracle she is even still walking! and you still don’t accept any responsibility for it

user7: i love y/n but like how is it mclaren’s fault? break failure happens all the time?

user8: well it’s in one part the fact that they were using her as a test dummy because it was a new faulty part that mclaren was experimenting with that was on her car and NOT lando’s and the fact that to this day when they feel like it they’ll heap guilt onto mick schumacher

user9: without being disrespectful there were two formula one careers that were ended that day because mclaren have kept to the narrative that it was mick that put her into the barriers eventhough siedel admitted when he left mclaren that it was a faulty break part that caused it.

user10: clock it

user11: yes clock it but maybe on a different post because it’s y/n’s return to the internet and all yall can talk about is the most traumatic event in her life?

kimiantonelli: i also love clairo

user12: what is bro doing?

user13: be quiet he’s our best hope of y/n coming back to the paddock let him cook

user14: name three songs local

kimiantonelli: bags (live), alewife and blouse

user15: this motherfucker might just do it

maxverstappen1: i miss brando :/

yourusername: you know my address

yourusername: use it since you like to give it out so much

maxverstappen1: I DID NOT GIVE THEM YOUR ADDRESS

user16: y/lnstappen friendship is BACK

user17: it was never gone?

user18: but now we get to see it :P

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when she woke the next morning, y/n knew she had to read the letter again before jumping into anything. in her sleep she was plagued with memories of the past, but not the usual ones that haunted her in the dark. there were no flames, no hospitals, no career-ending injuries. no, this time she was transported back to 2020 and her first few races of her formula one career.

march 2020.

the paddock was much bigger in formula one than it had been in formula two with hundreds more people running around, barging through crowds, hitting y/n on the way through and not even stopping to apologise. she had thought briefly that she would be making more noise as the first female racer to take part in a race since forever - y/n even thought that she’d made a bit of a splash during preseason testing, nestled between her teammate lando and alex in the red bull in fifth.

but she was invisible. even with the garish orange path to follow to the mclaren garage, y/n struggled to get through the crowds of people brandishing their paddock passes. her trainer had gone ahead to set up her driver room which left y/n to push through and arrive to briefing ten minutes late.

“i’m so sorry, i got lost and by the time i was going in the right direction the paddock had filled up?”

y/n stammered, not quite able to make eye contact with zak brown. the american wasn’t tall in comparison to the general public but he towered over y/n and the disapproving stare didn’t do much to help.

“just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

zak snipped, waving his hand in y/n’s direction, telling her to take a seat. y/n rushed to the nearest empty seat and looked for her teammate in the room. lando was sat just three seats to her right on a small table. y/n tried to make eye contact with lando but he avoided her gaze like it was burning him, so much for the ‘big brother’ act he had put on at the car launch.

the engineers stood in front of the screen and started their long-winded presentation about the prospects for the season ahead. y/n pulled her note book out and frantically started taking notes, she didn’t know if that was normal for formula one drivers, but knowing as much as possible couldn’t hurt.

y/n copied down the warnings about possible tyre wear in turn three when she heard some soft sniggers, like someone was trying to stifle their laughter. this drew y/n out of her focus on the presentation, looking around the meeting room to locate the perpetrator.

lando caught her eye immediately. he had a light blush across his face and his mouth was covered by his hand. he looked guilty, guiltier than the rest of the room who were listening intently to the engineers. y/n raised her eyebrow in question.

“i’m sorry are we distracting you two?”

zak interrupted the presentation, turning to look at y/n and lando.

“no, sorry sir,” y/n replied turning her chair back to face the screen. “lando?” zak pressed.

“i’m sorry zak but y/n was distracting me with her note-taking,” lando forced out between his boyish giggles. “i’ve never taken notes, i didn’t realise you would be sucking up to the engineers this early on?”

“i’ve always taken notes? is it a problem? i’m sorry if i was distracting you lando.”

“yeah we’ll see how much those notes help you on track, rookie.”

lando spat over the table. it was uncharacteristically mean for the lando she had seen in the mclaren social content and the lando she spoke with at the car launch. y/n felt tears prickle in her eyes but she swallowed them down, she couldn’t cry yet - or at least not in view of all the most important people on the team.

“right. we’ll get back to business then.”

the rest of the meeting went by in a blur for y/n, but despite the outburst from lando, she continued to take her notes, she would be damned if some comments from lando would fuck up her entire race weekend routine. y/n took her time when zak dismissed them from the meeting, not wanting to look unprofessional.

moving towards the door, y/n’s shoulder hit someone else’s. she looked up to make eye contact with lando yet again.

“you better not make a habit of making contact with me, rookie,” lando said, a slight smirk but a harsh look in his eyes.

“are you like okay?”

“why wouldn’t i be?” lando replied pushing past through the door.

“i don’t know, you’re just a little frosty this morning? did i do something?”

“why would i be thinking about you, seriously? this is my team, know your place and we’ll get on just fine”.

with that lando was gone and y/n was left puzzled. i guess PR really does work wonders, y/n thought before making her own way to her drivers room.

her trainer, luca, wasn’t there when she managed to locate the room but all of her gear was already neatly put away like they had discussed. y/n cracked open an electrolyte drink and opened her notebook to study the meeting points.

there was a loud knock at the door and before y/n could even utter a “come in”, the mystery visitor barged into the room. daniel ricciardo announced his arrival with a packet of tim tams thrown at y/n and a quick “howdy” before he started rifling through her stuff and studying her helmet.

“ah, another cool dude who has a cuddly guy on their helmet,” daniel said, picking up her helmet, pointing at the cartoon version of her childhood cat.

“oh that’s schumi, when we travelled for karting we always brought him up until he died of old age, but i still want him with me whenever i race.” y/n said, nervous that the heartfelt explanation would be deemed uncool by one of the coolest racers she had ever seen.

“oh that’s surprisingly cute, i bet schumi was a big hit in the paddock back in the day.”

“he sure was, he’s how i charmed max into not hating me after i took him out once,” y/n chuckled thinking back to the race where max stormed up to her with angry tears in his eyes until y/n practically threw schumi at him. in just five seconds, max had calmed down and schumi was happily purring in the young dutchman’s lap.

“that sounds like max. but speaking of the other young whippersnappers in the paddock, how is our lando treating you? i bet zak and that can’t keep up with you two…” daniel asked, slumping to the floor, taking one of her drinks from the mini fridge.

“oh. i am getting used to him, we’ll put it that way?”

“he’s not being rude is he?”

“no! well. he insists on calling me rookie and keeps making comments about me crashing into him and made fun of me taking notes in briefing but i’m sure that such the british banter.”

“you’re british?”

“well. um. yeah, you got me there.”

daniel grabbed her hands, forcing y/n to look him in the eyes rather than her very interesting shoes.

“i know lando is like some media darling, but so are you. don’t let him push you around, he may have been in this team a while but you’re just as good as him if not better. you’re here to prove yourself, not to play second fiddle, okay?”

it was the first time someone had actually tried to talk to her properly since getting to the paddock. again, tears climbed to her eyes, but this time she let one creep out. daniel wiped it away.

“we made the mistake of isolating max when he was young and new, we won’t make the same mistake - we can’t have two of you running rampant around here,” y/n let out a wet laugh which daniel returned, “just come to renault if you need anything from me. max will be there for you, you know, and seb, kimi, fernando and all the old men will listen to you. don’t rot in your drivers room or hotel suite and think you’re not wanted here.”

y/n nodded, feeling some butterflies in her stomach. she was actually here - a formula one driver. a seven-time race winner wants her here, world champions want her here. a private-school fuckboy wasn’t going to ruin her first ever race weeekend.

“thank you daniel.”

“i have to dash, but i’m serious, we’re here for you. and i would be honoured to kick that little shit’s ass for you, okay?”

the australian left in just as loud fashion as he came, but in the remaining silence, y/n finally felt some peace. this was her chance, and she wasn’t going to mess it up.

present.

y/n couldn’t let that happen to kimi. the young italian was just so unbelievably earnest in his letter that y/n couldn’t bear the thought of his kindness being taken advantage of. george russell had never been outwardly callous but with his attack on max late last season and his complete radio silence with y/n since her crash made her suspicious.

as she prepared to ask max for kimi’s number, sara (who did actually still have a job) sent her a link.

sara: zak brown believes mclaren has the strongest pairing on the grid with no more childish recklessness like in the early 2020s

sara: do you want us to put out a statement or ignore as usual?

y/n clicked on the link, even though she knew it would just annoy her to the point that her phone might become closely acquainted with the thames.

as the formula one world gears up for the 2025 season, zak brown has already stated his confidence for mclaren this season. the papaya team will be coming into the 2025 season as reigning constructors champions and lando norris and oscar piastri will be aiming to add the world drivers championship to that as well.

when zak brown sat down with us earlier this week, the mclaren ceo did not beat around the bush, stating that mclaren have the strongest pairing on the grid. with red bull promoting liam lawson in a test and, mercedes putting unproven kimi antonelli next to george russell and ferrari gambling with charles leclerc and lewis hamilton, brown might just be right.

in their journey to constructors champions, brown recognised that as a team they had straightened out all of their ‘growing pains’. this is exemplified in oscar piastri completing all laps in the 2024 season.

like they usually do, y/n y/ln’s particularly rabid twitter fans will probably detect some ‘shade’ towards the former driver. brown did touch on the prior mclaren drivers during his reign as ceo, saying that the team had some childish recklessness, but now they have a team that all know their place.

y/n y/ln hasn’t spoken about anything formula one related since her retirement, even forgoing the opportunity to congratulate the team that took the chance on her for winning the championship - something brown did not mince his words on off camera. brown lamented about y/ln’s silence, labelling her a brat and ungrateful for not still thanking him for allowing a woman to compete in formula one.

will mclaren make it back-to-back constructors championships? and will they sweep both championships this season?

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she needed that loud-mouthed american’s head on a silver platter. the letter had almost sucked her back into the world of formula one, only for the man who discarded her like a broken toy when his car had malfunctioned and smashed her and her career into a concrete wall to call her an ungrateful brat.

fuck him. fuck mclaren. and fuck that dumbass reporter for giving him the time of day.

y/n didn’t throw her phone from her balcony but pulled up her texts with max.

texts between y/n y/ln (bold) and max verstappen (italic)

have you read this absolute hogwash

zak brown believes mclaren has the strongest pairing on the grid with no more childish recklessness like in the early 2020s

i 100% get why you wanted to put him in a wall last season

you watched last season?

shut up not the time

did you text me just to call your old tyrannical boss a fraud?

i was going to ask for kimi’s number but now i’m back at square one

noooooooo

i want to be there for him, the way no one was for us.

but this is the bs they write about me when i haven’t been seen or heard from in three years, imagine the shite they come up with when i’m the paddock every weekend

WHEN?

no no no

i’ll give you kimi’s number

contact: kimi antonelli (mercedes)

you decide what you want to do

as much as i would kill to have you around the paddock again… even in the vicinity of george

i want you to do what you are comfortable with

thanks max

i’m not giving you a yes but i’m definitely thinking about it

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fin.

note: omg that's part one??????? i had this idea and have been planning and adding to it for a couple days. no spoilers but there will be multiple love interests, backstabbing and all that lovely stuff - i just love the drama !!! (yes i will finish guilty as sin at some point as well). i hope you enjoy the prose as well - first time writing that way on here lol ?! let me know if you liked it, who you'd like to see her with and what you'd like to see happen!

[stesichoreanpalinode]

In true spirit of anarchy I pressed the wrong button

What about Terry Toadstool the cinema owner/Mr Bean the postman from Dirty Movie - even if they’re not a comedy duo they are the yin and yang of this episode?

kinsey scale but for rik and ade fans - between the two characters in their duo acts (richard dangerous/sir adrian dangerous, rick/vyvyan, kevin/keith, dreamytime escorts, richie rich/eddie catflap, colin/vim, richard richard/eddie hitler, richard twat/eddie ndingombaba, any i'm forgetting) who usually played your favorite (and yes pls reply with all your Thoughts if you want!!)

[misserabella]

sick love

spencer reid x fem! reader

pt2!!

synopsis;;

you catch your best friend spencer touching himself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns him on even more. if only you knew he had been dreaming about this moment for his entire fucking life and that he has even planned for it to happen…

cw;; (let’s act as if spencer and reader are the same age (consensual 18) in high school

really perv!spencer, dark themes, spencer uses readers body without implicit consent (i don’t know if it counts as cnc since later we find out she doesn’t mind), somnophilia (if you squint), INDECENT use of cum, stalker behavior, use of masculine sex toys, breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom spencer, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, cream pie, masturbation (m), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

@cafekitsune ‘s separators

Spencer was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really perverted way. His sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and him, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were no where to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you invited Spencer for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in D.C in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen sleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. He found himself stating for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been shared, his eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? He didn’t even remember how his dick had gotten that hard nor how it had ended on one of his hands, palm slick in precum as he thrusted in it, bottom lip in between his teeth and soft moans and groans scaping his lips. But he didn’t care. He came so hard that night that he swore he saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, he of course felt awkward and embarrassed of himself around you. Masturbating to his sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when he found himself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

He relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against his neck, your tits fully pressed to his chest and whimpers making his cock push against his jeans, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for him to stop as he beat the shit out of them.

He liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of him, he wouldn’t have it. He sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared to get a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up,— and also, who would believe them if they said that the slender nerd of their class was the one that beat them up— so he always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to himself. Like it had to be. You were his, or you’ll be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” him shrugging even when he knew that he was, in fact, the thug. Then, he’d go back to his house and open the last drawer of his desk — which he had under key— and take the same chapstick out of his pocket to push it inside along with the other things he had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

He loved them. He almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… He loved the ones that he stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch he could push against his nose and lick as he fucked his fist. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove him crazy.

Another thing Spencer loved to do was take photos of you. He had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. He loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But he also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for him. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. He even had one of you resting asleep on his lap, lips parted and against his hard cock. He saved some of them on his wallet in case he ever had to take care of a boner when he hung out with you.

He was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to his porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to his cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of his infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case he ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if he ever felt lonely in his empty house. At first, before his infatuation appeared, he would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for him to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now he snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. He had licked his cum out of your fingers when he had used your hand to masturbate, having to hold in his moans and whimpers. Other nights, he would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push his head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as his hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish his head.

He loved it when you played with his hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when he’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at him for using your good conditioner after a pool day. He was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, using them as lube to fuck his hand while he showered in your house, using then his cum to fill the tubes, evening out the difference.

He would steal food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in his mouth. You’d always whine about it, but he never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving him full access to it when you were full.

Spencer considered himself to be a man with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. He would love to fuck you to his liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call him daddy. He thought of himself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of his numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked him and fucked him, using him like you’d use a fucking toy. He had woke up with a raging orgasm as from his lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was he a pervert? Absolutely. Would he ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

He’d prefer to die with a boner than ever telling you he loved you. He was just terrified of the thought of you pushing him away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what he thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at him for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that he always bought you, he would come to his house and enter his room with a full tent in between his thighs. He would pull out of the back of his closet his fleshlight and spray one of his pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend his other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for his cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what he’d do, fuck his stupid little toy with his face fully buried on the perfumed one as he imagined you under him, ass up and chest pushed against his bedsheets. His pace was needy, harsh and deep, from his mouth, dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making him fill the toy to the brim when he couldn’t found himself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what he fucked in between whimpers.

He sometimes would leave his house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching him red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there he was, and so were you.

That day he had come with a really painful bonner in between his thighs. You’d been sitting on his lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that he had found himself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your best friends, laughing with them and jumping on his lap when the jokes were too good. Well, he was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found his hair and slowly massaged his scalp, every now and then pulling at his hair when you played with his locks, his hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from his — thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using him. The fact that he felt used by you and only you, was what had him gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Spencer was a good boy, so he just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of his mouth. He felt like breathing once again when you got up from his lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when he no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against him.

“Fuck…” he whimpered when he plopped on his bed, his palm pushing hardly against his pulsing and leaking cock, precum staining his jeans and underwear. He had pulled out from his closet his fleshlight, since he felt that his hand would not be enough today. He had to fuck himself. “Please, fuck me, please…” he was a babbling mess when his tip pushed inside the lubed toy. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” he found himself whimpering at his mind scenario, in which you would ride him relentlessly, his dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over his cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” he was a babbling mess, his hips rutting upwards against his hand movements to fuck his cock deeper in his toy.

“Spence!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened his unlocked front door. Spencer always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a book he had been dying to read for months and for which he had cried after finding out that it had been sold out. After seeing just how badly he wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from him. “Spencer?” you called out again, the soft sound of his voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving him a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching his room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was he with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Spencer fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked him for years on end, since the first time that he held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But he never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, at the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that he had to be just what he was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached his slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was he fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’ve taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out he was not fucking anyone but himself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as his hips fucked upwards, inside his clear flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from his lips new groans and moans fell. Spencer was fucking touching himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

He looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, glasses crooked, eyebrows pushed together as his head fell back against his pillow, hair messy all over it. His hand was slow, pushing the toy down on his cock in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see his long and thick dick, his thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” his voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bit down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Spencer was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because he had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Spencer’s movements stopped, his gaze moving to his opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and book in hand.

He quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under his breath when he sat up, a pillow hiding his hard and leaking cock, which was twitching at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” he didn’t even know what to say. You had caught him, caught him fucking himself with his goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught him moaning your name. He felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught him… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at him while he pleasured himself. He had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” he cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and cock twitching under the pillow, leaking against his thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making his head snap back to you, a frown on his face, eyes widening when you let the book fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to his bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to his lap when he pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that Spencer, the Genius Spencer Reid, would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as he fucks himself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” he stuttered as he shook his head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping his chin so his eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” he moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and he whimpered, your pussy clenching when he shook his head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against his, teasing him to get out of him what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled his hair when he tried to kiss you, making him groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” he pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on his lap.

“Only good boys get a kiss, Spence.”

“I’m a good boy…” he was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” he nodded, his tongue dampening his lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered his naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” he shivered when your lips latched to his neck, your tongue pressing against his skin in open mouth kisses that led to his ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” he moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as he pushed the pillow off his lap, dick twitching below a pool of precum that dripped from his tip.

In the state he was… He would do anything for you. He would even fuck himself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

He moaned when you sat down on his desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. His hands were shaking when his fingers gripped around the clear silicone or his toy, whimpering when he noticed your eyes on his twitching dick.

You had seen dicks before, but none of them was as beautiful as Spencer’s. It was big, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew he could give it to you, that he would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on his shaft with your tongue and take him so deep on your throat you’d need to swallow when he came in your mouth. “Aw, poor Spence…” you cooed at his twitching cock, red tip and tight balls. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” he nodded, tears on his eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum on that cup for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Spencer?” he moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to his reaction. He liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” he muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing his cum making him go crazy. He whined when his leaking tip brushed against the artificial hole, his lip being tortured by his teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for him to see. “Fuck…” he cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

His dick was twitching like crazy with every new and fast thrust of his hips, pleads falling of his lips. ‘I need you. Need you so bad…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when he nodded, chuckling at his behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” he whimpered when you had made your way back to his side, standing in front of him and making his head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on his hair, making his hips stutter and breathy whines rip his throat. “Hold it. I haven’t even told you where to cum yet.” he cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and he had to squeeze his dick to not come when you pushed your damped panties into his mouth, slicked crotch flat against his tongue. His muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, his eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when he could take a taste on just how sweet you were. He choked on the lace when you startled his legs. His eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for him to see thin strips of slick connect them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of his neck to suck a hard hickey on his flesh.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, his hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when his white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, his mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on his tip. You hummed as you stroked his hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across his chest. He was still fucking hard. “Good boy…” you cooed, loving just how fucked out he seemed, moaning when you sat on his cock, his length in between your wet folds and his tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” he cried out with your panties on his mouth when you rocked your hips against his. That’s all it took for him to cum for a second time, right after his first orgasm.

You moaned, feeling his dick twitch and nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy due to the amount of his cum that coated it. “You came again, baby?” he nodded, his cock quickly getting hard again to your humping. “Fuck, Spencer…” you pulled your panties away from his mouth, wanting to hear his groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.”

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from his lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled his bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when he leaned in, pupils blown and need on his hazel thin irises. He looked high. And he was, high on his favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when he had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, his hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, his hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on his hair as he played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering his lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which he quickly discarded it away on his bedroom floor. He pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on his pillow —the same he had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. He moaned, dick twitching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for him.

He didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which he took his time with, and of course he would, he had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on his hair. “Spencer…” you whined when he bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. He was so drunk on your skin… He could spend his whole life kissing it that he would never get fucking tired of it. But his teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed his mouth on it now. And he seemed to get it when you pushed him further against it, his hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above his shoulders as he sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, him due to just how much he had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which he had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with his mouth in mind. His name falling off your lips on a whimper had his hips rocking against the duvet as he ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when his fingers found their way to your entrance that he started to eat you just like you needed and he always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming his name when his fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving to hit your g spot as his tongue circled your clit. Spencer knew how to use it, really well. So well that he had you tipping the edge in less than ten minutes. He was like a starved man, burying his face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in his tongue. “Fuck, Spencer, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on his hair. He knew you were close by how moans fell of those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Spencer crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

He moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when his tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Spencer drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled his bedroom.

You mewled when once you’ve come down from your high, his tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on his wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called from him. He whimpered when you tugged on his hair, pulling him away from your pussy as you sat up. He looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” he begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on his mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to his twitching and leaking cock, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where he had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took him in your hand, making him gasp.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Spencer.” you said, your other hand coming to his cheek to rub the flush on his skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” his balls tightened to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped his face left him to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for him to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Spence? Where do you want to cum, baby?” he was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling of his lips as he leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” he found himself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering him the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had him reeling.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against his lips, him nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with his own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave him a sweet smile when he moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of his mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Spence.” he was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive him there, hands on his neck when he leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which he didn’t even need since you were now entering your tongue in his mouth, making him groan. Fuck, he could come just with that. With your tongue on his mouth, your body against him and the thought that you were only letting him fuck you to seek your own release. He moaned on your open mouth when you took his dick to align it with your entrance, which twitched at the feeling of his tip. You needed him, and you needed him now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Spencer, please, please…” you whimpered, and he didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit. I’m gonna cum.” your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving him full access to your neck, which he kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. He was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. His stretch had you delirious, his tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of his back, making him groan. The two of you were taking your time, him getting used to the feeling of your tight and warm walls trying to milk his twitching dick and you to the feeling of his heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. He groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against him. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good boy for me and let me use your cock, alright?” he whimpered at your words, and in less than one second he had you gripping to his back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Spencer, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

He was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. His hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on his cock, just as desperate as him. He was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” he was a mess. Both of you were. His thrusts had you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in him. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrust, making your nails dig up on his back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Spencer, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on his ear, making him fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” he begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over his dick as he fucked you dumb, his hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was his name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Spencer, Spencer, Spencer…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” his thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before his dick twitched inside of you, filling you so full you choked on air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when some of it spilled out. He was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting your insides in the purest white.

“Shit, fuck, Spencer. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Spencer!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against his pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when he pulled you up from your ass, his newly hard cock ramming inside of your full of cum pussy. You cried out when his hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in his voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how his mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Spencer had you cumming so hard on his cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around his dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

-

i needed to.

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ HOW DO YOU TURN THIS THING OFF? — LN4

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

summary: fans love when you make appearances in landos streams. it’s usually because he doesn’t know where something is, and the internet goes crazy over their favorite certified himbo. on one stream, you get a taste of your own medicine when lando tasks you with turning the live feed off, and fans get a little more of an insight into your relationship

genre: established relationship, humour

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just tweeted

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user2 just made a thread

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

liked by yourusername and 406,409 others

landonorris dinner date then stream, be there or be square, 6pm

view all comments

maxfewtrell did she have to show you how to use a knife and fork too?

yourusername i definitely had to show him how to fill my wine glass up when it was empty

user PUT Y/N ON THE STREAM WE WANT MORE Y/N

user if he comes on in a dress shirt i’m Dead

user oh they’ve all definitely seen the thread😭😭

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a thread

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

liked by landonorris and 108,654 others

yourusername this time it was my own stupidity that let the secret out. and i didn’t have to show him how to propose! he did it all on his own accord!

view all comments

user YOU’RE SUCH AN ICON

user only lando and y/n could accidentally expose their own engagement

user THE CAPTION😭😭 she really has kept him alive all these years huh

user ‘i wouldn’t want to think of a life without you anyway’ now if that’s not meant to be than what is

landonorris i love you

landonorris really quick whilst we’re at it,,, where tf do we keep the spare phone chargers?

yourusername oh.. oh baby. i’ll be home in 5

————

a/n: hELLO! so the snippet from this got over 200 notes and i couldn’t wait to post it because you all loved it so much!

for the rest of my wips, check out the wip game linked in my pinned post!!

all of your feedback over the last few days has made me so happy sjdjsjs, any thoughts please feel free to send i am having so much fun creating for you guys. i seriously appreciate every like comment ask and follow!! anon emojis are now listed in my bio so if you wanna chat a bunch, have a look at what’s free !

- giselle

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan

[leangaza]

Don't skip my story 💔

My family lived a simple life filled with love and hope. Children played and went to school with joy, and my family dreamed of a bright future. However, the war destroyed our lives in Gaza. We were exposed to the horrors of war that turned our lives upside down.

On a tragic day, the war completely destroyed our home, leaving my family homeless and unprotected. The children are deprived of education and are in dire need of medical treatment due to the difficult health conditions they face. The parents are trying with all their might to secure basic needs such as food, clothing, and shelter, but limited resources make this nearly impossible. The tent they live in does not protect them from the cold of winter or the heat of summer.

My children Aya, Israa, Lian, Baraa ,aboud and Samar need your donations and generous support.

My family faces daily challenges to survive, but they hold out hope that there are kind hearts that can help us. They desperately need your support and donations to secure medical treatment for the children, provide safe shelter, and meet their basic needs.

Every donation, no matter how small, will be a ray of hope that will help them overcome their ordeal and rebuild their lives. Thank you for your generosity and support 🙏💔

@luvqwish @sherbetp0p @starlightsugar @fr0ge @whatislovevavy @timeless-orchid @magentasky234 @swapauanon @yakiattaki @pegglefan69 @writing-is-a-martial-art @bug-s0da @ohmerricat @mildmayfoxe @sunnyartistwriter @rabbithaver @madeline-kahn @unabashedmagicalgirlfan @averagenotnormal @emathyst9 @pet-shop-of-horror-fan @reyesstrand @rainy-fog @thefakehedgehogaroundhere @discreative @antixabound @liamins @thenextglamourousbard @jolyne-best-jojo @officialgleamstar @cosmicsymbols @spunkfunkyzzz @fairedoll @tomboyjessie13 @citrusfruitman @baldwin-10-12

@slendyverseargcollections @neonfruitbowl @momfriend2800 @luvmoonie @womenbehotfr @seventhefurbfather @c0-j-c0 @ignore-this0 @space-ace-books @olivedacat @exhausted-asterism @iphigenia-wailing @enderenby404 @implalazz @lunar-eclipse-bunnies @microwavesex @a-court-of-valkyries @thegoodwitchluz-uea @diagnosedhorsegirl @bebbls-craft-blog @the-acid-pear @moviequotes23 @nickbluehour @number1ludicolofan @inkslingerr @madspades @decadentmuffindreamscissors @taptrial2 @virovac @blue-jacket-blues @tacit-semantics @timeless-orchid @cinnarainbow @aziraphaleapologist @harley-angel @swapauanon @yakiattaki @piratefry @pegglefan69 @writing-is-a-martial-art @ohmerricat @mildmayfoxe @sunnyartistwriter

@fllagellant @jjjammerson @verycolourfulflipflops @genericminecraftpotato @probablynotaskeleton @sh4rkh4ts @bonicedemandarina @radical-l0ver @weareweirdpeople @ash-the-bee @ettaberrytea @cryptdmoth @cthulusposts @eastgaysian @uhhh-i-dont-know @charc-arts @hexblooddruid @strawbebbyboba @strawberridrops @rawdvd @rinthesecond @brookepagebe @kixflip @1p0lly1 @morihaus @rattlesnake-acrobatics @thatonebored-juniorcolleagu

@turtletoria @khanger @heliopixels @lukewarm-lesbian @rhubarbspring @redbuddi @mazzikah @maester-cressen @ankle-beez @anneemay @beesmygod @blackgoliath @butchfeygele @chilewithcarnage @cadaverkeys @determinate-negation @taffybuns @hotvampireadjacent @judelaws-hairline @bisexuel @flipout6 @turian @neptunerings @the-stray-liger @devilofthepit @stupid-dumb-bitch @sleevesareforlosers @sleepybitchdisease @kibumkim @monsterbutch @prisonhannibal @violentbisexuality @victoriawhimsey @killy @heritageposts @ghostofanonpast @sayruq @queerstudiesnatural @sar-soor @feluka @stuckinapril @brutaliakhoa @khangerinedreams @aria-ashryver @imjustheretotrytohelp @brokenbackmountain @schoolhater98 @neptunerings @certifiedsexed @girlinafairytalelovestory

my campaing vetted by:

@a-shade-of-blue

@90-ghost

@nabulsi

[im-just-a-random-fandom-girl]

in other important world news: today i spoke about consensual-non-consent as a genre of pornography in my class in order to prove my point of the blurry lines that exist when you try to regulate obscenity (it was a bit of a complex discussion and related to a paper we read so i’m not going to go into all the details but all you need to know is that i was arguing against regulation)

in response to my comment, my professor went “well it looks like she [the author] should have done more research. you have clearly done plenty of it!”

AND THEN CLASS ENDED

[traveler-at-heart]

Undercover

Summary: Natasha and you play a happy couple for an undercover mission.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

-----

It’s mortifying.

As you lay in bed, looking at the ceiling, the moment replays in your head over and over and over again. How you wish you had an off switch for your brain.

This is supposed to be an undercover mission, and yet you can’t keep your true feelings hidden from Natasha.

Undercover as a married couple, no less.

Today, while you were sitting in the living room of your “newlywed home”, reading a book, Natasha approached you. Her hand rested on your shoulder.

“I’m going out for a run” she had said. You nodded absentmindedly, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“I’ll start dinner now”

And it wasn��t until you heard the door shut, that you snapped out of it.

You didn’t have to pretend inside the house. There was absolutely no reason for you to kiss any part of her like that, no one was watching.

Your cheeks flushed and your palms began to sweat. Feeling stupid and exposed, you tried to cook dinner, finding it hard to focus on what to do.

If Natasha noticed the slightly burned meatloaf, she didn’t comment on it. Even as you downed your wine quickly and poured yourself more, she remained stoic and acted as usual.

The night went by in a blurr and now you’re staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Natasha is in the study, doing surveillance and thank God, because sharing a bed after what you did today?

Impossible.

How do I get myself in these situations?

—

“The Maggia” Fury said, looking around the room. There were only five people there, which told you this was an important mission. “What do you know about it?”

“Family of criminals, from Europe, mostly Italy. Loose alliance at that, each family just stays out of the other’s way” you casually said. Hell, you could go on and on about them for much longer.

“Someone does their homework” Fury nodded.

“Show off” Natasha leaned forward, whispering in your ear. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, but you tried your best to hide it.

You feared your best wasn’t very good.

“Their operations consist mostly of loan sharking, narcotics and prostituion” Maria continued. “But, we recently recieved intel that the family in New Jersey is playing something more dangerous”

“Potentially, HYDRA and the smuggling of Trinium”

“What’s Trinium?” Rogers, who had been following in silenece, finally intervened.

“Incredibly rare element and highly explosive if exposed to a special charge”

Of course, it was always about blowing something up.

“We’ve located the leaders of the Jersey family. You two will be sent immediately to start the undercover mission, as the timeline indicates that the purchase will happen in less than three months. Sorry for not getting you a gift, but your wedding was done in such a rush” Fury slid down the files towards you and Natasha.

You took it and were about to hand it to Steve, since he was sitting behind you, but Fury just chuckled, shaking his head no.

Maria had to bite the inside of her cheek to not laugh at your shocked expression, while you turned to look at Natasha with wide eyes.

“Oh, darling, I’ll make you so very happy!”

—

Just your luck, Natasha decides to stay and work from home on Friday. Your plans of eating junk food and wasting away watching reality tv to feel better after your slip up are down the drain.

Instead, you are out gardening. It’s part of the cover, you insisted since you moved. What kind of person would not make an effort to improve their house? One they were planning on living in for years to come.

And truly, you had outdone yourself. In the month you’d spent here, the grass went from dry to green, all kinds of flowers blooming thanks to your hard work and the knowledge provided by years of helping your mother.

It doesn’t matter if the sun is burning your skin or sweat is dripping down your back, you absolutely cannot spend the morning inside the house with the woman who you have a crush on, and who probably knows your true feelings now, thanks to that stupid, stupid…

“Hey” her voice snaps you back to reality, looking up to meet her green eyes, soft and gentle.

“Hi” you reply from your place in the ground, wiping your forehead. “What’s up?”

“You’ve been at it for hours now, and it’s getting too hot. Come get some rest”

“It’s fine, I just need to…”

She calls your name, more of a plea than a warning not to argue with her and you sigh, standing up. As you go up the porch, she hands over a glass of cold lemonade and you take it, realising that you were very much in need of some refreshments.

“What are you doing?” you mutter when you put the glass down, and she takes her hands in yours.

“You’ve been acting strange since yesterday”

“Natasha”

“Did you act on instinct?” she asks, her lips inches from yours.

“Y-yes”

“That’s what a good agent does. You act natural. It’s not something you put any effort in. You don’t drop the cover under any circumstance”

She is throwing you a life line, a gracious way to salvage some of your dignity -if you have any left, that is- because you both know, you are not that good of an agent.

“She’s walking towards the house” Natasha warns, your back to the street. You don’t look behind you, allowing the redhead to pull you into a heated kiss that steals your breath.

“Hey, neighbors”

You turn around, Natasha’s hand falling to your lower back. Waving at Beatrice Costa, the both of you fake smiles. It’s still hard to believe this regular looking woman is leading a criminal organization next to her husband.

“Your garden is looking spectacular!” she admires.

“Thank you, Beatrice. I’ll stop by to give you some flowers when the hydrengeas bloom”

“As long as your wife doesn’t get jealous” the woman jokes, and you feel Natasha’s hand snaking around your middle, pulling you flush against her front.

“She does” the redhead says in a teasing manner, making your neighbor/suspect laugh.

“Anyways, I came to invite you two over for dinner tomorrow. To thank you for last week”

“Oh, it was no bother, really” you say, smiling.

“I insist. Eight o’clock?”

“Sounds great” you nod, and once she says her goodbyes, Natasha turns you around in her arms, still not letting go of your waist.

“See? It’s working. You’re doing great. Nobody questions us” she eases your nerves over what happened yesterday.

Nobody questions you because you are really in love with her, that’s the truth.

“What are you doing?” you say, your breath hitching when she leans over, about to kiss you.

“She’s still around” Natasha says, letting you close the distance to meet her lips.

By the time she drags you back inside, so you can have lunch, the only thought in your head is the feel of her lips in yours.

—

It had been a simple ruse, so simple that it was a wonder it worked.

Natasha made sure Beatrice’s car would malfunction. She always parked outside, and you made sure to be Natasha’s lookout as she drained the battery.

Morning came, and true to her routine, the woman was ready to leave home when the luxurious Mercedes Benz refused to turn on. It just so happened that you were running by, and as any good neighbor would do, offered to help.

What a coincidence, your wife knew enough about cars to fix the issue and send the woman on her merry way.

Beatrice was too polite and too rich to waste the opportunity to thank you -and flaunt her wealth- so next morning she stopped by with a tiramisu from the most expensive bakery in town, to thank you both.

And fuck, it was good tiramisu.

Now, she would greet you and Natasha when either one of you would run past her house (part of your intelligence operations).

Four weeks after the start of the mission, and it had finally paid off, as you received an invitation into the lion’s den.

“So, what’s our game plan here?” you say, looking over yourself in the vanity mirror.

“Enjoy the evening” Natasha says, smiling at your reflection.

“What?” you turn to look at her, confused. “We’re gonna be inside their house. We could bug it”

“Their phones are tapped. That’s all we need. And the man’s computer. But maybe I’ll excuse myself and break into his study”

“That’s too dangerous” you protest. Even if they act like normal people, they’re life long criminals with an extensive network. And you don’t feel prepared to take over anything if Natasha’s compromised. “Could you not?”

“If you have any idea on how to hack into their financial system, sure”

You huff, annoyed at her bored tone. As if she’s not risking herself over something that can be done a million other ways.

“Nat, I don’t want anything bad happening to you. We’ll find another way, ok?” you insist, putting on your heels.

“Ok, darling” she nods, as a spouse would do to calm their crazy wife and you glare, but take your win.

Without another word, you prepare to leave the room, when you feel her arms around your middle.

“What are you…?”

“Clothing tag was out” she says, fixing your sweater. “There. Perfect”

Her words, accompanied by a squeeze to your stomach make your head fuzzy. Clearing your throat, you nod and go down the stairs, picking up a bottle of wine from the kitchen counter.

“Trust me” you say when Natasha gives you an inquiring look. “Ready to go?”

“After you, sweetheart”

As you walk down the street to the Costa residence, Natasha takes your hand, running her thumb over the back of it. She might sense your nerves, or is apologizing for before. Either way, you keep a light conversation until she knocks on your suspect’s door, her arm firmly around your waist.

“Welcome!” Beatrice says, ushering you into her home. It’s elegant and big, but not too flashy or pretentious. “And what do we have here?”

“Just a little gift. It’s actually one of the bottles we got from our honeymoon” you take the lead, your hand in Natasha’s as you navigate the luxurious home all the way to the dining room.

“Oh, this is close to the place where my family is from originally”

Oh, what a shock. It’s not like you know everything there is about the Maggia, along with the history of the Gulf of Naples.

While Beatrice goes to the kitchen to check on the food -made by their staff, of course- Natasha looks around the room. You know that inquiring look, as she evaluates every threat and possible complication should you be compromised.

To help her ease into the environment, you take her hand in yours, feeling less exposed because you’re in front of other people who should believe your relationship is real. The mission is the only way you can justify your desire to feel Natasha’s touch.

By the time Beatrice comes back, Alessandro is right behind her and he introduces himself. His clothes scream old money, and the watch on his wrist screams fucking loaded of ilegal money as well.

“This wine is magnificent” he comments when you sit down and begin to eat.

“Le Lune del Vesuvio” you say, looking at Natasha across the table. “We spent our honeymoon in Italy and I just had to drag Nat to Pompeii for a tour”

“Are you familiar with the region?” Alessandro asks and you nod, having practiced everything.

“Yes, I did my dissertation on cultural identity in Pompeii”

“She’s a genius, my wife” Natasha says with a smile, impressed at how much detail you’re putting on everything to keep them engaged.

“Well, Beatrice’s family, the Fortunatos are from the same area. The Costas are from Sicily. So we are very happy to hear that you know it so well”

“How did you two meet?” Beatrice pivots, and Natasha is happy to answer.

“I was working on a client’s divorce settlement and needed an art expert. Y/N was the only one with the knowledge to help our lawfirm. A divorce brought us together” she says, looking at you with a smile.

Such a romantic.

“Oh, that’s lovely. Well, not for the divorced couple. But not everyone can get a happy ending, I suppose” Beatrice says.

It’s your turn to ask the usual questions and Natasha acts surpirsed, following up the way any normal person would, as if you don’t know every single detail about their lives and criminal record already.

When the conversation pivots to Alessandro, you perk up. This has proven to be the hardest part of the mission, as he keeps a tight leash on all their financial records through obscure third parties.

“You know, I also teach some finance classes. Would you be open to giving a lecture on art appraising? I think it’s an interesting market” he turns to you.

“That would be interesting” you say, groaning internally. Now you’re gonna have to actually work on a presentation, for fuck’s sake. Nobody told you you were gonna be quizzed to this extent during the mission.

Natasha hides her smile with the glass of wine, and you kick her under the table. Her smile fades just a little, but you can still see the teasing in her eyes.

She’s having too much fun with this.

—

The next morning you wake up to a note from Natasha. She’s picking up a “special” package, which means she’s coordinating with Maria the next stage of the mission.

You’re surprised to find a bouquet of flowers adorning the dining table.

Natasha is doing her share of the mission and you have to focus on yours, which is the fucking presentation. There better not be a Q&A session or you’ll lose your damn mind.

Moving to the study that also works as a surveillance room, you pull out your computer and begin to work. To be fair, you enjoy art enough to know more about it than the regular person. You had also been in contact with appraisers and auction houses back in your Interpol days, as you tracked ilegal art dealers.

For obvious reasons, you can’t mention that bit.

You’ve been working for a couple of hours when you hear the front door open, Natasha hurrying up the steps.

“Hey” she says with a frown.

“Everything ok?”

“You didn’t answer my text. Have you even taken a break to eat?” she puts down a heavy box in front of you.

“Sorry, I was preparing for the lecture”

“I got you your favorite food for lunch. And did you see the bouquet?” Natasha insists.

“Uh, I did… but is there a reason for…?”

“You seriously don’t remember?”

“Is it our fake first date anniversary, baby?” you tease, leaning forward. Natasha’s so worked up it's almost comical.

“Y/N, it’s your birthday”

“What?!” you turn to look at the calendar. “Holy crap, how could I have forgotten my own birthday?”

You are so focused on the mission, this completely slipped your mind. What were you supposed to do any way? Being undercover meant cutting off contact with the rest of the world. The timing sucks, but work is your priority right now.

“Work on that thing tomorrow. You should be resting and having a special day”

“Nat, it’s fine. It won’t be the first or last birthday that I’m stuck at work” you sigh, rubbing your eyes.

“Please?” she reaches for your hand, and the gesture is so gentle that your heart skips a beat. Natasha is very serious about taking the day off.

“Ok” you nod, and the hint of a smile can be seen on her face as you take her hand. She gets plates for the both of you and even agrees to watch Project Runway, which she loathes and you love. Without either one of you noticing, you end up across the couch, your legs on her lap.

“Our dinner reservation is at seven” she says, her hand going up and down your thigh.

“Dinner?”

“What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t take you to dinner?” Natasha smiles, making you blush.

“Well, no one really knows it’s my birthday, so…”

You leave out the most obvious part of how her logic is flawed: you are not even married.

“I know it’s your birthday. Come on. Just let me spoil you once?”

You clear your throat and nod, afraid that if you speak, your voice will give away how much those words affect you. Natasha telling you she wants to spoil you?

That alone is the best birthday gift you’ve ever gotten.

—

It’s honestly a lot more than you could have asked for. The restaurant is beautiful, the food is amazing, and Natasha is looking at you in that special way that makes you feel so happy and confused at the same time.

If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn you saw love in her beautiful emerald eyes.

“How’s your food?”

“Here” you take a forkful of your pasta and offer it to her.

“Really good. Almost as good as the one we had in… where was it? Naples?” Natasha teases, and you smile.

“That’s the city. The whole region is actually really beautiful… maybe I should take some of that time off and travel again” you ponder, thinking about how life has been all about work for the past years.

“Where would you go? Aside from Naples?”

“Sorrento, Lecce, maybe Positano. I don’t know, I guess I’d spend it around the south, just because the food is that good” you sigh, dreamily.

“How come you know so much about it?” Natasha inquires, smiling softly.

“My parents owned a house, because my grandparents were from Salerno. So we’d all spent every summer there, until they sold the property” you explain, letting the waiter take your empty plate. The memory of hot days, cold water and delicious food comes back to you, coupled with the places you’d visit, driving everywhere with your family.

“So, maybe you were destined to be on this mission” Natasha says, smiling.

“I don’t know if destined or it was Fury messing with me” you slip up, hurrying to take a sip of your wine. He had teased you endlessly about your crush on Natasha, and he was probably laughing his ass off as he prepared your identities.

“Whatever it was, I’m happy we’re in this together” Natasha admits, smiling to you.

“Me too” you agree in a low voice. Then, you look at her and smile mischeviously. “So, since it’s my birthday, can we get a nice dessert?”

“I’m already on it” Natasha raises her hand, the man bringing a plate with a slice of chocolate cake and a candle. “Make a wish”

What could you possibly wish for? You wanted to spend time with Natasha, get to know her, have her look at you the way she was doing right now.

Your wish was granted already. Still, you smile, and lean forward to blow out the candle.

—

“Maybe this is a bad idea”

Natasha is hovering. Hovering and following you and asking all kinds of questions while you prepare your bag.

“It’s gonna be fine” you say, again.

“It’s too risky”

“All I have to do is place this phone next to his computer” you lift the device that Maria sent. “And we’ll have access to his files”

“What if he notices?”

“I better run fast then” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “I’m a SHIELD agent, not a history nerd with no fighting skills”

“Except you are a history nerd” she mutters and you turn to glare at her.

“You know what, Romanoff”

“Can I at least drive you there?”

There’s a moment of hesitation on your side. Does she think you’ll screw up the mission? Or is she actually worried about you? Either way, she looks conflicted and there’s no reason to not give her some peace of mind.

“Alright”

On the way to the lecture, you review your notes, missing the way Natasha smiles at the things you’re saying about the subjective value of art and how it has changed throughout history.

Such a nerd.

“I’ll be in a cafe monitoring everything. Call me when you’re done and I’ll pick you up”

“Yes, darling wife” you say with a slightly mocking tone, the same way you always call her your wife in public, but with no one else around.

As you exit the car and walk towards the university, Natasha calls for you.

“I didn’t get to wish you good luck” she explains, pulling you close and kissing you softly. “Good luck”

“T-thanks” you say, out of breath.

Natasha nods, letting you walk as if she didn’t just do the sweetest thing in the world.

You try not to think about how much you’ll miss this when the mission’s over.

But now you have to stay focused.

Alessandro waves his hand in the air, and you walk towards him with a smile.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this”

“It’s not a problem, really”

It totally is, you criminal motherfucker.

“Oh, I forgot my laptop, could I use yours? I have the deck on a flash drive”

Alessandro hesitates for a second, but his mask slips back to place instantly. If you really were a regular person, you never would have noticed his concern.

It means he keeps everything hidden there.

“Sure. Let me just…” he quickly types his password, and you look around the classroom, pulling out the phone and placing it on the table next to his computer. “All set”

“Thank you”

As the slideshow is projected in the auditorium, you look around the room, feeling more confident.

“So, how much would you guys pay for a banana taped to a wall?”

—

“I’m telling you, he keeps everything there” you say to Natasha, browsing through the device. “There’s some encryption, though”

“My expertise”

“Show off”

“Let’s get something to eat” she changes the subject.

“You don’t wanna go back home and check if it’s working?”

“I think a few hours won’t make a difference. We won’t be long, detka”

You think Fury would disagree, but she’s calling you detka and your gayness outweights your sense of duty.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything you want”

“Pizza”

“Anything but pizza” she says, making a face and you laugh.

“Natasha!”

“Sushi” she proposes.

“Fine, sushi it is”

The evening is spent talking about everything but the mission, and by the time you’re driving back home, all you want to do is get in bed and sleep.

“Where are you going?” you ask when Natasha walks to the study.

“You did your part, now I have to work” she explains with a smile.

“Fine” you close the door to the bedroom, joining her in the study. “Either way you’re gonna wake me up when you come back to bed. Might as well help you now”

“Sure” she says, even though you know next to nothing about code and hacking.

While she works on the computer, you look at the window, yawning and stretching in the couch.

Natasha finds out that Pluto is the banking organization they use for their covert operations. To access the accounts she needs a code-string of numbers.

“How many numbers?” you ask, half asleep.

“Six”

“Not coordinates. Could be dates. Most of them like to write down the dates of their oldest founders' tombstones anywhere they can, like a fucking tramp stamp” you joke, falling asleep. “Get into the database and try those”

“Maybe…” Natasha begins to say, but when she turns around you’re snoring.

And what does she know, you are right, the key to the algorithm is based on tombstones’ dates. Talk about morbid.

“Nerd” Natasha says affectionately. Deciding it is enough work for the day, she closes the laptop, helping you up to your shared bedroom.

Truth is, she’s not ready to finish this mission.

—

The end is near, you both can tell. With the encryption finished and the communications that you have intercepted, SHIELD has enough to arrest them.

According to the conversations you recorded, the exchange is set to happen two weeks from today. So you have two more weeks of fake domestic bliss. And then back to being just colleagues.

“I’ll be home as soon as I have a response” Natasha says.

“See you later” you say from your spot in the couch.

“No good luck kiss?” she jokes, referring to the time she said goodbye to you before the lecture.

But you’re not messing around when you stand up and place a chaste kiss on her cheek. If these are the last two weeks you get to do this without being questioned, you’ll make the most of them.

“Be safe”

“You too” she smiles, squeezing your hand.

The sun is setting, but you don’t feel like cooking anything or watching television. Instead, you decide to go out for a run, passing by the Costa mansion out of curiosity.

“Hey, neighbor” Beatrice greets with her signature wave. She often looks like royalty waving at the commoners. “Want some refreshments?”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m just out for a short run”

“Come on, you could use some rest! I’d love to hear how the presentation went”

Feeling cornered, you nod, stepping foot inside her mansion. Beatrice has a glass of lemonade ready, which surprises you, but you take it and sip slowly.

Damn, even her lemonade tastes amazing.

“Heard those students were fascinated by your presentation” she encourages you to speak, and you nod, the movement making you a bit fuzzy.

“It was fun… yeah”

“Everything ok?” Beatrice comes close to inspect your face, and you try to step back. Your leg gives in, so you end up on the floor.

“I’m not sure…”

It isn’t until the very last second you understand the woman drugged you.

—

Everything is upside down or so you feel as you struggle to open your eyes.

“See? I told you she’d be fine”

“Oh, shut it. We’ve been waiting for hours” a man says and you blink several times. Their names come back to you slowly.

The mission.

Was your cover blown?

“Y/N, dear, I do apologize. My wife may have overdone it with the clonazepam” Alessandro says. You try to move, but your hands are tied behind your back. “Yes, about that. Don’t worry, we won’t keep you here for long. We just really need to use your connections in the art world to smuggle a tiny, tiny thing”

Good news (for you). The cover is safe.

Bad news (for them). Natasha is gonna kill them.

It looks like you’re in an abandoned warehouse, and judging by the sound, it’s close to the river.

“Yeah, uh… look. I don’t know how to say this, but you’d be better off crossing the border, whichever one. South, north”

“I’m not following” Beatrice says.

“Well, I’m afraid Natasha’s gonna kill you when she finds you two” you grimace, almost feeling sorry for them. They truly don’t know what’s coming.

“No offense, but I think a Maggia family will be more than safe from…”

“The Black Widow?” you say, with a smug smile.

“Bullshit” Beatrice snaps, pulling you by the hair. “Stop the nonesense and help us out. Or we’ll send you home to your loving wife in a body bag”

There’s a loud crash outside of the warehouse, and a widow bite is shot close to Beatrice’s foot as a warning.

“Hands off my girl” Natasha says, gun raised and pointing at Alessandro. “You ok, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Sorry for missing dinner”

“It’s fine. We’ll heat it up when we get home” Natasha jokes. With a nod, you throw yourself to the floor, shattering the chair. Beatrice throws a couple of punches, and she’s quite the fighter.

While Natasha is engaged in battle with Alessandro, the woman escapes and you’re following close behind. The drug is still in your system, and you can tell by the way your steps are a little clumsy.

Beatrice leads you to the edge of the river and you catch up to her out of breath.

“It’s over” you say, hearing Natasha step right behind you.

“Cap’s got the other one. Let’s bring this one in” she says, walking past you. She fails to see the gun that Beatrice is hiding, and you push Natasha out of the way. The bullet passes between you both and you launch your body against Beatrice, knocking her down.

Still, your diziness makes you lose your footing and you fall to the river.

“Rogers, Hill!” Natasha calls over comms, borderline hysterical. “Someone come in”

“I’m here, Romanoff” Tony says, flying over the redhead.

“What the hell took you so long?”

Tony’s suit scans the river and finds you.

“She’s ok, I’m getting her out now. Handcuff our suspect there”

Natasha turns to glare at Beatrice, punching her so hard she’s knocked out.

“Bitch” Natasha says, handcuffing her.

Maria approaches to make sure Natasha doesn’t kill Beatrice, while the redhead sprints towards the spot where Tony drops you off.

“Are you ok? What hurts?”

“J-just cold” you mutter, holding on to her hands.

“Let’s take her to the Medbay. Romanoff, stay so you can lead the rest of the mission” Steve says.

“Are you out of your damn mind?” Natasha screams so loud that every agent on the scene turns to look at her. “I’m going with her to the hospital, I don’t give a crap about your mission, Rogers”

“Tasha, I’m fine” you insist, but enjoy the way she pulls you against her, her hands on your lower back. Natasha kisses the top of your head, leading you to a car that will drive you to SHIELD’s medical facility.

Fury turns to look at Hill, amused.

“Remember our little bet?”

Maria rolls her eyes, annoyed. She pulls out a twenty dollar bill and reluctantly hands it to her boss.

“So not fair”

—

Bruised ribs, a potential cold from your night swim and a minor concussion. All things considered, it could have been a hell of a lot worse.

Natasha seems to disagree, which is why she pushes to postpone the mission debriefing.

“You need to rest” is all she says.

Back in your old room, you shower, enjoying the hot water and clean clothes. Natasha is still sitting on your bed when you walk out of the bathroom.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep without you” she confesses shyly, which makes you smile.

“Me neither”

“I thought I lost you”

“I got lucky. Those two idiots actually thought I was an art dealer” you chuckle.

“You’re a very convincing art nerd” Natasha teases, and you want to pull back but she grabs you by the waist. “I wish I still had two more weeks”

“It doesn’t have to be just two weeks” you say, running your hand through her hair. “I don’t want to pretend to be with you, Natasha. I want to be with you, for real”

“Yeah?” she looks up at you, a guarded expression on her face.

Instead of answering, you lean forward, kissing her softly until she pulls you to straddle her lap.

“You know, we never consumated our marriage”

“Seems like we should get on with it” you laugh as she flips you over, making you lie on your back.

“Just as long as you don’t fake an orgasm” she jokes, kissing every inch of your body.

“Promise I won’t”

Your reality turns out better than any undercover mission could ever be.

[persefolli]

𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐓𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖, 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐡, 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞, 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐀𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐓𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜-𝐃𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐧

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

Annoyance filled your body as Stu sat on the couch laughing dramatically and talking loudly to his friends. You didn’t like going to the parties Stu hosted because he paid no attention to you. He only cared about his stupid friends and impressing him, leaving you to baby a drunk Stu at the end of the night. 

“Baby, go grab us a coupla beers okay?”

“Stu this is the third time-”

“Please?” He poked out his bottom lip. “This is the last time. I'll give you 20 bucks.”

You squint your eyes.  “50.”

“Okay fuck. 50.”

You got up from the couch and squeezed past a few people to get to the garage. The room was humid and eerie, so you quickly clicked on the light and walked down the wooden stairs to get to the fridge. Bending over, you looked for the brand of beers Stu liked.

Behind you, the lights were cut off.

“Fuck.” You cursed but still didn't make any urgent moves. You picked up four beers and closed the door. You jumped seeing a person in a ghostface mask and cloak on by the garage entrance. 

“Stu. Is that you?”

The person shook their head. “Okay well…maybe you shouldn't wear that around Sidney.”

The person slowly walked down the stairs, backing you away from the garage stairs. “This isn't fucking funny. Back the fuck up.”

The figure drew a knife and you gasped as he slashed it at you. You dropped the beer bottles and around the garage, throwing storage bins down to block their path to you. Quickly, you tried to dash to the garage door but got tackled down by the person. You screamed but your mouth was quickly covered by the perpetrator. Reaching up, you gripped the mask and slid it off, exposing your boyfriend's best friend. 

“Billy?!” You gasped in fear.

Billy groaned and kept a tight grip on your wrists to stop you from moving any more.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

Realization dawned on your face, he was more than serious about trying to kill you. “You killed all those people….”

“Not just me.” He stated.

You shook your head in confusion.

“Stu. Y/n. You’re sleeping with my partner in crime.”

You felt a surge of anger and kicked Billy in the groin, causing him to groan and write on the floor in pain. “Are you fucking sick?!”

“You knew I was sick baby.” He chuckled whilst on the ground.

“How would your best friend feel if he found out you tried to kill his girlfriend?!”

“Who do you think sent me?”

Your heart dropped. Stu sent Billy to kill you? Why?

“He knows?”

“Nah.” Billy leans his head against the ground. “He’s just a little…ya know.”

You crossed your arms and shook your head, looking down at Billy. “And you were actually gonna do it.” Your voice cracked and Billy looked at you with a somber expression.

“I was....I'm supposed to. I haven't decided on it yet.”

“You-”

“Hey!” He interrupted. “I decided not to…just to give you a good scare. But now that you know….killing you would benefit me more.” He shrugged. “If I kill you now…Stu won’t be mad. You can’t tell Sidney about us, and no one would know I'm the killer……but I do enjoy your company…a lot more than I should.” He stood up and dusted himself off. “You know I slowed down on the killings after we started fucking you know.” He approached you slowly. “So I guess that means you do benefit me in some way.”

You placed your hands on your head and groaned. This was deeper than a sadistic prick going around town killing teenagers, these were your friends, your lovers doing this for the fun of it.

“If I let you go. You need to disappear for a bit.”

“What?”

“Listen.” He grabbed your arm tightly. “I can’t let you back in there…Stu needs to think you’re dead and gone. And you can’t go home either because Tatum or Sid might visit.”

“So where the fuck do I go you dipshit?!”

Billy looked to the doggie door that was on the garage door. “You hide out in my backseat and I drive you to my place, yeah?”

“I’m not sitting in your backseat for hours!” You bickered back at him.

“It’s either that or the knife!” He said harshly.

You weighed your options and sighed deeply. You went over to the dog door and looked back at him, angrily before getting on your hands and knees and start to crawl through.

Billy walked over to the door and clicked the garage button, making the mechanisms hum. You screamed loudly and pulled yourself back, looking at Billy and whimpering. He was laughing and clicked the button again, causing the garage door to go back down, leaving the two of you in the empty garage with the echoes of his laughter. “It's not funny!” You snapped, feeling yourself tear up.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” 

You crawled out the door and avoided detection from any of the partygoers. You found Billy’s car and tugged on the back door, opening it and getting in the backseat as he told you.

There was no way to trust he wasn’t leading you to your death, but here you were.

Hours passed and you sat in the backseat, wondering why you didn’t just call for help, why you didn’t just snitch on Billy and Stu and end this town’s horror. As every hour passed the less you wanted to be entrapped in the car. The urge to get out and scream for help increased. 

One more hour passed before Billy finally got in the front seat, dumping the ghost mask and suit in the back seat near you and starting the car. He said nothing as he pulled away from Stu’s home, and it made you nervous. You watched him through the rearview mirror, studying his frustrated face. He locked eyes with you in the mirror, and began talking. “He didn’t even care, you know. He got off on the fact you’ll be found in a ditch soon.”

You looked out the window, watching the trees and fields pass by. “Why did he wanna kill me?” You asked again. 

“Tatum is his type so he needed a way to get with her without fucking up the friendship dynamic.”

“So his solution was to kill me!”

“I just made all that up.” Billy scoffed. “So fucking gullible. That’s probably why, you're such a dumbass. How the fuck would I know why he wants you dead. He just does.”

You leaned against the back seat, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You weren’t the nicest to Stu at times, and you certainly weren;t the perfect girlfriend…cheating on him…stuff like that, but you didn’t think it would end up in a murder plot against you. 

“Stop that.” Billy scolded. “You’re no saint and neither am I….but you don’t deserve this…for once.”

You wiped your eyes and nodded. “How was the rest of the party? Did anyone notice me gone.”

“The girls yeah.” He turned onto a highway. “But I fucked Sid’s brains out so i’m sure that’ll have her distracted for a while.”

You smiled softly, “Finally.”

The two of you made it to Billy’s home, which was lightless and dark, due to the fact his parents weren’t there. He led you to the garage, where he spent most of his time, or so he said. None of you had actually been to his place, so seeing his abode felt very intimate. He let you into the garage and you saw a decorated room with a bed, posters, and sketches everywhere. You walked over to the drawers and the vinyl stacks he had. Billy huffed and sat on the mattress.

“This is not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” He asked.

“I don’t know…you don’t take me as an artist. Not a person who draws anyways.”

He grunts and stares at the ceiling. You took off your jacket and shoes, getting into the bed next to him. You laid on his chest and watched as he pondered. “Why do you sleep in the garage and not that beautiful house out there?”

“That's not home.” He says. “A home…has a family in it. And it’s warm, and…rustic. Nothing in there has been used, it's cold, and no one is ever there. Barely.”

“You could make it a home.”

“Don’t need all that space. And I need privacy.”

You looked around, this did seem like a ‘Billy hideout’ by definition. 

“Not even a crinkle in the sheets. We have a housekeeper that comes and cleans nothing.”

Things had been really rough for Billy after his mother left, and you knew almost nothing about it. Pillowtalk didn’t really exist with Billy, it did, but it wasn't the share-your-deepest-darkest-secrets-and-profess-your-love kind of pillow talk. 

“Billy-”

“I killed Sidney’s mom a year ago.”

You sat up quickly and looked at him in horror. “What?!”

Sidney was almost inconsolable after the death of her mother, and Billy, along with you and the rest of the friend group comforted her, making sure she would never have to go through anything alone again. You slept over at Sidneys for four months after the death of her mother. 

“Her mom was a whore.”

“Billy thats not-”

“If she hadn’t fucked my dad….”

You placed your hand over Billy’s lips, which caused him to furrow his eyebrows. “You’re getting yourself riled up.”

Billy took a deep breath and slapped your hand from his mouth. “If she hadn’t fucked my dad we wouldn’t be in this predicament would we?”

“Why didn’t you take revenge on…I don't know, your dad?!”

Billy’s eyes relaxed and he smirked. “Why would I do that?”

You groaned and shook your head. “I think you’re the mad one.”

“I’m sorry? Did I not just save your life from your crazy boyfriend.”

“And I ended up with an even crazier son of a bitch.”

Billy was quick to grab your throat and pin you under him, causing you to gasp and grab his wrist in fear. You looked at him in horror as he tightened his grip. He was going to strangle you.

“Billy no!” You choked out. Billy squeezed tighter and tighter until he leaned down and pressed a harsh kiss to your lips. He released his grip and you coughed under him, crying softly as the heat of the moment ended. “You’re so easy to scare.” He used his thumb to wipe your tears.

You hic’ed and tried to push him away from you. “It’s not funny.”

“Hey, hey, hey, I'm sorry.” He placed another kiss on your cheek.

Billy got up from the bed and went over to his vinyl stacks, he dug through them for a bit before putting on some relaxing music. You didn’t know the band or genre, but you were too frozen in shock to care. You heard his belt unbuckle and shifting before he got back into bed with you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He caressed your cheek. “You just need to learn when to shut the fuck up okay?”

You nodded, and he placed another kiss on your lips. You didn’t reciprocate. He kept kissing your lips, then your neck, then your cheek, then your collar bone.

“I won’t stop til you forgive me.”

You felt his hands go under your arms, causing a giggle to emit from your throat.

“See? You can't even stay mad.”

“I am mad!” You giggled as he continued to tickle you. “Stop! You’re cheating.”

He continued tickling you until you sat up and shoved him. The two of you panted as the fight was over, and you scanned him, noting how he was only in his boxers now. He tilted his head and you groaned.

“Billy no.”

“Cmon, it's been a long night.”

“Billy you just fucked Sidney.”

“You think I came from that?” He scoffed.

You shook your head, “You are hell on earth.” You moved to take off your shirt, and Billy wasted no time grabbing you by your waist and pulling you onto his lap. He leaned against his headboard and peppered kisses on your chest as he unclasped your bra. Throwing your bra onto the garage floor he redirected himself to your tits, kissing and sucking on your nipples, causing you to writhe and moan.

Your noises made a beeline right to his dick, causing him to pull you down onto his hardening member. You held his head and groaned as he sucked on your breasts, taking his time to stimulate you.

His hands trailed down your waist and began tugging at your shorts. You used your right hand to unbutton your jean shorts and shifted away from him to slide them off. He grunted from the loss of contact. He was right on your wavelength, sliding off your panties right after the shorts and throwing them aside. Billy pulled you right back into his lap, moaning as he latched onto your lips.

“You're so needy tonight.” You said between breaths.

“I just need to come.” He pulled you back to kiss him. You began rocking your hips, creating friction between the both of you. He pulled away and looked down, watching how you wettened a spot on his boxers. He hummed and guided your hips, mumbling and panting as pleasure filled his body.

“Get up.” He said.

You rolled to your side and he quickly yanked down his boxers, springing excitedly in front of you.

He moved to climb on top of you but you clicked your tongue.

“Condom. You just fucked Sid.”

“With the only condom I had.” He mumbled in your neck and began rubbing his tip between your folds. You groaned softly and mentally chastised him. “I promise.” He kissed your neck.

“I need you.” He tested the limits by sticking the tip in and pulling out, causing you to moan in need.

“Okay fuck it.”

Billy entered you with a swift motion and you both let out a synchronous groan. He held a tight grip on your hips as he fucked you. You squealed and drug your nails along his back, stopping right above his buttocks and digging into the skin. Billy hissed and nipped at your bottom lip, moving more vigorously above you. You throbbed around him and he faltered, shivering above you.

“Don't fucking do that. Don't. Don't.” He pleaded into your neck as his strokes got more sloppy.

“Don't do what?” You whimpered as you did it again, causing him to hiss and strain as he held back.

“I'm gonna fucking come inside of you.” He kissed behind your ear. “You fucking asked for it. You wanted this.”

“No!” You moaned in delight. You could protest all you wanted, but you felt too good to get him off of you. The two of you panted louder, moaned louder, fucked harder until the two of you came undone in each others embrace.  You curled your toes and panted breathless and he filled you up.

Billy rolled on his side and stared at the ceiling as he caught his breath. He sighed and patted your stomach twice before getting up.

As predicted, Tatum and Sidney began putting up missing posters for you, and Stu had to go around school acting like the heartbroken, devastated boyfriend. 

Afterschool, Tatum was the one to comfort Stu, rubbing his back as Sidney and Randy came up with ideas as to where you went. Billy was pretty indifferent to it all, knowing you were probably laid out on his bed listening to music. Stu listened to Randy and Sidney, but his mind wandered, looking over at Billy, and then the floor, where he saw a familiar pair of panties hanging from the pocket of Billy’s backpack.

[bizarrelovetriangel]

no time.

mdni. 18+ only. not for the kids, please look away. car sex. public sex. kinda rough sex. fingering. overstimulation. creampie because zayne loves them. jealous zayne.

You, along with Captain Jenna and several other hunters, have been invited to attend a formal party hosted by one of the association's long time business partners.

You were allowed to bring a plus-one, so naturally, you brought your lover; however...

Zayne finds himself eager to leave the event as he struggles to restrain himself.

You were encouraged to attend the party. Firstly, you're in good terms with the host, and it'd be a nice gesture to accept their invitation. Secondly, most of your colleagues will be attending. Lastly, the setting is lovely: a mansion by a cliffside.

It is a little far from the city, but you figured a little road trip with Zayne wouldn't be too bad. You two have not gone on a date in a while due to your busy schedules, so this can be considered as one.

Zayne asked you what you will be wearing for the party so he can match your colors, so you sent him a picture of your dress: a navy blue, floor-length chiffon dress, off-shoulder with a left high-slit.

That's why, when he showed up at your apartment two hours before the party, you were not expecting him to freeze and look at you starstruck as he stood by the doorframe of your bedroom.

"What's wrong? Zayne?"

You waved a hand in front of his face, and he snaps out of the trance before intertwining your fingers together and planting a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"You look beautiful."

He says that to you so often. When you're wearing a pretty dress, when you're wearing your work uniform, when you're wearing pajamas, and when you're wearing nothing at all. Even so, it never fails to make you feel flustered.

And no matter how many times says it, Zayne's ears are always turning red. His eyes would shift away from your face for a brief second, because he, too, still gets shy.

"Thank you." You smiled and run a hand over his chest, particularly to feel the navy blue cross-over tie he wore with his three-piece steel blue and white suit . "You look great too, Doctor Zayne~"

He gives you a look: that playful frown with furrowed brows that he likes to give you whenever you add his title before his name. He says you don't have to add 'doctor' when you're in private, but you can't help but do it sometimes simply to get that adorable reaction on his face.

"Anyways, just give me five minutes then we can go. I just need to pin this stupid strand of hair that doesn't wanna stay down!"

While you returned to stand in front of the mirror, furiously mumbling under your breath while fixing your hair, Zayne crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame to observe your dress again. This time he lets his eyes slowly take everything in.

From the silver necklace you wore on your neck, to your soft shoulders, your chest with that slightly teases the valley of your breasts, your smooth thigh exposed by the slit of the skirt, and your feet on your black high-heels.

"Ugh! Still won't stay in place! What if I just cut them off - Zayne?!"

Your hair tantrum was interrupted as Zayne suddenly came up behind you and wrapped arm around your waist, embracing you against his chest.

His lips trailed down, starting from your neck, down to your collar bones, and then to your cleavage.

"Zayne - "

He got your lips too.

And now, his mouth is smeared with red lipstick that painted your own.

You pulled away to point that out but he immediately went after your lips, going in deeply so his tongue grazes yours. You closed your eyes and gave in, sinking into the blissful feeling he's giving you.

Just then, your phone makes a ping, notifying you of a message and bringing you back to reality.

You caught a glimpse of your lockscreen and saw that the text was from Simone, letting the group chat know that she will be arriving at the party in about thirty minutes.

"Oh no!" You jumped away from Zayne as you frantically picked up your purse. "We have to get go! We're gonna be late!"

"Right."

For someone who likes to be punctual, Zayne didn't look like he's in a rush to leave, but you didn't have the time to worry about that now.

///////

There was quite a number of guests in the party. Not only are there hunters invited, other business partners are also parading all around the mansion, drinking cocktails as they socialize.

Not too long after you got there, you greeted your fellow hunters and took a few group pictures. The event's host had quickly chatted with all of you before her attention was stolen away by other important visitors, leaving you to enjoy the delicious food prepared for the night.

All the meals are out on three tables so that the guests can get anything they want. After filling your stomachs with savory food, you returned for another trip to get dessert.

Zayne got stuck in a long conversation after meeting another doctor around his sixties, so you decided to get some sweet treats for him too.

While at the desserts table, you ran into a familiar face: a high-ranking police officer that you've worked with several times around Linkon Wanderer-incidents.

"No way! It's been a while since I saw you!" He beams, rushing over to you and almost spilling his red wine on his white suit. "You look great! Been working out, huh? Your biceps are getting bigger than mine."

He reached out a hand to press your right arm playfully.

"Heh. I have been working out, actually." Ever since you started working out with Zayne, you've been more motivated and saw good results in no time.

"You still got ways to catch up to me though." The police man says teasingly while flexing his arms, making you chuckle.

As he was giving you a pose to show off his muscles, a much bigger and taller man comes up behind him, clearing his throat.

"Here you are, darling. I thought you'd gotten lost."

Zayne walked in front of you, completely blocking off your view of the police man.

"Ah, sorry! I was just getting you dessert." You held up the plate to show him what you got. "I had to get the most perfect macaron for you."

The corner of Zayne's lips twitched upwards as you took one blue macaron with one hand. He leaned down to give it a small bite. "It's good." He then put a hand on your waist. "Maybe we should take extras to bring home and eat later before bed."

"Pfft. You'd eat them all in the car on the way back."

He eyes you with disbelief. "I have better self control than you think."

"That's what you said last time before eating my Taiyaki."

Zayne had no good excuses so he opted out on responding to you. Instead, his gaze landed on your friend, who almost shivered at the sudden cold breeze he felt.

"I better get back to my table! It was good to see you again! Let's catch up some time, okay?"

"Sure! See you!"

////////

You paused from taking a sip of your non-alcoholic drink.

"What are you doing?"

"Enjoying dessert."

You narrowed your eyes at him.

"You....."

From under the table, hidden by the white cloth, Zayne had a hand on your left thigh, the leg exposed from the dress' slit. At first, you didn't mind it, as he likes to do that sometimes. Though, once he started moving up, dangerously close to your underwear, you gripped your glassware tightly.

The lights are dimmed. The host is giving a speech about why they held the party, which is to celebrate a milestone regarding their business. You're trying your best to pay attention but someone is distracting you.

Your chair was pulled to the left, leaving no space between you and Zayne. His hand continued to crawl up until you felt his fingers between your thighs.

"Zayne..."

He leaned close to you and whispered, "Shall we head home?"

"...Not yet. They're still giving a speech."

He hums in response.

Then, over your panty, his fingers started sliding up and down, ever so slightly putting a gentle pressure into your core.

You forced yourself to drink to stop yourself from making any noise that'll attract attention on you. Luckily, your table is at the back, and there's a safe distance between you and the others around you.

"Are you sure you don't wanna go home? You don't look well." Zayne uses his free hand to caress your face. "You're getting hot. Maybe you should see a doctor."

"...."

He's certainly in a mood.

You should've known something stirred inside him when you caught his eyes darkening after you spoke with your policeman friend.

"Just....a few more minutes...."

///////

Zayne grips the steering wheel of his car as he focuses on the dark road ahead. He lets out a slow, ragged breath, wanting to accelerate faster but refusing to break the safest speed limit, especially since they're on the mountainside road and so high up. He has to drive carefully.

But it was difficult to focus on anything when he has a beautiful lover next to him and a straining cock trapped in his pants.

He did that to himself. He was the one that started it, and yet, he can't even keep himself in control long enough to get home.

He wanted you.

But he was also feeling irked. Not at you, but at the memory of that guy touching your arm. Maybe you didn't catch it, but Zayne did. The way your friend's eyes scanned you up and down before approaching you.

What was that saying? You can look, but you can't touch?

Your friend failed the second part. Sure, it was just your arm, but still...

"Ugh."

Zayne exits at a resting area and stops the car at a designated parking spot. At this time, it's almost pitch black and there are no other cars and people around. It's just you two and the stars and the moon above you.

"What's wrong?" you asked worriedly. "Is something wrong with the car or - "

Zayne removes his seatbelt then turns to you. "Nothing's wrong."

"Huh? So then why did we stop - "

He leans over towards you and presses his lips against yours. His right hand clicked on the button to unfasten your seatbelt before holding your hips.

His tongue makes its way in your mouth to greet yours as he pulls you close with desperation. You encouraged his forwardness by gripping his collars and running one hand down his chest.

Zayne hums against your lips as he exerts more force into the kiss, sliding one hand down to your exposed thigh.

He needed you closer.

He swiftly adjusted his seat, scooting it all the way back. He then put one arm under both of your legs and the other arm on your back.

You let out a surprise gasp as Zayne picked you up from your seat and put you on his lap. It didn't take a second for you to notice his arousal poking hard against your ass.

You were so busy in trying to keep yourself calm, to stop yourself from soaking your panties even more, so you didn't notice that Zayne was feeling just as turned on as you.

You had only been in the road for about fifteen minutes before he pulled over. You still had about a fourty to fifty minutes more to go to reach your apartment, a little more if the destination was his house.

Zayne couldn't wait anymore and neither could you.

You fixed your position so that you're facing him, legs wrapped around his hips, sitting on his clothed cock.

Before you could kiss him, Zayne buried his face against your neck and sucks your skin while his hands urges your hips to move back and forth.

You threw your head back to give him more space, doing as he wished and started to grind on him slowly.

You hurriedly removed his jacket and vest and unbuttoned his white buttoned up shirt just enough for you to feel his bare chest that's all warmed up with desire.

Once he left his mark on your neck, Zayne moved down to leave an identical one on your collar bones, then he presses his nose against the valley of your breast before dropping soft, feather kisses on them.

"Darling, I can't.... I need..." He takes a moment to catch his breath and speak fully. "I need you now. Here."

You rested your forehead against his. "Me too."

Zayne looked at you carefully, making sure you're certain with your response, before fully dropping all of his restraints.

He took off his glasses and put them in a safe spot before diving back to your lips with aggressive yet passionate kisses.

The sounds of your lips colliding against each other, along with your heavy breaths and fidgeting lower bodies were the only noise that can be heard in the dark, resting area.

With one hand supporting the small of your back, Zayne pulls your dress down and his mouth captures your right breast. His other hand found its way to your underwear, fingers toying with your core just like what he was doing earlier.

He lets out a content hiss at the feeling of your wet panty.

You're wet just for him and only for him.

"Zayne," you cried out his name as his fingers moved aside your underwear before entering you deeply, then out and in again at an uncontrollable pace.

He groans against your ear, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his crotch. You stroke him over his pants for a moment before undoing his buttons and zipper. You freed him from his boxers, and his stiff cock stained your palms with pre-cum.

Zayne felt you tightening up against his fingers, causing him to growl impatiently. He waited long enough. He wanted you the moment he stepped into your room and saw you wearing the dress with hair partly a mess. He can't wait another second.

He needs to be inside you.

"I'm sorry for this, love."

Before you could ask what he meant, your eyes widened as you felt your panty get torn off you. He lifted you up and thrusted into you, carefully but sharply with desperation.

He went in deeply and held you in place for a minute, taking in the warmth you'd sent all over his body. You felt him twitch as his eyes lingered on your face lit by the moonlight.

You eyes are half-lidded, your lips are parted apart, and quiet moans are coming from them, all because of him.

No one else gets to see you like this, and it will stay that way forever.

Closing his eyes, Zayne captured your lips once more before thrusting up to reach the deepest part of you. Your hands rested on his shoulders, echoing his ragged, loud gasps as you become one.

He grips your ass tightly as you rode him. Your hair that you worked so hard on maintaining had fallen out of place, but you still look beautiful. He'll always ravish the sight of you becoming undone because of him.

The windows have fogged up, and flakes of snow filled the steamy air inside the car. As Zayne feels himself losing control of his own body, his evol acts up and the sweat from your bodies have been turned to ice. His body was burning up with desire and yet, snowflakes danced around you.

His hips thusted eratically as he feels himself coming close. His fingers tightened their grip on your skin, and his mouth latches onto yours, muting the ecstatic cries that you let out.

Feeling your own climax nearing, you pressed your weight down on him harder, making sure that you feel all of him, and he feels every part of you.

The car was shaking from your movements, and your ears were filled with the sound of your flesh crashing against each other.

Zayne threw his head back with his eyes closed as his hips stuttered right before finishing right inside you. And yet still, he never stopped fucking you.

Even when you came not a minute after, he continued to go in and out of you. Even when you're both overstimulated, he wanted to prolong the moment.

He wanted to stay inside you, just for a little longer, until his body no longer had the energy to move.

"Zayne...!"

His cock slipped out of you, only for him to enter your ass.

"J-just once more, okay?" He kissed your forehead as he increased his pace again. You shut your eyes at the overwhelming sensation, feeling like you were going to explode.

He felt so, so good, all you could do was hold onto his shoulders and whimper.

You were so sure his fingers were going to leave marks on your skin with the way he was hanging onto you, but you didn't care. Not now, not when he looks so pretty, with his cheeks red, swollen, red-stained lips apart as he gasps for air. Not when he's fucking you without a care in the world except for his own high.

Zayne came for the second time, spilling all over your dress that were bunched up above your hips. You two took a moment to catch your breaths, with his cock pressed against your pussy, still twitching from his release.

He took a deep breath before pressing his lips on your cheek. "I'm sorry for going a little rough. Are you hurt anywhere?"

Your heart swelled at the softness in his voice. "I'm not hurt. I don't mind, Zayne. I don't mind when you lose control. Although...." you smiled and cupped his face with two hands. "You don't need to be jealous."

He pressed his forehead against yours. "So you caught on..."

"Of course I did." you grinned. "But you don't need to worry. There's no competition. There's only you."

He said nothing else. He planted a soft kiss on your hand and his eyes brightened as he gazed at you. He didn't need to say it out loud, but his eyes were full of love. That's all you needed to see.

"It's late." Zayne sighs, glancing at the time displayed on the car. "We still got a long way home."

"I don't mind."

"Neither do I."