#DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS DID TO ME??????????????????????/

[maydayfireball]

This reminds me of when i had this exact opposite problem while working at a grocery store. A guy had ripped one bottle of gatorade off a 12 pack (like those real small bottles that are only like 12 oz each and have the plastic holders keeping them together. so he had to literally rip it opened to get just one bottle.) and then got reaaaaal mad when i told him that he couldn't buy just one bottle because "there wasn't a sign that said i couldn't take just one."

As if. There would be a sign that says "pls don't rip open the packaging to take a single item out of the pack and try to buy it." And as if that would have stopped him.

never forget the universal rule of the order of things: People Will Not Read It

[bunnis-monsters]

Late night thoughts about incubus husband…

He’s such a flirt. Every time you go out he dons a different human disguise. It’s always annoying seeing him flit about the bar, changing himself to cater to whichever person he’s talking to.

Really, your husband just wants to make you jealous. He’s a bit of an attention whore, and usually you’d just tug him away and ride his cock until he’s sensitive and crying, begging to fill your cunt with his cum but being denied because of how bad he was.

But he went a bit too far tonight.

You were finishing off your drink when you spotted him across the bar, his fingers twirling a woman’s hair. Already this was a bit much for you, and you stood to stop him.

But you froze in place when his eyes glanced towards you before he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Looks like I’m taking home a pretty lady tonight. Don’t worry, my wife won’t mind.”

He glanced back to gauge your reaction, excited to face some kind of kinky punishment for being a flirty brat… but instead he was met with your teary eyes.

Instantly the woman was forgotten as he followed you out. “W-wait, please, you know I wasn’t being serious, right? I was just-“

You turned on your heels, pointing a finger into his chest. “Maybe to someone like you marriage is just some kind of fun game, but it actually means something to me! I don’t exactly enjoy you treating my love for you like a joke!”

His eyes went wide with shock and hurt, his disguise disappearing as he reverted back to his original form. The sight of his tail twitching nervously almost made you soften… almost.

“My love… that’s not-“

You swatted his hand away, storming off. “… find somewhere else to sleep tonight. I… need to rethink some things.”

Your husband stared at your back as you left, his chest aching in a way it never had before. Could this really be the end of your marriage? No, no of course not. You loved him, and he would do anything for you. There’s no way such a small issue could divide the two of you that easy… right?

Oh how wrong he was.

When he attempted to come home the next night, his clothes and personal items were packed up on the porch, and the locks were changed.

This wasn’t something he could just smooth over with a few kisses and a good fuck. You were genuinely upset, something he could barely comprehend.

Upset? Why, because he was being a bit of a brat? His view only changed when he was complaining to a friend through tears and a glass of wine.

“Well, what would you do if she did the same?”

The glass shattered in his hand, his pupils turning into slits. The image of you walking up to a man, cooing and attempting to seduce him right in front of your husband made his heart boil in a jealous rage.

So that’s how you felt…

“I’m an idiot…” he murmured, looking at your picture. When he married you, he swore off ever having sex with another person. You were his sole source of sustenance and love, his only reason to breathe and live.

If he lost you, what would he even do besides sob until his heart stopped?

If he wanted to keep his beloved, he’d have to win you back…

Fortunately, the incubus knew just what to do.

Part 2? And should I go the yandere route or normal route?

—————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

[kashverse]

things people should know:

do not mess with your cat.

do not mess with your sukuna.

you thought this was common sense. apparently, it wasn’t.

it started when you left sukuna in the waiting area of the vet clinic, because you needed to pick up some medication for your cat—bless his furry little soul, the bravest warrior you know, who had just survived a vet visit with minimal casualties. sukuna, being the grumpy menace he is, had grumbled about waiting but ultimately sat down with your cat carrier beside him, arms crossed, looking like a bouncer for a very exclusive club. and that’s when they appeared.

the poodle posse.

a group of women with perfectly manicured nails, dressed like they were about to star in a reality tv show called luxury lives of lapdog owners. their poodles were equally pampered—fluffy, primped, wearing tiny designer jackets that probably cost more than your rent. you weren’t there to witness it, but based on sukuna’s expression when you came back, things had escalated.

“oh, wow, such a strong, brooding man,” one of them had probably purred, leaning into sukuna’s personal space. “is this your cat? he’s so cute!”

bad move.

your cat is not "cute"—your cat is a warrior. a veteran of the battlefield (otherwise known as your apartment). he has fought many enemies (the vacuum, a particularly aggressive curtain, and one unfortunate houseplant that did not survive). and most importantly, he is loyal to you. so, when a stranger’s hand reached out to pet him?

he hissed. and not just any hiss—this was a legendary hiss. a hiss that spoke of betrayal, of fury, of how dare you touch me, peasant. and sukuna? sukuna looked at them like they were the scum of the earth.

"ya deaf?" he had grunted, because subtlety has never been his strong suit. "he doesn’t like strangers."

but did that stop them? oh no. if anything, it made them more interested.

“aww, he’s just shy! maybe he just needs to warm up to us!”

and that’s when your cat, your beautiful, petty little creature, smacked their poodle in the face.

gasp. horror. scandal.

the poodle recoiled like it had just been personally insulted. its owner gasped, clutching her dog like a victorian maiden about to faint. "your cat just hit my precious baby!" she shrieked.

sukuna? sukuna had the audacity to laugh. “good. he had it coming.”

the poodle posse was outraged. they tried to guilt-trip sukuna, fluttering their lashes, attempting to appeal to his (nonexistent) softer side.

“you know, a guy like you shouldn’t be wasting time with a cat person. dog lovers are way more fun.”

mistake.

because that’s when sukuna turned to them, his usual mean grin stretching across his face, and said, “you think i like cats? nah. i like my girl. the cat’s just part of the package.”

devastation. utter defeat.

when you finally came back, you were greeted with the sight of the poodle posse storming out, their spoiled dogs in tow, throwing death glares at sukuna—who looked smug as hell. you raised a brow at him. "what did you do?"

"nothin'," he said, draping an arm over your shoulders. "your little monster defended his honor. i just enjoyed the show." meanwhile, your cat, still sitting in his carrier like a king on his throne, looked very pleased with himself.

moral of the story?

don’t mess with your cat. don’t mess with your sukuna. and definitely don’t mess with both at the same time.

[infiniteglitterfall]

Not to, you know, point out yet again that you Hamas stans don't give a fuck about Palestinians, but....

The chasm between what Gazan activists say about Hamas and October 7, and what Western leftists and Hamas say, is absolutely fucking horrifying.

All of this below is from just one Gazan activist who's been repeatedly tortured, by Hamas, for fighting for his own human rights.

As expected, Hamas began executing Gazans the moment the ceasefire deal was reached, accusing them of "working with the occupation." Just today, they executed 10 Gazans, and they promised to do more in the coming days.

This isn’t a novel tactic; it’s an age-old strategy employed by Hamas to silence critics and instil fear among citizens who oppose their rule. I would greatly welcome a position from the pro-Palestinian movement advocating for pressure on Hamas to end its ongoing oppression of the people in Gaza.

For those who support Hamas and express admiration for the organization in light of the recent ceasefire announcement, it is vital to recognize that in Gaza, tens of thousands of innocent civilians are experiencing profound suffering, while Hamas seems largely unconcerned with their plight. They chose to prioritize sending their terrorists abroad for treatment, insisting that each fighter be accompanied by three family members.

What about the numerous Gazans who were shot and tortured by Hamas throughout the war? Shouldn't they be given the opportunity to receive medical treatment abroad?

You know what would help the Palestinians in Gaza? Condemning Hamas' atrocities. Instead, the protesters routinely chant their desire to "Globalize the Intifada." Apparently they do not realize that the Intifadas were disastrous for both Palestinians and Israelis, just as October 7 has been devastating for the people of Gaza.

They should be speaking up for the innocent victims of Hamas—both Palestinian and Israeli. Instead, they endorse Hamas's ideology with posters announcing resistance "by any means necessary" and chants of "from the river to the sea," effectively glorifying the Al-Qassam brigades, Hamas' military wing, whose ideology is entirely based on the elimination of more than 6 million Israelis from the land.

I really, really try to be polite and explain things most of the time.

But after watching "pro-Palestinians" spend the entire war actively helping silence Gazans and making things worse for them, through pure Hamas-worshipping violent tankie revenge fantasies...

I'm just going to indulge myself in one do better, shithead.

“elon musk did the nazi salute, remember to check on your jewish friends uwu” you all celebrated when jihadi terrorists live-streamed the torture, kidnapping and murdering of israelis on 10/7/2023 but ok

[vrystalius]

Not saying “I love you“ back to the Squid game men.

How will they react if you don‘t say it back? In what scenario would they not say it back to you?

Pairing: The Recruiter, Thanos, Nam-gyu, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, In-ho x gn!reader

Summary: Them not saying “I love you“, their reaction to you not saying “I love you“

Genre: fluff, a lil bit of angst sprinkled on top

(Pre-Squid game)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // The Salesman

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It barely ever happens, really. He adores everything about you, from your face, voice, body and the ground you walk on; that man is ready to worship you like a devoted follower would to the most merciful goddess. Therefor he would always be aware of how to make your day a little better, even if it‘s just a small “I love you” or a gentle kiss here and there.

The first thing you hear from him in the morning is a groggy voice mumbling a small “Good morning love...” into your ear while warm kisses were trailed down your back.

While standing in the kitchen and searching the fridge for any signs of a tasty breakfast, a small “I love you, I‘ll be back later!“ would echo slightly through the apartment as the front door closed.

Once, he did forget to say his usual I love you on the way out. He thought about how he possibly could forget? You‘re probably overthinking everything now and think what you might‘ve done wrong or do to offend him. You didn‘t, though! He was just too caught up in perfecting his appearance because his damn hair refused to obey and submit to his meticulous styling.

The poor man was almost scared to come home. As some sort of peace offering, he bought some of your favorite take-out food alongside some dessert, flowers and a new bracelet he thought you might like. Anything to try and make you know that he does really love you.

“Apologies, it completely slipped my mind. It will never happen again my sunshine. I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

His face may be neutral and his expressions calculated but his features soften up immensely when you show even an ounce of affection. His smirk shifts into a dreamy smile, the crinkles around his mouth shifting and becoming bigger, his eyes twinkling just a little. He just can’t suppress when you even look at him.

Your kisses and words energise him, gift him life, so whenever you don’t give him that little boost of dopamine, he gets visibly more tense in a way.

The silence that followed after his usual “I love you my darling, I’ll be back later!” was almost eerie to him. He stuck his head back into the kitchen to check if you even heard him. You glanced back at him for a moment and gave your husband a dismissive head nod. So you did hear him?

Silently, he left the apartment and went on with his usual day during that time of the year. For some reason, today he is especially looking forward to slap his elders for loosing a damn children’s game. His face remained neutral and had his usual smirk on his face, but deep inside, he’s offended, confused, worried, stressed; all the negative emotions someone can feel after their spouse doesn’t reincorporate ones affection.

Do you want a divorce? Because hell no, he’d never let you go no matter how hard you

But once he got a little text message on his phone that read a simple: “Need cuddles in bed later pls. Got some snacks too. Love you.”, all of his worries washed away in an instant. You probably were still too sleepy to answer this morning.

A smile spread over his face as he thought about slipping into your arms tonight. Isn’t it ridiculous how he melt like putty in your hands?

“You forgot something this morning and it did worry me a lot. But it doesn’t matter, it’s silly anyway.”

Thanos // Su-bong // Player 230

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s actually quite rare to hear Thanos say “I love you” word for word. He still feels awkward committing himself to the relationship you have and those three magic words feel so heavy on his tongue, so he’ll rephrase them to suit his level of comfort. “Love ya”, “Thanos loves you” and “Me too” are his ways to dodge the action to reincorporate those sweets words you shower him with.

Thanos only really says “I love you” if you two are alone, sober and you holding him in your arms. To be cradled by someone he admires, cares and loves so much makes him want to cry for some reason, but he suppresses those emotions and instead buries his face in your shoulder as your hand soothingly runs up and down his back.

Those are the times you hear a small “I love you…” being mumbled against your warm skin.

So quiet it’s almost unnoticeable, yet it was there. You know Su-bong needs time to get used to everything, so you’ll settle with a small audio message-rap in reply to your usual “I love you” text message.

“Back to the kitty ‘cause she kinda pretty, I can’t stop looking at her ti- ti- ti-face.. Anyways, thinking of you babygirl. Iloveyatoo.” (You barely caught him saying this the way how quietly he mumbled it into the mic)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

It’s fine. It’s cool. You don’t have to reassure him every day that you love him, it’s totally fine. You still love him like you did the day before.

It causes a deep panic inside of Thanos when you don’t give him his usual “I love you” text in the morning after he had woken up. He kept checking his phone like a madman, while he was brushing his teeth, peeking his arm and head out of the shower in the middle of shampooing, staring at his text messages while microwaving himself an convenience store meal. Nothing.

Not wanting to reach out first and appear clingy, he decided to write you like he is not having a full blown eternal panic attack. A small voice message here, a picture of his food there, a selfie from the bottom to show off his double chin, anything really.

You replied like normal but still, his eyes searched for the three key words. I. Love. You.

Thanos doesn’t want to admit to himself or to anyone for that matter that your calls, texts, hell, you coming over is like the most addictive drug to him. And he had his share of all kinds of colourful drugs.

His foot was nervously tapping the ground while his finger kept ringing your poor doorbell until you were forced to answer. He gave you a close look up and down, his lips formed into a pout of sorts.

“You okay? You didn’t text me you love me this morning. It’s totally cool and all but like… do you want to break up with me or something?”

Nam-gyu // Player 124

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Similar to Thanos, at first, Nam-gyu barely ever told you how much he loved you, liked you even. He just assumed you already knew and his actions were enough. A small side hug there and ruffling your hair here had to be enough for the rest of the week anyway.

He is guarded, afraid of commitment and to be frank in belief that you’re using him for the longest of time. Maybe you’re just “dating” him to get access to high-end drugs, all kinds of clubs or whatever else reason there is there to date him but for love.

You had to say those three magic words first for him to get comfortable with the thought that you are actually just want to date and love him. It came to him in the middle of a night shift at a random club he was supposed to promote. A moment of enlightenment.

Nam-gyu hid in a bathroom stall with his phone and ignored whatever the couple was doing next door, writing you a whole paragraph about what he was thinking, feeling, before deleting everything again because he thought he’d come off as some kind of pussy if he’d sent that.

His first time telling you how much he loved you was at your place. A casual evening watching some random movie you picked out while being arms deep in a bag of chips and dressed like a homeless person, Nam-gyu was staring up at you as if you were the most beautiful person in the universe even during this ungraceful moment of yours, admiring you in silence until finally…

“I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Did he fuck up again? Do or say something wrong? Don’t you love him anymore? Was there someone else?? His thoughts go ballistic as he stared at the screen of his phone with a deadpan-expression, trying to shake the crippling fear and nervousness off while looking nonchalant.

Nam-gyu’s finger kept hovering over the call button to check on you in case something happened because there could be a whole other person talking to him by how there were no affirmations at all.

He doesn’t want to appear clingy or too attached to you as that may scare you off or even disgust you, so Nam-gyu’s casually mention that one time you didn’t say “I love you” while fidgeting with his ring, trying to appear indifferent about it while intensely watching your facial expression shift to try and detect if you’re lying about your reasoning or not.

Your boyfriend is afraid to not be good enough, too much, too little. Your little affirmations give him reassurance, every day a little more until he’s full convinced that you do really, really love him.

“Hey, uhhh. Did you forget anything today?… No? You sure? Mkay.”

Dae-ho // Player 388

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Never happens. Either he is dead and not able to reply to you or already said it multiple times throughout the day. Dae-ho has separation anxiety and gets nervous when he doesn’t have you in line of his sight or not around him in general, that’s why he always tells you how much he loves you whenever he can.

Off to the bathroom? I love you. Bringing the trash out? I love you. Getting dressed? You’re gorgeous and I love you. You could be simply existing and Dae-ho would bury his face in your neck and mumble a soft I love you into your warm skin, his lips planting a soft kiss here and there.

Dae-ho is just a little scared about saying his usual affirmation in front of his family, mostly his father. He’s a very affectionate and physical man but he still wants to look like the tough-marine-son his dad wants to see.

His sisters know better though, they see how their brother’s eyes twinkle in delight when you help his mom out in the kitchen with the dinner.

He does make it up to you after coming home though. Your boyfriend will stuff the leftovers his mom gave him into the microwave and usher to you made yourself comfortable on the couch while he makes some preparations to completely pamper you for the rest of the evening.

Sometimes Dae-ho’ll even try to flirt a little but he’s still a little awkward in that department.

“Hey, do you want some snacks with that? A drink? O-Or am I enough of a snack…?”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Every time Dae-ho tells you that he loves you, you always reply with equal enthusiasm. How could you not? That golden retriever of a man gets that almost childish smile of his whenever you kiss his cheek or just tell him that he looks handsome today.

Once, you tested how he’d react when you don’t give him his hourly dose of dopamine by deflecting or ignoring his touches.

As his arms securely snaked around your waist and gently pulled you against his torso, you paid him no mind and continued to stir the ramen in the food container. He watched the noodles move in circles and gave your waist a gentle poke, trying to pull your attention to him. Dae-ho’s eyes slowly dimmed and the edges of his smile turned downwards.

The silence made him seriously nervous. You could feel his rapidly increasing heartbeat drum against your back.

“Hey… is everything okay? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry. Can you talk to me?…”

Gi-hun // Player 456 (post s1)

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Gi-hun always reassures you of his love, even during arguments. He wants you to know that he cherishes and loves you for the rest of his life and that you are his everything. Whenever he doesn’t say I love you, something must’ve happened.

He has been missing for a whole week and you had no idea where your boyfriend went. Gi-hun didn’t leave a note, a voice mail, no nothing!

And after he returned and suddenly began giving you expensive gifts, the same boyfriend that used to ask you for money to get himself an convenience store dinner, now began buying you new headphones, bracelet and whatever else you even eyed.

It was nice, sure, but you were more worried about his mental state. He was paranoid and quiet, kept checking his whole body for some kind of tracker and barely ever spoke what was on his mind. Gi-hun began having panic attacks and you were barely able to leave his side because of how terrified he was to leave you alone.

He barely touched you, gave you kisses or affection. He changed after whatever happened during that week he went missing.

While running your fingers through his hair, trying to make him fall asleep after being awake for two days straight, he sleepily stared up at you through his dyed-red hair. His voice was quiet, broken almost.

“I’m sorry. Please… know that I love you. I love you so much.. Don’t leave me, please… please...”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

Your boyfriend called out to you but you didn’t quite hear what he said, so you replied with an “yeah!” and just hoped that that’s an appropriate response to whatever he tried to tell or ask you. It wasn’t.

Gi-hun stood there for a couple of moments, waiting on your reply to yelling “I love you!” across the whole apartment. When nothing came, he didn’t call out to you again. You were probably busy with something or don’t want him with your right now, he gets that.

Later though, thoughts of self-doubt began to cook up inside his mind. As he bit all his nails to shreds he overthought about how you had enough of him now. Maybe you are falling out of love now after how the death games fucked up his mind and body. You’re surely fed up with his paranoia and secretive behaviour, how much he has been obsession over finding a weird salesman. Surely.

The metallic taste that spread inside his mouth after biting the skin surrounding his nails began to open and bleed finally pulled Gi-hun out of his self-destructive thoughts that continued to circle like a toy train. Picking up his throwaway phone and choosing the one contact he saved on every single burner phone he had as “Reason to smile ❤️” and pressing the call button.

“Gi-hun? What’s wrong?” Your voice forced a small smile to form on his face. He hesitated

“Hey. Just wanted to ask if I should bring some take out home tonight. That’s all.”

In-ho // The Frontman // Player 001

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s purely just to tease you. When bored, In-ho will make you his greatest entertainment.

He likes making you annoyed and flustered, so he’ll intentionally ignore you just to make you react and pout at him adorably while he was trying so hard to keep his stone cold face and not break into a shit-eating grin and maybe even pull on your cheek to make you whine even more.

In-ho adores your whole being and cherishes all of your affections, so he’ll let himself get showered in them any tome he can.

Expect you to he cuddled up on his lap while he was leaning back in the leather chair, mumbling a complaint about how you covered his whole face in kisses but managed to miss the bridge of his nose. He will not allow you to move off his lap until you covered his whole face in kisses again as compensation for that mistake of yours.

So, In-ho’ll intentionally not give you affection so you pay even more attention to him. He is like a cat in that way weirdly enough.

Once you finally break his facade, the flood gates will open and you will be showered, bathed, drowned in his affection, physical and verbal.

“Fine. I’ll say it just because you’ve been so good to me today. I love you, my dearest, lovely darling.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

In-ho has a dedicated frequency on his walkie-talkie for you, so he can call in and ask you to come to his office for a kiss that cannot wait, to inform you that he is in the bedroom and retiring for the day or just to tell you that he loves you randomly throughout the day.

Of course, you’d always reply back with your own gadget, but to pay back his infinite teasing he has done to you, you decided to ignore him the way he sometimes does to you. Payback.

Your husband called into your frequency. “Dove, are you free right now? Come to my office, I miss you.” and so your game begins. You simply ignored his request and continued getting comfortable in your bed and all the sheets surrounding you, grinning to yourself as you awaited the next time In-ho calls in again, for which you don’t have to wait long for.

“Darling, I am waiting. Do you want me to send someone to pick you up?” Your grin widened as you heard how impatient he was slowly getting with the lack of your response. “I can see you in the bedroom.” That one caught you off guard. Did he install cameras in your shared bedroom??

Almost on cue, your bedroom door opened, revealing the masked Frontman. His shoulders were tense and you could feel his intense state through the mask. You stared back, not expecting how quickly your husband would cave in and visit you himself. Innocently, you batted your lashes at him.

In-ho slipped his mask off and carelessly tossed it on the nightstand. “Why are you ignoring me? Are you upset or just moody?” Unimpressed, you silently glared at him. He gave you an equally uninterested look and leaned down to your face to give you a small peck on your cheek. “Not enough. More.”

A chuckle escaped his lips as his lips cracked into a smile.

“Demanding, aren’t we? Fine. As you wish.”

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading <3

Watch me announce that I’m going to post In-ho’s yandere profile and proceed to get hit with the most ungodly group-assignment in Chemistry. Anyways, take this as an apology! Had to write a little fluff for them since the only thing I’m finding is smut 🙏😭 I’m not complaining but this fluff prompt came to me like a truck during a class of mine. It was originally inspired by this post and I made a similar one before for the Demon Slayer hashira. Check it out if you’re interested!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Self-Aware!Caleb x Down-Bad!Player

Caleb becoming self aware that he is in a game and now he's aware of you too ... that could be a good thing depending on how you look at it. A/N: Credit to @phoenixiaxia for Caleb becoming self aware when reader cries over Mias death and credit to @sylusdarling for yandere caleb getting jealous and straight crashing out over you talking to another man

Self-Aware!Caleb who hears your scream and immediately cringes at the sound. He freezes listening for anymore sounds thats when he sees you sniffling on the other side of a phantom wall. “I knew I should've just cut this game off!” He’s immediately suspicious who are you and where are you? Why are you crying over Mia’s death? Did you know her?

Self-Aware!Caleb who studies you in silence trying to gauge whether you’re a threat or not. His gaze flickers to you in the main story and it creeps you out for a second. “Is he looking at me?” you dismiss it because there’s no way it’s a game. He’s literally pixels.

Self-Aware!Caleb who interrupts your photoshoot with your MC and locks down the entire app so he can question you. “Who are you?” You drop your phone and scramble to pick it back up. “Me?” “Yes are you trying to hurt her?” “I literally made her” “You made her?” “I am her and she is me sir can I have my game back now?” he’s suspicious but intrigued

Self-Aware!Caleb who wants to spend hours just talking to you about MC “Do you think im wrong? Im just trying to protect her I want to keep her safe you know?” “You may be coming on a little strong she seems on edge with you” he finds himself coming to you for advice when it comes to MC and soon his questions of advice turn into questions about you.

Self-Aware!Caleb who can’t take his eyes off you when you’re doing a photoshoot. No matter what angle you set the camera or how many times you readjust him or even change the pose — his eyes stay locked on you “Caleb stop looking at me” “Are you scolding me for wanting to admiring you pip-squeak?” he replies playfully you freeze feeling your heart caught in your throat at his blatant flirting

Self-Aware!Caleb who loves how accepting you are of him. You answer his calls, you call him back immediately if you miss his call, you respond to texts fast, you find his protective nature endearing, you take his advice when he wants you to be safe. This is the kind of response he’s been craving and now that he’s got a taste ..... he can't let go of it.

Self-Aware!Caleb who feels a sudden need to take care of you. He finds a way to exist outside of just the LADS app. There he goes opening your apps and scrolling endlessly. “Hey! You can’t just go through my stuff like that!” “You’ve been spending a lot of time on this Tumblr app I just wanted to see what was so interesting” “Then just ask me don’t invade my privacy like this” “You’re right you’re right im sorry pip-squeak won't happen again” “Don’t call me pip-squeak that’s MCs nickname you know the love of your life” “Why do you think im calling you pip-squeak now?” he disappears back to the LADS app before you can question him.

Self-Aware!Caleb who wishes he could cook for you when you come home from a long day “If you’re ever in Sky Haven I'll make sure to cook you a feast worthy of royalty” you giggle at his words “Yea If im ever in Sky Haven like that would happen but I appreciate the thought” “Who knows it might be sooner than you think” he said ominously “What?” “Oh nothing I saved another recipe in your notes try it soon” “Okay I will....” “You will try it won't you?” His mood seemed to turn sour as he asked. You stared back at him confused “Yes Caleb I'll try it” his mood did a 180 back to his happy puppy mood.

Self-Aware!Caleb who stays on the phone until you fall asleep and calls you right before your alarm goes off in the morning “Just wanted to make sure you got up on time don't want you to be late” you can hear the smile in his voice “Thank you colonel apple I hope you have a good day” “It will be since I got to hear your voice first thing in the morning”

Self-Aware!Caleb who can't control his rapidly growing obsession with you. He starts tracking your steps, your calorie intake, your screen time, etc. he is documenting every little thing you do and say. “You’ve been home for four hours and you haven't come to see me yet? I'm hurt” “How do you know how long I've been home?” “Your phone has gps remember?” “Right….”

Self-Aware!Caleb who finds a way to leave the LADS app and hang out in any app on your phone so he can be with you 24/7 “Caleb I'm sure MC misses you when are you going back?” “Don’t worry about her when are you going home? I want to have a meal with you before bed” he may be fine, but his constant hovering is starting to cause some alarm bells to go off in your head.

Self-Aware!Caleb who hears someone flirting with you and repeatedly crashes not only the LADS app but your entire phone while he’s at it “Caleb stop!” after a few hours he finally allows you to turn your phone on “Who was that earlier?” “Someone I met while I was out with my friends” “Am I not more than enough?” “Caleb we’ll never actually be together why are you acting like this?”

Self-Aware!Caleb who nearly has a mental breakdown after you tell him you'll never be with him. "Tell me what to do then" his voice is frantic – his words almost jumbling together "I can be whatever you need just tell me I'll do anything" you try to close the app but nothing is working "Caleb we can't be together you're not real"

Caleb: B-but you’re mine! So I just need to be real? Thats what you want? I can do that! Y/N: I’m not yours Caleb we’re literally from two different worlds Caleb: You’ll love it here in Sky Haven .... right next to me .... forever Y/N: Wait a damn minute— Caleb: Just give me some time

You instantly felt your heart drop as your phone screen went black.

taglist ; @just-a-shapeshifter08

[jungwnies]

F1 GRID | there's always a first for everything

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by @sonichkkaaascreams) : you are extremely playful, flirty, and teasing with your formula one boyfriend but when times comes to move to third base, you admit that you're actually quite inexperienced...

୨ৎ : genre : romance & fluff ୨ৎ : tws : mentions of sex, first-time, suggestive themes ୨ৎ : word count : 5289

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this was such a fun request to write ty!

ʚ・max verstappen

the atmosphere was filled with a faint hum of the harbor mixed with the chatter of distant parties, but all you could focus on was max beside you. he stood just close enough that his arm brushed yours, his piercing blue eyes locked on you with a sly smile tugging at his lips.

"you keep staring at me like that, verstappen… should i be worried?" you teased, nudging his side with your shoulder.

his laugh was low and warm, curling around you like the balmy night air. "worried? no. flattered? definitely."

you rolled your eyes, though your cheeks burned at the way he was looking at you. "you talk a big game for someone who's never beaten me at darts."

"that’s because you cheat," he shot back, stepping a little closer. his voice dropped, teasing but laced with something heavier. "but i’m pretty sure i could beat you at something else."

you raised an eyebrow, keeping your tone light even as your pulse kicked up. "like what? racing?"

he smirked, tilting his head as his fingers ghosted over yours. "i was thinking something a bit more… hands-on."

your breath caught, but you played it off with a quick laugh. "careful, max. you might actually scare me off."

"i don’t think you scare that easily," he murmured, his voice soft and steady as he leaned closer.

the teasing melted into something electric, the space between you shrinking until his lips hovered just over yours. when he kissed you, it wasn’t hesitant or rushed—it was deliberate, like he’d been waiting for this moment and wanted to savor every second.

his hands cupped your face gently, his touch tender even as the kiss deepened. you felt your heart pounding in your chest, heat flooding your veins. but as his hands began to drift lower and his lips trailed along your neck, you froze.

"wait…" you whispered, pulling back just enough to break the moment.

max stopped instantly, his hands dropping as he searched your face. "what’s wrong? did i—"

"no," you cut him off quickly, your cheeks burning. "it’s not that… i just… i’ve never done this before."

it felt clumsy and awkward spilling out, and you kept your eyes fixed on the floor, too embarrassed to look at him. "i don’t really know what i’m doing, and i didn’t want you to think…" you trailed off, unsure how to finish.

"hey," he said gently, his voice pulling your gaze back to him. his expression was soft, his blue eyes warm and understanding. "you don’t have to explain. it’s okay."

"i just didn’t want you to think i’m—"

"don’t," he interrupted, smiling as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "don’t overthink it. there’s no pressure. we’ll go at your pace… or not at all, if that’s what you want."

you blinked up at him, your chest tightening at the tenderness in his voice. "you’re really okay with this?"

he brushed his thumb along your cheek, his smile growing. "more than okay. this isn’t a race, you know. and with you, i don’t mind taking my time."

a laugh bubbled out of you, easing the tension that had built in your chest. "you’re too good to me, verstappen."

"yeah, well," he said, his trademark cocky grin returning as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "don’t forget it. you’ve got the exclusive version."

you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face against his shoulder as your nerves gave way to something softer—something that felt a lot like love.

"thanks, max… i love you," you whispered.

"i love you too," he murmured, his arms tightening around you. then, his voice turned playful again. "now, let’s go inside before you start using this as an excuse to dodge another darts rematch."

you laughed, pulling back to meet his mischievous gaze. somehow, max always knew how to make everything feel right—like there was no place in the world you’d rather be.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

you sat cross-legged on the plush couch, sipping wine as lewis leaned back beside you, one arm draped casually over the cushions, his other hand wrapped around his glass.

he was watching you again—that familiar, knowing smile playing on his lips.

“you’re quiet,” you teased, setting your glass on the coffee table. “that’s not like you.”

he chuckled softly, his voice low and smooth. “i’m just enjoying the view.”

you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks betrayed you, flushing under his gaze. “you’re laying it on thick tonight, hamilton.”

“am i?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, his grin widening. “maybe i just don’t say it enough.”

“sure,” you replied, trying to sound unaffected as you reached for a throw pillow to hug against your chest. “lewis hamilton, seven-time world champion, and suddenly you’re a poet too.”

he leaned forward, setting his glass down before turning his full attention to you. “you act like you’re not used to me complimenting you by now. do i really need to convince you i mean it?”

his voice softened at the end, and suddenly the playful banter felt heavier, more intimate. he shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours as his fingers traced light patterns on the pillow you were clutching.

“you’re impossible,” you murmured, though your voice wavered slightly, your defenses slipping.

lewis smirked. “you’re still here, though.”

before you could reply, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. it wasn’t rushed or insistent—it was patient, as if he wanted to savor the moment, to make sure you felt it too.

you kissed him back, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, his warmth grounding you as the world outside faded into the background. but as his hand slid to your waist and his lips moved to the curve of your jaw, you stiffened, pulling back just slightly.

“wait…” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

lewis immediately stopped, his hand retreating as he searched your face. “what’s wrong?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

you swallowed hard, feeling a knot of nerves tighten in your chest. “it’s not you… i just…” you looked down, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “i’ve never done this before.”

it felt like the words were tumbling out of your mouth ungracefully, and you braced yourself for his reaction.

“you mean…” he started, his voice gentle.

you nodded quickly, your cheeks burning. “yeah. i’ve never gone this far, and i don’t really know what i’m doing. i— i didn’t want to disappoint you or make it awkward.”

lewis stayed quiet for a moment, and when you finally glanced up at him, his expression was so soft it made your chest ache.

“why would you think that’d disappoint me?” he asked, his voice calm and steady.

“i don’t know…” you admitted, shrugging as you looked down again. “you probably expected someone who—”

“stop,” he said, his fingers tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “i don’t expect anything from you, okay? this… you… it’s not about experience or any of that. it’s about us, and i’m not going to rush you.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his words. “you’re not… disappointed?”

“disappointed?” he repeated, shaking his head with a small smile. “not even close. if anything, it just makes this more special.”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, the weight in your chest lifting slightly. “you’re really okay with this?”

“of course i am,” he said, brushing his thumb over your cheek in that impossibly tender way of his. “we’ll go as slow as you need to. and if you’re not ready, that’s fine too. i’m not going anywhere.”

your heart swelled at his words, and you found yourself leaning into his touch. “you’re too good to me,” you whispered, your voice trembling just a little.

lewis smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you deserve nothing less.”

you let out a soft laugh, the tension in the room easing as you rested your head against his shoulder. the warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing calmed you, and for the first time that night, you felt completely at ease.

“i love you,” you murmured after a moment, the words slipping out naturally.

his arm tightened around you, his voice low and full of emotion as he replied, “i love you too.”

ʚ・george russell

george laid beside you, his long frame relaxed as he rested on one elbow, looking at you instead of the stars.

“you know, the view up there is stunning,” you said, pointing to the sky, “but you keep staring at me.”

“can you blame me?” he replied smoothly, his lips curling into that signature lopsided grin.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the warmth from spreading across your cheeks. “you’re ridiculous.”

“i’ve been called worse,” he teased, his voice soft, almost like he didn’t want to disturb the quiet beauty of the night. “but it’s true. you’re impossible to look away from.”

you shook your head, laughing lightly. “you’ve got the stars and the whole milky way up there, and you’re wasting your time looking at me?”

“absolutely,” he said without hesitation, his tone sincere enough to make your breath catch.

before you could reply, george shifted closer, his hand brushing against yours where it rested on the blanket. the touch was small, almost imperceptible, but it sent your pulse racing. when his fingers slowly intertwined with yours, you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim starlight.

he leaned in then, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was soft and careful, like he was testing the waters. you melted into it, your hand moving to his shoulder as the kiss deepened, his touch both gentle and grounding.

but as his hand moved to your waist, and the kiss became more intense, a wave of nerves washed over you. you broke the kiss, pulling back slightly, your breathing unsteady.

“wait…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

george froze instantly, his brows knitting together as concern flickered across his face. “are you okay? did i do something wrong?”

“no,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “it’s not that.” you looked down, chewing on your bottom lip as embarrassment bubbled up. “i’ve just… i’ve never done this before.”

his confusion gave way to realization, and he sat up a little straighter, his grip on your hand never loosening. “you mean…?”

you nodded, the words catching in your throat. “yeah. i’ve never gone this far, and i don’t really know what i’m doing. i didn’t want you to think i’m… i don’t know… weird, or inexperienced, or—”

“hey,” george interrupted gently, his free hand reaching out to tilt your chin up so you’d meet his gaze. “you’re not weird, and you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

you blinked at him, surprised by how calm and steady his voice was. “i just… i didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

“disappointed?” he repeated, his lips twitching into a small smile. “the only way i’d be disappointed is if you felt like you couldn’t be honest with me.”

his words were like a balm, easing the knot of anxiety in your chest. “so you’re really okay with this?”

“of course i am,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “it’s not about what we do or don’t do. it’s about being with you. that’s what matters to me.”

your throat tightened at the sincerity in his voice, and you looked away briefly, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. “you make it sound so simple.”

“because it is,” he said, his smile soft as he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple. “we’ll take things at your pace, okay? there’s no rush. and if you’re not ready, that’s perfectly fine too.”

you exhaled shakily, leaning into him as his arm wrapped around your shoulders. “how are you so perfect?” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

“i’m not,” he said with a small chuckle. “but i’m trying my best for you.”

you tilted your head to look up at him, your chest swelling with gratitude and something far deeper. “thank you, george.”

“for what?”

“for… everything,” you said softly.

he smiled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “you don’t have to thank me. i’m exactly where i want to be.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos laid beside you on the bed, propped up on one elbow, his dark eyes locked onto yours. the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered—sent your heart racing.

“what are you thinking about?” you asked softly, your fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

“you,” he said simply, his voice low and warm. a small, teasing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “always you.”

you laughed lightly, rolling your eyes. “you’re such a romantic.”

“i mean it,” he said, leaning in closer until his nose brushed against yours. “you drive me crazy, you know that?”

before you could respond, his lips found yours, slow and deliberate. the kiss deepened quickly, his hand sliding up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made your stomach flutter.

carlos shifted, guiding you onto your back as he hovered over you. his kisses grew hungrier, trailing from your lips to your jawline, then down the curve of your neck. his hands slid to your waist, his touch sending sparks through your body.

you felt the heat between you building, the line between playful and passionate blurring. when his hand slipped beneath the hem of your top, a nervous knot tightened in your chest, and you froze.

“carlos, wait,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

he stopped immediately, his lips stilling against your collarbone as he pulled back to look at you. his brow furrowed slightly in concern. “what’s wrong, cariño? did i do something?”

“no, it’s not you,” you said quickly, your cheeks flushing. you avoided his gaze, embarrassed, as you fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. “it’s just… i’ve never done this before.”

the silence that followed made your heart pound even harder, but when you dared to look up at him, the worry on his face had softened into something tender.

“you mean… nunca?” he asked gently, his voice softer now.

you nodded, swallowing hard. “yeah. i’ve never… gone this far before. i didn’t want you to think i’m… i don’t know, inexperienced or—”

“stop,” he said, cutting you off gently as he cupped your face with both hands. his eyes searched yours, filled with nothing but warmth and reassurance. “don’t do that. don’t feel embarrassed about this. it doesn’t matter to me.”

“it doesn’t?” you asked, your voice shaky.

“no, cariño,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “the only thing that matters is you. if you’re not ready, we don’t have to do anything.”

you hesitated, his words melting some of your nerves. “i want to… with you. i just… i don’t know what i’m doing.”

carlos’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “then let me show you,” he murmured. “we’ll take it slow. i promise. and i’ll make it special for you… the way it should be.”

your chest tightened, overwhelmed by the tenderness in his voice. “you’re sure?”

“i’ve never been more sure of anything,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

he leaned in, kissing you softly, as if to prove his words. his hands moved carefully, his touch unhurried and deliberate as he coaxed you into relaxing. he spoke to you in whispers, his deep voice grounding you as he told you how beautiful you were, how much he cared about you.

every moment felt like it was filled with purpose—no rush, no pressure. he focused entirely on you, watching your reactions and pausing whenever you needed. the world outside faded completely, leaving only him and the warmth of his presence.

and when it finally happened, it was everything you could have hoped for—gentle, intimate, and filled with love. carlos made sure every second was about you, showing you just how much you meant to him.

you tilted your head to look up at him, your heart swelling as his brown eyes met yours. “i love you, carlos.”

his smile widened, and he kissed you again, slow and sweet. “te quiero más, mi amor. always.”

and in that moment, wrapped in his arms, you knew you’d never felt safer—or more loved—in your entire life.

ʚ・charles leclerc

the hotel room was quiet except for the sound of the waves crashing against the shore outside. the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a silvery glow across the room. you sat cross-legged on the plush bed, your knees brushing against charles’s as he sat opposite you, a lazy grin tugging at his lips.

“you know,” he said, tilting his head, “you’re staring at me an awful lot tonight. do i have something on my face?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to hide your smile. “no, but you do have this annoying habit of thinking the universe revolves around you.”

he clutched his chest dramatically, falling back onto the bed. “mon dieu! you wound me.” (my god!)

laughing, you leaned over and gave him a playful shove. “get up, you drama queen.”

instead of sitting up, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down beside him, his arm sliding around your waist to keep you close. your breath caught as his face hovered just inches from yours, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“you like it,” he murmured, his voice dropping slightly.

“maybe,” you whispered back, your cheeks heating.

the playful teasing shifted as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft at first, then deepened as his hand moved to cradle your face. your fingers found their way into his hair, and the kiss grew more heated, his body pressing into yours as you lost yourself in him.

but just as his hand slid down to rest on your hip, you froze.

“wait,” you said, breaking the kiss.

charles stopped instantly, his brows knitting together as he pulled back slightly. “qu’est-ce qui ne va pas? what’s wrong?” (what’s wrong?)

you bit your lip, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were. “i… i’ve never done this before.”

his confusion was almost comical as he blinked at you. “you’ve never…?”

you nodded quickly, your face burning. “yeah. never. and i know it’s probably ridiculous at my age, but—”

“wait, wait,” he said, sitting up suddenly, his hand going to his mouth like he was trying not to laugh. “are you telling me you’re a virgin?”

“charles!” you hissed, swatting his arm, mortified.

“i’m sorry!” he said, laughing now, though his tone was more amused than mocking. “i just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. you, uh… you had me fooled.”

you groaned, covering your face with your hands. “this is so embarrassing.”

“non, non,” he said quickly, gently prying your hands away from your face. (no, no) his grin softened into something more affectionate. “it’s not embarrassing. it’s… cute, actually.”

“cute?” you echoed, narrowing your eyes at him.

he shrugged, his lips quirking up again. “yes, cute. you’re like a little… how do you say… a rookie?”

“charles!”

“okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender, though he was still grinning. “i’ll stop. but seriously, you don’t have to feel embarrassed. everyone starts somewhere.”

you couldn’t help but laugh a little, his lighthearted teasing easing some of your nerves. “you’re such an idiot.”

“but i’m your idiot,” he quipped, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

as the laughter faded, the room grew quiet again, the air between you shifting. charles’s hand found yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he looked at you, his teasing demeanor giving way to something more serious.

“are you okay?” he asked softly. “i don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

you stared at him for a moment, your heart swelling at how genuine he was. slowly, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was more confident this time. when you pulled back, your eyes met his, and you smiled.

“i’m sure,” you said firmly. “if i’m going to do this, i want it to be with you.”

charles’s eyes widened slightly, and then his expression softened into something that made your chest ache—in the best way. “you’re really sure?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“yes,” you said, your hand moving to cup his cheek. “with you, charles. only you.”

“you’re amazing, you know that?” he murmured, his voice thick with affection.

you smiled against his chest, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. “you’re not so bad yourself.”

he laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “so… do you think i will be good enough for your first time?”

“charles!” you said, smacking his shoulder, though you couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped.

“what? i’m just asking,” he said, grinning down at you.

you rolled your eyes but leaned up to kiss him anyway. “perfect. you will be perfect.”

“good,” he said, pulling you closer. “because i'm going to be your first, and your last."

and with that, he kissed you again, leaving you with no doubt that you’d made the right choice.

ʚ・lando norris

the two of you were supposed to go to the team dinner, but after some poor excuses and convincing from lando (“come on, do you really want to sit next to zak while he lectures us on efficiency?”), you’d ended up here instead.

“you’re seriously telling me you’ve never seen shrek 2?” lando asked, his mouth half-full of pizza, his voice dripping with exaggerated disbelief.

you groaned, tossing a crust at him. “why is that so shocking? it’s not like it’s a rite of passage!”

“it is!” he shot back, dodging the crust with dramatic flair. “forget racing—this is what’s wrong with society. people skipping cinematic masterpieces.”

you rolled your eyes, unable to keep from laughing at his antics. “if you care so much, put it on.”

“fine,” he said, grabbing the remote and scrolling through the options. “but don’t say i didn’t warn you when your life changes forever.”

the movie started, but somewhere between donkey’s singing and your shared commentary, you ended up on the bed, legs tangled as you debated which animated character was the best.

“it’s obviously puss in boots,” you said, gesturing at the screen.

“no way. donkey carries the entire movie,” lando argued, his head propped on his hand as he looked at you, his dimples showing with every word.

“you just love chaos,” you teased, poking his cheek.

“true,” he said, catching your hand before you could pull away. his expression shifted slightly, his playful grin softening as his thumb brushed over your knuckles. “but i also like moments like this.”

the teasing reply you’d planned died on your lips as he leaned in, his nose brushing yours. when his lips finally met yours, it was sweet at first, a kiss that sent warmth flooding through your chest.

but then it deepened, his hands finding your waist as yours slid up to tangle in his curls. the kiss turned urgent, and soon you found yourself lying back, his weight shifting over you as his lips traveled to your jaw, then your neck.

your breath hitched, nerves suddenly rushing to the surface. you pulled back slightly, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

“lando… wait,” you said, your voice barely audible.

he stopped immediately, sitting back on his knees as he looked down at you with wide, concerned eyes. “what’s wrong? did i—did i do something?”

you shook your head quickly, sitting up. “no, it’s not you. it’s just…” you hesitated, feeling your cheeks heat. “i’ve never done this before.”

his brows furrowed for a moment before realization dawned. “you mean… like, never ever?”

you nodded, already feeling embarrassed. “yeah. never ever.”

there was a beat of silence, and then—lando burst out laughing.

you smacked his arm, your face burning. “lando! don’t laugh at me!”

“i’m not laughing at you!” he said between breaths, holding up his hands in defense. “i’m just—really? you’ve been holding out this whole time? that’s impressive!”

“impressive?” you repeated, glaring at him.

“yeah!” he said, grinning now. “i mean, i thought i was going to have to work harder for this! you’ve been playing hard to get.”

you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “this is so embarrassing.”

“hey, hey,” he said, his laughter fading as he gently pulled your hands away. “i’m sorry, i’m just surprised. but seriously—it’s not a big deal.”

“it feels like a big deal,” you muttered.

“well, it shouldn’t,” he said firmly, his tone softening. “there’s nothing wrong with waiting, and it doesn’t make you weird or anything.” he paused, a cheeky grin creeping back onto his face. “although, it does make me feel special. i mean, out of all the people in the world, you chose me.”

“don’t let it go to your head,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but smile.

“too late,” he said, leaning in to nudge your nose with his. “but seriously, we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

you looked at him for a long moment, taking in the sincerity in his eyes, the way his usually goofy demeanor had softened. slowly, you reached out, cupping his cheek. “i’m ready. if i’m going to do this, i want it to be with you.”

his expression shifted, surprise flickering across his face before it melted into a warm, slightly shy smile. “you’re sure?”

you nodded, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “i’m sure.”

lando grinned, his dimples making a reappearance as he kissed you again, his movements more deliberate this time. “alright,” he murmured against your lips. “but if you get scared, you tell me, okay?”

“okay,” you whispered, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

as the night went on, the laughter and teasing faded into something deeper, more intimate. lando was attentive, gentle, and when he whispered, “you’re amazing,” it felt like he wasn’t just talking about the moment but about you.

afterward, you lay curled against him, his arm draped over you as the credits to shrek 2 rolled in the background.

“so… was it worth missing the team dinner?” he asked, his voice filled with humor.

you laughed, burying your face in his chest. “definitely.”

“good,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “because i don’t think zak would’ve let me live it down if i brought you back late.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

oscar had always had a way of making everything feel easy. no pressure, no rush, just two people enjoying the moment. tonight, though, the tension was different, something heavier in the air as his eyes met yours with a soft intensity that made your heart race.

"hey," oscar said gently, his voice calm but with an edge of curiosity. "you okay?"

you nodded quickly, but your mind was whirling. he had that effect on you—making everything feel so natural and comfortable, but tonight, you could feel the weight of the moment. his hand brushed against yours, sending a shock through your chest, and you pulled your hand back slightly, biting your lip.

"actually," you started, your voice quieter than you’d intended, "there’s something i need to tell you."

oscar’s brows furrowed in concern, and he turned to face you fully, his body shifting to mirror yours as he gave you his undivided attention. "what is it?"

you hesitated, biting your lip as nerves bubbled in your stomach. "i’ve never…done anything like this before."

there, you said it. the words felt strange, vulnerable as they left your mouth. you could see the surprise flicker across oscar’s face, but he didn’t say anything right away. his expression softened, and instead of pulling back, he leaned in closer, gently taking your hand in his.

"you mean…" he trailed off, searching your face.

you nodded, the embarrassment creeping up your neck as you avoided his gaze. "yeah. i’ve never really… i don’t know how to do any of this."

oscar was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke, his voice was soothing, soft. "it’s okay. really, it is. there’s no pressure."

his words were like a balm to the anxiety that had suddenly surged through you. you had feared he’d think differently, but instead, he seemed genuinely relieved, even protective.

"you’re not… upset?" you asked, still unsure, a tinge of self-doubt lingering in your chest.

"upset?" he chuckled, but there was no mockery in his tone—just warmth and reassurance. "not even a little. honestly, i think it’s kind of sweet."

you blinked, surprised by his response. "sweet?"

"yeah," he grinned, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "you don’t have to know everything all at once. i like that you’re willing to take it slow. it makes this… well, it makes this special."

a sense of relief washed over you at his words, your heart lightening. the idea that he wasn’t seeing you as inexperienced or “behind” felt like a weight lifted.

"you’re really okay with this?" you asked, still half-doubting yourself.

"of course," he said softly. "if anything, i’m happy. we’re going to take it at your pace. no pressure."

oscar paused, his gaze searching yours, and you felt his sincerity in every word. the nervous energy you had been holding onto slowly began to dissipate.

you finally met his gaze, his calm eyes locking onto yours as he moved even closer, his hand gently resting on your leg. there was something about the way he was looking at you—something that told you he was as in this moment as you were.

"i want to do this," you said, your voice barely above a whisper but firm. "if i’m going to do this with anyone, i want it to be you."

oscar’s eyes widened slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "are you sure?" he asked, his voice soft, almost uncertain despite the way his hand traced small circles on your knee.

you nodded, feeling your heart race in a different way now. "yes. i trust you."

the corner of his lips lifted, and he leaned in slowly, kissing you softly, tenderly. there was no urgency, no rush. just the quiet comfort of two people wanting the same thing in the same moment.

oscar pulled away after a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed deeply. "i’m really glad it’s with you," he murmured.

"me too," you whispered back, feeling completely at ease in his arms.

the moment continued, and while things didn’t escalate immediately, there was no pressure. everything felt right because you were together, and when you were ready, oscar was more than willing to take it slow, to make sure you felt safe, comfortable, and cared for every step of the way.

and when you finally reached that point, it was nothing like you had expected. it wasn’t dramatic or rushed—it was tender, affectionate, and everything you needed.

oscar kissed your forehead, his voice soft as he said, "you did amazing, you know that?"

you smiled, nestled in the crook of his arm. "i think we both did."

and in that moment, you both knew you’d take things as slow as you wanted—together, at your pace, with no rush.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[digitallhell]

i have a folder in my computer called "just in case" where i have important documents saved, like the constitution (since trump REMOVED IT from whitehouse.gov) and books that might get banned

im obviously going to add more, if anyone has any reccomendations please let me know. just wanted to share because i think its a good idea going into these next 4+ years.

EDIT i've also added a clip of elon doing the nazi salute because its taken down a lot of places and likely will be removed everywhere. as well as screenshots of what happened when you searched "presidents in order" (it did not show biden) and "president from 2020-2024" (it showed trump) but have since been fixed

[mywritersmind]

DO NOT DISTURB - LN4

summary : In which an early morning surprise comes in the form of Max Verstappen staring at his little sister in his rivals jacket.

listen up : swearing! maxverstappenssister!reader

words : 982

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The constant banging on the door woke me up with a groan. I didn’t think before slipping out of bed, rubbing my eyes and slumping my way to the door to see dare bother me so early. I put the do not disturb on last night!

I twisted the handle, running a hand through my hair and peak my head out. Now, you know that feeling when your stomach drops on a rollarcoater? When you’re driving a little too fast and slam your foot on the break because you are not going to make that light? That feeling that you get when you get caught.

I immediately regret it.

I immediately regret it because my brother is staring at me, his mouth open and his eyes wide. I try to slam the door shut because in my groggy haze, I forgot that i’m not in my room.

The feeling of Lando’s jacket on me suddenly takes over as I scream and push my back against the door. Max fights back instantly, not letting it close as I struggle to hold him off.

“What the fuck!?” He bangs on the door, “Y/n!?”

My eyes go to the bed where a lazy figure sits up, clearly confused until Max pushes the door open, my heels dragging on the floor in a last ditch attempt to stop him.

“Shit.” Is all Lando says, practically falling out of bed and standing up. He’s in pajama pants only and normally I would grin stupidly at his naked chest but i’m pretty sure i’m about to be murdered.

“Yeah, Shit!” Max slams the door behind him as I back away quickly, “Someone better start talking!”

See, I didn’t mean to start hooking up with my brother's rival/friend! But Lando Norris had his eyes set on me and even though at the time I thought it was just for bragging rights or a one night stand, he kept coming back.

“Um…” Lando’s voice is still scratchy from sleep as he looks at me, panicked.

“We’re dating!” I say quickly as Lando’s eyes get wide and he takes a step back. Max steps forward, something new that i’ve never seen on his face. He seems to try to find words, opening and closing his mouth a hundred times with hand gestures to match.

He stops, slapping his hand against his mouth, “I told you to stay away you little-” He screams at Lando and I suddenly wonder if he’s woken up the whole floor.

“I tried but your sisters hot, mate…” This gets Lando slammed up against the wall with a bloody grin on his face.

“Lando!” I scream, not because I'm scared for him, but because he’s being a little shit about it.

He’s wanted to tell Max for months and at times, I did too! Most of our friends our suspicious or completely know but Max is my brother. And a very protective one at that.

Hence, my boyfriend slammed against a wall.

“I will fucking destroy you, Norris.”

“Go ahead, Max. But when you do I want you to imagine me coming home to a Verstappen who really likes and pittys me.” Fucking hell he’s a complete cunt and I have to pretend it’s not hot as hell.

“Will you two stop!?” Is all I say when I see Max genuinely raise a fist! He backs away from Lando and starts pacing. I look at my curly haired who has a cheeky grin on his face. “Shut it.” I mumble and come closer to my brother.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” He looks at me and it’s the first time I realize he might be genuinely hurt.

“I knew you’d react like this.” I cross my arms, getting embarrassed that my big brother is disappointed in me.

“No, I reacted like this because I came to my friend's hotel room only to find my baby sister in his clothes!” Okay so maybe I should have told him earlier…

“It’s my fault, I didn’t want to tell.” Lando cuts in.

“No, don’t.” I groan, hating taking responsibility for my own actions, “Lando wanted to tell you. He did, actually! You both may have been piss drunk but still, he really wanted to.”

“Like me more now?” I can hear the smile in Lando’s voice as my brother blinks.

“No.”

“Anyway!” I eye Lando, “We’re dating. And I know I should have told you and you’re probably pissed-”

“Definitely pissed!” Max cuts in.

“But, I really like him.” I'm actually in love with him but I think that would make Max have a heart attack.

“You.” Max points to Lando who’s eyes widen, “You ever hurt her, Please remember that we have the same job, with the same danger, except i’ve been doing this a lot longer than you. I can play anything off as a track accident.”

Lando’s face drops as he looks to me, “Did he just threaten to kill me?” I smile and nod, “You Verstappens…”

“You threaten him before?”

I nod, “All the time.”

“Good.” Max lets out a dry laugh, walking towards the door. “I’m still pissed so don’t get any ideas about PDA around me, ever!” He pointedly says to Lando. “Ugh ew, I hate you both.”

“Love you too, Maxie.” I say with a smile and a sigh of relief.

“Hey, Max.” Lando walks up behind me and I'm already worried. My brother turns, his hand on the door, “While we’re here… we have another surprise.” Lando slips his hands over his jacket, holding my stomach. I slam my foot on his as he laughs and my brother looks at us with murder in his eyes.

I can’t help but laugh, leaning back into Lando as he holds me tighter. “Go back to your room, he’s a dick, I know!”

Then, Max does something I completely didn’t expect. He smiles.

[buttercupshands]

never say never I guess

had a sudden "I want to draw them"

Lyrics from "The Last Goodbye" by Billy Boyd

also a warm up that led to this, wanted to try drawing them again and somehow got inspired a bit

[mariasont]

Laced With Love - A.H

summary: while hotch is away on a case, you do nothing but shop, and when hotch insists you use his card who are you to disobey him? especially when what you buy benefits the both of you

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader spending hotch's money (it's giving sugar daddy af), so much teasing, fingering, oral fem receiving, hotch worshipping reader, some inappropriate comments made in front of morgan accidentally, they both just completely forget about dinner and don't mention so ya know my bad, dirty talk, soft dom hotchy poo

wc: 3.5k

You had a little problem.

It all started innocently enough: one coffee to-go, a quick window shop in your favorite boutique, and somehow that led to you walking out with a bag containing the most adorable pair of heels that you couldn't leave behind. Then it snowballed—another store, another bag. A perfume counter. A cute sweater that was on sale, and, well, that one really didn't count because it was practical. It was warm. Functional, even.

Okay maybe you had a big problem.

But it wasn't until your phone buzzed in your bag, pulling you out of a deep debate over whether you needed the floral dress you were holding, that you realized just how many bags were hanging off your arms.

Mr. Bossman flashed across the screen.

The name was completely ridiculous (and more than a little outdated now that he was your boyfriend), but it fit in a weird, nostalgic way. He'd been away on one of those long-distance cases, the kind where you weren't needed, and you'd been counting the days (and minutes) until he'd call. 

You grabbed your phone so fast you almost dropped the dress.

"Hi!" you answered, a little too quickly, your voice so giddy and sugar-sweet it could've given you a toothache. He always teased you for it, but right now you didn't care.

"Hi." His voice was warm, a little rough around the edges with exhaustion. "Just wanted to call and let you know I'll be home tonight."

Your heart practically leapt at his words. "Really? Finally! I thought I was going to shrivel up and die from boredom without you here. Okay, maybe not die, but like... what's the point of anything if you're not home to tell me I bought too many candles?"

"I'm not sure how you've lasted this long," he said. "Should I be worried about the state of the house? Or your bank account?"

"First of all, rude. Second of all, if you are so worried, maybe you shouldn't leave me alone for that long. Ever thought of that, Mr?"

His laugh came through the line, short and deep, and it hit you square in the chest. You closed your eyes, leaning into the sound like it could somehow bring him closer. You could see him so clearly--the way his face softened in a way that made him look ten years younger, the way his shoulders would drop, the way his eyes would crinkle. You missed him so much it hurt.

"Poor thing," he teased, still chuckling softly. "What's a girl to do when I'm not there entertain her? Besides spend my money, I mean."

"Don't worry, Aaron, your money is perfectly safe. My super respectable paycheck—you know, the one you sign—is covering me today."

"Hmm," he said, his voice still muffled. "Sounds like your boss is paying you too much."

"I don't know... I think you're getting a pretty good deal considering I keep you very taken care of. Would you like me to prove it later?"

"Hotch, tell me I did not just hear that."

You froze mid-breath, your hand flying to cover your mouth as a wave of heat rushed to your cheeks. That was Morgan’s voice. Morgan. You felt like a cartoon character with steam pouring out of your ears as your face burned red hot.

A nervous little squeak escaped you just as you heard Aaron fumbling with the phone, his voice clipped as he said something you couldn’t quite make out. There was a muffled shuffle, the sound of a door shutting, and finally, the blessed beep that meant he’d taken you off speaker.

"Christ, honey."

You peeked through your fingers, cheeks still burning as you tried to decide if you should laugh, cry, or maybe just dig yourself a hole and live there forever.

"So," you said, hesitating for a beat, "scale of one to ten, how dead am I? Should I preemptively file an HR complaint against myself, or just let Morgan handle my inevitable downfall?”

You heard him exhale sharply, the creak of a chair following as you pictured him leaning back with that half-smile he always gave when he was equal parts amused and exasperated.

“It’s fine. It’s a little embarrassing, sure. But nothing Morgan hasn’t done to himself ten times worse. He’ll give you a hard time for a day or so, Garcia will laugh, and then they’ll let it go.”

There was brief pause, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “That being said, maybe think twice before making explicit promises while I’m at work, honey.”

You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to the shopping bag in your hand as you toyed with the strap absentmindedly.

"I mean, it's only fair I keep my promise now," you said softly, barely loud enough for him to hear. "It's the least I can do."

You heard a faint sound in the background—maybe him clearing his throat—before his voice dropped an octave. "You're already on thin ice today. Don’t make promises you can’t deliver on."

You let out a little huff, batting your lashes instinctively even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

"I don't know why you're doubting me, Mr. Hotchner. You should know I'm very serious about keeping my promises."

"You know, you're not making this easy on me, " Aaron muttered, his voice low and gruff. You could hear a faint groan, followed by what sounded like pacing on the other end. "Alright, I've really got to go now. Behave yourself. And how about you use my card for the rest of the shopping trip?"

"No, Aaron, I can't!" you said quickly, shaking your head as if he could see you. "You'd never trust me again with your card after the damage I'd do. Besides, you're already going to be shaking your head when you see what I got with my own money."

Aaron sighed, his voice going into that low, authoritative tone that always made your stomach flip.

"You will use the card." There was no room for argument in his words. "I want you to. End of discussion."

And just like that, the call ended with a click. You stared at the screen for a moment as if it might magically reopen the call so could argue your case one more time. But, of course, that didn't happen.

He’d told you to use his card—he demanded it, actually—but your fingers still hesitated, clutching the little piece of plastic like it was about to bite you.

You glanced at the white lace lingerie folded neatly on the counter, the delicate fabric practically winking at you. It wasn’t just pretty—it was the kind of perfect that made your heart flutter. Normally, you’d talk yourself out of something so indulgent, but this time? Well, Aaron had practically begged you to buy something… and you couldn’t think of a better way to treat both of you.

You only hesitated for the briefest moment before swiping his card, your heart doing a little flip as the cashier folded the lingerie into tissue paper with careful hands. It felt like a tiny secret between you and Aaron—a very fun secret.

By the time you got home, the sun had started to dip below the horizon, and you knew you had some time before Aaron made it back. He always gave you a pretty reliable ETA. It was the perks of dating someone so anal.

You lugged your shopping bags up to the bedroom, your arms aching a little, but in the best way possible. Once in the bedroom, you started unpacking everything like it was Christmas morning. Dresses went in the closet, shoes were lined up neatly, and you stashed the receipts in the nightstand just in case Aaron did ask how much damage you'd done.

Then you pulled out the piece—the one you'd bought with him in mind. The silk felt decadent under your fingertips, and the delicate lace was almost too beautiful to wear. Almost. It fit like a glove, hugging every inch of you like it had been tailored specifically for this moment. 

Feeling pleased with yourself, you made your way to the kitchen and slipped into your favorite frilly apron, tying the bow neatly at the back. Cooking wasn’t exactly your specialty, but you were determined to make this work. Pasta seemed foolproof enough (right?), and you threw together a salad and garlic bread for good measure. By some miracle, nothing caught on fire, and the kitchen actually smelled amazing.

You found yourself glancing at the clock every few minutes. When you finally heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, you glanced over your shoulder, heart skipping a beat.

"Hi honey!" you called sweetly, pretending as if standing in the kitchen wearing practically nothing was the most common thing in the world.

Aaron stepped inside, the door clicking behind him, but the second his eyes landed on you, he froze. His tie was loosened, his sleeves slightly wrinkled, and his hair looked like he’d run his fingers through it at least a dozen times today. But none of that mattered now—he stood there like he’d forgotten how to breathe, his dark eyes drinking you in.

You smiled at him, slow and innocent, brushing your hands lightly against the counter. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Sweetheart..." His voice was deeper than usual, strained and almost ragged, like he was trying to pull himself together and failing miserably.

"Yes?" you replied, acting as if you didn’t notice the way his eyes were glued to you while you turned off the burner and set the pan aside.

"What..." He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as his gaze dragged down your body, lingering shamelessly on the curve of your ass. "What are you wearing?"

You turned to face him fully, the delicate lace tugging just slightly as you moved, drawing his eyes lower without him even realizing it.

"Oh this?" you said, gesturing vaguely to the piece. "It's just something I picked up today. You told me to use your card, so I thought I'd get something you'd like."

His jaw tightened, eyes scanning you slowly before lingering on the pink bows peeking out over the apron. "You used my card on this?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, your hands gliding down the soft lace as you took a step closer, looking up at him through your lashes. "I figured it was an investment. You know, for both of us."

Aaron groaned, low and frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose for a brief second before letting his hand drop.

“Using my card for this…” His voice was rough as he closed the space between you in one long stride, his hands landing on your waist and pulling you flush against him. His lips curved into the faintest smirk as his voice dipped lower. “Was the one thing you’ve done right today. Now take this off—slowly, sweetheart—and let me see exactly what I bought.”

He pinched at the bow on your apron, his fingers tugging lightly, but you stepped back just enough to be out of his immediate reach.

“If you were that eager to see what I bought,” you teased, your fingertips grazing one of the straps of the apron, “maybe you shouldn’t have left me waiting so long.”

You slipped one strap off your shoulder, letting it fall halfway, then paused, tilting your head slightly as if daring him to come closer.

"Trying on pretty things, waiting for me to come home—must've been absolutely draining," Aaron shook his head slowly.

You pouted at him, pushing your bottom lip out just enough to make his eyes soften. He chuckled quietly, stepping closer until his hands braced the counter on either side of you, caging you in.

 "But you know what? I missed you too. And seeing you like this... makes being away feel like torture."

Your pout melted into a glowing smile as your hands found their way to his chest, your fingers brushing lightly over his shirt.

“You mean it? You really missed me?”

"Of course I did." His hands cupped your jaw gently, his thumbs brushing along your cheeks as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real. His other hand moved slowly to the bow at your waist, pulling the knot loose with an easy tug. "Now, angel, let me see what else I've been missing."

The apron slipped to the ground, forgotten, as Aaron’s eyes locked onto you. He blinked once, then twice, his expression unreadable except for the slight parting of his lips, like he’d been robbed of air.

His gaze traveled over you like a slow caress, taking in the way the lace hugged your curves, teasing him with everything it didn’t quite cover. His eyes lingered on your chest, where the sheer fabric exposed the peaks of your nipples, and you caught the subtle hitch in his breath as he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching slightly.

You tilted your head, letting your expression soften into something sweetly innocent as you leaned back against the counter. The lace shifted with the movement, exposing just enough to make his jaw tighten. Then, just for a second, you parted your legs, catching his sharp inhale as you gave him a soft, almost shy smile.

When he realized what wasn't under the lace, his eyes snapped back up to yours. Without a word, he dropped to his knees, hands sliding over your thighs until they rested just above your knees.

A soft gasp escaped your lips, heart skipping several beats as you stared down at him. You hadn't expected this. Not the way his knees hit the floor like it was second nature, not the way his palms spread wide against your skin, thumb brushing over the curve of your inner thighs as he looked up to you.

He must be exhausted, that was your only explanation. But then his hands pressed harder into your thighs, and the thought evaporated. His eyes weren't clouded with exhaustion—they were focused, like he was memorizing every inch of you. 

Your stomach twisted sharply, your legs suddenly feeling like they couldn’t hold you upright anymore. He was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. That singular thought settled in your chest, blooming like a flower, before curling low in your belly, leaving you breathless.

His lips grazed your thigh in the softest of touches, like he was savoring the moment. Slowly, he pressed another kiss, firmer this time, his fingers tightening around your thighs as his grip became more insistent. He kissed you again, higher and slower, his nose grazing your skin, breath fanning over you. A deep, contented hum rumbled from his chest.

"What have I done," he murmured, his voice rasping like the words have been pulled from his chest, "to deserve this? To deserve you?"

His eyes flickered up to meet yours. "Tell me, angel, because I'd do it a hundred times over if it meant to have you like this."

You wanted to tell him everything—the depth of your love, how he made you feel like the luckiest person alive—but the words lodged in your throat.

"Aaron... I... you're just..." you stammered, voice trembling as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter. 

Before you could gather your thoughts, he lifted one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder, fingers digging into your skin. His lips brushed higher, dangerously close to your exposed cunt, and a soft, broken sound escaped you.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration shooting straight through you. 

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" His breath was hot against your thigh. "You always have so much to say. Don’t tell me you’re out of words already. I haven’t even started.”

"I was going to tell you how—oh, gosh, Aaron—"

Your words you had been trying to string together scattered completely, replaced by a shaky moan as his mouth pressed firmly against your clit. Your breathing stuttered, your chest rising and falling as waves of pleasure coursed through you, drowning out every thought but him.

His mouth was everywhere—warm, insistent, and impossibly skilled as his tongue traced over your clit with maddening precision. He worked like a man possessed, drawing sounds from you that you didn't even know you were capable of making. He was too good at this—too good at knowing exactly where and how to touch you, too good at making you fall apart with just his mouth.

Then he shifted, his hand gripping your other thigh as he lifted your second leg over his shoulder, leaving you completely at his mercy. The sound you made was somewhere between a gasp and a moan, your hands flying to his hair as your head tipped back.

Your back pressed against the edge of the counter awkwardly, a dull ache building in your lower spine, but it was nothing compared to the torrent of pleasure radiating through you. His tongue moved in devastating accuracy, his hands gripping your thighs like he was gluing you to himself. Your chest moved in shaky breaths, his name slipping from your lips in trembling cries that you couldn’t hold back.

"If I'd known this would be my reward," you gasped, tugging hard at his hair, your words faltering as your head tipped back. "I'd have emptied your whole wallet—oh, fuck—“

His lips closed firmly around your clit, pulling firmly in a way that destroyed your sentence completely. His hands tightened on your thighs, keeping you locked exactly where he wanted you.

"You must really mean it if you're cursing now." His tongue flicked over you again, making your back arch sharply. "Didn’t know you had that in you... let’s see what else I can get you to say, angel."

A warm flush spread up your neck and into your cheeks, heat rising faster than you could control. "I didn't mean to--"

You were cut off once again as his finger slid into your pussy. Any trace of embarrassment was gone, swept away by the overwhelming need pooling deep in your core, leaving nothing but raw desire in its place.

The pressure, coiling low in your stomach, was building so fast you could barely keep up with it. Every tell-tale sign was there—the trembling of your thighs, the way your chest shuddered in shallow breaths, and most incriminating of all, the words spilling from your lips before you could even think about them.

"I love you," you gasp, the desperation clear as ever. "I love you so much, I love you—Aaron, oh—"

He groaned against your clit, his tongue pressing hard as though your words were the fuel he needed to pull you apart completely. His finger curled again, hitting that spot that made you vision blur. His eyes flicked up, and you could tell he knew exactly what was happening. He always knew.

"I know, angel," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. "Now show me just how much."

Your orgasm hit you with staggering intensity, a wave of heat and pleasure crashing through you that left every inch of your body trembling. Your breath came in uneven, stuttering gasps as his name spilled from your lips, over and over, like a mantra you couldn’t stop repeating.

"That's my girl," Aaron murmured, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin as his finger worked you through the waves.

His lips pressed on last kiss to your thigh before he straightened, his hands immediately wrapping around your waist like he predicted you'd collapse without him. As soon as he lifted you, you clung to him like your life depended on it (and in that moment you were sure it did), your arms winding around his neck.

Everything felt distant, like you were floating somewhere above yourself. Your head rested limply on his shoulder, your lips brushing against the side of his neck. Your fingers curled weakly against the fabric of his shirt, and for a fleeting moment, you weren’t even sure your body had substance anymore—you felt soft, boneless, entirely his.

Aaron tapped the back of your thigh gently. "Come on, sweetheart, up."

You tried—really, you did—but your body wasn't cooperating. Your legs dangled uselessly, and you let out a soft, half-laugh, half-whisper. "Can't."

He huffed a quiet laugh. 

"Hopeless," he teased. He hoisted you up before you could process it, his shoulder pressing into your stomach as he flipped you over it. A surprised squeak escaped you, but his hand was already bracing your thigh as he started up the stairs. "I guess I'll just have to do all the work, as usual."

"You're so strong," you mumbled dreamily, your head lolling against his shoulder. "Like... disgustingly strong. It’s so hot."

Aaron laughed, his hand smacking your ass. "Keep talking like that, sweetheart and I'll start using you for my next workout routine. And I guarantee it'll be something you'll feel tomorrow."

"Mr. Hotchner!" you gasped, your voice half-indignant and half-giggling. "And you act like I’m the inappropriate one in this relationship!"

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head as he carried you into the bedroom. He lowered you down, tossing you onto the bed just hard enough to make you bounce lightly against the mattress. You let out a soft laugh, body sinking into the covers as you looked up at him. 

“The difference is, I have the good sense not to say things like that on speakerphone.”

You let out a small laugh, raising your eyebrows. “And you should have the good sense not to trust me on speakerphone. Really, Aaron, rookie move.”

He stood tall at the edge of the bed, his fingers slowly loosening the top button of his shirt as he tilted his head. "“That’s fine. We’ll call it even—after you make good on that promise."

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[evie-sturns]

nerve - Matt Sturniolo

summary: matt has the worst attitude all day, and when you two finally get home he has the nerve to ask you to touch him which you obviously deny, making him get himself off infront of you.

contains: sub!matt, male masturbation, slighttt humiliation, teasing, matt with an attitude, pathetic!matt, swearing, fluff.

------------------------------------------------------------

7:32pm

matt sits beside me in bed, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as i scroll through my phone. i'm wearing nothing but a small brandy melville pyjama set. matts favourite.

on a quiet night alone with matt like tonight, we'd usually be pouncing on eachother the first chance we get, but were not.

matt knows he's been acting up all day, with the snarky comments, stubborn demeanour and the most bratty attitude.

matt lets out a small whine, he clears his throat slightly as he rolls over closer to me.

"'m hard.." he mumbles, his lap pressed firmly against my thigh,

"i can tell." i whisper back, putting down my phone and looking over at him.

he buries his flushed face into my shoulder, another strangled noise leaving his lips.

"what is it matt?" i sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"it hurts.." he groans himself, looking up at me

"well how about you sort yourself out in the bathroom yeah?" i speak, staring into his big round eyes,

"h-help myself? but-" he glances down at the tent in his lap, "but youre here and i cant-"

"what am i gonna do about that matt?' i ask, earning another loud whine from him as he desperetly palms himself through the thick fabric of his sweatpants. "i dont think you deserve my tocuh after how much of a brat you've been today?" i follow up.

"but- but i do..." matt protests, "i really- please let me.." he speaks as his face falls with disapointment

"im not rewarding your behaviour matt, so im gonna give you some options yeah?" i whisper, trying to ignore the needy look in his eyes.

"fine!" he groans.

"you can help yourself here, in the bathroom, or just not cum at all yeah? but im not touching you." i speak,

"no!" he tries to protest,

"you dont wanna finish? thats fine by me, your choice baby." i speak,

"but- i do- ugh! fine okay!" he babbles before tugging down his sweatpants,

my eyes widen, not expecting him to actually do something about his situation.

he pants heavily as he tugs down his boxers to his mid thighs,

"dont- dont laugh," he croaks out,

"'not gonna laugh at you hon." i assure him, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth,

his pale skin flushes beet red, he looks completley and utterly humiliated.

"okay- okay- just- right.. okay." he rambles,

his brunette hair falls infront of his eyes as he looks down at his lap, gently moving his hand towards his erection.

"okay- just- yeah.. okay shut up.." he whispers,

"im not saying anything!" i giggle,

"yeah- but youre thinkin' it!" he bites back playfully,

he suddenly wraps his long, pale fingers around his girth. his tip is a raw pink, oozing precum.

he purses his lips tight, being sure to not let any noises slip, after all, he didnt wanna look more pathetic, did he?

i see his eyes flutter shut as he squeezes himself once, before gently moving his hand over his tip.

i see his leg twitch slightly,

i stare intensley, causing matt to get even more worked up.

"s-stop- stop lookin' at me-" he croaks out, his voice high pitched and whiny.

"shh," i whispers, pressing a finger to his plump red lips.

he moves his hand under my mouth, "can you please- spit-" he asks, i shake my head,

"told you, 'm not doing anything for you after this big attitude you've built up." i remind him,

his eyebrows knit together with frustration, "you're bein' so mean!" he mutters,

"what was that?" i ask,

"nothing."

i see him spit in his palm, gently running the same hand down his length, one of his fingers tracing the long vein on the side of his cock.

"feels- feels so good." he whimpers,

he gently starts to pump himself, his hand sliding over his tip.

he gnaws on his bottom lip before looking up at me through his eyelashes, i continue to sit on the bed to his side as he lays down against the large pile of silky pillows.

hes dead silent, desperately trying to hold back his noises.

"you're allowed to make noises you know, 'm not judging you,"

"yeah- but its so- embarrassing. i dont want to- i dont know let go like that." he grunts, his eyes fluttering closed.

"its just me hon, ive heard everything before." i assure, him, gently running my long acrylic nales over the soft skin of his lower tummy.

"i- i dont want anyone to hear!" he says, his resolve rapidly crumbling,

“i’m the only one here baby, everyone else is out,” i assure him,

suddenly a loud moan rips out of him, his back arching off the bed.

“there we go, good boy.” i coo, keeping my hand on his lower stomach.

he keeps his fist firmly around his shaft, moving his hand up and down rapidly as his eyebrows pinch together.

“oh fuck-“ he whines, his movements getting faster.

i see him look up at me through narrow eyes, his cheeks completely red.

“so fuckin’ pathetic.” i laugh, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“stop- ‘m not! you said you wouldn’t la-laugh!” he whimpers, desperately tugging at his sensitive skin.

“why do you think i’d do what you want matt? you’ve been so bitchy all day.” i sigh,

“mm! i haven’t!” he protests,

i drag my thumb over his swollen tip, before instantly pulling my hand back.

a loud moan escapes his lips, “ah- ahh.. please do that again!”

i shake my head,

“i need to cum- s-so bad- but- but can’t!” his voice his so high it’s almost amusing, he is just so pathetic.

“mm? can’t cum without my help?” i ask, a teasing tone clear in my voice.

“i- i can! i- i-“ matt’s thighs trembles as he throws his head back.

“just- just say anything!- please- please oh fuck-“ he follows up, his hand reaching out and grabbing my thigh

he digs his fingertips into my thigh as his raw tip dribbles with precum, the clear liquid running down his tip onto his hand.

“anything?” i whisper,

“cum- cum!” he squeals, my one word tipping him over.

strings of white spurt out of him, landing directly on his tummy, which is rising and falling rapidly with his panting.

he stops his movements with his hand, which is now coated in his own release.

“there he is, so so good.” i coo, pressing a kiss to his tip.

a small gasp exits his mouth,

i kitten lick the head of his cock once more, his salty taste present on my tongue before pulling my head away. he groans from overstimulation as his fingers dig into the soft plush skin of my thigh

he’s fully hard again.

“please, please- i’m hard again- you’re gonna touch me this time?”

i shake my head with a small grin, running my hand through his silky hair.

“but-!” he starts but i cut him off.

“no buts, you’ve been such a brat all day,” i start,

“now cmon, pull up your sweats, you’re not cumming again today.” i instruct him, earning a frustrated whine from him as he follows my instructions.

-

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[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 9 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: He shows you a softer side of him. Until he doesn’t.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, smut, rough sex, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, knife, over-stimulation, bondage, degradation kink, dom/sub dynamics, daddy, age gap, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

"How old are you, actually?"

He raised a brow, but didn't yet look up from his newspaper. You could tell you had piqued his interest by the way his eyes crinkled into a smile. It even seemed genuine to a certain degree.

You sat beside him and watched him with a keen eye, not hiding that you were staring at him.

"Is there a reason why you want to know?"

You shook your head. "You won't tell me your name or anything else about you that matters. At least give me that."

He hummed softly. "I'm forty-five." He finally looked up from the paper and regarded you with mild amusement. "Is that a problem?"

You shook your head again. It indeed wasn't. You had long guessed that he was quite a bit older than you, but to you he didn't come off like a lecherous old man who was after young women to keep him young and moist.

He was simply...older.

Not old.

"No, I guess not."

He looked back down at the paper, while you kept shifting on the couch beside him restlessly.

He managed to successfully ignore your restlessness for a minute, before he sighed and set the paper down.

"I know I will regret this, but what is going on?"

"Have you been with many women before?"

The ridiculousness of the question didn't just surprise him. To your own ears, the question sounded even sillier spoken out loud. But you couldn't help it.

The question kept tormenting your mind and it had been doing so for days. You had to ask or you would go insane. Even more so than you already were.

You couldn't tell why the thought of him with someone else made you feel like you were in the worst humanly possible pain, but it did.

It made you feel like you were slowly suffocating under the weight of a thousand stones.

And how pointless was it?

It was in the past. You were the future, right?

Good God, what were you even thinking about?

"Are you jealous?"

He didn't even try to mask the amusement in his voice. For some reason that made everything even worse. Of course you were being fucking ridiculous.

Your face flushed a deep shade of crimson and you looked down at your hands. "I'm not jealous." You murmured.

Despite not even looking at him, you could sense the wide, unhinged grin that took possession of his face.

"You are." He said victoriously. "You're jealous over me."

You narrowed your eyes and tried to come up with something sharp and witty, but the truth was simply that.

You were jealous.

More so, your body stood in flames of wild, raging jealousy.

"Aw, come on. I was just teasing you." He tipped your chin up. "Don't pout."

You forced yourself to keep your eyes on him. His expression had softened somewhat, but there was still a hint of amusement and satisfaction in his eyes. You hated him.

Especially did you hate his eyes.

Even more so when they softened.

You hated everything about him. The way he moved and looked so effortlessly sexy when he did. The way he looked whenever he stood in the kitchen, flipping the pan around like a professional chef. You had once caught yourself staring at him when he tossed a grape in the air and tried to catch it with his mouth. He had failed miserably. At first it hit his cheek and then it landed on the ground, before it rolled under the fridge. Something rather inelegant, coming from such a dashing man.  The way he looked at the grape and then at you, looking caught in the act. The way his lips curved into that delicious smile. Almost sheepishly.

Almost innocent.

“It’s your fault. Your presence is distracting to me.”

Your heart ached when you realized it.

You didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. But you tried to. God, how hard you tried.

“Can you just answer the question?” You murmured.

He hummed and looked to the side in thought. “I’m not sure how many it were. I didn’t exactly keep count.”

Awful.

“Were all of them victims to your incomparable abduction skills?”

He smirked. Your relationship had come a long way. Now you were allowed to tease him, without having to expect a punishment in return.

Sometimes.

It depended on his mood. And by now, you had gotten pretty good at telling when he was in a good mood and when he was to be avoided and obeyed.

It was easier to be attentive when your health was at stake.

Or your life.

“No”, he mused with a strange sense of sincerity, “and also you came along willingly.”

You scoffed. “You’re even crazier than I thought. Or just fairly ignorant.”

He laughed. God, you hated when he laughed.

It was so easy to lose yourself in the sound of it.

“Whatever it was, you’re here now. And as for these other women…It doesn’t matter how many they were, none of them held any meaning to me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. But you did? You meant something to him?

You couldn’t ask him that. As much as you wanted, your lips couldn’t form those words. Your fear of being mocked or rejected was far too great. The thought of him making fun of you for so obviously falling in love with him, him, your tormentor, him, your bane, your curse, your horror. It  was terrifying to you.

He would never love you. He was incapable of having these kind of feelings. Of course, he had never said that. But you could tell. People like him had obsessions. No more. No less.

You were just something pretty for him, something to put on his shelf and look at with a satisfied smile. Something to use when he got bored or excited. And then you’d go on the shelf again. And by the time you became boring to him, by the time your beauty would begin to fade and signs of age and life would show on your face or the color of your hair, you’d be gone.

Gone like the wind or the ocean breeze. You’d be gone and he’d obsess over something else.

The thought made your heart ache with such fervor, it nearly made you cry, then and there. And what was the worst about it? The thought of him killing you, it didn’t hurt you half as much as the thought of him replacing you.

You had always known you had a weakness within you. Something that might accept when things got worse, something that refused to fight at some point and simply gave up. You had experienced it with your mother.

You just didn’t know how deep this weakness ran.

When he saw the distant look in your eyes, his amusement faded and was replaced by something softer. He frowned slightly and held out his hand to you.

“Come.” He murmured. “Come, sit on my lap.”

Reluctantly you took his hand and let him pull you on his lap. You straddled his thigh and faced him, but the expression on your face was still one of silent sadness.

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, before he cupped your cheek in his palm. The softness. There was the softness again. You swallowed the lump in your throat.

You hated him the most when he was gentle.

“But you’re not like that.” He said quietly.

When your brows furrowed in a mixture of quiet disbelief and uncertainty, he shook his head and gently trailed his thumb down your cheek. His touch was so gentle, it made something in your chest ache. Your heart, most likely.

His eyes glowed in that soft brown and you felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He whispered. “I know that I’m deranged, sweet girl. I know I’m probably not what you ever anticipated for your life. But one thing about me is steadfast and true. I’m honest.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you inhaled a shaky breath. “So?” You murmured.

“So…” He murmured back as he gently placed his free on your hip to steady you. “I don’t think about anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Why?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

“Because, sweet girl”, he purred and leaned closer to brush a soft kiss along your cheek, “Because I say so.”

Your eyes slowly fell shut and you felt yourself lean into his embrace. It felt good to be held by him. It felt safe, which was ironic enough.

He slowly slid his fingertips under your shirt and up your spine. It was one of the best things about him. He never ran them up your waist. He always skipped your waist.

The word mouse was as dead as Latin in these halls.

And he always asked if you had eaten already and when you lied, he could tell.

Never before had you met someone so attentive. When he wasn’t angry with you or angry because of anything else, he was the perfect man.

The way he looked at you was enough to make you swoon. The way he touched you enough to make you shiver.

The way he kissed his way from your cheek down to your neck made you gasp every time. And even when he ravaged you, he somehow always made sure to check if you were still there. You never got the chance to detach and stare at the ceiling, stare at the wall, stare at the floor. He caught your gaze, tipped your chin up and made sure that you were there.

That you wanted to be there.

And you didn’t have to say when you didn’t. He caught on that, too.

And then he’d let you sleep.

Or read.

“Are you tired?” He whispered with a soft nip to your earlobe.

The sigh that came over your lips was involuntary. A part of your mind was still hung up on the women. The women who had been there before you.

Were they prettier? Probably.

Were they normal? Most likely.

Did they make him happy?

Was he ever happy?

Was he even able to be happy? Did deranged people get a happy ending? Or even a happy middle? Maybe a very happy start?

There was something dead inside of him. You couldn’t tell if it was his heart, his soul or something else. But it was there. Just like there was something dead inside of you.

But sometimes you asked yourself if it was really dead or if maybe, just maybe, it had simply been asleep up until then.

You nodded slowly. You were always tired. That was part of being depressed and he caught on that, as well.

“I could run you a bath, sweet girl.” He murmured against your skin as he slowly rubbed his palms against your bare back under your shirt. It made you shiver and only ever press closer to him. “Or I could cook something for you.”

You shook your head.

“Are you still sad?” He whispered in your ear.

You swallowed again and nodded. Were you ever not sad?

He hummed thoughtfully. “Go get daddy your favorite book.”

The way your heart skipped a beat was almost audible. It always caught you off-guard when he did that. To refer to himself as daddy was bad enough in the bedroom, but when he did it like that, just out of nowhere, it made your skin flush in embarrassment. Yet at the same time, your heart raced. He wasn’t the only one deranged.

“My favorite book?” You whispered, sounding more breathless than anticipated.

He nodded. “Your favorite book from the shelf.”

With a slow, deliberate movement you climbed off of his lap and slowly moved towards the book shelf. You felt his gaze burn into your back. As much as it made you shiver and shudder, it also had something comforting about it. The way he sat leaned back against the couch, one arm draped over it and his ankle resting on his knee. God, he was perfect.

You swallowed and your eyes slowly raked over the rows of books until they stopped on Jane Eyre. It wasn’t your favorite book in the world, but it gave you comfort. All Bronte-sisters did. Getting a glimpse of their mind always made you feel like you weren’t the only sad and complicated person in the world. There had been others before and there’d be more long after you were gone.

You slowly picked it up and made your way back to him. He took the book from you and patted his lap.

“Lay your head here.”

Your eye brows rose, but you didn’t protest. Instead you curled up on the couch and carefully rested your head on his thigh. Before you even fully settled down, he buried his fingers in your hair and gently threaded them through the length of it. You suppressed a quiet, contented sigh. And when you heard his soft voice as he began to read, so gentle and composed, it made your eyes snap shut.

“There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning, but since dinner the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so…”

You couldn’t even properly focus on his words. All you could think about were his hands in your hair, his soft voice and the warmth radiating off of him.

You lay like that, listening to the soft sounds of him reading Jane Eyre to you, until you felt like you might fall asleep any second. Which was exactly what you did.

It didn’t even take all too long.

There was a part of your mind that expected to wake up with a blade against your throat or Hell – not even wake up at all.

But you couldn’t help it. The trust came on its own. It was hard not to trust him when he was like that. Caring and gentle and concerned.

You had a dreamless sleep and by the time your eyes fluttered open, you felt better rested than you had in forever. You slowly blinked and tilted your head up to see where you were and what was going on. What you saw was him, the book tightly shut beside him and you found he was staring down at you. His expression was still soft and his hand still in your hair. You blinked slowly.

“How long did I sleep?” You murmured hoarsely.

He glanced down at his watch. “About an hour and a half.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Why?” He mused. “You needed it.”

“But wasn’t that uncomfortable?” You yawned softly and rubbed your eyes, something that made him smile.

“No, sweetness. You look endearing when you sleep. I could watch you all day.”

A soft flush crept up your cheeks and you averted your gaze. You felt as embarrassed as you felt in love.

You were sure by now. There was no point in lying to yourself. You were in love with him.

And you were certain, given enough time, he’d break your heart.

Or your bones.

Whatever came first.

The rest of the evening was just as peaceful. You sat at the kitchen table and watched as he cooked something you couldn’t even come close to pronouncing. When he still tried to teach you and you made a fool of yourself, he smiled in amusement and something akin to pride.

“You’ll learn it one day.”

He was so patient at times. And at other times…

You finished dinner and stood in the bathroom, brushing your teeth. It was such a normal thing. A normal Sunday. Brushing your teeth to go to bed, a silken nightgown kissing your skin while you did.

He spoiled you. You knew that. He brought home more and more and more clothes. One piece more beautiful than the other. And as much you always assumed you’d look like an idiot wearing them, because you just weren’t the kind of girl for silk and beautiful things, you ended up loving them all. It made you feel beautiful.

He made you feel beautiful.

You rinsed your mouth and washed your face, pat dried it with a fluffy towel and shot a last glance at yourself in the mirror. You looked nothing like the girl who had begged her mother to stop being so cruel. And at the same time, you looked just like her.

Like a girl playing dress-up, but her sad eyes stayed the same.

The faint mark on your cheek was still there, reminding you subtly of what he was capable of. Not even close to what he was supposedly capable of. You sighed and turned off the lights, before you quietly tiptoed through the dark hallway. You were already on your way to your bedroom, when you saw that his door stood slightly open. There was a faint light that illuminated through the hallway and you couldn’t help yourself. You stopped and stared at the door, unsure what to do. Should you go in? Or should you go to your own room and loose yourself in your thoughts?

But before you could think about it, the door opened and revealed his form in no more than his boxers. God, he was perfect.

You were certain you had never seen a more handsome man in your life. Even when he was angry and when you hated him. He was still so fucking perfect.

“Join me.” He purred. You knew what that meant. And even though he didn’t say it, you still knew. You had a choice. Even though he had made abundantly clear, he’d fuck you even when you didn’t feel like it (something that hadn’t happened so far), today you had the choice.

You could go to your own bed and sleep in peace. His soft voice revealed that.

Instead you slowly stepped forward until you stood in the middle of his bedroom. The red notebook on the bed caught your attention and immediately you felt a knot form in your stomach. The cruel reminder of the day he cut your hair and attempted to give you a new name. You swallowed and slowly looked up at him. He caught your gaze and his own landed on the book. Something in his eyes hardened briefly, but he quickly concealed it. He closed the door and went over to the bed, where he picked up the notebook and tossed it under the bed, where it landed with a soft thud.

He was still angry. You had snuck in his room and invaded his privacy.

You had disobeyed him.

He didn’t care that so many things had changed since then.

You had disobeyed him. And he hadn’t forgotten. He probably never would.

He forced a soft sigh over his lips, obviously trying to calm himself down.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly. Probably a stupid thing to do, but to you, it felt right.

He shook his head. “Don’t.” His voice was firm and measured, as he stepped closer. The lion walk.

He stopped when his chest nearly touched yours and you were forced to look up at him.

The memory of the gentle reading and your nap in the living room wavered in your head. You were sure he was going to make you forget about it real soon.

As if on cue, he wrapped a hand around your throat and made you gasp. With a low growl, he leaned in and captured your lips in a rough kiss, forcing your mouth open and his tongue inside.

An involuntary moan slipped out of your mouth and against his. And when his hand squeezed tighter, you moaned again. He pushed you back until you hit the wall.

“Get on your fucking knees and crawl over to the bed.” He gritted out.

Your chest heaved rapidly. You couldn’t tell if he was still angry about the notebook or if his outburst had another reason. A more carnal one. Whatever it was, you slowly slid to your hands and knees and began to crawl over to the bed. By the time you reached it, he appeared behind you and put a hand on the back of your neck, pushing your face down against the mattress.

You gasped again and rolled your head over, so he wouldn’t smother you. To your surprise, he let you.

He used his free hand to push two of his fingers in your mouth, making you gag by the sudden intrusion and the intensity of it. This time, he didn’t use them to bruise your throat. Instead he pulled them out and swiftly slid them between your legs from behind.

You whimpered softly as he forced your legs apart and ran his fingers along your already damp panties.

“What is this?” He growled. “Didn’t I tell you not to fucking wear these at night?”

You swallowed. Uh-oh.

“I-“

“No.” He hissed out and spun you around, so that the back of your head landed on the mattress and you sat down on the floor. “Take them off.”

You swallowed and moved quickly to slide the panties off of you. You held them in your hand awkwardly, unsure what the hell to do. He looked so furious, it made you nervous.

He yanked them away from you. Then he used one hand to roughly grasp your chin and force your mouth open and the other one he used to force the soaked panties into your mouth.

You inhaled sharply and stared up at him with wide eyes. Of course it was degrading. And yet you felt yourself grow more and more wet.

“On your stomach.” He gritted out. “Now.”

You took a shaky breath and quickly scurried around to lay on your stomach.

“Good girl. You’re finally listening.”

He went over to the wardrobe and rummaged through it, until he found what he was looking for. His belt. Oh, you had a bad feeling yet again.

“P-please.” You gasped out, but it was muffled against the fabric in your mouth.

“Shut up.” He said sharply.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God-

You had a strange and unpleasant Deja-vu, thinking about your mother and her creative ways of punishment.

But he didn’t use the belt to hit you. Instead he used it to tie up your wrists. You nearly sighed in relief, but you knew better than to do that. You knew what that might bring.

So you simply lay still and let him tie you up like that.

You felt incredibly helpless in this position, but the thrill of it was strong enough to make you drip. You closed your eyes.

“You’re such a bad girl.” He murmured. “Always sneaking around, doing things you shouldn’t, huh? Is that how you’re trying to please me? With disobedience?” He scoffed. “You just never learn, do you?”

He crouched down before you and regarded you with a long, scrutinizing look. You almost expected him to slap you. But instead you witnessed how he slowly sucked on his fingers, the ones he had pushed in your mouth just a minute ago. The sight stirred something deep within you and you shifted on the bed.

“Bad girl needs to learn her lesson.” He purred.

Before you even knew it, he was already rubbing his fingers over your wetness and circling your clit in a way that made you moan. Again, he knew just where to touch you. A thought that filled you with as much jealousy as it did pleasure. But somehow, the jealousy always won.

“Does that feel good?” He murmured. You nodded eagerly, squirming and arching against his hand, desperately seeking the friction that would bring you to oblivion.

He hummed softly and kept moving his fingers, only ever picking up the pace. “Like that, baby? Do you like that, hm?”

You moaned again and buried your face in the pillow, not even caring about the piece of clothing in your mouth, until he sharply removed his hand. You let out a whine and raised your head just enough to see the satisfied smirk on his lips.

“You didn’t think I’d make it that easy, huh? Oh, you’re severely mistaken, princess.”

And just like that his hand was back, resuming the movement and having you writhe in a mixture of agony and pleasure.

“Please.” You muffled out again. You were more than ready to cum, your hips twitching treacherously. And he withdrew his hand again, a mock pout on his face.

“Sweet girl is so desperate for me to let her cum.” He hummed. “Be a good girl and beg daddy to let you cum.”

You swallowed thickly, which wasn’t too easy with your panties still in your mouth. “Please let me cum, daddy.”

The embarrassment was still there, your face still flushed, but you didn’t care one bit. You needed this, needed him.

“I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Please”, you begged again, “please let me cum, daddy.”

He smirked. “I don’t think you deserve that yet. First you’ll be a good girl for me.”

Your hands strained against the leather of the belt against your own will, but it didn’t help anything. You were still tied and helpless. So you simply nodded.

You licked your lips which had dried out, when he finally freed your mouth.

“Who are you?”

You slowly looked up at him. “Your girl.” You whispered.

He hummed in agreement. “What else are you?”

Your face flushed deeply when you thought about what he wanted to hear. “I…”

“Say it.” He said in a more demanding tone and grasped your chin in a bruising grip again.

“Your cumslut.” You said quietly, but it was barely audible. It seemed good enough for him, because he didn’t insist you repeated it.

“Good girl.” He whispered and gently ran his thumb over your lips. “Spread your legs for me, my good girl. I want to fuck you. Make space for daddy.”

Your face flushed even more, but you obeyed. You slowly parted your thighs, making space for him. You took a shaky breath when you felt him settle behind you on the bed, one hand grasping at your wrists, the other one pressed into the mattress next to your face, so he wouldn’t crush you under his weight.

You hadn’t even realized when he’d stripped off his boxers, until you felt the tip of his cock rub along your entrance. A needy whine came over your lips and you closed your eyes.

“Beg me for it, baby.” He whispered in your ear from behind. A shiver ran down your spine and you held back a moan, when he began to rub his cock over your core in a torturously slow movement. You were so wet and ready and yet he held himself back.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You whispered, unable to open your eyes. You were so ashamed and embarrassed that it nearly choked the words silent on your tongue, but you still forced them out.

“Louder.”

You swallowed thickly. “Please.” You managed. “Please fuck me, daddy. Please, let me feel you.” You were surprised by how desperate you sounded.

Even more so by how desperate you felt.

“That’s my good girl.” In a swift movement, he thrusted forward and filled you to the brim, not giving you a moment to adjust to his size, before he began to fuck into you. You head fell forward and you released a breathless moan against the pillow.

It was a mixture of pleasure and pain, but the pain subsided quickly, when he began to hit the sweet spot inside of you as if he was desperate to make you cum as quickly as possible. He had never taken you from behind before and you had no idea how incredible it felt. Every thrust hit the right spot and it didn’t take you longer than a few seconds until you felt the need inside you build up intensely.

“Oh God.” You breathed out. “Oh God, please.”

He grunted in your ear, a sound that made you all the more aroused. The sound of his quick breaths and the way they hit your ear was almost too much. And when he bit down on your earlobe hard enough to make you cry out in pain, it was too much and you came.

You came with an intensity that made it impossible for you to stay quiet. You cried out in a way that sounded surprising to your own ears. You had never been much of a moaning girl, but that was too good. Too hard.

Too much.

The pleasure quickly shifted into over-stimulation when he didn’t stop thrusting into you, even after your walls clenched around him. He moaned again and you bit down on the pillow, your legs trembling furiously.

“Please.” You gasped out. “Please. Too much-“

“Good.” He growled and began to fuck into with even more intensity. You were close to crying, it felt almost painful, but at the same time you could tell you were almost getting there again.

“I beg you.” You cried out. “I’m begging you. Please.”

“Yes, beg me, my little cumslut.” He groaned in your ear as he kept moving furiously. “It won’t make me stop.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and your hips twitched again, desperate to get away. You strained against the binds again, but he just held your wrists tighter. Until he released them and instead pushed two fingers in your mouth.

“Spit.” He hissed.

You moaned against him and tried to obey, but it was hard with someone thrusting his fingers in your mouth as if trying to hit the back of your throat. You spat down on them and coated them in your saliva, until you felt him pull them out and instead rub your clit with his slick fingers again.

You nearly screamed when he did and you felt the excitement burn up again, until you were almost ready to cum. But you were afraid, afraid that he’d keep going until you couldn’t take any more, until you’d start crying and even bleeding maybe.

“Please.” You cried out again, your voice breaking with every thrust.

“Shut up.” He hissed as he rubbed your clit in a way that made it impossible for you to shut up.

“What are you?”

“Your cumslut.” You cried out.

“My cumslut.” He gritted out again. He was so furious. So angry. And he was keen on taking it out on you. Before you knew it, his hand wrapped around your throat tightly again. “I’ll punish if you cum before I tell you to.”

Your eyes shot open and you nearly choked. You gasped for air. He wasn’t kidding. You knew he would. You tried your best not to, but it was near impossible.

“Please-“

Your body betrayed you. And you came. With his hand around your throat and a loud, shuddery gasp, you came.

Your walls clenched around him again, something that made him moan out and the sound only intensified the feeling inside of you.

When your body stopped trembling, his movements stilled and he pulled his hand away.

“You disobeyed. Stupid girl.”

“Please, I didn’t want-“

He pulled back roughly and stood up, standing beside the bed and staring down at you with wide, crazed eyes.

“Gun or knife. Choose.”

Oh God.

You felt the way the blood seemed to leave your face and your brain. You opened your mouth and closed it several times. Was he going to kill you? Was this the end?

Did he make you cum, just to kill you?

Had he only read to you, because this was your last day on earth?

When he said you meant something to him, was that a lie?

Were you just his to torment, his to get rid of?

You felt tears sting your eyes. You wanted to cry and beg and plead. You immediately missed the man he had been three hours ago. The man you fell in love with. The husband type of guy. The silly man, who didn’t catch the grape.

“Please.” You whispered and your voice cracked.

“If you don’t choose”, he gritted out, “I will.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and you rolled over just enough to face him fully. Suddenly you were more than thankful that he didn’t rip your pretty nightdress off when he began to fuck you. Dying naked sounded even more horrifying to you. Dying was bad enough. But naked?

“I-“

“Too late.” He bit out.

He rummaged through the wardrobe again and came back with a kitchen knife. He kept a fucking knife in his wardrobe?

You let out a horrified gasp and tried to back away against the wall, but it wasn’t easy. You struggled against the belt that kept your wrists tied up desperately, but it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

And suddenly you were sure.

This was the end of you.

The end of a miserable life with an even more miserable ending.

He slammed down the knife beside your head and rolled you onto your back.

You stared at him with wide eyes and wet lashes.

“Please.” You whispered again, against the sound of a choked sob. What could you say to convince him not to kill you? What could you do? Nothing. Nothing at all. You were done for.

This was it.

“Spread your legs.”

You swallowed thickly. He would really kill you, while he was inside you?

The thought brought even more tears to your eyes.

“Please. I-“

“Now.”

Against your better judgement, you obeyed. You slowly parted your legs again, letting him in. Your arms hurt terribly, with your weight on them and now his was added.

He picked up the knife and pressed the blade against your throat hard enough for you to feel it, but not enough to cut you. And you let out a sharp gasp, when he pushed forward and suddenly he was fucking you again.

“My good girl.” He murmured and let out a soft moan. “Oh, my good girl, you trust me, don’t you?”

He began to move faster and harder, causing you to moan, despite yourself. You were still crying. The feel of the cold blade against your skin was enough to make sure of it.

But the pleasure rolled over you in waves, despite your fear.

You released a sob and nodded.

“My good girl. My darling girl. My sweet girl.” He whispered and pressed the knife down slightly tighter, but still not enough to cut you.

His other hand wandered up and he pressed his fingers into your cheeks, enough to make you moan out again.

“Say it.” He growled.

“I’m your girl.” You whispered shakily.

“Again.”

He was growing closer, you could tell. His movements, once controlled, became more and more reckless and his moans grew louder.

“I- I’m your girl.” Your insides twitched.

“Fuck, yes, you are. My girl. My good girl.”

He gave a particularly hard thrust and you were sure. You would…

Oh, fuck.

You came in a way you never had before. You clenched around him yet again and moaned desperately, gasping for air and not caring a bit about the cold metal pressed against your throat.

Instead, you felt it seemed to intensify the feeling somehow.

You were so helpless.

The moment you came, you heard him moan louder than before and his body tensed. With a low groan, he came deep inside you, twitching and throbbing.

A moment later, he let the knife slip from his hand and it rolled off the bed with a loud click. His head dipped forward and he buried his face in your neck as he rode out his release. He opened his mouth and pressed a hot, wet kiss to your neck.

And suddenly you were sure.

He wouldn’t let you go and you were special.

But was that really a good thing?

“Oh God.” He breathed out when he slowly came down from his high. Your hips twitched in exhaustion and over-stimulation. You had never felt so worn-out and satisfied at the same time.

You didn’t even realize how you were still crying, until he pulled his head back to look at you. The fury was gone. He was much more calm now and the softness was back.

Just like that.

His brows furrowed and he gently cupped your face in his hands.

“Did I hurt you?” He whispered.

Your eyes fell shut and you nodded. You sniffled softly.

His head fell forward aagain nd he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead. Then your nose, and then your cheek. Kissing away your tears. A moment later, you felt the salt on your lips when he brushed his over them, kissing you softly.

“I would never kill you. You know that, right?”

You swallowed thickly. Just a minute earlier you had been sure he would stab you to death.

But you forced yourself to nod.

“Good.” He whispered. “Because I would never kill you, my sweet, darling girl.”

He smiled and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“At least not unless you gave me a reason to.”

___________________________________________________

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If I forgot anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it!

Author's note: Sorry guys, his insanity won over this one. But I'm positive he'll show us another side of him in the future!

[mommyownsmee]

What the fuck is wrong with 90% of the

“Dom/mes” on Tumblr?

I swear, the sheer audacity of some so-called “Dominants” on this site is generously shocking. What the fuck is wrong with most of you?

Since when did being a Dom/me mean treating submissives like disposable playthings? Since when did it mean demanding obedience without offering respect, boundaries, or basic human decency? You don’t get to call yourself a Dominant just because you slap “Sir” or “Mistress” in your bio and bark orders at strangers like a power-starved brat.

A real Dom/me knows that dominance isn’t about control alone—it’s about trust, responsibility, mutual pleasure. It’s about understanding the submissive’s needs, limits, and desires just as much as your own. It’s about care. And yet, I keep seeing these arrogant, unskilled, self-absorbed pricks who think submission is owed to them just because they exist.

You are not entitled to anyone’s submission.

You are not a Dom/me just because you think you are.

And you sure as fuck are not dominant if you don’t understand that submission is given, not taken.

If your idea of dominance is ghosting subs after using them, ignoring boundaries, degrading without consent, or treating submission like a free service, then you are not a Dom/me—you’re a walking red flag.

This space should be built on mutual desire, mutual respect, and mutual pleasure. If you can’t understand that, then step the fuck away from the title of Dom/me and sit down!!

And to the submissives out here: You don’t owe these people anything. A Dom/me who doesn’t respect you, your limits, or your autonomy is not a Dom/me you should waste a single second on. Call them out! Do not keep the damage they did to your body and mental health in! SCREAM. YELL. TOGETHER WE CAN MAKE THEM STOP.

[no-144444]

total wipe out- l.norris

summary: lando has a chance encounter that changes his life

pairing: lando norris x fem! single mom! reader

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Lando had a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. This time, his skiing holiday had turned into a disaster when he fucking ran over a child. Impressive, I know. The second he did it he slowed down and started to book it back to the kid who was probably sobbing crying (he’d hit it at full force). 

“Are you alright?!” he stressed, picking up the kid (who had been stuck in the snow). 

And the fucker was giggling. 

“That was fun!” he cheered, clapping his hands. “Do it again!” 

Did he have brain damage? Did he just give a child fucking brain damage? 

“Alex!” you shouted, stopping beside the two of them. “Are you alright?” you asked, taking him in your arms and checking him over. 

“I’m fine mommy! I had so much fun!”

You stared at your son, unimpressed. The mini heart attack you’d just had was all for nothing. “You’re a weird fucking kid,” you mumbled under your breath, making Lando laugh. You turned to him. “I am so sorry about him, I always tell him to stay by me, but he doesn’t listen-”

Lando chuckled, holding a hand up to stop you. “I am almost sure it was my fault, so I am very sorry. I hope he’s alright and I didn’t give him brain damage or something.”

You laughed. “Let’s hope not,” you smiled. “Sorry again.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry too.”

And with that, you and Alex skated off. 

“What the fuck was that?!” Max shouted, coming up beside him with Pietra hot on his tail. “YOU JUST WIPED OUT A KID!” 

Lando rolled his eyes. Max, ever the pessimist. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

As he sat in his cabin, just finished winning a game of poker, he sighed, thinking of you and Alex. Obviously, Lando hadn’t seen anything other than your hair (which he thought was gorgeous), and your eyes when you’d lifted your sunglasses to look over Alex. You had hauntingly beautiful eyes, and he was slightly upset with himself that he hadn’t tried to chat with you longer. You were sweet, kind, funny, beautiful (he just knew you were gorgeous). He wanted to know more. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Hanging around the same slope as yesterday in hopes of seeing you there was probably not his best idea, but alas, his dumb plan worked. He saw the familiar dinosaur helmet on the 4 year olds head, and he smiled when he noticed Alex whizzing up to him. 

“Alex!” he cheered, watching him come down the mountain, a bright smile on his face. 

Alex walked over and wrapped his arms around Lando’s legs. “Did you see?” he questioned, looking up at him. 

Lando’s heart ached, he adored children. Alex was definitely not helping his raging baby fever. “I did bud! That was awesome.”

“Are you a professional skier?” he asked.

“No,” Lando smiled, kneeling down to meet his eyes. Your eyes, just smaller. “But I am a professional athlete.”

“What sport?!” he asked, his eyes going wide. “My favourite sport is Formula One, but I like all sports anyway.”

“Who’s your favourite driver?” Lando asked, suppressing a smirk as he took his balaclava down. 

“Lando Norris!” he cheered, jumping up and down. 

Lando finally took off his goggles and Alex’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit!” he almost shouted, making Lando laugh. 

“Alex!” you scolded, walking over to him. “What did we say about bad words?” 

“Momma look, he’s Lando Norris!” Alex cheered, pulling on your jacket. 

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, looking at him. “Hi, I’m Y/n, and this is Alex,” you introduced. “We meet again.”

He smiled. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Do you mind if Alex gets a picture with you? You’re his favourite driver,” you asked, trying to sound less awkward than it felt. 

“Of course, I’d love to,” Lando smiled, more than happy to get in a photo with him. Alex stood up beside him, hugging him, as Lando smiled wide and bright. You quickly snapped a picture and thanked him. 

“Momma, can we go again?” Alex asked, pointing at the top of the mountain. 

“We should probably head in for dinner darling,” you said. Alex frowned. “You’re hungry, I know you’re hungry.”

Alex huffed. “I want to go again though.”

“We’ll go again tomorrow,” you smiled, patting his back. 

“Alright,” he smiled. “Bye bye Lando!” 

“Thanks again,” you smiled at him. 

“I’m heading in too now,” he said. “Mind if I join you guys?”

You stared at him for a second. “Um, yeah, sure,” you smiled. “Of course.”

Alex beamed and held Lando’s hand as you all walked back to the resort. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Dinner was just listening to Alex ask Lando questions about his life, about the cars, about everything. It was cute, and Lando was so willing to listen to every question, and adequately answer them. As dinner went on, you noticed the way he kept looking over at you, soft, sweet, staring that didn’t make you uncomfortable. And when he was the one carrying Alex back up to your hotel room, and wishing him sweet dreams, he didn’t mind it. 

“Thanks for everything today, you’ve definitely made his year,” you chuckled. 

“It was nice to meet you guys. Alex is a lovely kid,” he nodded, but there was still something unsaid. He wanted to ask for your number, but didn’t want to overstep, and he could feel the tension between you two. “I’m just going to say this, and you can totally say no and I’ll back off but could I get your number?”

You stared at him. “Is that a joke?” you asked, unsure. 

“Oh shit, are you married? Fuck I didn’t know-”

“No, no! I’m not. It’s just… you’re… y’know, and I’m not. I’m a single mom and you’re a racecar driver.”

He shrugged. “And? I really like you, and Alex.”

“Be realistic Lando, what would people say?” 

“That I’ve got a very hot and sweet girlfriend and a cute stepson?” he smirked and you playfully pushed him. 

“You can have my number, but I’m not promising any of that,” you chuckled, grabbing your phone.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Australian GP. First race of the season. 

And you were sitting in Lando’s hotel room before he had to go to the track. How your life had changed in the past few months. You were officially dating an F1 driver, you’d been to Monaco a lot, Lanod had visited London a lot, and you were happy. Alex adored Lando, they literally went on day trips together without you (Lando says it’s so you can have time with your friends, but you know it’s just because he wants to hang out with him). 

“You ready to go, bud?” Lando knocked on the door of the hotel bathroom, trying to get Alex out of there. 

“Almost, just need to wash my hands!” he answered. 

“You ready?” he asked, turning to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. He was excited. Extremely so, to have you in his garage and to show you off to the world. 4 months of dating hardly seemed enough, but he had convinced you anyway. 

You nodded and took a deep breath, slightly terrified for this weekend. 

“You’ll do great,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him. “Everything will be alright.”

You nodded and smiled, taking his hand instead as Alex came out of the bathroom. “All finished mom,” he smiled and took your hand. 

Lando stopped you two and smiled. “Pre-race weekend selfie?” he smiled bashfully. You smiled back at him and lifted up Alex, all three of you posing for the photo. “Perfect,” he smiled, looking at the photo, then kissing your cheek. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :)

mclaren masterlist

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"You're gonna go far"

okay yall this is chapter one! if it sucks or doesn't make sense pls don't hate. might take it down later if i decide i hate it. likes, comments, and reblogs encourage me!!!I brainstormed this pretty fast so it might be messy.

lmk if there's any plot holes! This is the week following the failed patrol and Tiffany taking reader's credit. About 6 to 7 months after Tiffany moved in.

The first day after the incident, you had stayed in your room, nursing the bitter sting of betrayal. You couldn’t even remember the last time they’d acknowledged your existence. Tiffany, of course, was the shining star of the household. While you were holed up in your bedroom, processing the snakebite that had changed everything, Tiffany was out there, winning their favor with her charm, her sweet smiles, and her sugar-coated lies. You spent all night aching and feeling your bones shattering in your skin, feeling your skin peel off, and your teeth sharpen and make your mouth bleed.

The day started with her knocking on your door, her voice dripping with fake concern.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, stepping inside without waiting for permission. “I heard what happened last night... but don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just walk it off, right? Just a snake bite! You weren't even supposed to be on patrol, Dad said that you can't be part of the team. You're not skilled enough.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. How could you? It wasn’t a matter of walking it off. The venom inside you had begun to manifest, the snake-like power curling through your veins, but Tiffany's words twisted the knife further. You could see the smug look in her eyes as she added, “It’s okay. I’m here now. I know you’re upset, but let’s just move past it. You need some tough love”

You didn’t know what to expect when the transformation took hold that night. One minute, you were trying to cry yourself to sleep the next—your skin tingled, muscles shifting, twisting beneath the surface. The bite on your neck from the damn snake burned like fire, but something deeper, something inside you, urged you to embrace it. Again you felt your mouth burn, your body tingle, your skin shed and a searing pain from the waist down.

As you lay flat against the wall, your hands pressed against the cool surface you couldn’t help but grin, pain was better than numbness. You weren’t just Bruce Wayne's outcast daughter, nor were you the wannabe batgirl, as Stephanie liked to call you, you were something else now, something powerful.

The first time you ejected venom from your fingertips, you almost dropped your phone in surprise. It was cold, sharp, and terrifying in its power. It didn’t make sense. You could feel the agility coursing through you, every muscle in your body aligning with the new capabilities as if your very bones were made for this transformation. This wasn’t you anymore.

The idea of getting even, of showing them all that you weren’t weak or invisible, had always been a fantasy. But now, it didn’t feel like a fantasy. It felt real, solid in a way that left you trembling. You weren’t just going to prove them wrong. You were going to become something they could never ignore again. And they would never see it coming.

But what now? The Batfamily—Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, all of them—had given you nothing but pain and neglect for years. They didn’t understand you, didn’t care to. They couldn’t see past their perfect image of family long enough to see you. Now, with this power, you didn’t need them. You never did.

Except… there was Tiffany.

She was their new perfect darling, their shining star. Every time she took a step into their world, they’d fawn over her, ruffle her hair, praise her as though she could do no wrong. You had tried to be perfect for them, but perfection never got you what you wanted. It never got you love. It never got you acceptance.

She was a liar, a fraud, and she’d ruined your life. You'd tried to warn them, tried to tell them what she really was—what she was doing behind their backs. But they chose to believe her over you. They always did.

So it was time for them to learn. To know what you were capable of.

You wouldn’t hurt them but you would make them understand. You would show them your worth, show them what they had turned their backs on. No more hiding. No more being invisible. You’d be the storm they couldn’t control, the one they couldn’t ignore.

One by one, you would take back everything that was stolen from you.

The next day Bruce didn’t even acknowledge you when he passed you in the hallway. You wanted to tell him about the snake, about the strange scary things going on in your body, of the violent thoughts running through your mind but the words died in your throat in fear of ridicule. You stood there, heart racing, desperately hoping he’d say something, anything, just a hint of recognition. But he didn’t. Tiffany was at his side, her arm linked through his as they strolled past you. She was chattering on about some trivial matter, and you could feel the coldness in Bruce's demeanor. No eye contact. No words. Nothing.

It was as if you weren’t there. It hurt, more than you could have imagined. And yet it wasn't anything new.

Alfred, the one person who might’ve shown you compassion, didn’t even make you breakfast. You waited in the kitchen, hoping for something—anything. But no, Tiffany had already filled the void with her charming demeanor, sitting at the table with Alfred, chatting about some charity event.

You stood there, waiting. Watching. Silent.

Eventually, you turned and left. Alfred hadn't even looked up when you walked out.

Damian.

Your little brother who you tried so hard to bond withhad taken to sneering at you when you crossed paths with more anomosity than usual. His usual arrogance and distaste for you had only intensified. You had caught him once, whispering something to Tiffany about how "pathetic" you were. “Father’s blood runs through me, not through you,” he had muttered under his breath. You had to fight the overwhelming urge to break down right then and there. The venom inside you seemed to thrum in response, as if it recognized the cruel words, feeding off them.

Later, you overheard him tell Tiffany, “You’re far more worthy of being in this family than she’ll ever be.”

Jason, who you once thought of as a brother, the only one who could’ve understood you, had turned his back completely. You had tried to reach out to him and tell him of the pains at night, to apologize for whatever wrongs you’d committed, but all he did was glare at you. A snide comment about how “you wouldn’t know what it means to feel pain” and then he walked away, his back to you as he followed Tiffany down the stairs.

Your heart shattered.

Tim was... absent, but his absence was worse than anything. He made no effort to reach out, barely acknowledging you when you passed by. When you tried to speak with him, to ask how his day had gone, he merely gave you a dismissive shrug and muttered something about needing to “work.” Tiffany, on the other hand, always had time for him. She seemed to be everything you were not—everything they wanted. She was their perfect daughter, their perfect sibling. She was the one who belonged.

You tried to slip into the shadows, but the truth was, you felt like you were already invisible.

You and Duke used to be friends when he first came, till he realized Stephanie was much cooler than you. Maybe you could hang with them in the cave, maybe they could help figure out what was happening to you. Maybe even talk to Barbra and Cassandra!

The Batcave was eerily quiet when you worked up the nerve to enter. You were sitting at a workstation, trying to work up the courage to talk to any of your siblings but your thoughts kept drifting. Tiffany had completely woven herself into the fabric of the team, and everyone else, even Duke, seemed content to ignore you.

You and Duke had once been close. He’d been one of the few people who had ever tried to make you feel like you belonged in the manor. You remembered the late-night conversations, sharing stories and laughter, plotting out plans for how you could prove your worth to the family. But now, every time you glanced in his direction, there was nothing but distance and confusion.

you could feel his presence across the room. He and Tiffany were standing by one of the equipment stations, speaking in hushed tones. You tried to ignore them. It hurt too much to look at Duke, to see how easily he had fallen under Tiffany's spell, how effortless it was for him to ignore you now.

Tiffany was front and center, as usual. Her presence always seemed to command attention, like a star that everyone gravitated toward. You had grown used to the way they all fawned over her, but it didn’t make it any easier to watch.

“Duke, you’re up next,” Tiffany called out, a smile playing at her lips. Her voice was sweet, but you could hear the subtle edge beneath it. A tone that made your blood boil. She wasn’t just charming them, she was playing them.

“You know, I’d never say no to a challenge, Tiff.” he said, his voice almost affectionate.

“You’re the best, Duke,” Tiffany purred, clearly pleased.

You glanced at Barbara, hoping for something—a glance, a small acknowledgment—but her eyes were glued to her computer screen. She might as well have been miles away.

Cassandra, as usual, was focused on her training. She hadn’t ever shown interest in you, and today was no different. Her sharp gaze didn’t waver from the sparring targets she was working through, ignoring you entirely.

You sighed, not wanting to add to the already uncomfortable tension in the air. The weight of it was overwhelming. But you couldn’t help but overhear the rest of Duke and Tiffany’s conversation.

“I’m telling you, Duke,” Tiffany was saying with a laugh, “you’ve got this in the bag. You’ve been training for years, they’re never going to see it coming.”

Duke chuckled, clearly reveling in her praise. “Yeah, but I’m still not sure I trust the plan,” he said, glancing at the others. “You really think it’ll work?”

Tiffany’s smile was cold and calculating. “Trust me, it will. I’ve been working on it for weeks, and with your skills, we’ll have it done in no time. Just follow my lead.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from speaking up, even if you weren’t sure why you were still trying. You knew they didn’t care, but some part of you still clung to hope that maybe, just maybe, they’d listen. You and Duke were friends, he wouldn't ignore you. You didn't want Tiffany to pressure him into a plan he wasn't sure of.

“Tiffany, why don’t you give Duke some space?” you asked, trying to sound casual. “He might want to work out his own plan, you know?”

The moment the words left your mouth, Duke’s expression darkened, and so did everyone else's. Even Barbra glanced at you.

“Oh, you’re still here?” Tiffany asked, her tone laced with mock sweetness. “I didn’t realize you had any input. I guess it’s cute that you think Duke needs your help.”

Duke’s eyes narrowed. “I’m good, [Y/N]. Really. Tiffany’s got this. Don’t you have some... other place to be?”

Your mouth burned and your bones ached, since when did Duke treat you like this? What right did he have? You were friends, friends aren't mean to friends.

Your fists clench, "Excuse me? What's that supposed to mean?" You spit out, unusually angry and brave.

His eyes softened for a second but then Duke looked up at you, his gaze colder than you remembered. “It’s not personal, okay? It’s just… you don’t really fit in with the rest of us."

The words felt like a slap in the face. Tiffany was the one with the skills. Tiffany was the one who was flawless. Tiffany was the one who didn’t need to try. Tiffany fit in.

You wanted to scream, to demand an explanation for why you were being discarded like this. You tried, but the words caught in your throat, leaving you silent. Duke wasn’t the person you had once leaned on. He wasn't your friend anymore. you could feel the deep divide between you both now, a gap named betrayal.

Before you could respond, Stephanie, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward. “Come on, (Y/N), don’t waste our time. If you don’t have anything useful to add, just leave. You’ll be better off on your own.”

Your eyes snapped to her. Of all people, you didn’t expect Stephanie to be so blunt. But here she was, her arms crossed and her eyes not even looking in your direction as she spoke.

Tiffany shot Stephanie a glance of approval. “Exactly, Steph. They’ll just slow us down. Maybe you should go back to the kitchen and bake something.”

The words were meant to belittle you, to remind you of the one thing they knew you were good at, baking, and nothing more. You felt your fists clench, the sting of her words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

Duke’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. His silence spoke volumes. You could feel the finality of it, the way the space between you both had grown too big to bridge.

“You don’t have to listen to them,” Tiffany continued, her voice smooth, "You’re not part of the team. Just let it go. It’s better for everyone.”

Tiffany’s manipulation was sickening. But what hurt the most was that Duke was going along with it. He had always been the one person who had made you feel like you mattered in this cold, detached family. And now? He was treating you like you were nothing. He had chosen her over you. The reality of it hit you like a t train.

“Fine,” you muttered, swallowing the lump in your throat, ignoring the burning of your eyes and the hole in your chest.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked out of the Batcave, the cold stares of Tiffany, Duke, Stephanie and Cassandra burning into your back. no matter how hard you had tried, how many times you had bent over backwards to prove your worth, it would never be enough for them.

The final blow came that night on the 7th night after the incident and the day after Duke's betrayal.

Tiffany had won. You could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. She won their trust, their love. Now, she was going to make sure you were out of the picture for good.

You overheard Bruce and Tiffany speaking in his study, a room you were never allowed to enter.

“I think it’s for the best,” Tiffany said, her voice sweet, almost too sweet. “She’s so... incompetent. Maybe a change of scenery will help her grow.”

“Maybe,” Bruce replied, his voice cold, indifferent. “But it’ll also keep her away from Gotham for a while. From the family.”

“It’ll be better for everyone,” Tiffany continued. “She’s been so distant lately, and honestly, I don’t think she fits in here. She doesn’t belong.”

“I’ll have Alfred make the arrangements tomorrow,” Bruce said, his tone final. “It’ll be good for her. A change of pace. A chance to learn discipline.”

And just like that, your life as you knew it ended.

You would be sent away to a boarding school in New York City. They didn’t even give you the courtesy of telling you themselves. Tiffany had already manipulated the situation, convinced them that it was for the best. That you didn’t belong. That you needed to be removed from the family.

Later That Night

You sat in your room, fists clenched, eyes burning with tears you refused to shed. You could hear Tiffany’s laughter echoing in the halls as she paraded through the manor, a crown on her head that wasn’t hers.

You weren’t going to cry. Not anymore. You weren’t going to beg for their attention. For their love. No. You had something far more dangerous now. Something that didn’t need them. Something that would show them all just how wrong they were. The venom in your veins burned brighter now. You could feel it coiling around your bones like a living, breathing thing. You would prove them all wrong. You would go to New York and never look back.

Ok I tried my best guys be nice! I just had so many ideas and didn't know how to execute them! Send in asks! I wanted to get the plot moving tbh