#i cant wait to try and pull her

[touyanii]

stayed up until 4am to read 20+ noragami chapters because of a spoiler i saw, just to realize that the chapter with said spoiler will only be released in january. i could have just read a couple chapters weekly, leading up to january, if i had known, rip

[im2tired4usernames]

Ugh I was excited for today until I found out I'd have to spend it with people that actively make me hate being alive hate the future and drain me off all energy physically mentally spiritually like a vampire I can't stand to be around her she is the definition of stupidity and even then that's generous as fuck this bitch has filled her brain with so much garbage I watch her brain cells die at alarming rates every single time she uses her vocal cords her giggles make me want to jam a sewing needle into my ear repeatedly so I can never have to hear it again its a friendly reminder that my parents decisions this time my dad's constantly makes me want to die

[sylphwing]

i want to see freya

[jarvis-cockhead]

when will they make a britpop based gacha rhythm game

[essential-randomness]

Today has been the hardest day in a while and sometimes it feels all so pointless

[elegyofthemoon]

welp! i finished catching up with 2.1 thankfully but -

[syluses]

separation anxiety

⤷ caleb experiences a rut after a long time, and it just so happens that you’re in his path.

cw. 18+ smut, hybrid! caleb, knotting, dubcon if you squint, breeding, obsessive/possessive behavior, perv caleb, fem human! reader, ruts, size difference, also a lil breeding, 3.5k words because i physically struggle to write smut without a preamble, reader is ovulating and it triggers his rut this time for whatever reason

an. saw this trope going around & wanted to try it <33 he’s got that DAWG in him 💪 also i cant decide if hybrid caleb gives german shepherd vibes or samoyed vibes…. that moments post lives rent free in my mind tho idk (>_<)

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, & 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅! (๑´ `๑)♡

Caleb would say he hates you for the time you’re gone, but it’d be a big fat lie. His love for you, big and bursting in his chest, deepens in the quiet windows where you’re present at work or running errands throughout Linkon before returning home to him.

There’s a permanence of you in his mind and being. He wants it no other way.

His devotion for you doesn’t necessarily drown him- no, you’re always there with a lifering waiting- but it certainly sweeps him up and threatens to.

He gets a bit ahead of himself sometimes, he’s aware of that; energetic, bulging at the seams with vigor; whether it’s an integral part of his personality or just a consequence of his breed, the pound he came from never quite knew. Your Gran never figured that out, either, and for as sweet and trying as she was, she soon realized she couldn’t foster him for long.

Because he was a big boy, hungry for attention and wired to please, well-meaning but oft over involved with personal space— and he brought a loaded package that your Gran just couldn’t sign her name off on, not after a few months, anyway. She tried her best before nudging him into your care, because she sure as hell wasn’t about to give him up to that squalid pound or the streets again- and besides, the mutt liked her granddaughter; all those visits she paid throughout the summer obviously endeared Caleb to her, and quickly.

You admit, it’s a mite difficult to juggle between long days at work, little tasks that drag you from point to point throughout Linkon, and your own personal life on top of caring for a hybrid stowed away in your shoebox apartment— but your grandmother was all but sapped of her energy then, turning to you for aid although she seldom ever did, and you’d always lend a hand where you could.

The mutt- Caleb, is his name (and you call it fondly even as he’s pawing at your thighs for attention or drooling on your collar)- has grown on you considerably in the past half year, anyway.

You won’t let him down or leave him at the curb. He’s yours. The red collar you bought him says as much, printed with your number on a silver plate, and he wears it not because you make him but because he’s proud of it.

He’s a good boy, he is. He always has been and for that you’re thankful.

Except, this week he’s… different.

As of a few days ago, it’s like he’s been testing the waters- and your patience- on just how far he can go before you tell him off or say bad dog. He must find them warm because he’s just been diving deeper as the week progresses.

You don’t know what to do. He’s oddly aggressive. It’s not rare at all for him to follow you all around your apartment, but he’s foregone the very last shred of respect for your personal space and nips when you try to push him away. Not hard enough to actually hurt- the yip you make is more surprised than anything when he pulls you back in and licks at the small red patch- but you look wounded at it.

Because Caleb doesn’t bite— he just doesn’t.

He wraps you up in seemingly endless embraces and breathes your smell in until he’s dizzy, laughing into your neck like a giddy child. He does this every time you try to leave for work and he’s made you late for it.

Maybe it’s just because you’re ovulating and a little hormonal, but it makes you quite sour and the mood stays even when you return in the afternoon. He’s never liked when you’re gone, sure, but he’s always been there to see you off at the door with a pout as you scratch behind his ear- more or less tame about it.

Your patience really frays at the odd uptick in his possessiveness, though. It’s hurtful.

You’ve always treated him less like a pet- a hybrid- and more like a friend, and you feel quite indignant for it when he growls and tells you that he hates the smell of other men on you, hearing none of your excuses that it’s ‘just coworkers’, glaring at you like some brainless extension of him. You feel less like a person and more like an object, a streetlamp in which he emerges from the shadows for just to piss on to show it belongs to him.

He’s touchy. Snippy. Glued to your side at all times. It’s concerning and frustrating and confusing all at once.

By the fifth day mark, on Friday night, you’re tuckered out by it and don’t question where he is when you return home early from a shift and he’s, uncharacteristically, not there to greet you.

A red collar however, laid on the floor, its tag glittering under dim hallways lights, strikes you as both curious and unsettling.

He never takes that off. No- says it’s his way of showing you and the whole world that he belongs to you, and— have you been too impatient with him lately? Brusque? Maybe you’re a little hormonal but it’s no cause to get short with him, even when he’s acting up, and what if he no longer wants you as his owner—

A gasp.

You find him in your bedroom, humping your pillow, yowling as he comes undone- unawares- and the walls spin as you nearly faint.

You drop your purse. “Caleb!” You shriek, and a visible shiver rolls down his spine as he turns around.

“Bad dog!”

✦

You sleep on it.

Well, you wash your sheet and your pillowcases- and then you sleep on it.

Maybe you overreacted. If anything, you should be grateful for what you walked in on because otherwise, he wouldn’t have known how to tell you he’s been going through a bit of a hot phase- the first of his you’ve experienced- and doesn’t know how to control himself.

You blush just thinking about it, shame knocking in your chest as your heart beats heavy. You feel awful for walking in on him for a number of reasons. One of them being he came all over your bed- and his tummy- and you had to clean both up through furious tears as you peeled your covers off the mattress and pointed him off in the direction of the bathroom, telling him to run the faucet and quick.

A pass of guilt, the fear of you being angry with him, made its round across his kicked expression but he held off on arguing.

For the first documented time in the whole week, Caleb appeared mellow- not agitated, restless, or tense- and rather crestfallen, and you noted it only vaguely as you irately turned on the washer.

Now, it’s in the forefront of your brain.

Well, if he’s been going through some kind of rut lately, it only makes sense he’d be all kinds of pent up, and that his release (albeit in an inconvenient way and place) would provide some relief.

It’s closer to noon when you finally exit your bedroom and meet him at the sofa- the same one you’d all but banished him to last night. He prefers to spend his nights with you, either curled up at your side or splaying his full weight over your back- a breed-relative habit, you’re sure. You’ve heard of some other kinds who enjoy a room to themselves or do just fine with the couch, on their lonesome— But not Caleb.

He looks tired but perks up when he hears you patter down the hall, violet eyes lighting when you timidly take a seat.

With a bit of hesitation, he inches closer until you sheepishly wave a hand and he barrels into your arms.

“Ah- Caleb-“

Before you can even apologize for your jumping the gun last night, he beats you to the punch. “M’ sorry. You don’t hate me for it, do you?” He sighs into your collar and you shiver, “I wish you could understand what it feels like- I wouldn’t have done it if it was somethin’ I could control, I hope you realize that.”

You swallow, digesting his words as you belatedly place a hand on his head to pet. He positively melts. “Y-Yeah,” you mumble back. “It’s okay. I actually wanted to say sorry too. I- I didn’t understand what was going on…”

A deep groan looses from his throat, his chest swelling with content as you itch that spot behind the furry ears say upright on his head. They give a few twitches as he leans against you and wraps his muscular arms around your middle, resting his chin by your shoulder.

“It’s my fault, though, not yours. I didn’t know how to tell you- I was worried you’d just end up scared’a me, or…”

His pause instills interest in you. Your fingers smooth back his brown locks, mussed from fitful sleep, and he sighs. “Or what?” You press softly.

You pull him back just enough to get a look at him, his cheekbones almost shiny with a dusting of pink. His thick brows furrow together.

“Or that you’d leave,” he whispers.

Your eyes widen. You lasso your arms around his neck and pull him to you, your head slotting above his shoulder as his fingers quickly move to support the position, one hand perched at your thigh and the other braced at your side.

“Nonsense,” you grumble at his ear, a bit angry at the suggestion. “I’d never leave you.”

Something hard, then, prods at your middle- too fleshy to be something in either of your pockets- and you stiffen at the realization as it comes a beat too late.

Caleb’s voice is breathy at your ear, low, his tail thumping on the cushion. “Yeah?” He murmurs, a pang of heat stirring in your belly at the sound. Suddenly aware, you gently go to push at his broad chest but he stops you with an imploring look- although the desire, brewing in dilated pupils, isn’t lost on you- and musters a pout.

It looks out of place, the wholesome gaze marred by hunger as it reshapes his puppyish look.

“Even when I am no better than a bad dog?”

Your brow quirks, “I didn’t mean it,” you whisper, wide-eyed as his eyes bore into yours. Every micro expression you make is being catalogued and noted with utmost care, his pink tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips as they grow dry.

“It’s okay if you did,” he murmurs back. “I’m just glad I have you around to remind me of my place…” Long, slim fingers reach up and you watch, unseeingly, as they stroke your cheek, his other hand creeping dangerously close to the waistband of your sleep shorts.

He chuckles, but the humor wanes quickly.

“Otherwise, I’d always be misbehaving. Do you even know what you do to me?” His voice is meaningful, torrid, as he draws in and the tip of his nose brushes with yours. You can’t find it in you to move as your thighs- the ones he slithers a singleminded hand in between- begin to roil with unexpected warmth.

You plant a hand to his chest, shying away, “C-Caleb-“

“Don’t worry,” he says sweetly, “M’ not gonna hurt you. I just….” He lets out a sigh, long and perhaps just a bit exaggerated- but it has the intended effect on you. You purse your lips and feel a trace of guilt twist in your heart.

“You drive me crazy. Y-Your smell- I don’t know why this is happening, either. Honestly? I haven’t had a rut in a couple years. But this…”

Caleb lets out a soft noise of pleasure, lending his full weight to you when he breathes you in and shakes.

When he speaks next, his words come out raspy and so low you hardly register them as his breaths grow labored- they’re all you can hear as the living room space shrinks down to just him and the knuckles that dare to dip into your panties.

“This is just too unfair. You won’t leave me hangin’, pretty,… w-will you?” Breathy. With an undeniable streak of need. You can’t miss the lust that usurps the softer parts of him and makes him look less puppyish and cheerful and more wolfish, calculating.

And, well, when he puts it like that, how could you?

✦

He doesn’t fuck you on the couch. He takes you to your bed and fucks you there like a lover would.

He fucks you deep and fast- to his credit, he doesn’t hurt you, staying true to his word, but the possibility of bruises becomes a nearer thing when he folds your legs back and his grasp becomes constricting, plunging in and out of your cunt with rapt focus. Indigo eyes glow with something feral, like you’ve given him no choice but to claim his ownership over you through sloppy kisses and clinking teeth as he pounds into you, driven him into a corner- but his touch turns worshipful when he presses his forehead to yours and moans.

“Ah- y-you feel so good, so tight,” he compliments, words almost slurred. His pupils expand and he looks no different than a drunken, babbling man, his cheeks a rosy red.

His murmurs are wet against your lips as they graze and mush with his, Caleb’s face so close to yours that his lashes tickle your brow as he gawks at you, so entranced by whatever it is he’s seeing to look away.

A fluffy tail sways unevenly behind him and touches your leg on occasion, almost like it’s trying to curl around you, prickling and eager. Every part of him gravitates to you. You’re the ground beneath his feet. Fertile land.

“And you’re all mine, okay? Nobody else’s. I want you to wear my scent- to carry me with you no matter where you go. You have to promise me you will- mmph- That sound good-?

“C-Caleb—“

You groan when he stuffs himself deeper inside and you swear you feel his length throb inside your walls, stretching. The veins running along his shaft carve out a new pathway in you, one special and just for him, as his balls- heavy and fat, with a hell of a lot to give- slap against your ass. Slick oozes out from the squelching seam of you, coating his thick cock but you still struggle to accomodate his size despite the lubrication.

He’s made to make you feel as if you’re losing your mind. You snatch your jaw with your own hand to keep the flurry of high-pitched sounds from spilling out lest they embarrass you, but he shoos it away and cuffs your wrists with a hand splayed over them.

“Nah- I wanna hear you, baby. You can’t keep holdin’ out on me like this... I’m giving you my all right now, so it should be pretty obvious that you can do the same, yeah?”

A mewl punches out from your lungs half a second later and he seems quite contented at that. He sighs, closing his eyes, saying,

“I’ve been good all along. Can’t you play the part, too? I just want you to see how much I really love you,” his confession is by no means considered casual what with the passion in which its conveyed, but you can’t help but feel it’s a little sudden, said a little too quickly, and you wonder if he means what he says or if the rut is responsible for all these novel, amorous feelings in him.

I mean, he’s probably too wrapped up in the moment to even contemplate his own admissions as they all spew out—

“Caleb, too big—“ you gasp, cutting him off, and he lets out a strangled kind of noise when your walls clamp around him.

Holyfuck holyfuck holyfuck do it again, he wants to say, suffocate me, but nothing comes out and he realizes after a long second that his vision has whited completely. He can’t see anything; he’s in a fuzzy, dazzling world with the blinders on and all he can smell and feel is you- your scent, sugar sweet and about as inviting as a barstool pulled out, envelopes him and he can’t breathe. Can’t speak.

He fucks into you with reckless abandon, huffs you in like it’s his final breaths, and then lets it all go without care for anything else. Far as he’s concerned, everything he knows is defined by you. This is a give and take relationship: he actually gives a damn about your opinion of him and takes all you have to offer.

He’s in love, puppyish and clumsy but fuck you lead the way and lead him on.

“Shh, I know,” he rasps out, steaming up your neck like a fogged window pane as he insinuates himself there. Your whole body feels like a furnace, burning up for him as he opens you up and tucks himself inside.

“I know it’s big, but you gotta be ready for-“ he clips his sentence short, thinking better of it.

He wants to warn you of his impending knot- the one that’ll no doubt leave you yelping and writhing away from him- you certainly deserve as much of a foreword to it, but part of him is just so terrified you’ll reject him or deny him the priviledge of shoving it inside you and fuck he can’t have that.

Caleb’s nothing if not loyal. He’s also nothing if not selfish. That’s always been a wriggling bug he’s tried to stomp out but it remains in the baser part of him, only amplified by the intense rut that came right out of the blue.

He wants you singing his name and bonded to him (or as much of a bond the two of you can form), and so that’s what he’ll get.

He’ll apologize later, and you will forgive him. So all’s fine.

“Y-You can take it,” is the simpler thing he settles on, and you let it pass, because between the fat cockhead splitting you apart deliciously and the sweet, somewhat perturbing nothings he gushes at your ear, you’re deaf to most of everything.

But when you come- unexpected and sharp, overwhelming your senses as your hips ruck up and he has to pin you down in place and ride it out with you as you cream around him- the scream you let out rings in your ears and so does his ferocious grunt. It’s loud and you’re so numb as seconds pass that feel like eons; pointed teeth teasing at the squishy chunk of your shoulder, invoking a buried sense of alarm.

And then he’s biting down hard- not just nipping- the pleasure thankfully driving off the pain as he ploughs inside, muffling a string of curses as he picks up his pace. Caleb gets sloppier and sloppier and then he’s burning white-hot inside you and moaning like a pornstar, pelvis juddering as he comes.

“Mmh- f-fuck- Good girl!” he rewards with half a brain, fucked out into perfect oblivion, and for a second you wonder why his voice sounds more meant for comfort than praise- until you expect him to pull out but he doesn’t, something big and round forming at the base of his cock that has his eyes fluttering back as it pops in. He goes boneless on top of you as every limb of yours stiffens and coils around his broad back.

You scream his name. He shivers.

It feels enough to shatter your mind- the pain searing you, but the ghost of pleasure that creeps up along your nervous system makes you go like jelly beneath him, helpless to whatever he’s got planned for you.

“C-Caleb, you-!”

“Yeah, a bad dog, a bad dog,” he stammers, whimpering at your earlobe, “I know, baby, I know. Just- don’t shut me out, okay? I- It’ll be over soon, just- ah- loosen up around it, okay? It’ll feel so much better that way. Just… hold on to me.”

“I-It hurts-!”

“Ngh, shhh…” He trembles out, shifting to sample a broken mewl from your lips, cupping your jaw with all the love in the world and staring at you as if you told the sun to rise this morning. “Be a good girl and take it, mm? Your pussy’s squeezing me so tight, I think she wants it too, but she has to relax a little first, yeah? Mm… I could give you a whole litter of pups. Give your Gran a bunch of cute lil granbabies to drive her crazy.”

You choke on your own spit, the brunet letting out a near delirious chuckle at the idea and your reaction to it before his brow gives a wince, your walls instinctively trying to push his swollen knot out.

“Wha- Caleb, is that even-?”

“I don’t know,” he kisses your forehead tenderly, his tail giving a heavy, excited thump behind him on the bed as you grab the sheets for dear life and they wrinkle, pinched like your conflicted expression.

“But I’ve been dyin’ to try it out for myself.”

[kurokawaia]

BABY, YOU UP? 彡 Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi, Aizawa

| MDNI - 18+ | WARNINGS :: bakugou x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader, dabi x fem!reader, x fem!reader, shoto x fem!reader, slight somnophilia!, pet names 'doll' 'baby' 'good girl' 'slut', voice kink, hair tugging, implied d/s in aizawas, praise, oral -> male recieving, possession + more? MINI ONESHOTS. total wc :: 2.7k

⋆·˚ ༘ *REQUEST :: Could you please write a headcannon about you wake the mha boys in the middle of the night because u are horny and wanna fuck but they have a mission in the morning. But reader is being a needy slut and they cant resist her. (pls with dabi,katsuki,Aizawa and maybe shoto or anyone you like). Could u please write is very nsfw/suggestive👉👈🙂‍↔️Thaaank u so muuch! - @carokitten

DABI

This man is knocked out, when he says he is going to sleep, he is going to sleep and not waking up unless it's important. What's important right now for him? Waking up for his mission tomorrow which (to him) is an ungodly time in the morning (7am). What's important to you? Quenching that heat that's blooming in your lower abdomen as you had just woken up from a particularly nasty dream with Dabi. He's dead asleep—sprawled shirtless, half the blanket kicked off, scarred chest rising and falling steadily.

You couldn't help yourself crawl over him, straddling his waist, kissing his neck and tugging at his pants, whispering, "Please, Dabi... I need you."

He groans, cracking one eye open with a lazy smirk. "You’re fuckin’ serious right now, doll? Got a raid at 7 AM."

Your hips grind against him and your voice turns breathy, whispering, "Can’t help it… you’re so warm and I just wanna be full of you…"

His hand grabs your throat gently, lips curling up. "Tch. You’re lucky I like when you beg."

He flips you over, mouth hot on your skin. "Guess they can wait a little longer for me, huh?" And his didn't waste a second longer pulling up your black silk night gown and pulling your thong to the side, arousal connecting to the cotton. The smirk on Dabi's face deepens, "Needy slut, you are," he murmurs against your neck. "Good thing you're all mine."

All you could do was helplessly nod as a whimper spills past your lips when you feel scared hands tightly hold the backs of your thighs, pushing your legs up beside your head, folding your body into a tight mating press. It didn't take him a second longer to take his semi hard cock out. and to push it into your sopping cunt. 

A loud moan emits from your throat from the sudden contact, and feeling his cock grow hard inside you, pressing immediately against that soft spot inside your cunt, making your silky walls clench tight around his length. "Fuck," you whimper, trying to squirm away but you couldn't, you were to tight under him.

Your poor body being folded in such a position this early in the morning was not ideal.. but you did ask for it, so you can't do too much complaining. "Ah ah ah," he tuts, slowly thrusting into your pussy, a lewd squelching noise sounding through your shared room. Your knees were already beginning to ache but you can't move, not until he gets off you. "You're going to take all of it, doll. Every single inch of me."

"M'kay," you mumble, whines spilling in with your words, your hair sprawled out on the bed as you could feel a coil tighten in your stomach as he continued to make an absolute mess of you.

Dabi lowers down to your trembling body, tingles were getting sent all throughout your body from the kiss, he was being so rough yet deep. The breath was stolen from your lungs every time he moaned into your own, and you had the same effect on him.

"Such a good slut," he hums against your skin, inhaling your naturally sweet scent.

"Feels s' full though, Touya," you sob. "Don't think I can anymore."

"You asked for this, so you're going to take it all."

BAKUGOU

Bakugou is out cold, his face buried in the pillow and his hair is a mess as he snores very softly, only just a little bit. While you have tried to get yourself to finish, twice, but you haven't even gotten close to how your man does it to you, your fingers don't compare to his own and you weren't going to come down from your pleasure. You weren't, not until you had your release. Katsuki has ruined that pleasure for you because now you can't even do anything yourself anymore, you need to have him help you.

You couldn't take it anymore as a frustrated whimper softly escapes your lips, pressing your bare chest against his back, hand slipping under the covers to palm him.

He jolts awake, confused as he rolls onto his back. "The fuck you doin’? It’s—" Katsuki checks the digital clock on his bedside table and he lets out a sigh. "—3 in the fuckin’ morning, baby."

Two of your fingers hook around his boxers, a pout rising on your lips as you tug gently on the cotton. "I’m sorry... I just... need you... so bad, Kats'."

His breath stutters when your fingers move from the hem, going lower, and trace his semi hard cock causing sparks to flow through his veins at your gentle touch. "You tryna kill me before this goddamn mission?" he says before letting out a deep breathy sigh, his dick fully hardened under your hand.

You were about to say something in reply before you were quickly grabbed by the hips, throws you under him, your breasts squished up against the bed and your legs spread my Katsuki's knees, leaving you completely immobile as you couldn't even attempt to squirm out the position. "Hope you’re ready to take responsibility then, baby."

If there was one thing you knew, it was that Bakugou is rougher when he's tired, less patient with you and he will not stop until you're crying out his name. And that's exactly what he was doing.

Fat, hot, tears stream from your eyes and all Bakugou could do was smirk at the sight. If you wanted to be needy and get fucked, that is exactly what he was going to give you. The only gracious thing he had done so far was putting a pillow under your hips before letting your body rest fully down on the bed. This was more so for him rather than you... he needed a good angle to fuck you good. 

Bakugou's mass pressing down against your back. His abs were flush against your back, hands gripping the backs of your own, pressing them into the bed. Bakugou's breath tickled your ear and you wiggled your head at the warm sensation, your core getting wetter, your body trying to squirm away from the imposing hold that he had on you.

Bakugou's hands moved slowly, changing his grip so that one of his hands held both of you over your head, being cautious not to get your hair entangled within the movement. A content sigh leaves your mouth when Bakugou raises his body ever so slightly, trailing his free hand down the expanse of your smooth back before his fingers meet your slick entrance, filled with his cum from previous rounds.

"I'll make sure you're filled up real nice," he mutters against your ear before taking a nibble at the collagen, you let out a gasp at the sudden action.

Then you felt a heavy, throbbing tip press against your clit once more and you moaned from the small touch. You tried to squirm away from the pleasurable cause but couldn't as Bakugou knew your body more than you did yourself, he knew you were gonna try to run from his body due to the pleasure. So, he pressed his weight against you once more.

You held your breath when Bakugou sank his throbbing cock into your spongey walls, his length getting squeezed by every ridge within your soaked cunt. A moan left both of your mouths as Bakugou's length nudged the deepest spot within you.

"That's it, your cunt knows me so well," Bakugou moans, relishing in the way your walls clench him, how could he not want to cum inside, you feel so good. "Still taking me so good, baby." The praise makes your brain go fuzzy, numb from the pleasure. Yes, this is exactly what you needed. 

SHOTO

If Shoto is anything, he is 100% a light sleeper, so you can't even get out some enjoyment, so the second you shift from his hold and place your hands onto his chest, he doesn't miss it, slowly he blinks open his eyes. The first thing he can register, is the lusted gaze that has coated your face and the arousal soaking his body, yours and his own.

"Is something wrong?" he asks groggily. You look up at him with flushed cheeks and teary eyes.

"No, I just… I can’t sleep. I need you so bad, Sho'…"

His breath hitches, and his hand instinctively cups your cheek. "You… want to do that right now?" You lean down closer to him, lips barely grazing his own as you nod, grinding hard against him through your panties. Moans string from your moan when you feel him grow beneath you and Shoto closes his eyes, strewn in pleasure an his thoughts about the mission he has tomorrow.

His cheeks tint a soft red as he pauses his thoughts—mission? what mission?—he thinks sarcastically as he pulls your hips down harder. Number 2 heroing can come later...

"Okay. I’ll take care of you. Just try not to scream too loud… we still have to wake up early."

Shoto flips you around, pinning you to the bed with your arms and spreading your legs with his knees before capturing your lips into a deep and heavy kiss. He can feel your chest stuttering against his own with every breath he steals from you, along with the whimpers that escape your lips. Whimpers not only from the kiss but how his clothed cock perfectly slots against your bare cunt.

You didn't know how long you were going to hold out for...

But lets just say he definitely didn't disappoint you. 

AIZAWA

With Aizawa, you have to be careful around him, or else it wouldn't be a surprise, you have to be sneaking around to catch him off guard. So here you are, carefully straddling him, pressing slow kisses to his chest while he breaths deeply, still taken over by sleep, completely unaware of your advances.

You suck gently over his abs, then go lower, peppering kisses around and on the tuffs of his happy trail. A sigh of satisfaction leaves your mouth, if you had to do anything for the last time, this would be it because lord, you love his cock (and him).

A shift is felt beneath you and Aizawa's cock jumps beneath your throat before you felt fingers lacing through your hair. Aizawa tugs your hair, lifting your head up from his lower abdomen to meet his eyes, a moan falls past your lips at the gesture, your panties getting further soaked with arousal.

"And what are you doing?" he asks slowly, his voice rough and slightly scratchy from sleep which just made the heat grow bigger. Gods, you love his voice.

A sweet, sinful smile coats your lips and your hand trails down to his sweats, palming his semi-hard bulge through the fabric, "Just want you. Just for a bit. I’ll be good, I promise."

He sighs, already getting hard at the sight of you kneeling between his legs, eyes wide and needy. He desperately wanted to say he had a mission in five hours but he couldn't because he can't resist you, not at all. Aizawa lets out a sigh, mumbling, "What am I going to do with you?" before sitting up, back resting against the headboard. 

A sharp tug of your hair from Aizawa caused you to let out a pained moan, sending a pleasured shock to your heated core. Your face only a few mere inches away from his clothed, hard cock.  "Fine. But I'm using you. You started this—so you better not cry when I ruin that pretty throat of yours."

"I won't," you say, thighs clenching together, trying to relief the ache in your pussy, arousal slicking your thighs. As your doe eyes stare up into Aizawa's deep slate iris' you couldn't help but a pout befall your lips. "I promise," your fingers playing mindlessly with the hem of his sweats. 

Aizawa lets a gentle smirk rise before his free hand cups your jaw, thumb rubbing your bottom lips sensually before slipping his digit inside your mouth. Your tongue immediately wraps around his thumb, sucking slowly. "Such a good girl."

"Now get to work, sweetheart," Aizawa huffs, removing his thumb from your mouth.

Lowering your head, per your control and Aizawa's as his grip tightened around your hair, you pepper slow kisses over his hard cock, feeling the twitch come from his length after every kiss. "Don't tease," he grunts.

The roots of your head began to sting softly but it made you feel so good, and pleasuring Aizawa was more than you could ask for. Taking one last glance up, you watched him swallow the lump in his throat, eyes shut, waiting. You knew that if you pushed his too far, he'd use you in a way that have your neighbours worried from your screams.

The position you were in now, though, is perfect to suck him dry. You tug down the hem of his pants just enough to let his cock loose, long and thick, hitting just at his belly button. Gently, you grip his base, your free hand cupping his heavy balls, squeezing softly causing a a deep groan resonate from him. 

Angling his throbbing length towards you, you place a wet kiss on his tip, making sure your saliva drips down, wetting his cock. "That's it, good girl," Aizawa praises, and it only fuels your desire, your lower abdomen fluttering in response, pleasuring him makes you feel pleasured as well, because your oral fixation goes crazy. 

Dragging the flat of your tongue up the underside of his shaft, feeling the veins that sprung up to the head of his cock, deep groans are the only noises you hear, along with the wet slicking noises from the contact between your mouth and him. You spread the pre cum spilling from his slit before taking his throbbing length into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around his swollen pink tip before you took his cock further into your mouth.

"Deeper, sweetheart," he says, his hips trying not to thrust into your face. Aizawa was trying desperately not to fuck your mouth, wanting to see your lashes well with tears. A hum is muffled by his dick, the vibrations causing him to let out a deep moan. "Shit," he sighs, fuck.

Aizawa couldn't handle it anymore. If you're going to wake him up in the middle of the night, then you're getting what he gives. You gag on his length when he pushes your head down all the way to his base, your nose tickling his hair around his cock, your hand quickly makes contact with his thigh.

"That's it," he praises, moving your head at a pace he enjoyed, letting him take control. Aizawa started moving more quickly, which made you start crying even more. When you hollowed out your cheeks, he let out a stifled sigh that made him hesitate to approach further. He pulls away from you, his load spilling into your mouth. "Let me see."

You lift yourself up from his cock and stick out your tongue just for him, he lets two of his own fingers massage his cum on your tongue. "Good girl," he praises. "Swallow."

You nod, doing what he says.

"Are you feeling better?" Aizawa asks and you nod.

"Yeah!"

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

honey's a/note:: i hope this was okay lmao, there def is grammar and punc mistakes in this but oh well, 3am is peak writing time for me, i should be working on my presentation thats due in a fornight but oh well. if anyone has any other characters for this idea lmk :) or maybe the reverse role 👀 i know that some of these were half asses but ill get back to them i swear

[heyitslapis]

what fucking makes me want o rip my hair out when it comes to the security guy at work is that i'll even try to COMMUNICATE WITH HIM!!!!! (i know for people like us communication can be difficult & we often need specific clear wording and even then we have layers to peel back) When i cant tell if he's being sarcastic, i'll ask him genuinely, because as ive told him multiple times before the way he says things it literally cannot be interpreted as a joke (even neurotypicals at work have agreed with me in front of him) and always seems like he's being serious. i tell him this all the time and he acts like its fucking funny that im genuinely mad about the fact that he wont communicate back with me. Verbatim i have told him on multiple occasions "i genuinely cant tell when youre being sarcastic or making a joke because your tone is so flat and your face is so serious and deadpan and usually people will laugh or crack a smile a few seconds after the joke but you just stand there not expressing anything, even after i ask if its a joke because i genuinely cant tell"

YET HE CONTINUES TO FUCKING DO IT and then has the fucking GALL to laugh at me or call me gullible or naive when IM LITERALLY TRYING TO COMMUNICATE!!! bitch how tf am i supposed to know whats a joke and whats real when you act like im asking a fucking statue every time you say a lie or joke

[glamorizethechaos]

Bruises Pt 1 | Jack Abbot x Reader

Summary: When you find yourself in an abusive relationship, you never thought your attending Jack Abbot would become your protector and saving grace.

TW: domestic violence, addiction, alcohol, age gap relationship (reader is in late 20s & Jack is 49), blood, pining, angst, eventual smut. Not beta read.

If this flops I’m not writing part 2. Also if it flops I may cry so lie and tell me it’s good.

Word Count: 1.9k

There was no point in trying to cover the massive bruise on your face, it would only make things more suspicious. You dont exactly remember what make your fiancé Charlie snap, but before you knew it, you were on the floor of the kitchen, his fist making contact with your face. The air escaped your lungs as you felt a blunt force against your abdomen, your fingers sprawled out on the floor, trying to hold onto anything you could as you gasped for breath. You didnt move from the cold tile for a while, it bringing comfort to your burning flesh.

As you strode into The Pitt the next evening, you did so hesitantly, keeping your head down. It was shift change, Dana was still at the nurses station, glasses perched on the tip of her nose, and Robby was stuck in a trauma. Jack was at the computer, reading over the shift change reports.

"Evening." you said casually, setting your water bottle down on the desk. Dana was the first to glance up.

"Eve- what the fuck?"

Jacks head shot up, and without hesitation he rounded the desk, taking your face into his hands, inspecting the damage.

"What the fuck happened?" you avoided his gaze as he gently cupped your cheeks, brushing his thumb across the black and blue skin.

"I'm fine. I was playing baseball with my nephew, and he has a really good swing." you tried to chuckle through your lie. He studied your face, his jaw clenched and brow serious.

"Did you get an X-ray?"

"I'm fine. Really." you shook your head, but when he delicately pressed his fingers on your nose you jerked your head backwards with a wince.

"Bullshit you're fine, you're next for X-ray." he grabbed your wrist and started leading you towards radiology as you protested.

"I know we have other patients, but you cant treat them with a broken face. If its broken, you're going home."

"No!" you called out too eagerly, almost in a panic. Jack stopped in his tracks with a screeching halt, twisting around to look at you. His demeanor instantly changed, his gaze burned into your flesh as he studied you: your eyes, your shallow breathing, and your posture that seemed to be recoiling with each passing second. His jaw was clenched, but the grip on your wrist began to loosen, and he slowly let go. You looked down as his fingerprints began to fade away.

"I'm ordering a CT" he deadpanned with a quick turn, continuing your walk to X-ray. His pace speeding up over so slightly and you struggled to keep up. The air was heavy; the silence hung high in the air- only the hum of the hospital’s harsh artificial lights filled the uncomfortable void.

"For a broken nose?" you called out, confused.

"Just a precaution."

"We don't order CTs for a broken nose, Jack. I dont ne-"

"Will you just fucking listen for once?" he hissed through clenched teeth as you jerked backwards. Jack was known for his tough exterior, but he wasn't short, not with his patients, and especially not with you. You knew there was a soft side to him, one he rarely showed. You’ve seen him sit bedside with a young girl explaining to process of a medical abortion, you’ve watched him show his prosthetic leg to a terrified little boy with a broken arm, and you’ve watched him talk a fellow vet through a PTSD episode.

He pulled a gown down from the shelf in the waiting room and pressed it firmly against your chest. "Get dressed, when you're all done I'll come get you." Before you could respond he walked away, his fists balled by his sides. You had never seen Jack like this, what happened? It's like a flip switched. His body was tense, his eyes full of anger.

You look at your bruised face in the changing room as you took off your engagement ring and other jewelry. You did your best to cover your bruised body despite the gown being open all the way down the back. The radiology tech was the seasoned Maxine, having worked at PTMC for almost 40 years, and having pet names for everyone at the hospital.

“I’m not sure why he’s making such a fuss over a broke nose. He’s not my dad.” You kept the conversation going as she positioned you on the bed.

“What about your daddy?.” Maxine winked.

“Jesus Christ Maxine!” You blushed.

“I’m just teasing honey, he just cares about you that’s all. Some may say smitten.” the smell of cigarettes emanating from her Snoopy scrubs.

“You said you were gonna quit.” You tried to change the subject as you began to blush even harder.

“They haven’t killed me yet. Besides, talk to me when you’ve been working here as long as I have. How long have you been working here?”

“5 years.”

“See, you’re just a baby, baby.” She patted you shoulder and left the room to start the scan. “Just stay still for me doll and it’ll be done soon.” After CT you hurried to change out of your gown and back into your black scrubs. You were seething with anger and shock by how Jack had spoken to you earlier. You waltzed back down to the ER despite his orders and looked up at the patient board. 10 more in the waiting room since you went down to radiology? What the fuck?

“When you’re all done I’ll come and get you…” you began speaking to yourself in a mocking tone as your scanned your badge to pick up a new case, “who the fuck does he think he’s talking to?”

“What are you doing?” You spun to find Jack barreling toward the nurses station from curtain 3. “I told you I’d come get you when the CT was over.”

“And I’m not a child Jack. I’m a big girl, I can walk myself back to work. I don’t need you to hold my hand the whole way in case I get lost. Now if you’ll excusing me, I have a vomiting toddler in 12.” You tried to push past but he stepped in front of you, blocking your direction.

“Not until I see your scan results.” You were livid at how infantilizing he was being at the moment. You always thought he viewed you at incredibly capable. You searched his eyes, looking for at least something that would explain this sudden strange behavior. What did he know? What did he suspect?

“Step aside Dr. Abbot.” You squared up to him. Arms resting on your hips. He took a step forward, his chest almost pressed up against yours. You could feel the heat emanating from his body and your breath hitched in your throat.

“Uh Abbot,” Nurse Lena uncomfortably walked into whatever the hell this was. “CT and X-ray results are back.”

Jack backed up slowly, not taking his eye off you as he opened the files on his computer. He began to read, his hands resting on the desk in front of him.

“Why don’t we go over these somewhere a little bit quieter.” He asked, faking a smile and trying to find a private room. You followed in suit.

“You don’t have to take me aside to tell me I have a broken nose, Dr. Abbot.” You were almost 2 hours into your shift and hadn’t touched a patient yet. This was ridiculous.

“You’re right,” he answered back, closing the curtain behind you as you both ducked into Room 7. “I’d like you to tell me where these rib fractures came from”. He didn’t looked at you, just typed away at the computer pulling up your CT results.

“What are you talking about, Jack?” Your mouth instantly began to water as you were hit a wave of nausea. He turned the computer to face you, pulling up your imaging.

“Non displaced rib fracture of the left T6 and hairline fracture of your T7.” He pointed to each rib on the screen, as if it weren’t clear as day to you as well. Your hands tangled in your lap as you tried to come up with some sort of explanation. “Or did your nephew do that too?” Your eyes shot up at his sarcastic remark. Jack regretted those words the second they left his lips. Looking down at his shoes, he inched his way towards the edge of the bed where you were sitting, hands in his scrub pockets.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, putting his hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. You winced slightly as he hit a particularly tender spot and his face fell. "Whats wrong with your shoulder?"

"I'm fine." you just shook your head, fiddling with your engagement ring like you were unintentionally trying to tell him something. He took a seat next to you, looking down at the floor.

"How long has he been hurting you." he finally asked, nervously rubbing the scruff on his face, trying to calm the pit in his stomach. You shook your head again and stood, turning towards the door. He grabbed your hand, stopping you from leaving, unknowingly tracing his thumb back and forth on the back of your hand. Avoiding his gaze, you struggled to hold back the tears that were burning your eyes. You felt a gentle tug on your arm, Jack pulling you closer to him, grabbing on to your other free hand.

There was so much you wanted to say, so much you wanted to tell him. About all the nights you spent locked in the bathroom, hiding from your fiancés hurling words and fists. About the bruises that covered your body. About the control. The isolation. The terror.

"I dont know." was all you could muster, however. You felt his body stiffen, his grip tighten on your wrists. A sob caught in your chest, the lump growing larger and larger in your throat. You couldn’t look up, you couldn’t face him, though you felt his hazel eyes burning into your flesh. Before you either of you could speak again, you were saved by a trauma.

It wasn’t until hours later, as the Pittsburgh sun because to poke out from under the horizon, did you hear the door creak and the sound of his uneven gate coming up behind you. Without a word, he handed you your usual, a cup of vanilla chai tea. The both of you would meet up here on occasion, after a particularly tough shift, just to talk. It was a chilly morning, the tip of your nose rosy as another cold Pittsburgh fall and winter began to creep in. You caught chill as the wind whipped through the buildings beside you. As you shivered, Jack instinctively stepped towards you, letting his radiating body heat warm yours.

“It wasn’t always this bad,” you finally admitted. “The first time he hit me… he said he’d never do it again. I was stupid enough to believe him. But then his drinking got worse and, you get the rest of the story.” You motion to your face, the cold air stinging your eyes. He stared at you without a word, you could tell he was thinking. You saw the gears moving in his head. Jack Abbot, thinking? That was never good sign.

“You drive or take The T?” He asked, pushing off the railing.

“The T…?” You were confused as he started walking toward the door, motioning you to follow suit. “Grab your stuff, I’ll take you home.” “Jack, that’s kind of you, but if Charlie saw some strange man dropping me o-“

“I know,” Jack cut you off, “I’m taking you to my place.”

[cheftsunoda]

my boyfriend’s pretty cool but he’s not as cool as me

smau

oscar piastri x !dancer reader

lando norris x best friend reader

in which lando’s childhood best friend is one of the most well known dancer’s/choreographer’s in the world— she has choreographed tours for beyonce, kendrick lamar, sza—etc— when she comes to visit lando in the paddock during a tour break—a certain teammate catches her eye—it leaves the internet and lando baffled on how he managed to pull her.

—

hello guys— I am busy working on secrets rn but I had this in my drafts and figured I’d give you guys something while you wait. requests are always open pookies 💋

—

fc : pamela hughes

—

yourusername

gnx tour 📍

liked by lando, lewishamilton, kendricklamar & 4,324,396 others.

yourusername : gnx tourrrr mamassss!! massive thank you to kenny and solana for giving me the opportunity to not only dance on this tour but to choreograph a huge majority of it — I love you both and you both have been such a huge inspiration to me <3 this has been one of the best opportunities of my life and i am so grateful every single day.

lando : bub!!!! this is so huge! so so proud of you

liked by author

yourusername : love you lan!! see you soon 💋

liked by lando

username: omgomg yn paddock appearance??

liked by author and lando

username2 : are her and lando dating??

username : they are childhood besties

lewishamilton : Absolutely incredible. Love to see it 🖤

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yourusername : thank you lewis!! so excited to see you

liked by lewishamilton

sza : love you and your beautiful soul sooooo much🦋 you are such an incredible talent and i wouldn’t want anyone else to do the job

liked by author

yourusername : love you forever and ever — the most special angel 🐞

kikagomes : i have been DYING to see you again— come to alpine?🥹

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alpinef1team : pleaseeeeee

liked by author

mclaren : she stays with us.

yourusername : you guys can share me,, i want to see my keeks😻

liked by kikagomes

alexandrasaintmleux : sooooo proud of you! cant wait to see you mon ange

liked by author

yourusername : my heartttt ily

kendricklamar : The best in the business. All the love for you.

liked by author

yourusername : the GOAT. thank you for believing in me.

username : when you get back from tour will you start master classes again???

liked by author

yourusername : absolutely! so excited to teach again!

oscarpiastri : Excited to meet you, finally. Big fan of your work.

liked by author

yourusername : same to you oscar! seems you’re having a stellar season so far😎

liked by oscarpiastri

lando : osc trying to be sly 😁

oscarpiastri : leave lando

—

lando added a post to his story!

seen by mclaren, oscarpiastri , charles_leclerc & 2,368,296 others.

charles_leclerc : alex said to tell you to hurry up and hand her over

lando : bro all she is talking about is your girlfriend it’s like she didn’t even miss me — driving her over now 😔

charles_leclerc : yay my wife 😚😚💋💋 - alex

oscarpiastri : She’ll be in the paddock tomorrow?

lando : yes lover boy she will

oscarpiastri: Shut up, Lando. I’m just preparing myself to meet the girl version of you.

lando : sureeeee😁

—

The air was thick with salt and heat—Miami’s signature cocktail. Palm trees leaned toward the track like eager fans, and the bass of engines vibrated beneath the soles of my sneakers as I stepped out of the black car. The paddock swarmed with movement: crew members, journalists, influencers dressed like it was fashion week, and the ever-present scent of gasoline and competition.

I kept my hood up—not because I needed to hide, but because it felt surreal being here, back in his world. Tour life had been nonstop: Tokyo, Berlin, São Paulo. Sold-out shows. Headlines. Backstage chaos. But I hadn’t seen Lando in person in almost a year. Not since that night we sat on the rooftop in Monaco, passing a bag of chips and talking about everything except our careers.

Now I was here, finally. And I was nervous. Which was ridiculous. He was Lando. My best friend since we were seven. The one who dared me to audition for my first dance academy. The one who called me right before my first solo show, whispering “You’ve got this,” like it was a promise.

A buzz passed through the paddock crowd. I looked up.

There he was.

Walking straight toward me with that grin—lazy, lopsided, utterly him. His race suit tied around his waist, curls messy, eyes sharp behind the sunglasses he pulled off the second he saw me.

“You actually came.”

His voice broke through the noise, and in that moment, the engines, the cameras, the heat—it all melted away.

“You think I’d miss you racing in Miami?” I dropped my bag just in time for him to scoop me into a hug that lifted me off the ground.

“You’re heavier than you used to be,” he joked, squeezing me tighter.

“I’m stronger than I used to be,” I fired back, laughing.

He set me down but didn’t let go. “God, I missed you.”

I pulled back enough to see his face—flushed, sun-kissed, and that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. “You look good,” I said.

“So do you. Better, actually. Must be that stage lighting.” He poked my shoulder. “Or maybe all those standing ovations.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’ve been watching the shows?”

“Every one I could— bits and pieces on tik tok. You kill every performance. Kendrick’s lucky to have you.” He paused, then added more quietly, “But I’m luckier.”

A silence hung between us, not awkward, but heavy with years of shared history. All the missed birthdays, the FaceTimes from hotel rooms, the stupid memes sent at 2 a.m. We’d grown up and grown famous—but we’d never grown apart.

“You look like you’re in your element,” I said, gesturing toward the chaos of the paddock.

“I am. But,” he tilted his head, “it’s better now.”

“Because of me?”

“Because you’re here,” he said, like it was obvious. “You always show up when it counts.”

He slung an arm around my shoulders. “Come on. I want to show you the garage—and maybe steal you for the driver’s parade tomorrow. You know, if you’re not busy headlining the world.”

I nudged him with my elbow. “Lead the way, Norris.”

And as we walked deeper into the paddock, the sound of engines roared louder—but nothing drowned out the quiet, steady rhythm of coming home.

—

The McLaren garage was a different kind of chaos. Engineers speaking in quick bursts. Monitors flickering with data that looked like hieroglyphs to me. The hum of focus in the air—pure, precise.

Lando led the way, his voice cutting through the noise as he introduced me to the crew like I was royalty. “She’s family,” he kept saying, and they all nodded like they already knew. Maybe they did. Cameras followed us, but I was used to that. It was the vibe in here that threw me—intense, but somehow… inviting.

And then he walked in.

Helmet tucked under his arm, race suit half-zipped. Brown hair slightly tousled, brows knit in thought until he glanced up—and saw me.

Oscar Piastri.

I knew the name, of course. Rookie no more. Calm, clinical, fast as hell. Lando had talked about him in that complicated way he talks about people he respects but also wants to beat. But he hadn’t mentioned that Oscar was… cute. Unfairly cute. And tall. And had dimples, which—honestly—should be illegal.

Lando grinned wider, catching the pause. “Oscar! Come meet the real star of the weekend.”

Oscar looked between us, a little cautious, like he wasn’t sure if he was about to be pranked. “There she is,” he said with a smile, offering a hand. “Lando has told me so much about you.”

I blinked at him, then laughed. “And Lando told me you are ‘weirdly good at not talking.’”

He smirked—dimples on full display. “That sounds accurate.”

Our handshake lingered. Just long enough for both of us to realize it. Then we dropped hands quickly, both pretending not to notice.

“I saw the Brazil show,” Oscar said. “It was… unreal.”

“You watched it?” I tilted my head, a little surprised.

“Lando made me. Then I watched the rest on my own.” He shrugged, trying to look casual. Failing slightly. “You move like you’re not even human.”

“Neither do you,” I said before I could stop myself.

His eyes flicked up to mine—surprised. A slow smile. “Touché.”

I was suddenly very aware of how close we were standing. Of how good he smelled—something clean and sharp, like adrenaline and fresh laundry. I crossed my arms, needing to do something with them.

Lando narrowed his eyes like he was watching a tennis match. “Am I interrupting something here, or…?”

Oscar stepped back half a step. I did too. Guilty.

“Not at all,” I said, way too fast.

“Definitely not,” Oscar echoed.

Lando raised an eyebrow. “Right. Okay. I’m gonna go check tire data. You two—try not to combust or whatever that was.”

He walked off, muttering something about “chemistry I did not authorize,” and I turned back to Oscar, trying not to smile too hard.

“So,” I said, shifting on my feet. “Is this where you pretend to be mysterious and brooding, or are you gonna show me what a car looks like up close?”

Oscar grinned. “Depends. Are you impressed by carbon fiber and too many buttons?”

I smirked. “Try me.”

He led me toward the car, gesturing like a tour guide. I followed, but my heart was beating faster than it should’ve been for a garage tour. There was something about the way he moved—confident but careful. Like he was always thinking two steps ahead.

“You know,” he said over his shoulder, “Lando said you were off-limits.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did he now?”

Oscar glanced back, and his smile was downright dangerous. ���Yeah. I’m terrible at listening.”

—

The party was still going—somewhere behind the hospitality suites, i could hear the bass thumping, people shouting, champagne spraying. But Oscar wasn’t there.

I found him behind the McLaren garage, sitting on the edge of a stacked tire rack, still in his fireproofs, hair damp, champagne-stained suit unzipped to the waist. The golden Miami sunset lit the side of his face, casting long shadows behind him. The world was buzzing around him, but he looked like he’d stepped out of it completely.

“You’re hiding,” I said softly, stepping into his little pocket of silence.

He looked up—eyes tired, chest still rising a little too fast—and when he saw me, he didn’t smile right away. Just exhaled like i was the thing he didn’t realize he needed.

“I needed a second,” he said. “Before the noise catches up to me again.”

I walked over and stood between his knees, my hand brushing his. “Oscar, you won.”

He blinked slowly, then nodded. “Yeah.”

“But you don’t look happy.”

He looked down at his gloves in his lap, twisting one between his fingers. “I am. I just… I don’t know. You dream of a moment like this, and then it happens, and it feels—” He stopped himself. “It’s a lot.”

I didn’t speak. Just reached for his jaw gently, tilting his face back to mine.

“You don’t have to be anything right now,” I said. “Not the golden boy. Not the winner. Just… you.”

That broke something open in him. His shoulders dropped. His hand came up and slid behind my waist, pulling me in closer.

“You were the only person I wanted to see after the podium,” he murmured.

I smiled softly. “Took you long enough.”

“I didn’t want to see you like… this,” he admitted. “All sweaty and gross.”

I leaned in, forehead resting gently against his. “You just won a Grand Prix. You’re allowed to be gross.”

He laughed quietly, then stilled. “You being here—it made it feel different. Better.”

I let my fingers thread through his hair. “You made it feel real. And watching you today… I think I stopped breathing for a few laps.”

He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, his voice low. “I wanted to kiss you the second I laid eyes on you.”

I tilted my head, pulse skipping. “What’s stopping you now?”

He didn’t answer.

He just kissed me—soft and certain.

And for once, the chaos could wait.

—

yourusername

miami 📍

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux & 4,427,268 others.

yourusername : miami you were a slay — so proud of my little orange minions on a 1-2 — congrats boys 💋

lando : i am so hurt by the hat. take it off NEOWW.

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yourusername : ur so overdramatic #sassymanapocalypse

yourusername : and oscar gave me that one so he could put on his podium cap…you could’ve given me yours if you wanted

lando : i just think you should support your best friend sorry if that makes me sassy

username : bro she was just wearing quadrant merch at her last rehearsal

username2: and she was wearing an ln4 hoodie in the airport

yourusername : ^^tea

lando : okay im sorry im sorry i dont think before I behave

oscarpiastri : we know.

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oscarpiastri : Who knew you’d end up being my good luck charm?

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yourusername : you don’t need luck when you’re already insanely talented ;)

liked by oscarpiastri

username5 : is mr. ‘no words’ piastri flirting with her?

lando : i hope not 🤮

username10 : you look SO GOOD. eat them up pretty

kikagomes : i love you so much !! pierre and I can’t wait to come to the next show:)

liked by author and pierregasly

yourusername : love you keeks 🤩

sza : hurry up and get back to us babes!! one show without you was enough

liked by author

yourusername : omw mamas

—

f1gossipgirls posted!

26,378 likes

f1gossipgirls : Pierre Gasly, Charles Leclerc, Alexandra Saint Mleux, Kika Gomes, Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri all attended the Grand National tour this evening which is fully choreographed by Lando’s Best Friend, Y/N L/N. She is also in the show!

username : oh Oscar is so down bad

username2 : that man never ever goes to public events like this

username5 : let alone looking as happy as he does now

username10 : guys he is just supporting Lando’s friend cmonnnn

username2 : unlikely^^

username12 : it’s so cute how much the grid supports her

liked by author

username8 : I heard lewis was there too

username7 : he was!!

—

oscarpiastri posted to his story!

seen by yourusername, lando, hattiepiastri & 2,367,533 others.

{caption 1 : good shots, mate. @/lando.jpg} {caption 2 : yourusername, you are insanely talented— i am blown away by you}

yourusername : thank you sm for coming osc— the pre show kiss really helped

oscarpiastri : anything for you, princess. love watching you do what you love

hattiepiastri : so jealous. you don’t deserve to be in the presence of yn or sza. especially sza

oscarpiastri : jealousy is a disease hattie

—

oscarpiastri

liked by hattiepiastri, lando, yourusername & 1,257,543 others.

oscarpiastri: Life’s pretty good.

username : this man is attempting to soft launch and all he says is “life’s pretty good” 😭

oscarpiastri: it’s a “soft” launch for a reason

username5 : i love sassy osc

hattiepiastri : im tagging mum

oscarpiastri : stop being a snitch

hattiepiastri : @/nicolepiastri

oscarpiastri : fuck

nicolepiastri : oscar give me a call right now please

lando : oscy boy is in loveeeee

username : with your best friend bro bro

lando : what r u talking about that isn’t yn

username2 : lando is so so oblivious sometimes

aussiegrit : 😉

username5 : MARK WHAT DO YOU KNOW

aussiegrit : Oscar never shares about his love life and he finally did and I am not gonna make him regret it. My lips are sealed.

nicolepiastri : Mark call me

aussiegrit : Dialing right now

username : AHSJWN^^

oscarpiastri : never again

—

yourusername

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux & 4,267,255 others.

yourusername : fun stuff

lando : wait a minute

yourusername : what hoe

lando : who r u even dating

lando : why haven’t we discussed this

yourusename : you’ve never asked pookie

lando : answer my facetime

alexandrasaintmleux: you are so stunning it’s unreal

liked by author

yourusername : that’s all you angel

username : the caption is so oscar coded could they be anymore obvious

sza : oh my gooddd ur so beautiful

liked by author

yourusename : says you omg 😭

—

F1gossipgirls

245,267 likes

f1gossipgirls : Oscar Piastri and Y/N L/N were seen together in Australia…getting rather cozy with each other

username : I did not need this to confirm what I already knew

username2 : they r so cute together

lando : huh

username : LANDO-

username7 : baby we all knew we tried to tell you

—

yourusename

liked by oscarpiastri, lando, nicolepiastri & 5,254,208 others.

yourusername : my boyfriend is pretty cool

(our child lando is still adjusting, be kind)

oscarpiastri: not as cool as you pretty girl

liked by author

yourusername : mymanmymanmyman i love u sm

liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri : love you too sweetheart

lando : as betrayed and disgusted as I am— you guys are cute ig

liked by author and oscarpiastri

yourusername : lan honey the internet literally tried to tell you 100 times

lando : when I get told something I don’t want to hear I act like it never happened

oscarpiastri : a literal toddler

lando : you both will never escape me 😁

sza : so happy for you queen!

liked by author

nicolepiastri : convinced you made my son 100 times cooler

liked by author

hattiepiastri : agreed

liked by author

oscarpiastri : gee thanks

liked by author

yourusername : love you both !! pilates next week nicole??

nicolepiastri : Absolutely!

username : Oscar are you nervous for your mom and girlfriend to hang out without you?

oscarpiastri : not really, they already gossip about me all the time.

liked by author and nicolepiastri

—

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, aussiegrit, lando & 2,264,432 others.

oscarpiastri : now I can kiss her in public all I want

lando : that is not what this means

liked by yourusername

oscarpiastri : please don’t start again

lando : I was the one who said off limits and you heard OH make her your girlfriend

oscarpiastri : yes I hear what I want

yourusername : bickering like an old couple

liked by author and lando

aussiegrit : oh good I couldn’t keep the secret anymore

oscarpiastri : you literally didn’t — you told my mum

aussiegrit : doesn’t count — she scared the information out of me

nicolepiastri: you act like I threatened you

aussiegrit : I wouldn’t say you didn’t

logansargeant : Happy for you guys!

liked by author and yourusername

yourusername : does this mean I can be thirsty for you on Twitter now?

liked by author

lando : NO

oscarpiastri : yep

—

tag list : @klauslovemepls , @omgsuperstarg , @msliz @samanthaofanarchy , @mayax2o07 , @goldenstrawberryx , @hannahmotors10 , @alireads27 , @1800-love-me , @htpssgavi @cmgmikealson , @babygirl-4986 , @star73807-blog , @glow-ish , @just-tingz-virgo , @majapapaya4 @lina505

[littlepuppers]

i really want to go camping. just a nice, solo camping trip to relax and have time to myself :)

I’d wake up and make breakfast, hike up to a different spot, start a fire and forage for a bit, draw or carve something, and setup camp for the night.

i have one pair of pjs with me and my sleeping bag for the night because i don’t have to worry about anyone judging what i wear or asking me for a spare blanket. So i packed just a pair of booty shorts and a smallish tank top. it’s just basic undergarments, nothing fancy, and i would be pretty embarrassed if anyone knew i wore these drabby clothes to sleep.

after i make a cup of sleepytime tea and wait for the fire to die out, i snuggle up in my sleeping bag. it’s a bit chillier tonight but i don’t have any other clothes to wear on top of this since i only brought my pjs and my stinky hiking clothes.

whatever. i drift off to sleep and dream of watching shooting stars falling around me, so pretty. as they crash onto the ground around me i feel the heat from them on my skin. it’s getting warmer, but i also really feel it on my cheeks. like i’m flushed or blushing. i watch the stars spark into flames and die out into embers.

animals start to surround me. deer, rabbits, foxes, and coyotes. they all come up around me and start sniffing my face and body. they start licking my face and neck, i giggle trying to push them away, it tickles. one of the coyotes that’s licking my stomach starts traveling down toward the hem of my shorts. woahhh haha, watch out buddy, i tell him.

Obviously not understanding english, he nudges his snout under the hem and takes a lick on my parts. i push his head away harshly and sit up. Immediately im pushed back down by the other animals and a huge buck comes and steps on my hair and arms so i can’t move.

i know this is a dream but how am i not waking up already???

a rabbit comes and starts pulling my shorts down, the coyote comes back and nudges his snout between my legs, i scream and try to close them but he turns and bites one. fuck, that felt real.

He goes back and starts licking, hesitant at first, just seeing how it tastes i guess. since foraging and meal prepping the smart and healthy way, ive only packed like fruit and stuff so obviously it probably tastes like really fucking good. at least that’s all i can assume from him diving in, licking deeper and deeper. fuck her tongue is fucking huge. it goes in and out fluidly. the slick sounds filling the air along with my whimpers and the other animals breathing and chirping and whining.

i feel it building up in my tummy, something molten. fuck, this is the weirdest wet dream i’ve ever had.

all of the sudden, his tongue dives insanely deep and curls into one of my spots. I wake up with a gasp and shaking through an orgasm. letting out a loud screaming moan, my eyes shoot open as i feel it curl inside me again.

WHAT THE FUCK

a tall dark figure is above me, my sleeping bag is unzipped and this persons hand is between my legs, his fingers curl inside me again. i scream, grabbing his arm and trying to push him away and get his fingers out. he plunges them deeper and uses his other hand to wrap around my neck and push it to the ground, holding it there.

i try to scream but can’t with my minimal airway, so i struggle and whimper, squeezing and trying to tear his arm away from my neck but it won’t budge. his fingers are still thrusting in and out of me, sometimes slowing down to explore and prod at my spots. i really cant help but shiver from the stimulation and orgasm from earlier. but who the fuck is the guy and how did he get in here and find me?!?

he finally speaks, moving his fingers to slip out a bit. “you weren’t this wet the whole time darlin’, my friend had to help you out to start, could barely get him off’a you. but i can’t blame him…” the dark figure takes his fingers out slowly with a shhlickkk sound, putting them up to his mouth, “…because you sure do taste fucking heavenly.” he leans to the side so i can see behind him something moves, a fucking dog. what the fuck. i thrash and whimper. “don’t fucking move. he bit you once, he’ll do it again.” I freeze, the bite, the dream, fuck it was all real.

the dog starts whining and tries to come up to me but the man pushes him back. he pushes his fingers back into me and starts moving them again, fuck i’m so overstimulated it almost hurts. “fuck, he’s eager. do u mind if he goes for a second course?” “fuck you,” i strain out. he opens my legs barely and the dog jumps over me sniffing and licking as deep inside as he was in the dream. fuckkk this is horrible i could get a disease or something, he needs to stop licking at my fucking spots it’s really too much.

the pressure starts building again. oh no, no no no no. please god i can fucking cum on a dogs tongue. opposing to my thoughts, my body gets closer and closer and- he stops. i freeze and tears start flowing from my eyes. from relief his contact from me is gone and because my body is so worn out now.

SHITT, something scrapes at my hips, the dogs paws, what the fuck is going on?? “sorry darling, he needs a little help, do you mind?” the man takes the pillow out from under my head and harshly lifts my hips, placing it underneath. he takes his hand off my throat finally, i gasp for air and can barely speak through my damaged vocal chords, “fuck you asshole.” “uhh yeahhhh i won’t, but he’s about to.” he nudges the dog forward. the man stuffs my shorts into my mouth so i can’t scream. how the fuck is this happening.

the dog immediately scratches at my hips again and starts rutting his hips toward me. FUCK NO. i thrash around but feel something poke my neck. it’s the man holding my wood carving knife i. his hand against my neck. “move, and I’ll fucking slit your throat.” tear start flowing from my eyes. how did i ever get in this position. i feel something scortching start to poke at my entrance, fuck please no please please please no…

the dog edges toward me more and suddenly plowing himself so deep inside me, how the fuck did i think doggy dicks were small??? this feels fucking huge, it fucking hurts. he’s thrusting in and out and an inhumane pace. his huge red doggy part pushes every single one of my spots and i can’t think anymore, i can’t even move. it’s like he’s going through me i can almost feel it in my stomach. he starts growling and i feel it get bigger. no way, this dog is not gonna knot me. please god. he can’t fit it in thank god.

“aw cmon buster, you can do better than that,” the mysterious man says before pushing the dogs backside against me and i feel it force inside me FUCK.

fuck that’s huge, i can’t fucking move because i think im gonna break. help please someone help me god…

i feel it. the flooding of molten liquid filling me. all i can do is whine through this soaked through fabric. i’m such an idiot for getting myself in this stupid situation, for not bringing a gun, im so stupid. there’s nothing i can do now except stay still while this dogs huge knot presses on my spot and his cum dumps into my cervix. i feel it dripping out. all over my sleeping bag and the floor of the tent. “how’d that feel hun? seems buster loved it, did you?” he takes his finger and wipes from the base of the dogs cock, bringing the liquid up to my mouth and smearing it all over my lips. i feel it leak down into my mouth and i’m utterly repulsed.

the dog breaks away with a POP and my legs and hips and whole body goes lax. the man chuckles and puts his hand down there again. oh no please don’t, and he doesn’t. instead, he scoops up the dogs cum and pushes it back into me. “good girl keep it in ok? the scent of it will help him track you down again.” i groan weakly and my vision begins to go blurry. the last thing i see is him throwing a stick outside the tent and the stupid dog running off after it to fetch.

fuck camping.

[rafessecret]

hi! i love ur writing and was wondering if you could write for rafe and basically reader is hanging at barry’s trailer high off m0lly and really needy and begging barry to help her out (fuck her) and he tells her to chill and soon rafe comes by to get his drugs and sees reader on the couch wiggling all around and and barry tells rafe what’s up with her and tells him to figure out because he has to go do a delivery for his customers and while barry leaves rafe fucks reader on barry’s bed/couch until she’s satisfied.

⋆˚࿔ trailer¡park reader && rafe cameron

I'M DESPERATE.

Stretched out on Barry’s couch, your skin is shimmering, dewy with sweat, every nerve lit up like you’ve been kissed by stars. The molly hits you in waves—sweet and dizzying. Your heart races. Your pupils are blown, so wide the whites barely show, and everything is so soft, so good, too much. The thin fabric of your tank clings to your chest, nipples peaked and visible. Your thighs rub together in search of friction, hips twitching like they have a mind of their own. You giggle, breathless and high, burying your face in a scratchy throw pillow that smells like weed and boy. ❝Please,❞ you whimper, voice coated in sugar and desperation. ❝Barry, I need it.❞

He just leans back in a folding chair, lighting a joint with lazy fingers. He doesn’t even look at you. ❝Fuckin’ hell, sugar, chill out. You’re all wound up. I got deliveries.❞ But that only makes you more desperate. You shift on the couch, thighs rubbing together, slick and twitchy. Your tank is riding up, your panties damp and clinging. You whine louder, hips canting up against the air. ❝Barry, please—I’ve been good, haven’t I? Just need it so bad. Can’t stop squirming.❞

You crawl toward him, eyes wide and glossy, lip trembling. You reach for his thigh, nuzzling close, fingers trembling. ❝It hurts, Barry. I’m so wet it’s dripping. Just want to feel full. Just need you to touch me.❞ He groans, cock twitching under his jeans, but he keeps smoking, keeps teasing. ❝Look at you. Fucking’ mess. Begging like that—sweet little voice all shaky.❞ He finally looks down, smirking. ❝You’re going to drive me crazy. But I really have to go.❞

❝No!❞ You cry, crawling up into his lap, your breath hitching. ❝Please, Barry—I’ll be so good, I promise. I’ll ride you nice and let you cum wherever you want. Don’t leave me like this; I’m aching.❞ He chuckles, pulling your hands off his belt. ❝Cute. Fuckin’ greedy little thing. But you have to wait. Rafe’s swinging’ by—maybe he’ll deal with you.❞ Right then, the trailer door swings open with a creak. Rafe steps inside, low-browed and sun-warmed, jaw already tight. He's just here for a drop—but then he sees you. He sees the gloss smeared on your lips, your cheeks flushed, mascara smudged down your face like war paint. Sees you grinding down on the pillow, trying to get yourself off like a fucked-up little kitten in heat. Your mouth’s parted, panting like you’ve been chasing relief for hours.

Barry chuckles, nodding toward you. ❝She’s rollin’ hard. Been begging’ me to fuck her for half an hour. Keeps playing’ with her tits, can’t sit still.❞ Your eyes meet Rafe’s. Blurry, sparkly, helpless. ❝Rafe… please.❞ Barry claps him on the back on the way out. ❝She’s all yours, man. Figure her out. I have to drop off. Lock up when you’re done.❞ The trailer door slams behind him. Silence. Rafe moves slowly. Crosses the space between you in a few long strides. You don’t even realise you’re whining until his shadow blocks out the ceiling light. ❝You look like you’re about to lose it, sweetheart.❞

You nod frantically, mouth trembling. ❝Need to cum so bad. Been aching. Hurts.❞ He slaps you across the face—not too hard, but enough to make you gasp. Enough to spark more heat under your skin. Then he grabs you by the wrist and drags you into Barry’s room. The mattress smells like smoke and sex, the covers tangled. He tosses you down onto them like you weigh nothing. Rafe groans low when he sees your panties—thin and soaked, clinging to your pussy like second skin. Your legs are already spread, toes curling into the sheets.

He presses a kiss to your forehead. Soft. Gentle. For one second. Then he pulls back, lips wet, smirk cruel. His fingers trail down between your thighs, slow and torturous. They brush along your folds, slick and twitching, teasing your clit without pressing in. Just the edges of sensation, light and fluttering, and it drives you crazy. You sob. Hips rock up—he pins them down with one strong hand. ❝Stop that,❞ he snaps. ❝You want it? Ask pretty.❞ You reach for his wrist, trying to drag him lower, guide him where you need it, but he just shakes his head. Laughs. He taps your clit once. Just once. You wail.

Your whole body’s on fire, trembling. You could cry. Maybe you are. He slides two fingers in, just barely. You whine, eyes rolling, trying to grind down. ❝Not enough. Rafe, please. Need your cock. It’s not big enough. I need it—please.❞ That does it. His expression twists—dangerous, sharp, and so fucking dark it sends heat straight to your core. He yanks his fingers free, your slick clinging to them, and flips you onto your stomach so fast your cheek smacks the pillow. You barely have time to gasp before he’s got your hips hauled up, back arched, panties dragged down to your knees like an afterthought. ❝Not big enough?❞ he growls, voice thick with hunger.

Then he fucks you. A brutal, toe-curling thrust that knocks every ounce of air out of your lungs. You scream into the mattress, drooling, clenching down hard around him. His cock is massive—veiny, throbbing, and hot—stretching you until your pussy flutters around him helplessly. You feel it in your ribs, in your belly, and in your throat. He pounds into your gummy spot with precision, his length bottoming out with every cruel, hungry push.

Your legs tremble violently. You’re soaked, dizzy, high and overstimulated, pleasure bleeding into pain and back again. Your walls tighten like a vice around him, clutching at his cock with every punishing stroke. ❝Fuck,❞ Rafe snarls, yanking your hair and forcing your face deeper into the sheets. ❝Listen to you. Whimpering like a bitch in heat. So fucking’ needy.❞ He’s relentless—hips snapping against your ass, one hand on your spine to keep you pinned down while the other fists your hair. You’re choking on your own moans, your brain pure static.

❝Feels like heaven, doesn’t it?❞ He pants, voice rough, forehead damp with sweat as he presses his weight down on you. ❝Your tight little pussy fluttering on my cock—fucking’ perfect.❞ You nod, sobbing through it, jaw slack. ❝S’big,❞ you slur, tongue heavy. ❝So big, Rafe—feels so good—❞ He grunts, angling deeper, the thick head of his cock grinding into your favourite spot until your toes curl and you go silent, lips parting around a breathless whimper. He can feel the way your cunt pulses around him, your climax building with helpless urgency. ❝There it is. ‘That’s your spot, huh?’ he breathes. ❝Takin’ me so fuckin’ well. That’s it, baby—cum for me.❞

You do. Loud and wrecked, your pussy clenching down hard around him, thighs twitching. Your orgasm hits like a train—white-hot, messy, leaving your brain completely numb. And Rafe’s not done. He fucks you through it, harder, faster, chasing his own high. The sound of skin slapping, wet and raw, fills the room. His cock throbs inside you, thick and soaked with your slick, the head dragging through your fluttering walls. ❝Gonna fill you up,❞ he snarls. ❝You want that, don’t you? Want my cum all the way inside?❞

You nod frantically, high off it, slurring something close to ❝please❞ into the pillow. He cums deep inside you, cock jerking, pulsing hard, hot spurts painting your walls. You choke on a sob, whimpering as the warmth floods you. Rafe stays deep, gritting his teeth, hips grinding through the last waves of release. He collapses over you, mouth at your ear.

❝Next time,❞ he breathes, voice gravel. ❝Don’t beg, Barry. Beg me.❞

── ⋆ 𝐲𝐚𝐩 : umm yum thank you anon, you get itttt + um yess I know this is the same ask and the same concept and yes me and them have already spoke about it!! they’re completely fine with it and have actually read this already and said it’s totally okay for me to post. we got the ask around the same time and luckily I noticed before posting that we’d both received it, so no worries at all angels

── ⋆ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 : @scne-vampire @browniepop62 @urcoolgf

©RAFESSECRET ⋆˚࿔ est. 2025

[evie-sturns]

yapper - Chris Sturniolo

summary: you talk, a lot. chris finally has enough of your voice and puts his hand over your mouth, little did you both know that this would let to a lot more than expected.

contains: smut, fluff, shy!chris, yapper!reader, risky sex.

---------------------------✩------------------------------

9:28pm

"okay- but guess what happened next! she literally took off runnings, like- i mean i know she was embarrased but running away is just gonna make an even bigger fool of yourself right?" i ramble on and on, and on... and on.

"but-" i start, cutting myself off with a gasp, "i forgot to tell you oh my god! okay so you know that one girl who i used to work with, wait whats her name?"

chris suddenly speaks up, "baby," he sighs, his voice has a twinge of frustration in it, which doesnt suprise me.

ive been speaking his ear off this whole hang out, but its not my fault that i just have so much to tell chris.

i stay silent for about 3 seconds before instantly starting up again,

"jen-! that was her name, okay so basically i found out that her and her boyfriend are in like this massive fight right now because she fucki-"

chris cuts me off,

his hand clasps over my mouth, which shut me up pretty fast.

i stare at him with my round eyes, his hand still firmly plastered over my lips.

he clears his throat, breaking eye contact quickly.

i slowly reach up, grabbing his wrist and trying to gently lift his hand away.

he keeps it there though, his gaze drifitng back over to me.

chris's eyes are fluttering shut everytime he blinks, his cheeks burning red as the silence in the room grows, its nice for a change though.

i open my mouth to try protest, but my voice is muffled by his palm. "mmf- chris just-" i start,

he shakes his head, "all you do- is just talk y/n! oh my fucking god."

a grin spreads across my face, which chris seems to take note off.

suddenly he sits up right, grabbing my shoulder with his free hand.

he gently lays me down on the couch, his hand still plastered over my lips.

he then hovers over me, staring down into my eyes.

i feel heat pool in my lower abdomen, goosebumps travelling up my arms as the eye contact with chris grows stronger.

he gently removes his hand away from me, his face inches from mine.

he it between my legs, his torso millimeters above mine and his hair tickling my forehead.

“not.. another word.” he whispers,

i nod slightly,

he brushes his lips against mine, our noses brushing.

suddenly his lips connect with mine, my chest instantly tightens as i grab at him,

he inches my legs further apart with his knee, which shortly after brushes against my clothed cunt.

i let out a needy whine against his lips, causing him to pull away,

“shh sh.” he shushes me, his hands on either side of my head.

“i wan’ you..” i whisper,

chris’s cheeks flush red, his eyes darting away for a second,

“yeah?” he mutters, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he blinks a few times.

i nod, “i- i really do.”

i sit up on my elbows before reaching for his belt buckle,

he doesn’t say anything, just letting me.

i unbuckle his belt, a soft thump fills the room as it drops onto the couch.

i tug down his jeans, and he helps me discard them to the side.

his hands rest on my knees,

he suddenly speaks up, “i- i mean- we really can’t.. matt and nick are home and nick has a friend over it’s- it’s so risky..”

i frown slightly, “but- please! that’s not fair!”

he shakes his head, letting it tip back.

“i’ll be really.. really quiet i swear.” i whisper,

“i doubt that..” he scoffs,

“cant we just go to your room?” i groan,

he shakes his head, “nick will be right next door, he’ll hear stuff..”

i look up at him through big wide eyes, toying with the waistband of his boxers,

“i’ll be so good and quiet..” i breathe,

“fine- fine okay- just- god..” he mumbles,

he reaches for my waistband and tugs my small shorts off, before pulling at my panties.

he practically tears my tank top off, leaving me fully revealed.

“we have to be quick though.” chris mutters, pulling his shirt off over his head, leaving him only in his black boxers.

i nod with a smile,

he palms himself through his boxers as he hunched over, clearly overwhelmingly horny.

i tug down his boxers, the cold air hits his tip, causing him to let out a shaking gasp.

“please..” i grin,

he nods, “you- be quiet.” he whispers, grabbing my hip and lining himself up with me.

my arousal coats his tip as he gently presses it in,

the stretch hurts so good, i let out a small moan.

he slowly presses more inside of me, my walls clamping around him at the size,

“fuck- chris-“ i moan out, completely forgetting the one rule he had for me,

he stares down at me, his movements stilling,

“i fucking told you, be quiet.” he grunts,

“i can’t..” i whine loudly, his thickness stretching me out.

he moves his hand, placing it right back over my mouth with a small tut.

he starts to thrust into me, making sure his strokes are deep each time.

i squeeze my eyes shut, my whole body feeling like it’s on fire,

my stomach tingles heavily, i purse my lips together, trying to stop my noises but it’s not working.

a moan rips out of me, muffled by chris’s palm.

“noisy girl, fuck..” chris groans, his pace rapidly picking up speed.

i wrap my legs around his waist as i frantically grip at his back, my nails sinking into his skin.

my moans get increasingly louder as i turn my head to the side, making chris hand on my mouth slip away.

“you just- you just can’t shut up can you?” he grumbles, his voice trembling as he gets closer,

“i- fuck!” i babble out,

suddenly, chris pulls out of me.

empty, is the only word to describe how i feel.

“chris no- please i was so close- please!”

he cuts me off, “sit up.”

i sit up on the couch, the dull ache between my thighs frustrating me.

he gets up on his knees, his cock right infront of my face.

i stare up at him frustratedly, folding my arms,

“since you won’t keep your mouth shut, gonna have to atleast put it to work hm?” he whispers,

i roll my eyes, my hole fluttering from loss of contact.

he reaches two fingers down and taps my cheek, “open.”

i part my lips,

“go on, use that damn mouth for good.” he mutters, his hand reaching round to my hair and twirling it into a makeshift pony.

“fuck you.” i mumble quietly, a small grin on my lips.

he gently presses his tip to my lips, i wrap my lips around it, tasting myself on him.

i let out small grunts as i take him further down my throat, my lower jaw already aching.

his tip kisses the back of my throat, making me squeeze my eyes shut.

“good, so good..” he groans,

he starts to move his hips, gently fucking my face.

i let him, keeping my lips firmly around him.

his pace quickens, the head of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of my throat.

small gagging noises fill the room as his pace gets even faster.

“oh fuck baby- oh god, gonna— gonna let me fill that pretty mouth up?” he rambles, his grip on my hair tightening,

i nod,

“that’s a good girl,” he whimpers with one final thrust of his hips,

spurts of white shoot down my throat, a smile growing on my face as i swallow it all,

he gently pulls out of my mouth, rubbing my cheek with his free hand.

he flops back onto the couch, his cheeks red and sweaty.

his hair sticks to his forehead from the dampness, he gently pulls me onto his lap.

“can you fuck me now chris, so mean of you to edge me like that.” i huff, rolling my eyes.

“why would i let you cum? you weren’t following instructions properly yeah?” he chuckles, earning a loud groan from me

i tip my head foward onto his shoulder

“my jaw hurts.” i groan,

“does that mean you’ll finally stop all the talking?” he grins,

“no— not at all actually- i still haven’t finished my story!”

-

taglist #1

@jayz4dayz4 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathando-64 esgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 9 9 @sturnthepot t t @zayyluvz z z @realuvrrr r r r @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall l l @raysmayhem-72 @sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour r @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnn n @sturnioloxlver r @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya a @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney y y @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry y @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees enxtrees @certifiednatelover r r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t t t t @yomamaslays4lyfe e @peachmelbaesunpostre @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 9 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc c c @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise e @sturni0l0tripletzz z 0 @ratatioulle  @sturnsforlife @mattsonly @justalittle47 7 @sunsetsturniolos s @downbad4reid  

[sincerelyneo]

could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐

mad at you | l.mk

“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”

💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we

❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.

❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader

❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex

❯ words: 4.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.

an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.

The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 

But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 

You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.

So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 

He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 

He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 

The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.

“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”

You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 

“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”

You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”

"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."

Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 

“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”

“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”

“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”

“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”

You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.

“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 

“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”

“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 

Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 

“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”

You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 

“Oh, so you want to break up?”

He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”

The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 

Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.

Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.

“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”

“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 

Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 

He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.

After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 

It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 

Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.

Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 

As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 

You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.

The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.

However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.

“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  

You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”

Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.

His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 

"I thought you left..."

Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.

“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 

You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 

He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”

His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 

"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."

Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."

"No—"

He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."

Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.

"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."

"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"

Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"

His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.

"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."

You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”

You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.

Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.

His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.

Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.

You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.

He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.

“‘s okay,” you whimper. 

Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.

He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 

He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 

And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 

“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”

You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 

“Mark…” 

“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 

You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.

And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.

As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 

You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 

He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 

Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 

The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.

You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 

You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 

Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.

Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.

And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 

You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 

So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...

“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”

You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.

“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”

And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 

And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 

The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 

You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 

You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.

"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.

"I’m sorry," you say softly.

You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."

[therealmylesmorales]

Don’t Take It Personal

Summary: you’re a little worried about how much time Vi is spending with her new friend

Part 2

Warnings: vi’s kind of a dumbass, ngl. Angst probably. R plays a sport for the plot (just vibe guys) loser!vi au

WC: 1.6k

Vi made a new friend.

That was a rare feat for her, seeing how out of the few people she considers a friend included you, her girlfriend, and Jinx, her sister.

She came home beaming after her usual workout at the gym. There was a new face she didn’t recognize and to Vi’s surprise, the friendly chat turned into a new friendship.

Her name was Caitlyn Kiramman. You knew her name, seeing the title “Kiramman” around a few buildings. Caitlyn was studying abroad for a few months, hence why Vi didn’t meet her until now. And yet, the new friendship was blossoming quickly. You didn’t mind, just happy that she managed to make more friends without you being present.

That was until Vi started hanging out with her more than you.

Srry, babe cant make it. At the gym wth Cait 💪🏻

11:23am

You frowned a bit at the recent text Vi sent you. You were at the library waiting for her for your weekly study date but when she was almost half an hour late you finally texted her. Only for your girlfriend to take a raincheck. Again.

Seeing how Vi wasn’t showing up, you still decided to stay for at least another hour; work still needed to be done with or without her. When you did decide to leave, you had to pass by the gym in order to go home. You figured Vi was still inside so you didn’t bother to linger until you heard a familiar voice.

”I’ll see you around, cupcake!”

Cupcake?

You turned to see Vi and Caitlyn leaving the large building. Vi immediately saw you and rushed over to you. Caitlyn gave you a polite wave before going her own way.

She was calling her ‘cupcake.’ You felt a little irritated at the—at your— nickname Vi called Caitlyn. Granted, ‘cupcake’ wasn’t one that was used very often, only when Vi was teasing or being purposely irritating to you. But still. It was your name.

Pushing the negative feelings aside you greeted Vi with a kiss. She smiled into it then pulled you into a tight hug, her arms almost crushing you.

”You stick, Vi,” you muttered into her neck.

A soft laugh escaped her. “You enjoy it. What are you doing here?”

”Going home. Then I saw you and…cupcake.”

”Don’t be like that,” Vi groaned, trying to play it off. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Never said you did.” You tried to change the subject, not wanting to make it a big deal. “Are you going to my game Friday or are you going to be too busy with Caitlyn. It’s the last one of the season, Vi.”

“Hey, have I ever missed a game before?” She asked rhetorically. ”But if it makes you feel better, I promise that I’ll be there.”

”Good.”

Vi then wrapped her arm around you, putting you in an almost headlock, and started walking in the direction of the same apartment. “Let’s go. I’m exhausted.”

While what Vi said did ease some of you worrying, it didn’t stay for long. For the rest of the week, Vi was still with Caitlyn. Even though you attended most of the same classes, and stayed in the same home, you only saw her in passing or for only an hour at night. And every word that came out of her mouth was about the other girl.

“I really think you’ll like Cait, she reminds me of you.”

“Caitlyn squatted 210 today! She’s catching up to me.”

”I’m sorry, baby. Cait and I made plans to see that movie. You can still come!” You hate to admit it but that comment made you pissed off more than anything.

Caitlyn, Caitlyn, Caitlyn. You haven’t even properly met the girl yet it seemed like you knew everything about her.

When Friday finally came, you just hoped Vi would pay more attention to you rather than her friend. Unfortunately, you were proven wrong.

Hey, pretty, the game is starting soon. Are you still coming?

6:37pm

Yoooo Viiii??

7:01pm

Violet, dude, where are you??

7:15pm

Your leg tapped nervously against the ground, scanning the crowd for the familiar pink haired girl, but you came up dry. In the crowd you could see Jayce, Viktor and Mel who all gave you encouraging smiles. Even Jinx showed up, sitting next to Ekko. She gave you a small shrug at your questioning glance before turning back to your phone, possibly texting her sister.

The coach got your attention, urging you to join your teammates on the court. And with a heavy, disappointed sigh, you got up from the bench. You couldn’t focus on Vi anymore, but you still hoped that she would show up sometime during the game. She did promise after all.

But throughout the game, that familiar full head of pink hair was nowhere to be seen. There was an empty spot next to Jinx that was never filled. Trying to ignore the wide open space was almost impossible, but the game was won without Vi cheering for you. Sure, the ball did slip from your hands more times than you’d like to admit, but your team won.

Your friends that did decide to show up wanted to take you out for the rest of the night, a congratulatory dinner, but you weren’t feeling it. And while Jinx doesn’t like saying the word no, she surprisingly let you go home after you refused. You really just wanted to see if or when Vi would be home.

It was nearing nine at night and Vi still hadn’t called you and your recent text went unanswered. The TV was playing a show, mostly used as background noise as your thoughts took over you.

Almost thirty minutes later, you could hear some noise coming from the hallway.

The door to the apartment opened and you could hear Vi humming a song to herself when she locked up for the night. From your spot on the couch, you saw nothing wrong with her so you were glad to know she was safe. But now she had to dig herself out of the hole she dug.

Vi actually seemed surprised to see you but the smile she gave you was instant. “Oh, hey, babe. Why are you still up?”

”Waiting for you,” you shot back, moving to get closer to her. “It’s been hours Vi, we all have been calling and texting you—“

Vi showed you her phone, a black screen staring back at you. “It died a while ago. What’s with the third degree?”

”Do you remember what day it is?”

”Um…the tenth?”

”Um, maybe it’s the day of my game that you’d promise to come to,” you mocked. Yeah, you were being petty but you thought she deserved it.

Vi muttered a small curse to herself and she looked genuinely apologetic. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I swear, I was going to come but then my phone died, and-and I was with Caitlyn and—“

A heavy sigh escaped you at the name. “Caitlyn, right yeah. That makes sense.”

A look came on Vi’s face, one you knew too well when she was about to become argumentative. “What are you talking about?”

”You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, Vi,” you pointed out. “I’ve noticed it— we all have. You’re always with her.”

”We’re friends!”

”You’re friends with Jayce but when’s the last time you’ve hung out with him since meeting Caitlyn? Is she too rich for chargers so you couldn’t check your phone for five minutes?”

Vi scoffed at you. “What, you want me to stop hanging out with Caitlyn just because you’re jealous?”

”I have nothing to be jealous of, Violet!” You yelled. “Cait’s a friend, I get that. But you have been blowing me off time and time again for her. And the one time I actually needed you, you were with her instead. How the hell do you expect me to feel?”

A short pause came from Violet. And what she said next, set your skin aflame.

”I just think you’re overreacting. It’s a fucking game, I’ll just watch the next one.”

“Okay, you know what,” you paused, running your hands over your face; it didn’t do much to calm your heated nerves. “I’m not doing this with you, right now, Vi.”

Vi’s tense posture immediately changed at the tone of your voice; it was shaky, as if you were holding back tears. You almost never cried, at least in front of her, so the new sight was worrisome. She heard you breath in harshly before continuing.

“I’m way too upset at you right now to even finish this conversation,” you said quietly to her. “I’m tired…and honestly just want some space from you.”

Vi swore her heart stopped at those words. Space? “You…Y/N, you can’t be serious.” Space was the main thing Vi hated. It meant you leaving her.

”I am, actually.” Your back was turned from her at that point so you couldn’t see her face fall in disbelief at the sight of you getting ready to leave the apartment.

She knew you made up your mind and were done hearing her but Vi still had to try. “Babe, don’t go. You’re right, is that what you want to hear? I’m sorry, alright?”

”Glad you came to your senses,” you muttered, albeit bitterly.

Vi was desperate at this point. “You don’t have to leave! I can sleep out here!”

”When I said ‘space’, Vi, I meant completely,” you said. Your voice was starting to get tense, a tell that you were getting annoyed. “My parents live a few minutes away, remember? I'll be fine.”

”Y/N please, just—“

“Vi! I’ll…talk to you eventually,” was the last thing you said before the door closed behind you.