#we’ll see what the finale brings

[oliviabear]

i caved (started working on a multi-chapter modern au oshamir fic😖)

[the-woman-upstairs]

Daniel taking more of a backseat during this session is, IMO, not only in deference to what is a highly traumatic memory for Louis, but also a calculated move on his part that speaks to the longer game he’s trying to play. He wants to take down Armand and remembering San Francisco just made it a real personal vendetta. But Armand can deflect Daniel’s blunt provocations (or at least suppress his reaction to them) pretty easily so that’s not going to work. Armand’s only weakness at this point in time is Louis. So it’s not only essential that Daniel stay on Louis’ good side, but also carefully nudge Louis to seeing the darker side to and duplicitous nature of Armand’s actions. This has already proven to work for him: at the end of episode 5, Daniel, in an uncharacteristically gentle tone, calmly led Louis to the conclusion he already reached about what (who) happened to both their memories. He’s indeed very careful all throughout the recollection of the trial to not be too flippant or interject too often. But when he does, outside of a few exceptions, he deliberately calls attention to Armand: his position in the narrative, the scope of his actions, emphasizing what he failed to do. It’s not quite enough to completely turn Louis against Armand, but seeds have been planted and I don’t believe it will take much more nudging from Daniel to send it all over the edge.

[harmonizewithechoes]

My five year old has his very first day of kindergarten tomorrow 🥺🥺🥺 I didn’t expect to be hit with such a huge wave of emotions but I’ve been a WRECK all day

[ravetillyoucry]

PUPARIA

Chapter 24: I Must Apologise

prev - chapter 1

Sitting in solitude on a desk a hundred times his size wasn't really how Hosah had planned to spend his days, but, lately, it's how he ended up.

There was something up with Teddy, that was for certain. Something on his mind, something that distracted him from what he should be putting all of his focus and attention onto- which, of course, was the shifter himself. It was unbelievably frustrating having to fight to be noticed by the man who was quite literally hired to assist him. Hosah couldn't help but feel sour the rest of the day, even when Teddy had returned, it was like he wasn't even there anyway with how distant he seemed.

The height difference was one thing, when the shifter was this small, he felt significantly further away from everyone else, even if it meant he could get objectively up close and personal as he lounged in their hands or on their shoulders. In order to be close to someone, Hosah had to be able to wrap his arms around them, intertwine fingers with eachother. Being tiny was no good for any of that.

He'd never particularly yearned to be normal, not until Teddy came along. The man did his best to made Hosah feel normal, he'd give him the credit for that, but the efforts he went to only served to make the shifter feel more and more alien by the day. Sometimes he truly thought Teddy had briefly mistaken him for some sort of stray animal with how he spoke or acted towards him.

How great it would be to grab the giant by his shirt, to shake him around and yell 'what is your problem?' until it all came spilling out. Unfortunately, when like this, the most Hosah could do was pull on his sleeve, maybe undo the button around his wrist, knowing how unbelievably frustrating those were to do-up. That didn't sound like half a bad idea, actually.

It couldn't have been their little fight that was still playing on Teddy's mind, surely. If it was, Hosah would desperately need to reconsider his choice in partnership, but for now, he'd choose to believe Teddy was more mature than that. Maybe it could've been-

"Hey." The voice cut straight through Hosah's line of thought, with a finger to go along with it poking into the side of his head. "What's up with you?"

What? Hosah swatted the finger away, momentarily speechless with confusion. How could Teddy be asking that, when he'd been acting weird for days now? The shifter scoffed once, then twice for good measure, his eyes on everything but the giant's before him.

"Nothing. Why, does something seem up? I'm fine." He spoke, his words trailing off into spluttering mutters, then silence.

Teddy loved to do this thing where, if he didn't believe a word the shifter was saying, he'd just stare, unmoving, until more excuses came up and out, with Hosah's yarn ball of a story completely unraveled into a mess of thread at the bottom of a hill. It was infuriating. Silently, the shifter sometimes thought their relationship felt more like a cat and mouse game than anything, but he kept that to himself in fear of being teased for such a ridiculous and strange thought.

After a good while of uninterrupted staring, Teddy blinked, and shrugged, "You just looked like you were thinking really hard about something."

What was really hard was the ability to play difficult when the giant smiled so casually, that stupid snaggletooth making the slightest dent in his bottom lip. Oh how badly Hosah wished to just rip it out, then maybe Teddy's face wouldn't have such an effect on him. At this point, the shifter would settle on just... Holding his face. He furrowed his brow at the thought. Not being able to grow and shrink at free will was incomprehensibly frustrating.

The worst part about Teddy's staring tactic was that it always worked.

"Well," Hosah sighed, his thumb tracing over his own knuckles whilst he took a brief glance at the giant's. Being so big was incomprehensible to him. So much so, that it was enough to completely bring Hosah out of his train of thought.

Both of them waited for him to elaborate. The shifter didn't really know what to say himself, usually his mouth would just do the work for him, but, for once in his life, his lips were sealed.

It was easier for him to shrug it off, so that's what he did. "I don't know, it's nothing, really." Hosah knew what look the giant would be wearing, so he saw no reason to look up at all.

He knew exactly what he was on his mind, it was just easier to keep it there rather than letting his thoughts become words. When you do that, you give them weight, you make them real... Something like that. It was something his caretaker had said to him, over ten years ago by now. What was he called again? Mr Greene, although by now, if he stuck to his word, it should be Doctor Greene. That was it. They'd all called everyone who worked in that horrible place doctor anyway, licensed or not. Oh, dear god, he didn't want to think about it. He'd rather think about anything else in the entire world.

"... If you say so." Teddy's head was tilted, giving the shifter that look of 'I won't verbally push you further but just know I'm doing exactly that with my mind'.

Hosah really did think about telling him. About telling anyone. Maybe the phrase he'd heard was a lie all along, and maybe putting his thoughts and his memories into words would take their weight away. Maybe that way, Jules and her knowledge wouldn't have such leverage over him. There was a different phrase in mind, but it was one he felt stupid repeating even in the comfort of his internal monologue. Secrets, secrets are no fun. Secrets, secrets hurt someone... For the sake of his dignity, Doctor Greene's quote was the better one.

Even if he'd opened his mouth to speak, Hosah wouldn't have known what to say anyway. His experiences weren't things he'd ever made an effort to put into an order in his memory, allowing them to come back in disorganised snippets when they applied, to haunt him in the depths of sleep. It was better this way, they were infrequent, unpredictable. That sort of thing would've stressed Teddy out beyond belief, but, the shifter found comfort in the fact he didn't quite know what brought them back to the forefront of his mind. That way, he wouldn't have another plethora of things he'd try to avoid, to worry about and be afraid of. The lord knew he already had plenty he was afraid of.

And speak of the devil, a head, along with its body, came turning around the corner. The shifter wondered just what exactly had Jules of all people looking so deeply disturbed, and he could only hazard a guess. He'd seen that look before, of humiliation, of something adjacent to fear but not exactly that, something he didn't know a word for. Hosah could only guess that she'd shifted.

For once in her life, Jules didn't have a look that struck terror into her employee's hearts plastered on her face. She was pale enough in the first place, but now, she looked downright ghostly. Speechless and a little disoriented, their boss just stared the two down, like a deer in headlights. If he didn't care for Jules so deeply, Hosah would've been extensively entertained. Oh, how the tables had been turned.

"Uh.." Jules started, her fingertips running along the hem of her skirt as she fidgeted to keep it in its specific place, "Hosah. I need.. I need a word."

The hand that rested beside the shrunken shifter twitched. There was no way in hell Hosah would ever let himself be carried by his boss, never in a million years, so Teddy would have to do. As he mindlessly climbed into the still hand, Jules' words hit him like a huge tidal wave, washing over him with a horrible sickly feeling. How there was no way in hell he would've been genuinely loved if Teddy knew what had happened to him. Even when she was in such a state, a glint of judgement still hurled his way, and blasted right through him like a bullet to the head. Oh how he wished it to be literal. Unfortunately, metaphorical bullets wouldn't take him out, so he'd just have to swallow down the uneasy feeling that washed over him as Jules stared.

Hosah waited for the snarky comment when he slid down from the fingers and onto the surface of her equally large desk, near identical to the one he'd just spent hours sat on, but said snarky comment never came. Not even once Teddy had left, with their boss promptly shooing him away in the same swatting fashion the shifter had used on his finger just before.

To say Jules looked rattled was an understatement. As soon as the door clicked shut, her head was in her hands, letting out a long, pained groan.

"You won't believe what just happened." She rested her head against the desk as she spoke, hiding her face with the embarrassment.

Hosah tried to wipe the look of amusement from his own, shrugging, "It happened, finally?"

They both knew exactly what was meant by 'it'. Jules tried her very best to keep the fact she was a shifter under wraps, but it was bound to come out sooner rather than later. She'd managed for a good few years, and that in itself Hosah found impressive. Then again, she had the money to keep herself completely and utterly medicated at every moment of the day. Insurance would cover a lot, but no more than absolutely necessary, and somatotrophin was one hell of a drug to even get a hold of in the first place. Shifters in big cities like this were lucky, high populations create high demand, and Hosah didn't want to imagine what his life would be like if he really did go back to his nowhere town in Colorado.

"What do you mean 'finally'?" Jules huffed. "..And, yeah, it happened. Jeanne found me. I can't fire him, so, I'm lost on what to do."

"Jeanne wouldn't tell anyone." Getting closer was a dangerous game, but Hosah didn't really care to think about that. He'd walked this tightrope countless times before, and he’d do it again.

He placed a hand atop of Jules’, although his only could just wrap around her white knuckles.

"I guess not.. Anyway. That's not what I actually wanted to talk to you about. Bad timing." She sat up in her seat, gripping the edge of the desk like her life depended on it.

An apology, surely. It was rare these things ever happened, but on the blue moon where Jules has a little clarity and gains the ability to feel empathy just temporarily, Hosah could expect some form of regret for how she'd treated him. He'd thought about their last fight way more than he'd like to admit. There was no need to open the wound that was Chris, and there was even less of a need to rub salt into it straight after with roping Teddy in. Maybe, just maybe, she'd come to realise that.

"I've been thinking a lot about... Before. That night. I just, I need to tell you.." Here it comes, oh how Hosah had looked forward to this.

Jules admitting to you that she messed up was essentially the same as winning the lottery’s jackpot. Not only would it mean she really, really must’ve messed up, but it would’ve given you the leverage to use just how bad it was over her again and again for a long while, just until she did something probably equally as bad, but with a whole lot less remorse. Hosah thought about what he’d do with a smile on his face. Taking a week off and going up to his hometown, maybe showing Teddy all the spots he used to visit, was the first thing that came to mind.

"... I thought about it, and, it's for the best that I take you off the case."

Oh. Huh. That wasn't quite what he was expecting at all. Of course, his first instinct was to argue and fight against it, he had a duty to bring justice to those people, to himself, but, at the same time, he couldn't help but feel.. Relief. A weight lifted off of his chest. Hosah let out a heavy breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. For some reason, he didn't want to shout, or cry, or even feel bad for himself, he just felt relieved. Maybe this would be it. Maybe now he could pack up and find his cabin by the lake. He didn't quit or give up, he was simply forced to move on, and that he would do.

The pair sat in silence for a while. Jules had fully expected another argument to start, but the shifter before her was uncharacteristically calm about it all. Hosah shook his head, going to knead at his temple for a moment, before he really thought about what to say.

"How many vacation days do I have exactly?"

-~-

"So, that's it then? She just.. Took you off?" Acting oblivious wasn't something Teddy felt entirely comfortable doing, but it was something he'd do either way, because he didn't have any other choice.

"Yeah, I guess so." Hosah had been far quieter than usual. It was expected, but, as the hours passed with him barely saying a few sentences in them, it was getting concerning.

They'd been home for a bit now, and the shifter had only just really mentioned what exactly Jules had spoken to him about. It wasn't like Teddy didn't already know, he just expected.. more. This was great, though, surely. Hosah wasn't mad about it, so, even if he did find out, their relationship wouldn't be completely unsalvageable after all.

"Well, that's... That's good, no?" The giant leant over the kitchen counter, his elbows at either side of the shifter, just as the way he liked it.

"I guess so." Hosah repeated. He hadn't bothered to look up at all. Huh.

Teddy brought a finger to the top of the shifter's head, and gently stroked the messy hair atop of it. He was trying pretty much everything he knew Hosah enjoyed, and none of his tactics seemed to even slightly snap him out of his slump.

He sighed, manoeuvring himself to lean against the counter on his hands, trying not to pay attention to the shadow he overcast as he did so, "Come on. Let's go do something. It'll cheer you up."

"I told you I'm alright, I just need to.. process it." Hosah could protest all he liked, but it wouldn't stop the hand from wrapping around him any time soon.

Usually, Teddy wouldn't be so straightforward, he had manners, after all, but something told him the shifter wouldn't so openly climb into his palm as he'd done so a million times before.

"Even if you're alright, I still wanna get out of here with you." Teddy dismissed the 'but'-s as he went around their apartment grabbing his things. He briefly wondered if Felix would curse him out for calling during the back end of rush hour, but decided a little berating would be worth it, for Hosah.

It seemed the second Hosah had actually told the giant what he was so desperately needed for to speak about, his demeanour changed entirely. What was he being so weird for? Just yesterday, Hosah would've had to jump up and down with waving hands to get his attention, but now, their roles had reversed entirely. Saying it wasn't comforting for Teddy to tell him he wanted to spend time going out together would've been a lie, but that same sickly, insecure feeling had overtaken the shifter's body entirely.

"There's no point when I'm stuck like this." Hosah spoke, quietly, mostly to himself.

"What? That's never stopped us before. Is.. is that the reason boss took you off the case or something?" The giant stopped dead in his tracks, lifting the hand that Hosah sat in up close near his face, which was plastered with an expression of worry. "You know it's not a problem. What's gotten into you, huh?"

Teddy's smiling didn't have that same wooing effect as it usually did, not in this situation.

"She didn't really get into why exactly." Hosah focused on the least relevant part of the previous statement, as he usually did when he wanted a subject to be dropped.

"I see." The look on his face definitely didn't give the impression of 'seeing'. "I'm in the mood to go get dessert. Do you wanna go get dessert? Churros sound really good right now."

The thought of eating right now was not at all pleasant. The right to decline food, however, was stripped from Hosah the moment his doctor started accusing him of being 'disordered', whatever that meant. Nowadays, not being in the mood just was a cause of concern for everyone around him, and it was definitely up on his list of things that annoyed him.

His truthful and honest answer was more like 'not particularly', but his distaste for being lectured was far bigger than the literal pit that formed in his stomach, so instead, he said-

"Sure. We can just share."

Teddy's smile only brought out a long, tired sigh from the shifter. Arguing over the same issue again and again would've been a whole lot worse than just having to sit and endure it, though, so going along with the day would just be what Hosah would have to do. He didn't get it. Sure, his eating habits were bad, and sure, it definitely looks like there's something wrong with it when you look on the surface, but really, he had complete control over himself and his habits. The fact no one believed him about it only made him want to get worse. By choice, of course, as this was something Hosah did all on his own fruition.

He didn't protest as Teddy set him down on his shoulder, pulling on his winter coat all the while, and wrapping the pair essentially together under his scarf. This part was always nice. The shifter thought that, maybe if he were quiet enough, Teddy would forget he was there entirely, and he'd get away with ending the night on his empty stomach, but he was far too clingy to ever realistically do that. Hell, he could barely go five minutes without reaching up and making sure he was still there, or repeatedly asking if everything was alright. At first, his constant worrying was completely grating, but as Hosah's fondness towards the giant grew, so did his appreciation for his paranoia. It was cute, really... Although Hosah didn't feel like he was in the appropriate position to be calling anyone cute when he was like this.

It was refreshing to see the familiar face when they got into the taxi. Admittedly, the two of them had been abusing the subway system far more than the taxi services around the city lately, and with that came a good few abrasive texts to Teddy's phone from their favourite driver in the country.

"Hey, hey! You thought you could abandon me, no? Mm-mm.. This is the thing, you regulars, you always come crawling back when you try get away. Not this time, not any time." A lot of what Felix said came off as quite threatening, but given the huge smile on his face, you could never be too sure.

"I know, I know, we're.. Dreadfully sorry." Teddy shook his head, raising his hands palm up to surrender.

Felix hummed in disappointment. "Where's Pupa, huh? What's his name, I forget his name.. Your little friend, you have him?"

One thing Hosah didn't miss about the taxi services were the fact he'd been given a, frankly quite offensive, nickname that he couldn't quite shake off. To the shifter, it only served to worsen his already terrible mood, but it always brought Teddy great entertainment.

"No, no he's here... Bad day, s'all." Teddy muttered the last part under his breath.

The shifter wasn't exactly hiding, he just didn't want to make himself entirely known just yet. That was all.

"Oh, oh that I understand. My wife does these things, all the time. She shrinks herself and hides off somewhere, leaves me to make the dinner, to do everything. I do it, but you know, I don't like it. I work all day long, and it's late enough when I come home, too late to be doing these things all alone." Felix ranted for a bit, his hands moving back and forth between being up in the air and tapping against the wheel.

At this rate, Hosah began to seriously doubt the global percentage of shifters was only a singular digit.

Rather than going on for any longer, the driver turned his head back around towards the front windshield, "Anyway, enough from me, where to?"

Teddy seemed to purposefully give him a street name particularly far from where he really wanted to take the shifter, as they'd been walking out from the taxi for a good ten minutes by now. If it weren't so cold, Hosah would've quite enjoyed the fresh air.

"Sorry, I didn't think the walk was this far." Teddy didn't sound sorry, but his voice took the shifter out of his daydream, almost like he'd read his mind with his sudden change in topic.

Hosah shrugged, curling up a little tighter in the layers of soft, felt fabric. "Doesn't matter."

"Hm," The giant hummed, "I suppose it doesn't. Guess this gives us more chance to talk, anyway."

That was exactly the problem. Hosah didn't want to talk, because he knew exactly what the first question would be. It'd be something completely stupid, like-

"How's your day going?"

God. The giant was getting really good at guessing what was on his mind, even when he didn't have an overly expressive face to look at and go off of.

"You've been with me all day, so, you could take a guess." Hosah was aware of how irritating and cold he was being, but honestly, he couldn't really care less.

Teddy let out a sigh of amusement, "Right you are. You know, if it's bothering you, you could just talk about it. I'm all ears."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I just figured it'd all upset you more than it has, to be honest." Teddy continued to inquire further, no matter how harsh or vague the shifter seemed to be.

"Why would I be upset, it's just less work for me, that's.. You said that's a good thing. So. I'm not upset. That'd be stupid. I'm glad." I mean, it was partially true. In some ways, Hosah really was glad, but saying it hadn't upset him, even in the slightest, was a total lie.

The giant nodded, sagely, "Yeah. You're right. Well, at least now we're celebrating, huh? Honesty, I've been thinking about dessert all day, I would've taken you to the café, you know, the one I took you to forever and ever ago, but-"

Thank god. Hosah honestly thought he'd never stop going on until his phone started ringing. Only, a part of him missed the carefree tone in Teddy's voice when it significantly dropped.

".. My mum is calling."

The shifter always found it weird how he used 'mum' and not 'mom', but his change in voice sounded serious enough that he held back from mocking him for it, just this once.

In all the months they'd known eachother, Teddy rarely spoke about his parents. He knew his dad was a chef, and his mom was the Italian one, but that was about the end of it. Hosah had no idea if he even liked either of them very much. Although, given how defeated he both looked and sounded when he began speaking the unfamiliar language on the phone, he could guess that he didn't in fact like them, even at all.

It was in times like this where Hosah wished either of his parents taught him their mother tongue. Now was probably a bad time to think it, but, damn did whatever Teddy was talking about sound hundreds of times hotter when he couldn't understand a word of it. For once, his slight accent was being put to work, and the sound was like honey to the ears. All the shifter could do was pray whatever was being spoken about wasn't completely tragic, otherwise he'd definitely be eating his words.

His curiosity only grew the longer the call went on for, until it ended. Hosah didn't want to outwardly ask in fear of coming off as nosey, but what he did want was to know exactly what they were talking about, and every detail of it.

Teddy had stopped dead in his tracks. He mumbled a little bit, but ultimately, the only thing he'd said was a mix of 'um's and 'mm's. The shifter could only watch as he bit his lip, putting his phone back in his pocket with one hand, and cradling his head with the other.

"I.. She- I think.. I need to sit down. Let's go sit down, I need, I need a minute- a couple minutes."

Hosah could only drop his sulking act immediately as the words came spilling out of the giant's mouth. It wasn't often he seems lost for words, and given how he was right now, lost would've been a complete understatement. There was a really, really good chance that the shifter would in fact be eating his words.

[spacespore]

HI TUMBLRR it’s me

[chenouttachen]

fucking devastated that non is dead, but after seven episodes straight of watching him suffer trauma after trauma after trauma, i’m just relieved i didn’t have to watch him die too

[kieumy]

.

[gojorgeous]

"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.” 

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong. 

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.” 

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.” 

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.” 

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–” 

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.” 

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–” 

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry. 

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm? 

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer. 

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach. 

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope. 

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road. 

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.” 

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.” 

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.” 

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.” 

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare. 

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to. 

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto. 

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck. 

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed. 

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home. 

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 

“Yes you can. I know you can.” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.” 

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.” 

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.” 

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.” 

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–” 

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.” 

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours. 

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

~

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly. 

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs. 

“Feel anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter. 

“Sleep, baby.” 

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot. 

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs. 

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.” 

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint. 

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-” 

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.” 

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.” 

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place. 

“No, baby.” 

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully. 

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin. 

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.” 

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” 

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight. 

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants. 

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead. 

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit. 

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives. 

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. 

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him. 

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need. 

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled. 

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away. 

“Gonna knot you good, princess.” 

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes. 

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk. 

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.” 

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss. 

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything. 

“Sugu–” 

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling. 

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens. 

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness. 

~

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that. 

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…” 

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much. 

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine. 

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.” 

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams. 

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.” 

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it. 

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…” 

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl. 

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised. 

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

please consider leaving a comment, sending in an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

[lesbianjackkline]

spn finale taking a leaf out of six feet under’s book (a show that ended the year spn began and who’s finale makes me cry like a baby), but making it shit

[fastandcarlos]

On The Mend : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: with your lack of presence in the paddock, fans are starting to worry, little do they know that you happen to be a little broken back at home

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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 849,183 others

oscarpiastri: another successful week of racing, super proud of the whole team to get the car all the way to P2 this weekend 🏆🏎️

35,058 comments

username1: congratulations oscar, such an awesome drive!!

username2: just a shame that yn wasn’t there to see it once again 🙄

landonorris: so proud of you osc 😭😭😭

username3: surely they can’t still be together, she hasn’t shown her face in weeks…

charles_leclerc: mum is very proud that the two of us were on the podium btw

oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc it was all thanks to her pep talk ofc

username4: we’ll still support you osc even if yn won’t

mclaren: the whole team is so proud of you, congratulations oscar!

username5: enjoy the celebrations, I’m sure the team will be there for you at least 🥲

danielricciardo: congrats brother, always nice to see you repping for down under

username6: either something must be seriously wrong or yn really just doesn’t care anymore 😭

maxverstappen1: hell of a drive from you, great to see you back where you belong!

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ynusername posted two private stories

replies

georgerussell63: thanks for reminding everyone I got a penalty yn 😂😂

oscarpiastri: make sure you’re resting, you don’t need to worry about the race sweetheart!!

ynusername: I’ve never missed a race of yours 😩

danielricciardo: why tf are you in hospital and why didn’t you tell me immediately so that I could help!!

nicolepiastri: sending you lots of love sweetheart, sorry we can’t be there to help you 💕

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oscarpiastri: I promise to sneak you in loads of snacks as soon as I’m there 💞

lilymhe: I miss you so much, hope you’re recovering well girlie

landonorris: he’s on the first flight outta here straight back to you 🧡

carmenmmundt: sending you all the healing vibes in the world ❤️

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liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and 812,948 others

oscarpiastri: wish me luck on the flight, some weird passenger keeps looking over their shoulder at me 👀

36,950 comments

username7: that poor pilot having to drive these two home lmao

danielricciardo: now you get to experience my struggle before you came along 😭

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo idk how you ever did it 🤦🏻

username8: at least oscar has lando to celebrate with even though others have abandoned him

alex_albon: why else do you think we offered to take you home on our plane instead?! 😂

username9: i wonder if he's going home to yn being there or not

charles_leclerc: you're incredibly brave volunteering to travel home with him 👏🏻

username10: yn should be there with him, i really hope that they're okay

username11: what would we do without these two in our lives!?

maxverstappen1: we tried to talk you out of it but you didn't listen 🤷🏻

username 12: i love how all the boys are exposing lando as a terrible travel partner hahah

landonorris: stop trying to make it sound like we're not bffs osc 💔

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris that's because we're definitely not best friends

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liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 793,722 others

oscarpiastri: seeing as some people want to make it their business, we thought we’d share why yn hasn’t been around recently. a couple of weeks ago she had a nasty fall at home which resulted in a broken leg. yesterday I finally got to bring her home and begin helping her with recovery…just call me doctor piastri from now on 🧑🏻‍⚕️💞

57,492 comments

username13: i hope all you losers who thought they broke up are proud of yourselves 🙄

landonorris: you guys know where i am if you need anything!!

georgerussel63: we love you yn, make sure you get plenty of rest ❤️❤️❤️

username14: sending you so much love yn, get plenty of rest

ynusername: apologies in advance for the lack of sleep you're about to get because of me 😂

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername as long as you're healing idc 🥹

username15: can't believe some of you were so stupid to ever think they'd actually break up

alex_albon: glad to see you're back at home where you belong yn

danielricciardo: do i even want to ask how she managed to break her leg??

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo if I told you I don't think you'd believe me 😂

username16: poor oscar looks exhausted having to drive and take care of yn too

charles_leclerc: pls tell me I get to sign the cast ✍️

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'll save a spot just for you

username17: please make sure you take care of yourself yn and ignore what everyone has to say

carmenmmundt: sending you so many healing vibes yn, we miss you at the paddock

username18: during a time when they need privacy and instead they've been hounded by nosey idiots 🤦🏻

maxverstappen1: can't wait to see all the doctor piastri content from you! 😂

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liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 682,058 others

oscarpiastri: the only way to get her out of the house atm is to bribe her with coffee ☕️

63,957 comments

username19: it's adorable how much oscar cares about her 🥰

lilymhe: tell her im omw with coffee as we speak to get her out again!

username20: it's so good to see yn back up on her feet and moving around again 🤩

alex_albon: i actually forgot what yn looked like stood upright for a moment

username21: why does it feel like oscar is one of those partners who is constantly checking on her making sure she's doing her exercises and following every single bit of advice

maxverstappen1: yn's injury is really making you look like the doting boyfriend rn ❤️

danielricciardo: if yn ever gets bored of being entertained on a walk by you, you know where i am!

username22: i bet yn can't wait for race weekend again to get rid of the nagging doctor 😂

landonorris: wish you looked after me as well as you look after yn

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris just a shame that we're not dating then really huh?!

username23: anyone else noticed how many drivers have been round this week to take yn out and make sure she's staying active too

username24: @/username23 i think she might just be the most popular wag on the grid

ynusername: i hate you but i love you at the same time these days 💞

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername if the doctor says you keep moving, it's my job to make you move 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 59,491 others

ynusername: I always knew oscar was secretly boyfriend coded but damn having him look after me is making me fancy him all over again 🔥

12,056 comments

username25: i think i might've just fallen in love with him all over again too 😍

alexandrasaintmleux: make the most of all of the attention you're getting girl

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux oh I am, he doesn't let me lift a finger 😘

username26: soft, doctor boyfriend oscar might just be my new favourite thing

charles_leclerc: if i see many more of these posts from you i might just need a sick bucket 🤮

username27: yn you really are the luckiest having this guy in your life

carlossainz55: i always knew he was a softie deep down 🥺

oscarpiastri: you know i'd do anything as long as it meant getting you better again

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you're an angel in disguise i swear

username28: i'd break my leg too if it meant oscar piastri was there to look after me 😂

username29: it melts my heart to see how caring oscar has been over the past few weeks

danielricciardo: even i found myself getting a bit excited when i saw these photos yn

username30: everyone needs an oscar piastri in their life

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted two stories

replies

landonorris: you're ruining oscar's image with every post you share these days 😂

oscarpiastri: there's nowhere else that I'd rather be

ynusername: we'll pretend you didn't complain that it wasn't race weekend first thing this morning shall we???

carmenmmundt: hope it's good news, lemme know how you get on!!

alex_albon: praying for you and hoping that it's the beginning of the end now 💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

danielricciardo: thinking of you guys, tell the doctor if he doesn't give you good news i'll break his leg 💞

ynusername: something tells me you might find a few challenges in doing that hahah

georgerussell63: you're so strong yn, just remember we love you

charles_leclerc: the whole family is hoping for good news for you and oscar ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 70,238 others

ynusername: the moment i've waited for for so long, back in my second home of the garage and back supporting my love during race weekend

14,592 comments

username31: make sure you keep taking care of yourself yn!! 💕

oscarpiastri: cannot begin to tell you how happy i am to have you back with me again ☺️

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri the best feeling in the world being able to cheer you on again

danielricciardo: ik just how much this means to you, welcome back to us yn

username32: it's so good to see you right back where you belong again

username33: it feels like you've never been away, I'm so happy for you guys 🥹

charles_leclerc: on the mend at last, i hope you know just how many people can't wait to welcome you back this weekend

username34: we love our favourite #81 fan 🧡

iamrebeccad: i am hurrying over to that mclaren garage as fast as i possibly can rn ‼️

username35: so happy to see you back on your feet and back with our favourite duo again

username36: this is the content we've been waiting for, it's so good to see you back

landonorris: as much as i hate having to share oscar again, it's a joy to have you back 🙃

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[jaysng]

post arguement — yang jungown

PAIRING. husband!jungwon, preg!wife!reader

GENRE. angst, fluff

WORD CNT. 695

NOTE. sorry i haven’t been posting and haven’t replied to anyone in a while, life has been tough and i hope you understand. also been messing with the themes lately. don’t know what looks good. trying.

you woke up in bed, warmth enveloping you in a way that felt both familiar and surprising. your eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the soft blur of the room. the last thing you remembered was curling up on the couch, raw from the argument with jungwon.

the silence of that moment had been heavy, charged with words that couldn’t be unsaid. you had fallen asleep with tear-streaked cheeks and the ache of his voice replaying in your head, cutting deeper each time.

but now, here you were, back in your shared bed. your fingers brushed the comforter, trying to piece together how you’d gotten there. a slight shift behind you made your heart stutter; jungwon was close, his arm resting lightly around your waist, cautious.

his breath was warm against your back, slow but uneven, as if he’d been awake for a while.

the faint nausea that lingered in the mornings pulled at you, a reminder that this moment wasn’t just yours. the baby growing inside you made everything sharper, more fragile.

last night’s argument had felt even more painful because of it, and the guilt weighed heavily on you now.

jungwon’s arm tightened slightly, and you felt him press his forehead gently against your shoulder. the quiet stretched on, the tension humming between you like a current. he took a shaky breath, breaking the silence.

“i’m sorry,” he said, voice rough, almost breaking. it caught you off-guard; jungwon was rarely this raw, this unguarded. “i shouldn’t have let you sleep out there. i shouldn’t have said anything that made you feel like you had to.”

the sincerity, the guilt in his tone, cracked something open inside you. you didn’t turn to face him, not yet. it felt safer to speak without looking into his eyes. “i shouldn’t have said what i did either,” you whispered, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “but it hurt, jungwon.”

his hand moved from your waist to rest on your arm, tentative, as if afraid you’d pull away. “i know,” he admitted, his voice so quiet it almost disappeared. “i was so caught up in being right, in feeling frustrated… i didn’t think about you. about us.”

you felt his breath hitch, and it only deepened the ache in your chest. “and when i saw you on the couch, curled up like that… it felt like everything shattered.”

you finally turned, shifting to face him. jungwon’s eyes were red-rimmed, guilt swimming in their depths. you could see how much he’d carried through the night, how it weighed on him now. “did you stay up?” you asked, noticing the exhaustion etched across his features.

he nodded, a rueful smile touching his lips for a fleeting moment. “i couldn’t sleep. i kept thinking about how wrong it was, having you out there. and with the baby… i couldn’t let it stay that way.”

your eyes filled with tears, and you blinked them back, not wanting to let the moment spiral into more sadness. “thank you for bringing me back,” you said softly, fingers brushing against his. “i didn’t realize…”

“you shouldn’t have had to,” he said, voice steadying but still thick with emotion. “you’re my everything. both of you are.” he hesitated, eyes searching yours as if he needed to find a sign of forgiveness. “i know saying sorry isn’t enough. but i need you to know that i’m here. i’m here, and i’ll be better.”

the sincerity in his voice, the guilt that laced every word, made your heart clench. you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “i know,” you whispered, feeling the first hint of relief loosen the knot in your chest. “we’ll figure it out. together.”

jungwon’s eyes softened, and he exhaled, as if releasing a breath he’d been holding all night. he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the touch warm and reassuring. “together,” he echoed, the word carrying a promise that filled the space between you with something tender, something healing.

it wasn’t perfect, and maybe it wouldn’t be for a while. but as he pulled you closer, careful and loving, you felt that for now, it was enough.

do not copy or repost — @/jaysng

[uhohdad]

(18+) WARNING: NON-CONSENSUAL THEMES

˚☽˚.⋆ Loser!König x Reader - Sharing a bed ˚☾˚.⋆

loser!könig purposely booked a room with only one bed, but he’ll spin a story about how the hotel messed up, even going so far as to feign frustration and air threats of complaint until you soothe him. Don’t worry, not that big of a deal, we’ll just share a bed. It’ll be fun, a sleepover.

loser!könig can’t stop staring at you as you both unwind in your hotel room, lying on your front and half-heartedly watching a cooking show, the white noise of the air-conditioner roaring in the background. Your teasing legs are bent at the knees and crossed at the ankles, swaying absentmindedly in the air. He’s drooling over your ass, practically hanging out of your thin lounge shorts.

loser!könig can hardly contain his excitement when you both finally retire for the night, crawling under the comforters. He’s annoyed you spend so much time playing with your phone before bed, because he’s just itching to have you asleep and all to himself.

loser!könig forces himself to wait until you’re in a deep sleep, a slight snore and the occasional twitch of a dream. He’ll gently peel back the brilliant white covers, his cock already straining against his sweatpants in pure excitement. His eyes devour every new inch of skin revealed to him, lingering on the rise and fall of your chest, braless in a loose tank top. He can see your nipples through the thin fabric, it’s not hard for him to imagine what your breasts look like underneath.

loser!könig bites his lip as he pinches the front of your tank top, carefully bunching it up to expose your torso. He freezes when you shiver, one of your arms moving to rest over your stomach, starting up again when you still.

loser!könig’s aching cock is leaking at the sight of your soft, perfect breasts on display for him, the cool air bringing your nipples to attention. He has to stifle both a whine and his urge to touch you, palming the front of his pants for relief and not so much as blinking while he ravages you with hungry eyes.

loser!könig can’t restrain himself, freeing himself from his sweatpants and pumping his cock to the sight of your tits, a show that’s just for him. His teeth are digging into his bottom lip hard enough he nearly draws blood, holding back his grunts and moans with a strain.

loser!könig lasts less than a minute, forcing his choked moans to leave him as only breath. Every muscle is tight and tensed as he splatters your chest with his finish, working out every last drop, trembling and heaving overtop of you.

loser!könig snaps a picture of your cum-soaked tits before he carefully pulls your shirt flush to the arm slung over your waist, tucking you under the comforter once again.

loser!könig gets no sleep that night, staring mesmerized at the photo of his finish claiming ownership of your chest until morning.

˚☽˚.⋆ loser!könig ˚☾˚.⋆

[boneblushed]

And, boy, you got her

synopsis Rafe’s in charge of the pledges during Rush Week. Hazing isn’t a thing. Making you feel so high school is.

wc 3.6K

a/n omgggg Euro Trip Rafe <3333 I was living on pledgetok last week and just couldn’t not write something about it

“Holy shit,” Noah mutters, surveying the crowd over his red cup, “I swear they get scrawnier every single year.”

Rafe nods gravely, taking a pull of his beer. “It’s fucking grim.”

“Like — fuck, look at those two.” Noah gestures toward the shaded veranda, a fresh coat of gloss making its balustrades shine. Huddled in one corner, attempting to take up as little space as possible, two boys donning UNC merch survey the crowd in tandem. “We weren’t that fucking scraggy as freshman, were we?”

“You two weren’t,” Kelce snorts, coming up behind them. Topper brings up his rear, mid-bite of his loaded hotdog. “Thornton definitely was though.”

“Oi!” Topper protests, his words garbled by half chewed sausage. “S’wasn’t that bad. C’mon.” He turns to Rafe then, swallowing his mouthful. “But seriously, you locked in any potentials?”

Rafe furrows his brow thoughtfully, looking back over Delta Chi’s yard. Unsurprisingly, it’s far too early to say. Though the barbecue that they’re hosting is a good way for pledges to mingle, it isn’t exactly hazing material; they’re going to have to get creative.

“Maybe,” he replies finally, shrugging. “We’ll just have to see I guess.”

He tips back his red cup again, swallowing the last dregs of beer before acquiescing. As he’s about to announce his need for a refill, a few pledges sidle up to their group, looking hopeful.

Not overtly, of course. Painstakingly hiding their eagerness behind an armour of insouciance.

“Rafe,” the tallest of the three greets, handing him another red cup. The golden liquid inside it brims to the surface, its white foam dissolving in mocking. “Hey, bro. You need another?”

Rafe raises his eyebrows, hiding a grin. “Shit. Table service already?”

The boy grins in tandem, looking a little sheepish. “Big fan, man. I’m Dylan.” He motions at the two guys on either side of him, wearing matching squints and backwards caps. “This is Rahul and Xav, we’re all here from Trinity.”

“Durham and Chapel Hill?” Noah enquires, whistling approvingly when they nod. “Fuck, we used to love having away games there. Those Trin cheerleaders…”

“Haha, shit, what was that chic’s name again?” Rafe asks then, a pull of mirth as he turns to Noah. “The one you messed around with in junior year?”

“Blake,” Noah answers, groaning in a mock-wistful sort of way. “They didn’t make ‘em like her at the Academy.”

Rafe snorts, sending the pledges a sage glance. “Nah. They made ‘em better.”

Noah raises his eyebrows, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, so we are allowed to objectify your girl then, Cameron?”

“Damn, so you’re tied down?” Xavier pipes up, his voice gravelly and low on purpose. Overtly masculine, like he’s trying hard to be red-blooded. “Your girl doesn’t mind you partying?”

Rafe frowns. “Why would she mind?”

“Uh,” Xavier balks, pulling at the bill of his backwards cap, “shit. I don’t know… like, doesn’t she get pissed that you’re constantly around sorority girls?”

“HA —” Topper laughs, and then he falters, thwarted by Rafe’s warning glower. “Uh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just say Cameron doesn’t give her any reasons to be suspicious.”

“Because he’s obsessed with her,” Noah adds, unperturbed by Rafe’s expression. He pauses then, an amusing idea popping into his head. “Which means…” he continues, returning Rafe’s glare with a trust me one of his own, “you guys should be too.”

Rafe doesn’t trust him. Like, at all. He sends him a bewildered look, unsure where he’s going with this. “White — what?”

Noah ignores him. He downs his beer and crushes the red cup in his hand, deftly aiming it at the nearest bag of trash. “So,” he says, eyeing the three pledges with interest. “How serious are you guys about rushing Delt?”

“Pretty serious, bro,” Rahul answers, looking to his friends for support. “Think we got a shot?”

Noah throws his arm around Rafe’s neck, his strong bicep taut as he shoots them a grin. “Depends, man, I might know how we could figure that out though.” He begins to steer Rafe away from them, sending one last, faux-somber look over his shoulder. “Be right back, yeah?”

Rafe, whose bewilderment is quickly giving way curiosity, allows himself to be marshalled out of earshot without complaints.

He shrugs Noah off of him once they’re on the verandah, his features ever-bemused as he turns toward him. “The fuck was that about?”

“Bro, I know exactly how we’re going to haze these motherfuckers,” Noah replies, his voice lilted with mirth. “You know… without breaking any rules.”

The bewildered expression on Rafe’s face doesn’t acquiesce. “Okay… how?”

“Instead of getting them to be our bitches,” he answers, a mischievous grin making home on his features. “We’re going to get them to be our girlfriends’ bitches.”

Rafe frowns. “Bro. What?”

“Cameron, it’s perfect.” He swipes Rafe’s beer from his hand and takes a generous pull. “What do frat guys hate more than being called scrawny as fuck?”

“Uh. Doing assignments?” Rafe answers blankly, still frowning. He doesn’t have it in him to think too hard about Noah’s profferance. He’s on hour two of manning this boring event, hour four since he bid you farewell, and all Rafe can bear to think about right now is the imminent taste of your peach-scented lips.

Noah shakes his head. “No, dumbass. Being called a simp.”

“Wrong,” Rafe answers, “I don’t mind that shit at all.”

“You’re the exception,” Noah replies matter-of-factly. “You and Y/N have always been the exception. C’mon, I’m talking about us,” he places his palm over his breastbone solemnly, “mere mortals.”

Rafe narrows his eyes. “Fuck off. How would that even work?”

“We…” Noah pauses to think, a slightly furrow to his brow, “alright, I got it. We assign the pledges to our girlfriends, one by one. Give them a week to make a good impression — you know, carry their bags, buy them flowers, all that sentimental crap you love.”

“You really think the guys’ll agree to this?” Rafe asks, sounding reluctant. “I mean… I don’t know if I’m alright with a bunch of idiots holding doors for my girl.”

“But you’re an idiot that holds a door for your girl,” Noah answers, not missing a beat.

“Fuck off, White.”

“I’m serious. It’ll be funny. And look… if you’re worried about Y/N, I know she’ll find it adorable as fuck.”

Rafe shakes his head. “No way. She didn’t find high-school me adorable.”

Noah raises his eyebrows skeptically. “You’d be surprised, man. Besides, these guys aren’t going to be like high-school you. High-school you was a douchebag.”

“A douchebag who got the girl.”

“A douchebag who got the girl after he stopped acting like a douchebag.” Noah smirks then. “A douchebag who’d give all these fuckers a run for their money if he was pledging Delt this year.”

Rafe grins in tandem, stealing his beer back to take a big swig. “Alright, shit, alright. Harmless shit though, right? Chivalry and all that?”

“Harmless as hell,” Noah agrees. “C’mon. You really think any of these guys has the balls to make a pass at one of our girls?”

“Easy for you to say, White. You don’t fucking have a girl.”

Noah frowns. “What d’you mean? Aren’t we going halves on Y/N?”

“Holy fuck, Noah,” Rafe groans, almost spitting out his mouthful of beer. “If Y/N heard the shit you said when she wasn’t around, she’d probably kill you.”

“Nah,” Noah replies, seemingly unperturbed. “She loves me.”

“Well,” Rafe says grimly, crushing his own empty cup in his head. “She might do now, but she sure as hell won’t by the end of this week.”

—

The first time it happens, you’re understandably perplexed.

You’re en-route to your 9AM, bag strap denting your left shoulder, when a stranger falls into your step and swipes it from your figure. It’s a motion so quick and deft you initially think you’re getting mugged.

As you double back in bewilderment, he proffers, “you alright with this?”

“Uh.” You balk. “What?”

“Your bag,” he answers, readjusting it on his own shoulder. He seems earnest. Nervous, even. “It looked heavy. I can carry it to class for you, if you want?”

You allow a pause to take him in.

“No, I’m…” another pause, more of his demeanour on display. Backwards cap, crisp white polo shirt, smile lines exposing the ghost of a grin on his face. A familiar grin, the kind that pulls a soft, maudlin feeling from your ribcage. “Look, if you’re trying to hit on me —”

“No, no,” he interrupts quickly, his eyes widening in a panic. “Shit — no, don’t tell Cameron I’m hitting on you. I’m just…”

“Wait a minute,” your eyes narrow accusatorially, because of course he’s behind this chivalrous display, “you know my boyfriend?”

The stranger grimaces sheepishly. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Explain.”

“It’s… uh… well — basically, I’m pledging Delt,” he answers haltingly, self effacement juxtaposing his frat boy exterior. “Rafe’s asked us to be all gentlemanly and shit for pledge week, I don’t know. To you guys, I mean. Like… the current frat member’s girls?”

“Oh my god,” you groan. “No he hasn’t.”

“Shit.” He looks far more nervous now that he did five minutes ago. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No,” you grumble, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “No he did not.”

Rafe’s on speed dial. He picks up on the first ring, the way he always does for you.

“Hey baby,” his gravelly timbre crackles through the phone, the low hum of frat house chatter audible in the background. “What’s up?”

“Don’t even. You know what’s up Rafael.”

A pause. When Rafe speaks again, his voice is quick and placating. “It was Noah’s idea.”

“Of course it was.”

“Dylan’s not playing up, is he?”

You raise your eyebrows at the stranger then, assessing him faux-suspiciously. “No way. He’s doing a better job than you ever did in high school.”

“Woah woah woah,” Rafe replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “That fucker’s not calling you dream girl or something, is he?”

“Worse. He’s being respectful of my boundaries.”

“Oh shit. I fucking knew this was a bad idea.”

You shake your head in exasperation, trying not to laugh. The poor stranger’s still standing there at attention, your leather bag looking ridiculous on his arm. “Rafe. Tell me he’s the only one.”

“He’s one…” Rafe starts slowly, sounding sheepish, “of three. Four, counting me.” In the background, you hear Noah pipe up and add, “five, Cameron. How could you forget me?”

“You’re un-fucking-believable, Noah White,” you shout through the phone.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Noah sings, and then he groans, no doubt shoved to the side by his indignant best friend. It’s Rafe on the phone again, voice sweet and thick as molasses as he says, “they’ll behave, baby, and make your life easier in the process. I promise.”

“What?” You accuse, fighting back a smile. “Like you did in high school?”

“Fuck no,” he replies, the grin on his face audible. “They’ll be nothing like I was, sweetheart.”

“What?” You tease. “Absolutely insufferable?”

“And absolutely in love with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “How can you be so sure?”

“They’re under strict instruction. Have a shiner waiting for them if they pull something funny.”

Another exasperated laugh bubbles out of you, and you begin walking forward again, motioning at the boy named Dylan to follow in your step. “Right. So the boundaries are on purpose, are they?”

“The respect, too. No being inappropriate and charming at the same time.”

“And why not?” You ask faux-indignantly. “What if I like being objectified?”

“Can’t have you falling in love with them, can I?”

“Hey,” you argue, frowning stubbornly. “That is not what made me fall in love with you.”

“It isn’t?”

“Well,” you balk, “not solely that.”

“You’re fucking sexy,” he recites devotedly, almost yells, and you can hear the collective groan of his frat brothers in the background. “Are you wearing those Lululemon pants right now? Point is, I’m thinking about your ass in those Lululemon pants right now.”

“Rafe, I was fucking kidding. Stop.”

“No you weren’t.” You know he’s right; you can picture that stupid smirk on his face. It makes your cheeks warm. Asshole. “You’re blushing now, aren’t you?”

“Anyway.”

“Anyway,” Rafe agrees. “No funny business, alright? Just lots of good deeds.”

Good deeds. You suppose you could get used to good deeds, the embarrassment of attention notwithstanding.

You let out a defeated sigh, halting in front of your 9AM class. “You so, so owe me.”

“I so, so love you,” Rafe replies, and it makes your pulse leap; you’ll never get used to this feeling. “See you later, yeah?”

“Uh huh. Love you.”

Dylan waits until you’ve ended the call before saying farewell, dutifully handing your leather bag back to you and giving you a mock salute. The way he does it, all sheepish and genuine with a charming smile on his face, makes your heart twinge in a junior year of high-school sort of way. You’re feeling sentimental. It’s sweet.

You’re reminded of Rafe before he was yours, stumbling over himself to win your favour. Confusing chivalry with courting, objectifying you in the name of flirting.

Insufferable, but sweet nonetheless. You digress.

—

The next time it happens, you’re ambushed at your favourite cafe.

A dutiful Delta Phi pledge has already queued up and purchased you coffee, handing it over to you with a blushing bouquet of tulips.

You raise your eyebrows at him questioningly. “Is that…?”

“Uh, an oat iced coffee with vanilla?” He asks, sounding nervous. “I asked Cameron for your order.”

“Didn’t ask me about pastries, though,” a voice behind you adds, rough and familiar with a sweetness around the edges. Rafe circles your waist with ease and pulls you into his chest, sponging a soft kiss to your temple before handing you a brown bag.

A glossy, Daily Bread sticker shines on its exterior proudly.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you look up at him expectantly. “Tell me you didn’t drive back home for a single croissant.”

“I didn’t drive back home for a single croissant,” Rafe replies. He grins then, looking that same, sheepish genuine that pulls a maudlin feeling. “I drove back home for twenty.”

“Rafe. Why?”

“Because you like Daily Bread,” he replies matter-of-factly, like it’s obvious.

You shake your head in exasperation, tip-toeing up to press a quick kiss to his lips. It becomes less quick against better judgement. He tastes like spearmint gum and cold brew, the hand he has held to your waist tightening ever so slightly. Slipping under your shirt, massaging the soft skin he finds there expertly, discreetly. Too much for 8am on a Wednesday morning, sans coffee. Your face feels on fire. You pull away in a hurry.

Meanwhile, the freshman pledge balks at the exchange, looking out of place.

Rafe frowns bemusedly at your diffidence, only clocking the reason when you nod over at him.

“I’ll walk her over Ben,” he says, dismissing him. “You’re off the hook, bro.”

“Shit.” The boy named Ben grimaces; he needs to get his hours in, and doesn’t deem this a fair ambush. He scrambles for an excuse. “Right. Can I still give her the flowers?”

“Of course you can,” you beam, accepting them gratefully. You look up at Rafe then, asking, “And if I want to walk with Benjamin?”

Rafe grins down at you, disbelieving. “Do you, baby?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” you say, wriggling out of his grasp. “He got me flowers.”

Rafe falters, his eyes widening in surprise. “Sweetheart, I got you a croissant.”

“Ben got me a coffee,” you hedge. “And flowers.”

“Y/N,” he placates.

“Rafael,” you echo, unperturbed by his exasperation. You take a sip your coffee. “I’ll see you later, okay? Ben’s ticking off a good deed this morning.”

Poor Ben looks helpless, taking the brunt of Rafe’s glare as you motion for him to hold the door for you.

“C’mon Ben, we’re going to be late.”

“But…” Ben pauses, his eyes flitting to Rafe nervously. “This is fine, right?”

Rafe sighs, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth in defeat. “Yeah, bro. You’re good.” He looks to you, then. “You’re unbelievable.”

You smile sweetly. “I’m wearing the Lulu leggings.”

“Oh I noticed,” Rafe replies, his blue eyes falling down your figure in slow, reverent paces. “It’s why I want to be the one holding the door for you.”

You roll your eyes. “Men only want one thing.”

Rafe grins. “Yeah. You.”

—

By the end of the week, you’re more used to the chivalry than you’re willing to admit.

You’ve enjoyed free iced lattes and filled your dorm with gorgeous bouquets, no door left unopened and no walk to class left unescorted. And really, every pledge you’ve come across has been pleasant and unassuming, albeit absolutely terrified of Rafe and therefore extra obliging on instinct.

They’ve even offered to do favours for you, got you into sought after Pilates classes and done last minute grocery runs on your behalf. It’s put you in this constant state of mild exasperation, like you can’t believe you’re worthy of this much love and chivalry.

It’s exactly the way you felt back in high-school with Rafe, and this revelation pulls lots of funny feelings from your stomach, from your chest. Feelings you’ve forgotten that are all yours and all his. Because it’s strange, having someone other than Rafe taking care of you. (Or Noah.) It’s strange because it makes you realise just how much he adored you back in the day.

These emotions come to a head at the pledge week closing bash, Delta Phi lit up with fluorescent lights in technicolour. Inebriation ensues, beer pong follows, and an impromptu DJ deck plays endless songs with heavy bass.

Rafe Cameron has you pulled close, as always, the taut muscle of his forearm pressing heat to your exposed waist. You’re a few drinks down and hyperaware of his proximity, ankles touching, thighs too, torsos close with your head resting on his shoulder.

“I think I like Dylan the best,” you announce suddenly.

“Yeah?” Rafe asks, kneading your skin absentmindedly.

You nod. “He’s sweet. Told me all about his girl back home.”

Rafe grins then, shaking his head bemusedly. “You’re such a sucker for love, sweetheart.”

“Hey!” You glare up at him faux-incensed, looking accusatory. “So are you!”

“Shhhh,” Rafe murmurs playfully. “Not so loud, you’ll fuck up my street cred.”

You scoff. “Since when do you care about street cred?”

“Shit, you’re right,” Rafe agrees easily, leaning down to draw your lips in for a kiss. He’s all patchouli and musk, beer on his tongue and unchaste intentions in his touch. When he pulls away, his lips are still an inch from yours, his voice rougher than it was a second ago, “I don’t care. Like, at fucking all.”

“Good,” Noah snorts from behind him. “‘Cause you never had any to begin with, bro.”

“There you are,” you say then, eyeing Noah over Rafe’s shoulder. There’s a mock accusatory expression on your face, softened by mirth and the alcohol on your lips. “Have you been hiding from me, White?”

Noah grins sheepishly, taking a pull of his beer. “Maybe.”

You narrow your eyes. “Tell me. When did you become worse than Rafael?”

“I didn’t become worse!” Noah insists. “He just became better. You know, after he got the girl.”

You make a face. “Smooth.”

“Hey,” Noah raises his arms in surrender, looking faux-somber, “someone’s gotta teach the next generation, don’t they? I’m committed to their education.” He raises his eyebrows then, a mischievous glint in his eye. “C’mon, don’t act like you didn’t love it.”

Rafe grins. “She totally fucking loved it.”

You aim a glare at the pair of them, failing miserably at hiding your amusement. “So maybe I didn’t mind it. Sue me.”

“Of course you loved it,” Noah says, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side. “You love Cameron, don’t you?”

You narrow your eyes. “Opinions vary.”

“You love me?” Noah tries.

“You fucking wish.”

“Everyone fucking wishes,” Rafe says then, throwing his arm around you too, your figure wedged between the pair of them. Frat boy sandwich, you think tiredly. If high-school you could see you now, you’re pretty sure she’d have an aneurysm. “Especially when you’re in Lululemon.”

“Rafe.”

“I’m kidding. Not really. They all love you, you know that, yeah?”

You look up at him questioningly. “The pledges?”

“Uh huh,” Rafe replies, raising his eyebrows at you. “This is what I was afraid of, you know.”

“What?” You ask, lifting yours in tandem.

“Everyone falling in love with you, like I did in high school.”

You scrunch up your nose at him, your cheeks warming in diffidence. “No one’s fallen in love with me, don’t be silly.”

“I have,” Noah pipes up unhelpfully.

“Shut up, Noah. I saw you talking to Georgia just before.”

Noah grins, pulling away and offering you a mock salute. “Guilty as charged.” He turns to survey the crowd, spotting her figure on the fairy-light lit porch. “Speaking of…”

And he’s gone before you’re able to tease him any further, leaving Rafe to guide you out of his side and into his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, his hands exerting a warm, steady pressure into the curve of your waist.

“As I was saying,” you continue, frowning up at him playfully. “No one’s fallen in love with me.”

Rafe’s unconvinced. His gaze skates down your figure again, a tortured groan falling from his throat. “Have you seen you, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, face hot and self conscious. “And even if they have,” you add, “it doesn’t matter.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows. “It doesn’t?”

“No way. Because I’m in love with you, not any of them.”

Rafe grins then, a devastatingly handsome look on his face. “I’ll never get used to hearing that.”

“I’ll never get used to saying it.”

[rafesangelita]

i feel like rafe and sweetheart!readers first kiss comes from reader but rafe deepens it. like she’s teaching him how to make frosting and he’s got some on the corner of his mouth and sweetheart!reader is like “uhm rafe… you have- nvm” and just stand on her tiptoes to kiss it off and he goes nuts sitting her on the counter to finally kiss her the way hes wanted to the whole time.

warnings: fluff, heated kissing, rafe hating his job lol

“make sure you leave the mixer in there long enough.” you were currently teaching rafe how to make your infamous buttercream frosting, and even though he was doing good, he couldn’t stop himself from dipping his finger inside the bowl every five seconds.

“it’s gonna be gone before we could finish!” you laughed, playfully swatting his hand away. “alright, alright.” he backed away, watching as you took over mixing for him. “i really appreciate you, you know..” you had spoken up, meeting his eyes.

“for what?” you stopped what you were doing, leaning against the counter to face him. “for everything. i don’t even have to ask you to do anything for me, you just do it.” you shrugged. rafe nodded, smiling softly. the action drew your attention to his lips, a smudge of frosting smeared on the corner.

you giggled, shaking your head as you pointed at his mouth. “what?” he started wiping his face, your giggles turning into full on laughter as he continued to miss the spot. “where is it?!” just as you were about to reach up, you noticed the frosting on your own fingers.

“just- um, okay..” you tippy toed, bringing your lips to barely brush over his before pulling away. rafe just about died when he saw you lick away the sweet mixture, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “did i overstep?” it was silent for a few moments before you found yourself being manhandled.

his lips were on yours in an instant, both of you melting into each other’s touch. you’d wanted this from him since the day he bought your entire basket of cookies at the country club. you moaned into the kiss as he picked you up, placing you on the counter.

nothing, not even the bowl of frosting next to you two, was sweeter than hearing those pretty sounds leave your lips. rafe wasted no time, slotting himself between your thighs as his hands dug into the skin of your waist. he had never wanted someone this bad.

you weren’t used to being kissed like this, your fingers trailing across his chest as he deepened it, his tongue finding yours. butterflies fluttered in your tummy when you heard rafe groan. “y/n..” he pulled away breathlessly, swallowing thickly at the sight of your already swollen lips.

“don’t stop.” you tugged on his shirt, a smug look forming on his face. as much as he wanted to keep going and flip up that skirt of yours, he pulled away, hard as a rock in his jeans. you noticed immediately, wanting nothing more than to please him in that very moment.

“i don’t want you to think i’m here just to have my way with you.” he cleared his throat, your shoulders falling in defeat when you heard the jingle of his truck keys. “i know that..” you trailed off, stepping closer to him. he took your lips again, this time placing his hand on the small of your back.

your eyes fluttered closed, your dainty palm resting in the curve of his neck. “please don’t leave.” you whispered, his erection pressing against your stomach. rafe pecked you one more time before his phone rang.

“hello? yeah, i-, i’m on the the way already.. yes, i know we have work early. alright. i’ll see you.”

“that was my dad. we have a job in the morning.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “when we take that step, i don’t want to be in a rush to get home or leave you before you wake up.” rafe held your face in his hands, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

you didn’t want that either. nodding at his words, you hugged him, relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. “okay.” you hated every second of watching him walk to his truck. “we’ll pick up where we left off, ‘promise sweetheart.” you smiled, giving him a small wave as he drove away.

[d-z20]

Neighbourly Care part 4 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You go over to Agatha and Rio's for help with your Spanish class and they do help but you also get taught another lesson

-OR-

Agatha fuck you in their home office (while you practice Spanish with Rio) and when you make a mistake she stops fucking you until you get it right.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, Top Mommy Agatha, Daddy Rio, more smut, orgasm denial (Rio), squirting, praise, slight degredation, strap on use, even more smut

Words: 4.6k and 80% is you getting fucked

A/N: This one's for all you burnt out gifted kids out there. Also, my Spanish really isn't very good, especially when I'm writing gn!Reader in a gendered language 💀 I'm sorry if it's jarring.

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Master List

It’s the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and you’re sitting cross-legged on your bed, a growing sense of frustration gnawing at you as you stare down at your Spanish assignment. Your sweatpants are cosy and your cropped vest keeps you cool, but none of it is helping you figure out why this language feels so impossible to grasp.

Your workbook lies open next to your laptop, half-hearted notes scrawled across the page. The conjugation charts mock you, the verbs swimming together into an indecipherable mess. You sigh, running a hand through your hair before grabbing your phone and opening up the messages.

MILFs Anonymous

~13:26

You: any chance i can come over for some help? 😩

You stare at the screen, gnawing at your bottom lip as you wait for a response. It doesn’t take long.

Agatha: Try again, darling.

You: uhhh

~13:28

You: Necesito ayuda con mi español. ¿Puedo ir a vuestra casa, por favor?

Rio: Claro que sí, cariño :)

Agatha: You used Google Translate, didn’t you?

You: Sí 😁

Agatha: We’ll be back from shopping around 4—come over then.

The messages bring a small smile to your face, despite the knot of nerves tightening in your stomach. You can already hear Rio’s warm, teasing tone in the words and Agatha’s steadier, more composed presence offering quiet reassurance.

Your mind drifts back to Thanksgiving dinner. You’d mentioned, almost as a throwaway comment, that you were struggling in your Introduction to Spanish class. It had been enough to spark Rio’s interest—her eyes lighting up as she eagerly offered to tutor you. Her enthusiasm had been impossible to resist, especially when paired with Agatha’s wholehearted support.

“You’re welcome over anytime,” Agatha had said, her voice kind but with an edge of finality that left no room for argument. “You’ll get the help you need.”

And now, here you were, agreeing to yet another visit, the prospect of being in their presence again already making your skin tingle.

The clock ticks on as you attempt to focus on your workbook, but your thoughts keep drifting back to the two of them. You wonder what kind of "lesson" Rio has in mind and whether Agatha will be there to offer her own... unique form of support.

—

When the clock finally strikes 4, you grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder, calling out as you head for the door.

“I’m going over to Agatha and Rio’s!”

Your mom’s voice floats in from the kitchen. “Okay, sweetie! Your dad and I are out with Aunt Carol for dinner, so we might not see you when you get back. Make sure you thank them for all their help!”

“Will do!” you reply, slipping out the door and walking the short distance to their house.

Your heart pounds as you approach the door, excitement and nerves intertwining. Before you can knock, the door swings open, and Rio stands there, her eyes lighting up as she sees you.

“Right on time,” she says, her voice a little higher-pitched than usual. She looks slightly flustered, a flush on her cheeks as she waves you inside. “Come in, come in.”

You step through the threshold, noting how Rio shifts on her feet like she’s barely holding still. She gestures toward the hallway, motioning you ahead of her.

“Agatha’s in the office,” she says, her words rushed. Her lips twitch into a quick smile as she guides you down the hall.

The office door is already open, and Agatha’s presence is immediately noticeable. She’s reclining on a sleek leather couch, looking effortlessly casual in a soft rust-coloured jacket and a white top. Her hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, and there’s a small smile on her face as she watches you enter.

“Perfect timing,” she says warmly, her tone smooth.

Rio closes the door behind the two of you, crossing the room to sit at her desk opposite Agatha’s. She moves quickly but jumps slightly when she sits, her hand gripping the edge of her desk for a moment as she adjusts herself in the chair. Her cheeks are still tinged pink, and you can’t help but notice the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“You okay?” you ask, sliding into the chair at Agatha’s desk.

“Fine!” Rio chirps, her smile a little too wide. “Let’s get started, yeah? Verb conjugations—your favourite.”

She flips open her own notebook, launching into a rapid explanation of present-tense endings. You do your best to focus, but something about her energy feels off. Her breath catches occasionally as she talks, and her legs bounce slightly under the desk.

Behind you, Agatha doesn’t say a word. You can feel her eyes on the two of you; her calm, steady presence is a stark contrast to Rio’s restlessness. When you glance back at her, she’s lounging like a queen, one arm draped over the back of the couch, her lips quirked in a knowing smile.

Rio’s voice quivers slightly as she explains another verb conjugation, her hands fidgeting with her notebook as though it’s the only thing tethering her to the moment. You do your best to follow along, but the tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Alright,” Rio says, her voice pitching slightly higher than normal. “So for nosotros, hablar becomes—”

“They deserve a break,” Agatha cuts in smoothly, her voice like honey.

Rio immediately stops talking, her eyes darting nervously toward Agatha, who is now sitting forward slightly, her hand resting on her knee. She pats her lap, her lips curling into a gentle yet commanding smile as her gaze lands on you.

“Come here, sweetheart,” she says softly, the words sounding so innocuous yet carrying an undeniable weight.

You hesitate for a moment before standing, your heart thudding in your chest as you cross the short distance to her. Agatha’s hands immediately find your waist, guiding you to sit sideways in her lap. She wraps her arms around you, holding you close as she presses a kiss to your temple.

“Much better,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against your skin.

Behind you, Rio shifts in her seat again, her breath hitching audibly. A quiet whimper escapes her, and you glance back to see her biting her bottom lip, her fingers gripping the edge of her desk like she’s barely keeping herself together.

Agatha notices too, of course. Her sharp eyes miss nothing. “Continúa mi amor,” she speaks to Rio, her voice low and lilting.

Rio blinks rapidly, her cheeks flushing even darker as she nods. “Sí, mi vida.”

She fumbles with her notebook again, launching into another explanation about verb conjugations, but her words are stilted, her voice trembling slightly.

Agatha’s hand rests innocently on your thigh at first, her fingers lightly tracing small circles through the fabric of your sweatpants. You try to focus on what Rio is saying, but the warmth of Agatha’s touch is distracting. The circles grow larger, her fingers inching higher with every pass, and soon you feel her hand creeping up toward the apex of your thighs.

Your breath hitches, and you glance up at her. “What are you doing?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Agatha smiles down at you, her expression sweet but laced with something far more mischievous. “Teaching you a lesson,” she replies smoothly, her tone teasing. “I haven’t forgotten about yours and Rio’s little escapade in the hotel room that morning.”

Your eyes widen in realisation, and as you shift slightly in her lap, you catch a glimpse of her phone resting on the arm of the couch. The app open on the screen makes your stomach flip—it’s the controls for a long-distance vibrator. You glance at Rio, who is squirming more noticeably now, her breath coming in shallow pants as her eyes dart between you and her notebook.

“Rio is going to learn to keep her hands to herself,” Agatha continues, her voice low and steady. “And you, sweetheart, are going to learn to control yourself.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, and you swallow hard as she gives you a gentle nudge. “Stand up,” she commands softly.

You obey, your legs shaky as you rise to your feet. Agatha’s hands find the waistband of your sweatpants, her fingers tugging them down with deliberate slowness until they pool at your ankles.

“Mmm, such a good pet,” she hums, her praise making your cheeks heat as you step out of the fabric and sit back down on her lap.

This time, she adjusts your position, guiding you so that you’re sitting more squarely in the middle of her lap. As you settle, you feel something hard pressing against you through her pants, and your breath catches in your throat.

“Now,” Agatha says, her tone deceptively calm as she leans back slightly, one arm draped possessively around your waist. “Let’s see if you and Daddy can do as you’re told.”

You swallow hard, nodding as you try to focus on Rio, who looks just as flustered as you feel. Her cheeks are tinged pink, and she avoids looking directly at Agatha’s hand, which rests high on your thigh. Rio clears her throat, her voice trembling slightly as she continues.

“¿Cómo se dice... they speak... en español?” She asks, gripping her pen tightly.

“Ellos hablan,” you manage to reply, though your voice wavers when Agatha’s hand starts to move. Her fingers trail lazily up your inner thigh, barely brushing the fabric of your underwear.

“Muy bien, cariño,” Agatha murmurs, her lips brushing against your ear. “But don’t lose focus now. Keep going.”

Rio nods quickly, her words spilling out in a rush. “Y... y cómo se dice... we are speaking?”

You open your mouth to answer, but it’s hard to form a coherent thought when Agatha’s fingers are now teasing the edge of your underwear; her touch so light it sends shivers up your spine. Your hips shift involuntarily when her fingers dip below the fabric, and Agatha hums in approval, her grip tightening around your waist to hold you still.

“Estamos hablando,” you finally gasp, the words barely audible as Agatha’s fingers press more firmly against you.

“Perfecto,” Agatha purrs, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “But you’re trembling, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re concentrating?”

Rio looks like she’s about to combust, her leg bouncing under the desk as she stumbles over her next question. “¿Cómo se dice... uh... you are speaking?”

You try to respond, but your voice falters when Agatha’s fingers begin to move in slow, deliberate circles. A soft moan escapes your lips before you can stop it, and you feel your cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“Focus,” Agatha whispers, though her actions are anything but helpful. “Vamos, nena. Dime la respuesta.”

You choke out, “Tú estás hablando,” but your voice is barely steady. Rio squirms in her chair, her breathing uneven, and her gaze flickers to Agatha’s hand for the briefest second before she looks away again, biting her lip.

“Very good,” Agatha praises, her voice sending a thrill through you. Then she taps your hip, her fingers stilling for a moment. “Lift up for me, sweetheart.”

You hesitate, glancing at her, but the look in her eyes leaves no room for argument. You rise slightly, your legs trembling, and she reaches into her waistband, pulling something out—a purple strap larger than the one she used on you before. She pulls your underwear to the side before guiding you back down onto her lap.

The moment you’re seated again, you can feel it—hard and unyielding—pressing deeply inside you. Your breath catches at the sudden, overwhelming sensation, and Agatha smirks, her hands settling firmly on your hips to hold you still, ensuring you feel every inch. The pressure against your walls is unrelenting, a heady mix of pleasure and control that sends sparks shooting up your spine. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, each shallow breath catching as heat pools low in your belly, threatening to consume you entirely.

“Now,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry, “let’s see if you can finish your lesson without completely falling apart. “Adelante, Río, y no seas fácil con les.”

Rio’s throat bobs as she swallows hard, her wide eyes betraying the tension coiling in her body. Her voice is barely a whisper as she continues. “¿Cómo se dice... we spoke?”

You open your mouth to reply, but Agatha’s hands begin to guide your hips in slow, deliberate movements, each motion sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. The friction is maddening, stealing the air from your lungs as a soft whimper escapes your lips. Your pulse thrums in your ears, and your thighs quiver, every nerve alight with sensation as you struggle to keep your focus, the words slipping through your mind like water through a sieve.

“Ha-habla…mos,” you stammer, but your voice is shaky and breathless.

Agatha chuckles softly, her lips brushing against your neck. “Otra vez,” she says, her tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Try again, sweetheart. Say it louder. Let Daddy hear you.”

Across from you, Rio is barely holding it together. She rocks faintly in her chair, her thighs pressing together as if seeking relief. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, and her free hand grips the desk so hard it looks like she might snap the wood in half. Her breath comes in uneven gasps; a small whimper escapes her as she fights to maintain her composure.

“Vamos,” Agatha whispers, her breath warm against your ear as she tightens her grip on your hips, helping you grind down harder against her. The tension inside you builds with every slow, deliberate movement, your body instinctively chasing the friction. A soft, needy sound escapes you, and you shiver as her voice washes over you, low and commanding, grounding you even as she unravels you. “No te distraigas.”

You let out a shaky moan, your head falling back against her shoulder as the sensations threaten to overwhelm you. Your heart pounds, your skin is flushed and hypersensitive, and every touch feels amplified, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Words hover on the tip of your tongue, but they dissolve into broken gasps before you can speak.

Just as your eyes flutter shut, lost in the haze of it all, Agatha reaches for her phone with one hand, tapping the screen. 

“Ughhhh, Aggie, no,” Rio whines frustratedly, her body jerking slightly at the sudden loss of sensation. She glares at Agatha, who raises a single brow in amusement.

“No tan rápida mi vida,” Agatha says smoothly, her voice dripping with authority. “You’ll wait until I say so.”

Rio bites her lip, her cheeks flushed, and you can feel the tension in the room thickening.

But you don’t have time to dwell on it—Agatha’s movements beneath you are maddening, each shift sending a spark of pleasure through you that makes coherent thought nearly impossible. Her hips tilt upward slightly with each slow, deliberate thrust, the firm pressure pushing you closer to the edge with every pass. It’s intoxicating, the way her body presses into you, filling you with a deep ache that you can’t escape. You try to answer the next question Rio poses, but the words come out in a garbled mess, your focus completely shattered.

Agatha clicks her tongue disapprovingly and stills your hips with a firm grip. The sudden lack of motion leaves you aching, your thighs trembling as you try to shift for relief, but her hold on you is unyielding. The throbbing heat between your legs grows unbearable, each second of stillness stretching endlessly. The whimper of frustration that escapes you only earns you a soft mocking chuckle.

“¿Qué dije sobre enfocar?” She scolds, her voice low and commanding. “Answer Daddy, or we stop right here.”

Your face burns with embarrassment as you force yourself to focus, stumbling over the words as you manage to form a proper sentence. Agatha hums in approval, but she doesn’t let you move again just yet.

“Good,” she murmurs, her hand sliding up your side in a soothing gesture. “See? You can behave when you try.”

She waits until Rio asks the next question before finally resuming her movements. This time, her hips push up into you more deliberately, slow and measured, as if testing your resolve. Each thrust presses into the perfect spot, a deliberate rhythm that makes your breath catch and your knees tremble. It’s almost cruel how slowly she moves, dragging out every sensation until you’re teetering on the brink.

Rio’s eyes widen, her breath coming in shallow bursts. She clears her throat and stammers out the next question, her voice barely above a whisper. “¿Cómo se dice... they danced?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Agatha’s hands start guiding your hips again, setting a slow, torturous rhythm that has you clenching your teeth to stifle a moan. The friction is maddening, each grind of her hips sending shockwaves through your body that leave you gasping for air. You feel impossibly full, the steady motion of her beneath you making your head spin as heat coils tighter in your core.

“I—I don’t—” you start, but the words dissolve into a whimper as Agatha’s fingers slip under the hem of your cropped vest, brushing against your nipple.

“Don’t stop now,” Agatha murmurs, her voice like velvet. “You can do it, baby. Say it.”

Your answer is a garbled mess, barely comprehensible as you fight to stay coherent. The thrusts beneath you grow slightly firmer, and she pinches your nipple, drawing a broken cry from your lips. The steady pressure and her soft words blur together, leaving you utterly at her mercy.

Across from you, Rio is trembling, her fists clenched at her sides as she rocks forward slightly in her desperation. She bites her lip, her cheeks flushed as she tries to keep her composure, though her glazed-over expression betrays her struggle.

Agatha notices immediately. Her sharp eyes flick to Rio, and her lips curl into a dangerous smile. “¿Qué crees que estás haciendo, amor?” she says, her voice cutting through the tension in the room. “Stand up. Legs apart.”

Rio hesitates for a moment before obeying, her movements stiff and jerky. She stands with her legs spread slightly, her hands clenched into fists as she tries to keep still under Agatha’s watchful gaze. The air between the three of you feels electric, charged with an intensity that makes your skin prickle.

“Good,” Agatha says approvingly. Her focus returns to you, and her tone softens. “Now, let’s finish this lesson with one more question.”

Rio swallows hard, her voice shaking as she asks, “¿Cómo se dice... we ate?”

Your mind is a haze of pleasure and tension, the words slipping from your grasp as you struggle to focus. Each deliberate thrust from Agatha beneath you sends fresh waves of heat through your body, clouding your thoughts and making it nearly impossible to form words. Your hips instinctively try to grind against her, desperate for more, but her firm hands keep you in place, controlling every movement.

“Co-com—” you stutter, but you can’t get the syllables out.

Agatha stills your movements suddenly, her grip on your hips tightening as she tilts your head to meet her gaze. The abrupt stop leaves you trembling, every nerve screaming for relief as the tension in your body builds to unbearable levels

“No te distraigas,” she scolds gently, her expression calm but firm. “Answer Daddy. Now.”

The commanding tone snaps you back into focus, and with a shaky breath, you finally manage to stammer out, “C-comimos.”

Agatha’s lips curve into a satisfied smile. “Well done,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. Then her hands slide back down to your hips, and she resumes the slow, deliberate rhythm that has you gasping for air. This time, her thrusts are more purposeful, each one pushing you closer to the edge, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core. Your vision blurs, your body trembling uncontrollably as you give in to the sensation.

“You’ve done good enough, sweetheart. No more questions. Now it’s time for you to enjoy yourself.”

Her attention shifts briefly to Rio, who looks like she’s about to unravel completely. “You,” Agatha says sharply, her tone brooking no argument, “will stay exactly where you are. Don’t move. Just watch.”

Rio’s breath hitches, her body trembling as she nods, her eyes fixed on the two of you. Her gaze feels like fire on your skin, but you’re too far gone to care, completely lost in the steady rhythm of Agatha’s movements and the way she keeps pushing you closer, her voice a soft murmur in your ear as you come undone.

Agatha’s hands tighten their hold on your hips, her fingers digging in just enough to anchor you to her. The slow, deliberate thrusts beneath you become a little harder, a little deeper, and the sensation sends shockwaves through your body. Each motion builds the pressure inside you, pushing you closer and closer to a breaking point that feels just out of reach.

“Such a good little slut,” Agatha murmurs in your ear, her voice a molten whisper that makes your toes curl. “You’ve been so good, finally learning some control.” Her lips brush against the curve of your neck, and her teeth graze your skin ever so lightly. “I want you to fall apart for me. Completely.”

Your body arches against her as she begins moving you faster, her hips meeting yours with a precision that’s almost too much to handle. The heat pooling low in your belly threatens to consume you, each thrust sending sparks shooting up your spine. You can’t hold back the moans spilling from your lips anymore, the sounds filling the room alongside Rio’s uneven breaths.

One of Agatha’s hands slips between your legs, her fingers circling your throbbing clit as her other holds you steady. “That’s it,” she coos, her tone laced with both encouragement and command. “Cum for me, darling. Let it take you over.”

Her voice, her touch, her presence—it’s all too much. The tension that has been winding tighter and tighter finally snaps, and the release crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your entire body trembles as the pleasure surges through you, every nerve alight as you cry out, the sound raw and unrestrained. The slick evidence of your release soaks into the fabric of Agatha’s pants, sdrenching her completely and leaving a visible mess against her thighs. She doesn’t seem to care—if anything, it only makes her smirk widen, a flicker of pride in her darkened gaze.

Agatha doesn’t let up, guiding you through every second of it, her hands and movements steady even as your body shakes with the force of your climax. She whispers soft praises in your ear, grounding you as the intensity leaves you breathless and utterly undone. “Look at the mess you’ve made,” she chuckles, her tone almost teasing as her fingers trail lazily over the damp fabric. “Such a good little thing for Mommy.” Her lips brush against your temple as she slows her movements, her hands now soothing rather than controlling. “So perfect. I knew you could do it.”

You slump against her, utterly spent, your chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Her arms wrap around you securely, holding you close as you come down from the overwhelming high. For a moment, the room is quiet except for the sound of your breathing and Rio’s soft, stifled whimpers from where she stands frozen, obediently still but visibly affected.

Agatha strokes your hair, her voice a gentle murmur against your ear. “You did so well, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” Her lips press against your forehead.

You let yourself melt into her, your body boneless and your mind hazy with satisfaction. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you register Rio’s quiet, needy sigh, but Agatha’s warmth and the steady rhythm of her breathing lull you into a calm, contented state.

She slips out of you and holds you tight, her hands brushing soothing circles over your back as she presses gentle kisses to your temple. When she finally moves again, it’s to slip one strong arm beneath your legs and the other around your back, effortlessly lifting you into her arms. You can’t help but sigh and rest your head against her shoulder, utterly spent but feeling safe in her hold.

As she carries you toward the bathroom, her voice cuts through the stillness, firm but not unkind. “Rio, my love, go order us something for dinner—whatever you want.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, and Rio, still flushed and squirming with pent-up frustration, lets out a soft, frustrated sigh before nodding obediently.

“Fine,” Rio mutters, her voice tinged with both respect and disappointment. You catch the faintest hint of a pout as she heads toward the kitchen, her steps slow and reluctant.

The bathroom is dimly lit, the soft glow of candles casting warm light over the tiles. Agatha sets you down carefully on the edge of the tub, steadying you as she kneels to turn on the taps, adjusting the water until it’s just right. As the tub fills, she helps you undress; her touches gentle but reverent, as though she’s still savouring every inch of you even in this quiet, intimate moment. When she lifts you into the water, you can’t help but let out a contented sigh as the heat soothes your tired muscles.

Agatha slides in behind you, her strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you back against her chest. The steady rhythm of her breathing and the warmth of the water lull you into a peaceful haze, her presence grounding you completely. She holds you close, her chin resting on your shoulder as her fingers trace lazy patterns along your arms.

“You were so good for me tonight,” she whispers softly, her voice low and soothing. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” Her lips brush against your temple, and you lean into her touch, the quiet intimacy of the moment filling your chest with warmth.

After the bath, Agatha wraps you in a plush towel, her hands steady as she dries you off, and helps you into a fresh set of clothes. By the time you return to the living room, Rio has returned with bags of takeout, her flushed cheeks, and the subtle shift of her legs betraying her discomfort. Agatha smirks knowingly but doesn’t say a word as she settles you onto the couch, pulling you snugly against her side.

The three of you share the meal together; the atmosphere warm and comfortable despite Rio’s occasional squirming. She shoots Agatha a few pleading looks, but Agatha only raises an eyebrow in silent challenge, her arm tightening around you possessively.

“Eat,” Agatha says calmly, gesturing to Rio’s plate. “You’ll get what you need—just not tonight.”

Rio huffs softly but obeys, though her fidgeting doesn’t let up. You curl further into Agatha’s side, feeling utterly content as the soft hum of conversation and the flicker of the TV fill the room. It’s a quiet, peaceful end to a long, intense evening, and as you drift closer to sleep, you can’t help but feel grateful for the comfort of the two people by your side.

READ THE NEXT PART

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y'all already know what I'm gonna say... please reblog and comment if you enjoyed. I love reading what you have to say about it, it really makes my day <3

asks are open if you want to chat/have an idea you'd like to see

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[gamblersdoll]

nsfw

katsuki who was so nervous about you riding him for whatever reason, he was just so against it and would always groan when you asked about it.

“puhlease kat? you always ride my ass!” you whine, clinging to his arm as he typed away at his computer. he groaned, bouncing his knee.

“we’ll talk.” he says, ruffling your hair, practically tangling it. he pats you away, focusing on the commission letter.

not today though, because you finally got what you wanted.

and why did katsuki have a problem with it? not vulnerability, not some kind of insecurity, not some emasculating experience..

he just doesnt know how to react to it, like should he command you from the bottom or ..? he didnt know, all he knew was that you felt way too fucking good. you felt like heaven right now, seeing you use his cock like he was some kind of toy.

his head is almost buried into the pillows, adams apple on display and you see the under his jaw. he opens his mouth, a throaty pant and heavy breathing coming out and his hands grip your hips.

“like, this katsuki?” you ask so sweet, your lip gloss smeared from his rough kisses.

“uh huh, fucken just like that— oh shit.” he groans, his eyes rolling back to his skull as his eyes were closed. he grunts a ‘mm!’ and looks back down to where you connect. “use me, use that cock.”

you nod, moving your hips back and forth now. your clit grinds against his abdomen, a mon erupting from your throat and you go back to moving up and down his length.

“fuck, mama.” he rolls his eyes again, hands letting you go and a hand covers his eyes— he whining from his throat, “h’oh my god.”

it made you even more aroused when he whined, feeling his balls lurch under you.

“its all yours,” he groans, looking back up at you in a fucked out state. “this cock here, hm?” he says, leaning up and taking his index plus his thumb around his cock, wiggling it inside of your frothy walls. “its all fucking yours. fuck me.”

you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and he takes the opportunity to thrust his cock into you at a violent fucking pace. “k-katsuki! katsuki!” you moan, tapping on him in a attempt.

he grins, laughing at bring you back down with him. “the fuckin’ neighbors will hear us if you keep this up.” he grins, open the door to the window next to him. “yeah? you hear how i fuck her?” he shouts out for neighbors to hear, landing a mean slap on your ass.