#Everyday this story gives me more questions

[severussnapemylove]

Hey. Butterbeer has alcohol in it…but 13yo can buy it…

????????

[gertritude-art]

A fun way imo to develop characters is to look at them and ask, "what does this imply?" This unfortunately only works if you already have a character concept in mind, but it's always been useful for me when I need to create some interiority for a character who feels a little flat.

As previously stated, literally all you're doing is looking at a character and performing a rudimentary analysis of them based on what you've already developed. A good example of this is my character Mordred, who early on in his development was conceived of as a sickly looking teenager wearing a full suit and bowtie. This is because I thought there was a lot of potential in this image. "What kind of teenager goes to school everyday wearing a full suit and bowtie?" Probably a kid who takes himself very seriously and has some interest in looking "polished" -- perhaps he even views himself above his peers for how he dresses. And, how might this visual extend to other aspects of him? Is he always someone who goes against the grain? Does he actually have an interest in men's wear, or is this a symbolic image for how he stands against his peers? I bet he has strong opinions on society. Did he buy the suit himself, or did his mom buy it, because one or the other also implies some stuff about the nature of their relationship, if his mother is supportive of his oddness or not, etc. etc. etc. A lot of stuff that you can find out, just from looking at one small aspect of a character! The same kind of process can spiral from anything - a character's actions, a character's thoughts, their beliefs, a line they say, a face they make, a hobby they have... all can be a good starting point for developing them further and figuring out more about them.

In a similar vein, I know that people recommend filling out character charts and stuff, but usually I find it more useful to think of a character in terms of a "scenario" or a "description" than in terms of their traits. "This character is smart" vs. "This characters complains to the teacher when the test has a question that isn't in the book" ; "This person is stubborn" vs. "This is the kind of person who'd rather starve than order food if they said they weren't hungry." Figuring out a character through something like this gives me a specific image of how they might act in a story as opposed to more broadly-described traits. Being as I tend to think up characters with story ideas and scenarios, it's much more helpful for me! "Ah, but how do you do this, Gert?" Easy: you stare at a wall for multiple hours until you have a revelation about a character. This is surely what everyone is capable of [nodding sagely]

[hollyoongs]

Anytime I'm alone, I can't help thinking about you (ariana grande - everyday) All I want, all I need, honestly, it's just me and you

ᨓ 。secretary!karina x ceo!fem reader ꒰✒️꒱﹕smut with plot ﹕+7k contains: smut, masturbation at work (freaky), they are horny for each other but reader is too blind, mention of sexual toys, pet names (slut, needy girl, good girl) d/s dynamics (they are both giving switch), spanking (not so hard, a couple times), oral (both receiving). The text inside a separator like this (━━━━━━☆━━━━━━) is a flashback. Never used Y/N in a story, but this mini series is an exception.

The power you held was absolute, unquestionable. Every decision you made rippled through the walls of your company, and no one dared to challenge it. The glass of your office windows reflected that authority—high above, unreachable. Until Karina came along.

She was efficient, poised, always dressed impeccably in tight skirts and button-up shirts that hugged her curves. And let's not forget a messy yet elegant hairstyle that showed her beautiful features, her shy behavior was her charm in contrast to how she matched your dominant energy at meetings. Her folder, always organized at her side, held her carefully crafted questions—ones that left executives speechless and you with a proud smile.

Karina was flawless in her role. But the way she handled herself wasn’t the only thing that made you notice her. It was the subtle tension that built over time she gave after a couple months of working with you, the lingering glances that lasted a little too long, the accidental touches that felt anything but accidental. She had a way of breaking through your perfect walls, and you hated that you started to like it.

Meetings became the highlight of your day, watching how she tactically maneuvered through conversations, challenging others with a grace that had you hooked. Every time she met your eyes after silencing an executive’s weak argument, you felt that pang of proudness with something more dangerous hidding there—desire.

It became more than professionalism. It was the way her fingers brushed against yours when she handed you documents, how her breath would hitch just barely when she stood close to you to discuss quarterly reports. That composed exterior of hers cracked just enough for you to notice how deeply the tension simmered beneath the surface.

But you kept it together. After all, you were the CEO. Control was what you thrived on. You had never let anyone, especially someone under your employ, cause you to lose your grip on that power. Until that day, damn that fucking day.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

It was right after a meeting, but it wasn't as perfect as usual. You could feel your anger boiling inside you, the marketing group of the company did quick and bad reports and handed them to Karina. You both walked to your office, Karina was more worried about your state after rescheduling the meeting and organizing one with the marketing group that day in a few hours.

"Do you want a glass of water, maybe some iced tea?" Karina asked, her voice soft but laced with concern as she watched you angrily pull at the tie of your perfectly tailored suit. Her eyes trailed over your movements, the slow reveal of skin as you undid the top button of your shirt. She should have been focused on calming you down, but instead, she was mesmerized by the way your chest rose and fell with each frustrated breath.

"Karina, I'm so fucking mad," you snapped, tossing the tie onto the chair as you collapsed into it. "They had a month to do this, and the work looks like a first-year university student could have done it better." You slammed the papers on your desk, the sound echoing through the room, but it was the sight of you sinking into the chair, head thrown back and eyes closed in an attempt to relax, that caught her attention.

She was supposed to be concerned, worried about the upcoming meeting, but all she could focus on was the way your shirt opened slightly at the top, revealing the valley of your breasts. Her gaze lingered there longer than it should have. She liked you like this—angry, vulnerable, undone.

"I'm going to bring some iced tea and let you relax until the meeting with the marketing team," Karina said softly, doing a small bow. You opened your eyes at her gesture, watching her.

"Don't come to the meeting with the group. You can go early today, Karina," you replied, standing up and grabbing your tie once more. As you slipped it back on, you glanced in the mirror a few feet away from your desk, your reflection staring back at you, still tense from the mess earlier. "And don’t worry, I’ll go get my tea. I need some fresh air."

Your purse and phone in hand, you walked toward Karina, stopping right in front of her. She stood still, her wide eyes following your every move. Without thinking too much, you reached out, wrapping her in a small hug. Her body stiffened in surprise as you pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you for everything you’ve done, Karina," you whispered. "I don’t know what I would do without you."

The sincerity in your voice lingered in the air, and before she could react, you pulled away and walked out of the office, leaving Karina standing there, frozen in place. Her mind raced, still processing the fact that you—her boss, the person she'd been secretly harboring a crush on for months—had just kissed her.

She turned slowly, her gaze fixed on your hips swaying as you walked away, the loose fabric of your office pants hanging just right. She swallowed hard, heat flooding her cheeks as her thoughts ran wild. She’d always admired the way you moved, the confidence that radiated from you even in moments of frustration. But seeing you like this, relaxed, offering a rare glimpse of your softer side—it was almost too much.

For a moment, she stood in the empty office, her fingers brushing over the spot on her cheek where your lips had touched. She replayed your words over and over in her mind. "I don’t know what I would do without you."

Her heart raced, her mind torn between professionalism and the burning attraction that had been growing for months. She wondered if you knew. If you felt it too.

Hours had passed since your kiss on her cheek, and Karina had tried her best to focus on her work, but the tension had only grown more unbearable. She watched you as you worked late into the evening, your brow furrowed as you wrapped up some final documents. The sight of you, so composed, so in control, only made her more restless.

Karina shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her panties soaked through as her body responded to the images that wouldn’t stop playing in her mind—your lips against her cheek, the warmth of your embrace, the casual dominance you exuded. She couldn't take it anymore.

Excusing herself quietly, she slipped out of the office and headed straight for the bathroom. The building was nearly empty by now, long after most employees had gone home. Her steps quickened as she entered the spacious corporate bathroom, relief flooding her as she realized there were no cameras, no one to catch her in this state.

She felt a mix of shame and desire as she jumped to the large sink, giving her back to the mirror, her breath shaky as she slipped her fingers under her skirt and tugged her soaked panties down. The cool air hit her damp entrance, making her shiver. Karina bit her lip, her fingers grazing her slit as she sat on the edge of the sink, her legs spread wide.

Her mind wandered immediately back to you—the way you had looked at her earlier, the way your lips brushed her cheek, the heat of your body so close to hers. She imagined your hands on her, how strong and sure they would feel, gripping her hips, pulling her against you.

She moaned softly, her fingers circling her clit as she closed her eyes, losing herself in the fantasy. She could see you now, standing in front of her, watching her with that same cocky smile you always had in meetings. Your eyes dark with lust, your chest pressing against hers as you leaned in, your breath hot against her skin.

"Fuck, just like that boss." she moaned lowly, her other hand grabbing her breast to add pleasure.

Karina's breath hitched as she dipped her fingers inside herself, imagining it was you, your hands roaming her body, claiming her. Her hips bucked instinctively, chasing the pleasure that was building inside her. She bit down on her lip, hard, to keep herself from crying out as her fingers worked faster, plunging in and out of her soaked entrance.

She could picture it so vividly—the way your lips would feel on hers, rough and demanding, the way you would push her up against the wall of your office, your body dominating hers completely. She wanted it. God, she wanted you. She wanted you to take control, to take her apart piece by piece until there was nothing left but pure, raw desire.

“Oh… Y/N…” Karina moaned, her voice barely a whisper in the empty bathroom, but it felt deafening to her ears. The way your name slipped past her lips only fueled the heat burning inside her. She pressed her fingers deeper, her slick walls clenching around them as she imagined it was you filling her, your hands all over her body, dominating her just like she craved.

Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as her hips rocked against her hand. Each stroke of her fingers was a reminder of how much she wanted you, how much she needed you to claim her. In her mind, she could feel your hands gripping her hips, pulling her roughly against you, your lips trailing heated kisses down her neck, leaving marks that only she would know were there.

“More… please,” she whimpered, her other hand teasing her breast through the fabric of her blouse, pinching her nipple between her fingers. The sensation made her arch her back, pressing harder against the cold mirror behind her. The contrast between the chill of the glass and the heat of her body sent shivers down her spine.

Karina’s movements became more frantic, her fingers plunging deeper and faster inside her dripping core as she imagined the moment when you’d finally snap. When you’d push her onto your desk, your eyes dark with lust, and tear off her clothes without a second thought. She could see the look on your face—the raw desire as you took control, your lips crashing against hers in a bruising kiss, your body pressing her into submission.

The fantasy felt so real that Karina could almost taste your lips, feel the roughness of your touch as you claimed her in every way she’d dreamed of. Her hips bucked wildly, chasing the orgasm that was quickly building, her body trembling with need.

“Y/N… fuck, please…” Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a breath as her body teetered on the edge. The slick sounds of her fingers moving in and out of her soaked entrance filled the bathroom, the echo only making her wetter.

And then it hit her—a blinding wave of pleasure that ripped through her, making her whole body tremble. Her back arched violently, her legs shaking as she came hard, her walls clenching around her fingers. A strangled moan escaped her lips, and she quickly bit down on her hand to stifle the sound, her heart pounding in her chest.

She sat there for a moment, slumped against the sink, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her body was still buzzing with the aftershocks of her orgasm, her fingers coated in her arousal. She stared at herself in the mirror, her flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled hair a stark contrast to the composed secretary she tried so hard to be around you.

But she knew that no matter how hard she tried to hide it, the desire she felt for you wasn’t going away. If anything, it was growing stronger, more unbearable by the day. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out. Would you push her away? Or would you give in to the same temptation that haunted her every waking thought?

With a sigh, Karina quickly cleaned herself up and adjusted her clothes, trying to shake off the guilt that always seemed to follow these moments of weakness. But as she made her way back to her desk, one thing was clear—her need for you wasn’t just a passing fantasy.

When she opened the bathroom door, she saw you standing behind it, your cheeks red, but not as much as hers. Her solution? To ran to her stuff and to the stairs to leave the building. She was fucked, really fucked.

Karina’s heart dropped into her stomach the moment she opened the bathroom door. There you were, standing right outside, your eyes widening slightly as you met her gaze. The air between you felt heavy, charged with something undeniable, and the color on your cheeks gave away more than you probably intended. You knew. You must’ve heard her.

Her body froze for a split second, panic flooding her veins. She could see the flicker of curiosity, perhaps even amusement, in your eyes, but it only made her more anxious. She couldn’t face you—not after what she had just done, not with the sound of your name still lingering on her lips from the pleasure she’d just experienced.

Without a word, Karina darted past you, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Her mind screamed at her to leave, to escape before she made things even worse. She didn’t dare look back as she sprinted toward her desk, her heart racing as she gathered her things in a hurried frenzy. She grabbed her bag and her coat, her fingers trembling as she fumbled with the zipper.

I'm fucked. I'm so fucking fucked.

The thoughts ran wild in her mind as she turned toward the stairs, desperate to leave the building before she had to confront you again. She couldn’t bear the thought of what you must be thinking. How long had you been standing there? Did you hear her moaning your name?

She nearly tripped over her own feet as she stumbled into the stairwell, the pounding of her heartbeat louder than her footsteps echoing in the empty space. She needed to get away—far away. Her mind was spinning, her arousal now tainted with overwhelming guilt and embarrassment. What had she done? What if you called her out? What if this ruined everything?

But as she reached the bottom floor, panting from both the run and the sheer panic consuming her, one thing stuck in her mind like an anchor:

You had been standing there. Watching her.

Karina's hands trembled as she unlocked her apartment door, barely registering the sound of it closing behind her as she hurried inside. Her mind was a blur of panic and humiliation, replaying the moment over and over again. You had been there, watching her—how much had you seen? How much had you heard?

She dropped her bag onto the floor, rushing to her desk. Her laptop sat in its usual spot, but tonight, it felt like a lifeline—a way to escape the nightmare she’d created for herself. Without thinking twice, Karina opened it, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she opened her email.

She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t face you after this. The shame was too much. She had crossed a line, and now there was no going back. Her thoughts raced as she typed out the words, her heart pounding in her chest.

Subject: Resignation Letter

Y/N, I apologize for my actions earlier today. I crossed a line I shouldn’t have, and I understand if you’ve lost any respect for me. I’ve been dealing with some personal feelings that I should never have let interfere with my work, and for that, I’m truly sorry. Effective immediately, I will be resigning from my position as your secretary. Please know that I have nothing but the utmost respect for you as a leader and a person, and I deeply regret putting our professional relationship at risk. I will come in tomorrow to submit my official resignation letter and collect my belongings. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Sincerely, Karina.

She stared at the words on the screen, her chest tightening as she hovered over the send button. It felt like the only solution, the only way to escape the weight of her mistake.

With a deep breath, she pressed send.

The email disappeared from her screen, and with it, a part of her felt like it was breaking. All the late nights, all the effort she’d put into working for you—it was all coming to an end because of one moment of weakness.

Her phone buzzed on the desk, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts. She picked it up, her breath catching in her throat when she saw it was a message from you.

Y/N: Karina, we need to talk. Since tomorrow is Saturday and in Chuseok the building is closed, I invite you to have a meeting in my house because I don't find it appropriate to talk about this at a restaurant. This is the direction: xxx-xxx-xx and please be there at 3pm Punctual.

Her stomach dropped.

Karina stared at the message, her heart pounding in her chest as her mind raced. You weren’t angry in the text, at least not from what she could tell, but there was a seriousness in your words that sent chills down her spine. A meeting at your house? The thought alone made her dizzy. What did you want to talk about? Did you see more than she realized?

She bit her lip, pacing around her living room as anxiety gnawed at her. She had already sent the resignation email, but this meeting seemed to complicate everything. If she didn’t show up, it would make things worse—like she was running from the situation. But going to your house? That was a whole different level of intimidation.

The clock ticked away the minutes as Karina stood frozen, unsure of what to do. The image of you standing outside the bathroom, watching her, flashed in her mind again. Had you seen her? Heard her moan your name? Her legs felt weak at the thought. God, why did I let it get this far?

But there was no escaping it now. You had invited her, and Karina knew she couldn’t avoid this confrontation forever. She needed to face you, if only to try and salvage some semblance of professionalism—or at least to explain herself.

The next day arrived too quickly, and Karina found herself standing outside your house at exactly 3 p.m., her nerves threatening to consume her as she raised her hand to knock. She was dressed conservatively, trying to hide the turmoil she felt inside, but her palms were sweating, and her heart wouldn’t stop racing.

Before her hand even made contact with the door, it swung open, and there you were. Dressed casually in a pair of slacks and a simple blouse, your eyes met hers, and Karina’s breath hitched. You looked calm, composed, yet there was something intense in your gaze—something that made her skin tingle with anticipation.

“Karina,” you said softly, stepping aside to let her in. “Come in.”

She hesitated for a moment before stepping over the threshold, her heart pounding in her chest. The atmosphere inside your house was warm, comfortable, but the tension between the two of you was undeniable.

You led her to a sitting area, and as Karina took a seat, she couldn’t help but notice how close you were to her, your presence overpowering in the quiet space. Her mind was racing, her pulse quickening as she tried to figure out what you were thinking.

“You sent me an email,” you started, your tone neutral, but there was something unreadable in your eyes. “About your resignation.”

Karina swallowed hard, nodding slightly, unable to find the words to speak. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, the weight of your gaze making her squirm.

“I read it.” You leaned back slightly, your eyes never leaving hers. “But I’m not accepting it.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening in shock. “Y-you’re not?”

You shook your head. “No. I think there’s more to talk about before we make any decisions.” Your voice softened as you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “Karina… you're one of my best employees, you know how many people I had to fight for them to not give you corporate cards? I can't loose you for that.”

Karina's heart was pounding, her pulse racing as she listened to your words. She couldn't believe what she was hearing—after everything, you still wanted her to stay. Her fingers trembled in her lap, the tension between the two of you thick and palpable.

"You fought for me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, still processing the gravity of your words. It wasn’t just about her job performance; it was something deeper. The weight of your gaze made her stomach flutter.

You gave a small nod, your eyes softening as they locked onto hers. “Of course I did. You’re invaluable to this company, and to me. The way you handle things, how you think on your feet… I couldn’t ask for a better secretary. But this”—your eyes flicked down to her nervously fidgeting hands—“this situation is something we need to talk about."

Karina’s mouth went dry, her throat tightening as the reality of the situation settled in. She had crossed a line, and now you were confronting it head-on, yet there was no anger in your voice, just a calm determination. It was the part of you that had always drawn her in—your ability to remain composed, even when things got messy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “I never meant for you to… I mean, I didn’t think you’d see—”

“I did see,” you interrupted gently, standing up and moving around the coffee table to sit directly beside her on the couch. The closeness sent a jolt of electricity through her body. “And I’m not upset, Karina.”

Her head snapped up, eyes wide in confusion. “You’re not?”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “No. If anything…” You leaned in, your voice dropping to a whisper, “It made things clearer for me.”

Karina’s breath hitched, her heart beating wildly in her chest as your words hung in the air. The proximity between you was almost suffocating, the heat radiating from your body making her feel dizzy.

“Clearer?” she asked, her voice trembling.

You nodded slowly, your gaze never wavering. “I’ve noticed how you look at me, Karina. How you react when I’m close. I didn’t want to cross that line either, but seeing you like that…” You paused, letting the weight of your words sink in. “It made me realize I want this just as much as you do.”

Karina’s world tilted on its axis. She had been consumed by guilt, certain that her feelings were one-sided and inappropriate, but here you were, confessing that you felt the same pull toward her. Her breath caught in her throat as she searched your eyes for any hint of uncertainty, but all she saw was raw desire.

“I…” Karina’s words failed her, her mind spinning as she tried to comprehend what was happening. She wanted to say something, anything, but the only thing she could think about was how close you were—how easy it would be to close the gap between you.

"Don't say anything. You can leave now. See you at the office and have a good Chuseok." You stood up, the moment hanging heavy in the air, charged with the unspoken tension that enveloped you both. Karina remained seated, her eyes wide, still trying to process your confession. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, and every heartbeat echoed in the silence between you.

“Wait—” Karina finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked up at you, desperation mingling with uncertainty. “You can’t just leave it like that. You can’t just drop a bombshell and walk away!”

You hesitated, your hand resting on the back of the chair as you turned to face her. “What do you want me to say? I’ve been trying to keep things professional, but this… whatever this is between us… it’s becoming impossible to ignore.”

Karina stood, the urgency in her movements belying the vulnerability she felt. “I don’t want to ignore it. I want to understand it. I want to understand us.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of her words sinking in. You’d never imagined you would find yourself in this position, torn between your responsibilities as her boss and the undeniable chemistry that crackled between you. “I’m afraid of what this means. I don’t want to jeopardize your career, or mine,” you admitted, your voice softer now.

Karina stepped closer, her determination shining through. “I’m not worried about that. I’ve wanted this for so long. Just… give me a chance to show you that it can work. That we can make this work.”

Her earnestness tugged at something deep within you. You wanted to say yes, to take a leap into the unknown with her. But the weight of your positions, the risks involved—it all held you back.

“Just… give me time to think,” you finally replied, your voice tinged with regret. “I need to sort through my feelings and figure out what this means for us.”

“Okay,” Karina said, her voice low but resolute. “I’ll wait. Just don’t take too long.”

As you walked toward the door, you felt her gaze on your back, a hopeful one. You paused for a moment, glancing back at her. “Enjoy your Chuseok, Karina. I hope it’s a good one.”

With that, Karina stepped out of the house, the door clicking shut behind her.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

All of that led you both to this moment a month and half later, each of you unable to keep your eyes off each other. Karina had taken things to a new level; her outfits had transformed into a tantalizing display that left little to the imagination. The long pencil skirt that once fell to her knees now clung to her curves, shortened just enough to drive your thoughts wild. The first three buttons of her blouse were undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage—a line that beckoned your gaze like a forbidden invitation.

During meetings, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Her confidence was intoxicating, and every sly glance exchanged felt charged with the thrill of the secret you both held. When the office was quiet, Karina would often approach you, her steps deliberate as she approached your desk with that playful smile that promised trouble.

“Need a little help?” she’d tease, leaning just close enough for you to catch a whiff of her floral perfume, a mix of sweetness and seduction that sent shivers down your spine.

You’d look up, pretending to be busy with work, though every fiber of your being was attuned to her presence. “I’m fine,” you’d reply, your voice betraying a hint of tension.

But she wouldn’t let it go. As the days went on, Karina found ways to brush against you as she leaned over your desk, her hands lightly grazing your arm while she offered suggestions on projects. The massages she gave you were discreet, her fingers kneading your shoulders just enough to bring you back to the moment yet leaving you craving more. The thrill of being caught made every touch feel electric, the boundaries of your professional relationship bending with each fleeting moment.

One afternoon, as the sun streamed through the office windows, casting a warm glow over everything and once again, everybody left, Karina slipped into your office with an almost predatory grace. She closed the door behind her, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I thought we could use a little break,” she said, her voice a sultry whisper that made your pulse quicken.

“What kind of break?” you asked, attempting to keep your tone steady, but the question hung in the air, heavy with anticipation.

With a smirk, she stepped closer, her hands finding your shoulders, fingers digging in as she started to massage you. The pressure was firm, yet gentle, and you could feel the tension of the day melting away under her skilled hands. “The kind that helps you unwind,” she murmured, leaning in closer. You could feel her breath against your ear, the warmth of her body radiating just inches from you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to sink into the sensation. But the reality of your situation crashed back down. “Karina, we can’t—”

“Can’t what?” she interrupted, her tone teasing, yet a glimmer of seriousness flickered in her gaze. “Can’t enjoy what we both want?”

The boldness of her words sent your heart racing. You opened your eyes to find her staring at you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “This is risky,” you warned, though your voice lacked conviction. The truth was, you wanted her—needed her—but the repercussions of crossing that line were terrifying.

“Maybe it’s time to take that risk,” she replied, her fingers pausing as she searched your eyes for a sign of hesitation. “What if it could be more than just… this?”

Her words hung between you, filled with promise and temptation. In that moment, with the door locked and the world outside fading away, you realized the only thing standing in your way was fear. Karina was offering you something thrilling, something that could change everything.

Taking a deep breath, you weighed your options, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you have in mind?” you finally asked her eyes shinning as she left your shoulder alone.

"I want to take control," she said, her voice low and sultry, laced with a challenge. The way she said it sent a shiver down your spine, awakening a part of you that craved surrender.

“Take control?” you repeated, laughing a little. “You really think you can?”

"What do you even question that? You’ll know it if you give me the chance, boss," she replied, her confidence unwavering.

You arched an eyebrow, intrigued by her boldness. “And what exactly does that entail? You think you can just waltz in here and take charge?”

Karina stepped closer, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I don’t just think about it—I know it. You’ve felt it too, haven’t you? The way I make you feel? All that tension building between us?”

Her words struck a chord within you. The tension was undeniable; every encounter, every lingering touch had only added fuel to the fire. “Okay, let’s say I’m intrigued,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone light, though the seriousness of the situation settled over you like a heavy blanket. “What’s your plan?”

"I'm starting like this." Karina grabbed the back of your neck, her lips connecting with yours in a surprising kiss.

The sensation hit you like a jolt of electricity, igniting every nerve ending as she pressed into you, her warmth enveloping you completely. It was unexpected but thrilling, a rush of passion that sent your heart racing. You found yourself leaning into the kiss, your hands instinctively moving to her waist, drawing her even closer.

Karina deepened the kiss, her mouth moving against yours with a fervor that took your breath away. It felt both exhilarating and forbidden, the world outside fading as you lost yourself in the moment. You could taste the sweetness of her lips, a tantalizing promise of everything that could unfold between you.

As the kiss lingered, you felt her fingers tighten around your neck, grounding you in the dizzying rush of desire. Every worry about the implications of this moment melted away, leaving only the raw need that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

Finally, Karina pulled back slightly, her breath mingling with yours, her eyes dark with desire. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she teased, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

"Oh, shut up," you shot back playfully, your need for her burning brighter than ever. This time, it was your turn. You leaned in, capturing her lips in a heated kiss.

Karina moaned into the kiss, and as you introduced your tongue into her mouth, the taste of her sweetness consumed you. You hissed as she playfully bit down on your tongue, the mix of pleasure and pain igniting a deeper craving within you.

In one swift motion, she pulled off the coat of your suit, casting it aside like it was nothing. The sudden exposure of your blouse made your heart race, but you didn’t have time to process it before she ripped the buttons off, leaving your blouse gaping open.

“Karina!” you gasped, a mix of shock and exhilaration washing over you.

“I’m buying you another one,” she replied with a wicked grin, her voice dripping with mischief. With that, she tossed your bra aside, her mouth immediately finding one of your nipples.

The sensation of her warm mouth enveloping you sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You couldn’t help but arch your back, pressing into her as she expertly teased and tugged with her lips. Every flick of her tongue made you gasp, each pull drawing you deeper into a haze of desire.

You were losing yourself in the moment, your mind swirling with sensations as you surrendered to her completely. The office, the risk, everything outside faded into oblivion. All that mattered was the heat building between you, the way she took charge and the way you willingly followed. Her fingers moved deftly to the zipper of your skirt, pulling it down and letting it pool around your ankles. The cool air rushed against your skin, mixing with the heat radiating from your core, which only heightened your arousal.

As the skirt dropped to the floor, you felt her fingers slide down your thighs, coating them with the wetness that had begun to gather at your entrance. It sent a shiver up your spine, and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sensation. The anticipation was almost unbearable; you wanted her to take you, to fill that yearning space inside you.

“Sit on the desk,” she commanded, her voice low and sultry. Without hesitation, you did as she said, climbing onto the polished surface. The cool wood felt exhilarating against your heated skin, and you leaned back slightly, watching her with eager eyes.

Karina started to take off her own clothes, slowly peeling away the layers that separated you. She was intoxicating, her confidence radiating as she left only her bra and underwear on. With a practiced grace, she gathered her hair into an updo, ensuring not a single strand fell across her face. The sight of her—barely clothed, focused, and so undeniably in control—made your heart race.

“Karina…” you breathed, your voice laced with need.

Without responding, she got on her knees, her face hovering just in front of your entrance. The proximity made your breath hitch, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. The moment felt electric, as if the very air around you crackled with tension.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked, her voice a sultry whisper that sent a jolt of excitement through you.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words, your mind too consumed with the sensation of having her so close. “Just give it to me,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Needy girl,” she replied, her eyes darkening with hunger. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your sensitive skin, and you could feel every ounce of her intention radiating toward you.

Her tongue darted out, teasingly brushing against your entrance, sending a rush of sensation through your body. You gasped, instinctively pushing your hips forward, craving more of her touch. Karina grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction, and with a gentle but firm grip, she held your thighs apart, making sure you were completely open for her.

With deliberate slowness, she began to explore you with her tongue, swirling and teasing as she expertly drew out every moan that slipped past your lips. You couldn’t help but writhe on the desk, your body responding to her every movement, each flick and caress sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Karina,” you gasped, the name escaping your lips like a prayer. “That feels so good.”

She responded by intensifying her ministrations, adding pressure and speed as she buried her face deeper between your thighs. The world around you blurred, every thought dissolving into pure ecstasy. You could feel the knot of tension tightening within you, ready to unravel at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured against you, the vibrations of her voice sending another wave of pleasure shooting through your body. “So responsive.”

You gripped the edge of the desk, your knuckles turning white as you fought to keep your composure. It was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain any semblance of control. “I’m close,” you breathed, your voice trembling with urgency.

“Let go,” she urged, her tone both commanding and coaxing. “I’ve got you.”

With those words, you surrendered completely to the pleasure, allowing yourself to be swept away in the tide of sensation. Every flick of her tongue, every gentle suckle sent you spiraling closer to the edge. The world faded away completely; there was only you and Karina, entwined in this moment of unrestrained desire.

As she worked you closer to the brink, you felt the tension building higher and higher, your body coiling like a spring ready to snap. “Karina! I can’t hold on much longer!” you cried out, your voice echoing in the quiet office.

“Come on, baby,” she murmured, her eyes locking onto yours with a smoldering intensity. “Let it all out. I want to feel you come apart for me.”

With a final flick of her tongue, she sent you over the edge. A rush of pleasure flooded through you, and you gasped as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over your body. You cried out her name, the sound echoing in the air as you felt yourself surrender completely, unraveling in her grasp.

Karina didn’t relent, continuing to pleasure you through your climax, her tongue coaxing every last bit of sensation from you until you were left breathless and trembling on the desk.

“Lay on the desk, you’re going to eat me out,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. With a swift motion, she pushed everything off your desk, scattering papers and office supplies to the floor without a second thought. You barely registered the chaos as your heart raced with excitement and anticipation.

As you settled back onto the desk, you watched her climb up, her movements fluid and enticing. The sight of her—the way she gracefully positioned herself—only added to your arousal. She leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on her lips, the mingling flavors driving you wild. It was intoxicating, and you found yourself melting into her touch.

She separated from you to take her panties off, making you lick your lips in anticipation. Karina positioned herself, kneeling on the desk at the side of your face, exposing her glistening core to you. You could see how she was clenching around nothing, her body eager and ready for your touch.

“Come on, boss. Own me,” she urged, her voice sultry and filled with need. You grabbed her thighs, feeling the heat radiating from her skin, and pushed her down, your mouth finally making contact with her entrance. As your tongue brushed against her, her hands went straight to your hair, fingers gripping tightly as she gasped for air.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” she breathed, her words igniting a fire deep within you. You felt the thrill of pleasure radiate through you at her praise, pushing you to dive deeper into her sweetness.

You began to lick and tease her, your tongue exploring her folds with an eager hunger. Each stroke was met with a delightful response from Karina, her moans sending vibrations of pleasure through you. You could feel her body responding, the way her hips instinctively moved toward your mouth, urging you to take her deeper.

As you continued, you found a rhythm that seemed to drive her wild. The taste of her arousal filled your senses, intoxicating and addictive. You focused on her clit, swirling your tongue around the sensitive nub, watching as her body reacted with every flick and teasing stroke.

“Just like that,” she encouraged, her voice a mix of desperation and delight. “Don’t stop.”

You loved the way she felt beneath you, the way her body writhed with pleasure as you brought her closer to the edge. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as if trying to mold you into exactly what she needed. Each gasp and moan fueled your desire to give her everything you had.

“Please, don’t hold back,” she begged, her voice trembling with urgency. “Fuck me, please.”

With a wicked grin, you lifted your gaze to meet hers, locking eyes as you plunged your tongue deeper inside her. The sight of her pleasure, the way her back arched and her breath quickened, drove you to push harder, to give her every ounce of pleasure you could muster.

Karina’s gasps turned into cries, each one a beautiful melody that echoed in the dimly lit office. You loved the power of bringing her to this point, of watching her unravel before you. “You taste so good,” you murmured against her, the vibrations only intensifying the sensations coursing through her.

“God, I’m so close,” she cried out, her voice strained as she clung to you. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop!”

You obliged, working your tongue with renewed vigor, alternating between teasing licks and deep thrusts as you sought to bring her to the brink. Her body quivered, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps as you coaxed her toward the edge.

“Cum for me, Karina,” you urged, your voice dripping with lust as you gave a spank in each of her asscheeks, causing her to jump. “Can you also be a good slut?.”

With that encouragement, you felt her tighten around you, her body trembling as the pleasure surged through her. “Oh my God, yes!” she cried, her voice echoing in the quiet room as she let go, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave.

You savored the moment, relishing the taste of her release as it washed over your tongue. Karina’s body shook beneath you, the sound of her moans filling your ears as you continued to pleasure her through the waves of ecstasy.

Finally, as her body began to relax, you pulled back, gazing up at her with a satisfied grin. “You were incredible,” you said, your heart racing from the intensity of the experience.

Karina looked down at you, breathless and flushed, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “You have no idea how much I needed that,” she replied, a smile breaking across her face.

You couldn’t help but return her smile, the connection between you deeper than ever. “I think I’m starting to understand,” you said, your voice soft but filled with promise.

"Let's go to my place," Karina said, her face still showing the bliss of the moment.

"Can I ask why?" you said, smiling at her state.

"I have a double penetration dildo and a strap on I want to use on you,"

↷ 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢'𝚜 note: first wlw work, kinda nervous. Also this work will have 3 parts, this is the 1/3 🦋

[kalinysu]

𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃. ⇀ Muzan x F!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your Muzan’s first wife, and only demon wife. You’ve known him for centuries, and he seems to have mellowed quite a bit with you. This particular night, Muzan seemed to be in an even worse mood than usual, getting annoyed with you for every question you asked.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Cursing, verbal abuse, threats, sexually suggestive behavior.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first story, working on more. also might be some spelling errors, i’m writing this half asleep.

“I’m beginning to question what other purpose you have other than to please and love me. Tell me, why is it you struggle so much to complete one simple god damn task? Hm? Answer me when i’m fucking speaking to you. Would you prefer it if I fucked the answer out of you again? Useless bitch.”

You and Muzan had been lying in bed for a few minutes now, neither of you moving or speaking. You could sense Muzan’s anger, since when he returned all he was doing was yelling and cursing at you. You were too afraid to make any noise at all, as he had been cursing at you and yelling since he had gotten back, only stopping about an hour ago when he had gotten into the shower.

You finally built up the courage to say something, turning your head to look at Muzan, who was laying on his side with his back facing you. “Mh..Muzan? Can I… Can I turn of this lamp?” You tried your best to ask as nicely and softly as possible, not wanting to upset him or bother him even more. “Go ahead.” He mumbled. You hesitantly sat up and reached over to turn off the lamp, before moving back to your original position.

Normally, you and Muzan would be cuddling. But there was a large gap between you two in bed. You nervously fidgeted with your fingers, before looking at him once again. You stayed silent for a moment, trying to read his body language somehow and see if he was starting to get annoyed again. In your mind, you were complaining about the way he was acting. It was rare to see him like this but still, you practically craved his attention everyday, and now he wasn’t giving it to you. “Can I..braid your hair?” You asked, growing bored of simply sitting there. “..Go ahead.” He said once again. You moved a little closer to him, your fingertips running across his neck as you pulled all his long curly black hair towards you, not trying to pull on it too much.

You braided his hair carefully, making sure you didn’t tug too hard. You swore you could feel Muzan tense up at your touch for a moment, or maybe it was just you. When you were finished with the braid, you couldn’t help but ask another question. “Muzan can I—“ You were cut off by him already answering. “Go ahead.” He said, seemingly just wanting you to shut up already. You stared at him for a moment, before moving a little closer to him. You hugged him tight from behind, which only resulted in you being pushed away from him.

He was seemingly still upset with you for failing multiple missions, though you were glad he didn’t kill you like he would another demon, because you were his wife, you got the most special treatment.

Muzan then turned over to face you, his red eyes now open. He suddenly grabbed your face and pulled you closer, before kissing you, earning him a small whimper from you. “Stop whining. I can hear your thoughts.” He broke the kiss for a moment to speak, before kissing you once again. Your cheeks flushed red, only now having realized that. He had told you multiple times before but you never truly payed attention to his words. "M-maste—“ You tried to break the kiss and explain yourself, but his grip on the back of your head only forced you into the kiss once more. Your hands went up to his chest, feeling his muscular body through the robe he wore.

“Go ahead, darling.”

Your hand pushed away the silky fabric, opening your eyes slightly to see his bare chest, ever so slightly pulling away from the kiss only for him to forcefully turn your head back, deepening the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Even going as far as biting your bottom lip, causing you to whimper once again. Your hands felt his body, ever single ab on his stomach, before moving down, attempting to feel even more before Muzan’s hand stopped yours, gripping your wrist. “Not now, dear.” He said, pulling away from the kiss with a grin. You were about to whine and complain, until he had gotten on top of you and kissed you once again, this time his hands were wandering all over your body.

“You don’t deserve anything yet. You’ve got no clue how tired I am of you being such a needy bitch, who can’t even think about anything but sex. Can’t do anything right, can you?”

“Master—P-please, you know I haven’t seen you practically all day…” You said, barely above a whisper. Your thoughts were running wild, no matter how much you tried to hide them, your mind was filled with the thought of Muzan fucking you. You couldn’t stand the feeling between your legs, it was far too much. You desperately needed attention down there, but it seemed Muzan wasn’t willing to give you any. Moving off of you and bringing you closer to him, wrapping an arm around you and burying his face into your neck.

“Think of this as your punishment, for not being able to accomplish anything I ask of you.”

[skulla-rxcks]

Backstage noises

Paring: idol!Bang Chan x staff!fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: unprotected, bjs, praise

As a staff member you get told to investigate some strange noises coming from the dressing room.

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

A/n: this is based off one of my first skz fics called ‘unexpected activities’, but with more content and better writing! Enjoy!

“Y/n? Once you’re finished packing up those boxes could you see what those noises are coming from the dressing room? Oh, and on another note please go and find Chan, none of us have seen him in the past 20 minutes.” Felix says, walking over to me with a concerned look on his face.

“Of course!” I say. Going back to putting the equipment that was used for the performance back in boxes, and putting them in the closet for later storage.

After packing all the shit away I remember what Felix asked me; he asked me to investigate some noises and to find Chan. I make way through the backstage hallway and reach the dressing room, Felix was right. There is a strange noise, and it sounds like..a man.. moaning? Almost like someone was pleasuring themselves. But in a dressing room for some reason. Jesus Christ how horny do you have to be? I question the situation in my head before knocking on the door, there’s no answer, it wouldn’t hurt to take a peak inside, I was asked to check what it was after all. I sigh and open the door.

“s-shit I was just..” It’s Chan, he covers himself with his shirt in a panic. “you could’ve Atleast knocked..” he murmurs looking away with embarrassment as his ears turn red from being flustered from being caught.

“I did knock, three times actually. there was no answer so I thought someone was in pain and couldn’t speak.” I reply, fidgeting with the bottom of my shirt.

“Yeah well….it wasn’t exactly..someone who wanted help…” His eyes drift to the floor. “Is there anything I can do to make up for it.. it’s not everyday that I walk into someone jerking themselves off.” I look up at him for a split second, his erection that he’s ‘attempting to hide’ is very visible. God I feel like a pervert for looking.

He looks down at me as well when he realized I noticed his bulge. “Uh..yeah, I mean, if you want you can maybe give me a hand..? I’m so stressed lately I can hardly c..cum.” I blush at his words, it’s strangely hot knowing that he knows it’s wrong since I’m a staff member and that’s not what I’m supposed to do but something about the risk gets me going more than I would have expected.

“Alright.” I nod, a slight smile forming on my face. “What if someone comes looking for us though?” The look on my face drops to one of concern. “I guess we’ll have to make this quick then. What are you best at? You know what I mean.” He asks me as I walk towards him. “I don’t know it depends what you want me to do..”

“Could you suck me?” Chan begs with need, his breathing slowly becoming heavier as his mind makes his cock twitch at the thought. “Okay, i doubt I’ll be any good though so don’t expect too much.” I chuckle and get on my knees, lifting his shirt up slightly to reveal his throbbing length, pre cum dripping down it.

“Shit..” he groans as I lower my mouth onto his dick, bopping my head up and down as I take him down my throat. “Yeah fuck. That’s it..” Moans and words of praise come out of his mouth, he puts his hand on the back of my head guiding me when he wants me to take him deeper, making me follow the rhythm he needs to feel good.

“I’d get you to ride me but I don’t have any protection. Can I fuck your face, pretty girl?”

I give him a thumbs up saying yes, as I can’t talk clearly due to his cock blocking my ability to talk from how far down he is inside my throat. I make eye contact with him, watching as his head falls back and listening to the noises he makes as he begins to violently buck his hips into my face, his dick going so deep I can hardly breathe, it’s amazing. “Gonna go deeper and harder, just breathe okay? Tap my thigh two times if you need me to stop.”

I hold onto his thighs for support, keeping myself on my knees as the force of his thrusts go up, making it enough for my small figure to almost fall over and loose balance. “Suck it for me. Take it deeper I know you can, wanna see your face as I stuff your pretty throat with my cock until you struggle to breathe.” Chan groans, pushing my head down onto him while he goes harder, absolutely breaking my throat. “Fucking hell.. I’m gonna cum. Drink it all up and I’ll reward you. Come on baby.” He says, breathing fast and slamming himself into me, doing one last thrust before filling my mouth with his seed, I make sure to swallow it all. After I finish swallowing he pulls out of my mouth with a wet sloppy ‘pop’ noise. I gasp for air.

“Was I okay..?” I mumble, hoping that I pleased him well. “You were more than okay. Tell me what you want as a reward, maybe… sex, head, kisses. What do you want? You deserve it.” Chan pulls me onto his lap, caressing my back.

“Dick..” I mutter into his arms. “bend over for me.” He smiles, helping position me over one of the wooden benches that were in the dressing room. Once I’m bent over I feel Chan tug my jeans down along with my panties, I let out a whimper as i feel the cold air of the room make contact with my pussy lips. “P-put it in.. I don’t care if there’s no protection just.. please!” I beg, arching my ass back. I feel him push into me, I gasp. The feeling of him stretching me out is one of the best things I’ve ever fucking felt, way better than any toy or my fingers. “So fucking tight!” He praises, pushing himself fully inside of me before starting to move, the room is filled with the sound of skin against skin. I moan as I feel his balls slap against me with each sloppy thrust, his movements become more needy and rough, his dick breaking my pussy, making it dripping wet as he goes on.

“Fuck Chris I’m gonna cum!” I cry out, hearing him chuckle in amusement as I call him by his other name.

“Want me to cum inside of you?” He asks. “No it’s.. it’s too risky.. pull out..” I add. “I’m going to.. FUCK!” My body begins shaking in pleasure as my cunt begins to tighten around him, i moan loudly as i cum around him. He pulls out after i orgasm, shooting his load all over my ass and back, before flipping me over to see my face, smiling as he sees how he ruined me. “So fucking good just for me.” He says as he grabs my chin, pulling my face towards him before kissing me roughly, shoving his tongue into my mouth as a result.

“Is everything okay in there? There’s more noises then before.. y/n? Did something happen?” We hear Felix call out from the other side of the door.

“Yeah don’t worry she was just helping me out with a little something..”

[thehauntedetheral]

Can we get a yandere baker x reader pls?? 😭🙏 Thank you for your good stories like always

Thank you so much for your love. I hope you like this fic.

Yandere Baker

Requests are open !

• You got a new job. The same boring sitting in your cubicle and working on a screen. But the best part about your new job is a Bakery near your office.

• You were a regular customer there since the starting of your job as you have a strong sweet tooth. And on top of that their baked goods are so delicious that they are your new addiction now. They make the best pastries according to you.

• You go their everyday even on weekends as your house is near the office for their sweet treats that now the owner of the cozy bakery is your friend who always greets you with a cute smile. And not to forget that the baker himself was a treat for eyes with his apron, good looks, messy hairs and a boyish smile.

• Yan baker who has been owning this bakery for quite some years and is always busy with many customer. But you ... You are just awesome. The way your eyes sparkle while looking at all the baked goods kept at display, the way your face is glowing with a happy smile and vibes when you take the first bite of your pastry. This all makes him fall for you like a crazy.

• He always gives you freshly baked treats for free saying you are his "favourite customer."

• Always give you discount saying that this is for their all regular customers when in reality such thing doesn't exist.

• When he gets to know you love a specific pastry always make sure to bake them for you often even though it doesn't sell much.

• Bakes the most beautiful looking and delicious cake of your favourite icing and toppings for your birthday as a surprise.

• He loves weekends more because you stay at the bakery longer sipping coffee, reading book while enjoying coffee due to no office.

• One day you didn't came to the bakery which was very unusual so he goes to your house with a box of your favourites only to find out you are sick. (Yes this man and you spend time and talk so much in bakery that you both know a lot about each other even address. It's like you are best buddies.)

• Upon finding you sick he takes care of you and cook for you. This man's cooking skills are fantastic just like his baking skills.

• Names his new pastry after you. And also to mention that you were the first one to taste it.

• Yan once heard you saying that you wanted to learn baking one day. So after few weeks this man opens a baking class for afternoon weekends just for you to join. Tries his best to make you join his class.

• You asked him how all of a sudden he started classes. He only replies with "I love baking and I wanted my afternoons on weekends to get occupied by something".

• He is the happiest in the class teaching a bunch of people because you are their and his baking. His favourite person and thing to do of his under one roof.

• You and him would enjoy doing baking while dancing, singing to the music put on after class. (Some Kind of your own personal baking class 🤭). Yan would just stare looking at you doing all this thinking he is so lucky to even be near you.

• This man is so badly down for you. Your one smile or compliment on his baking he would becomes a puddle of blushing happiness .

• After mustering up enough courage he finally knocks at your door holding your favourite cake in his hand freshly baked by him and a question written with icing on it "Will you go on a date with me? Yes or absolutely yes"

• Well after all how could you say no to such a tempting offer including a delicious cake with a good looking baker holding it, right?

Requests are open!

Part 2 :

For more yandere reading:

[srjlvr]

ENHYPEN

,, enhypen’s reaction to their partner commenting on their live ! — <3

OT7!enhypen X idol-fem-reader | genre fluff | warnings mentions of food ! | not proofread | note. with all the seriousness im a sucker for these kind of reactions. | also yes, i know it’s hard but PLEASE imagine that their interaction with their partner is allowed and fans totally love it and live for it.

— 희승 ✶ (heeseung)

you had your free time in between your very tight schedule, you decided to text your boyfriend and ask him how his day is going so far. you waited about ten minutes which was weird—he has a free day today.

that was when you noticed enhypen is on live! you quickly got in and saw your boyfriend smiling at the screen while talking to his fans.

“what’s this bracelet? oh that! y/n gave it to me, look at her wrist she has a matching one” he smiled. you tapped your keyboard and sent your comment, ‘that’s why you didn’t reply to my text!’

“oh? y/n’s here!” he smiled widely this time, “i’m sorry i’m having too much fun here” he answered your comment, “everyone please give lots of love to y/n while i reply to her text”

just like that, he grabbed his phone to answer your texts, regardless of his 1 million views on live.

— 제이 ✶ (jay)

jay decided to go on live today and play some songs with his guitar while talking with his fans. he was so busy focusing on his guitar to notice your cute comments which adores him so much.

you were almost about to give up after commenting more than any other fan on the live when he finally looked at the screen, “huh? y/n’s here?” he asked the fans.

when he noticed your comment, ‘you look so cute today, my cute boyfriend😙’ he giggled while staring at it.

“i’ll be playing the next song for y/n,” he suddenly said and grabbed his guitar again, “it’s our favorite song! you should listen to it”

you then stayed until the end of his live, not minding the fact that you’re a bit late to your next schedule.

— 제이크 ✶ (jake)

he was busy putting his favorite songs on youtube and singing his heart out to notice your song recommendations.

“lately, i’ve been spending my time with y/n while listening to our favorite songs, i really recommend you to do it with a person you love and cherish” he pressed his lips together and smiled.

fans noticed that speaking about you always made him smile and feel better.

he was searching for song recommendations in the comments again and noticed yours, “oh? wait a minute!” he reached to the phone to search your comment again.

“it’s y/n!” he said and immediately went to youtube and put your song, “its her favorite song, i hope you’ll like it too” he smiled proudly while pointing at the screen.

— 성훈 ✶ (sunghoon)

sunghoon was answering some questions and talking about his previous schedule.

you decided to comment on his live random questions to see if you can get noticed, questions like ‘sunghoon!! how’s gaeul doing?’ and more.

without even noticing that it was you, sunghoon replied to all of your questions. “people are saying that y/n is here” he reached his phone and searched through the millions of comments.

after noticing your questions that he answered just a second ago he giggled and smiled, “i didn’t even notice it was y/n”

you then commented ‘you don’t even text your girlfriend lately’ and he just sat there for a few minutes and just asked for your forgiveness after his own fans told him to apologize.

— 선우 ✶ (sunoo)

sunoo was playing some songs while sharing with everyone a few stories that happened lately.

“right! y/n came to our photoshoot and gave us some homemade food! i think she had a lot of free time that day considering the tight schedule she has” he frowned.

he then read a few more comments until his eyes fell on yours, ‘i’d make sure to pack you homemade food everyday’ and smiled widely.

“since y/n is so free today, let’s call her!” he grabbed his phone and face-timed you. “y/n say hello to my lovely fans” he turned his phone and your face showed up.

“hello!” you giggled, “please give a lot of love and support to my sunoo” you waved. sunoo then turned his phone back and sent you a flying kiss before hanging up, “that was my girlfriend everyone”

— 정원 ✶ (jungwon)

as soon as jungwon sent you a text that his food arrived, you also got a notification that enhypen is live, and of course it was going to be jungwon.

he was talking and putting some songs, making a little mukbang for his fans. fans went crazy when they saw your comments, ‘jungwon said he was going to buy me food too but he went on live😒’

he noticed your comment only after his fans told him that you’re watching the live. “y/n….?” he asked and searched for your comment.

he chuckled to himself, “wait i’ll order you something now” he grabbed his phone and tapped some things.

“i’ll be ordering this for y/n” he showed his phone screen with a lot of food in the list, “eat well~” he smiled and continued to talk with his fans and enjoy his food.

— 니키 ✶ (niki)

he opened the live to casually talk about whatever with his fans. he likes to put songs at the background and give some song recommendations as well.

he was all dressed up today and was explaining where he’s heading after this live. you two barely talked that day since both of you are having a really tight schedule.

“i’ve been wanting to tell y/n this but we don’t have any time to talk lately” his smile dropped, “i miss having enough time to talk with her”

that was until he found you in the comments, ‘i miss you too! promise to video call you today🤍’ BOY WAS A BLUSHING MESS PFFFFFFFF

he spent the rest of the live sharing some cute memories of you and him together when you had the time to spend.

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

[gothwineaunts]

I tried my best to replicate the post that Tumblr ate earlier.

It’s not as good but you'll get the jist I think. :’)  

---

Hi again! I wanted to follow up on my post from yesterday. I’ve been mostly offline since then, and I feel much better now, especially after seeing the thoughtful responses y’all left. Where did you all even come from!? I don’t think I’ve ever posted this account anywhere, haha. But thank you so much. I’m horrendous at taking a damn compliment but I read all the replies and reblogs and I’m just incredibly humbled. You all brought up my mood a lot and highkey made me feel sane again. I’ve been so confused at why everyone in the WEBTOON comments seems to be so mad all the time, it kind of does my head in if I’m being honest.

But please don’t worry about me or Flynn. Or about Nevermore! We’d never change the story to fit what we think the commenters want us to do, for a lot of reasons. The most important of which is. If we had to do that, I think we’d rather just stop making it. What they seem to want is a story we’re not really interested in telling.

Wholesome wlw is a wildly important thing to be able to find if you’re looking for it. That really cannot be overstated. Until very recently, queer characters have been subjected by popular media to a disproportionate amount of anguish and violence. So the concept of seeing two women just, living a safe and fulfilling life together? I get why people want to see that so badly. And there’s so much beautifully written aspirational content for queer audiences out there now, and I’m pleased to death over it. But the thing is, it’s just not what we’re making.

Nevermore was always intended to be a dark gothicky romance with horror elements. Like Wuthering Heights, or Phantom of the Opera. Because those were the stories that always inspired us when we were young. Bloodsoaked stories of melodrama, intrigue, grief, and passion. Those stories would captivate me and get me asking all kinds of questions. Why can’t the Phantom be a beautiful woman? Why does Christine have the agency of a desk lamp? Why can’t sapphics have something cool like this?

So we decided to make it. Nevermore is not a wholesome romance. It doesn’t try to be. The point was never to explore sapphics having a healthy and (heavy air quotes here) “normal” relationship, like heterosexual couples get to have in real life. We already have that, together, Flynn and I. We live it, everyday.  In Nevermore, what we wanted most was to explore a sweeping sapphic romance full of danger, like heterosexual couples get to have in fiction. That’s why we love those kinds of stories so much, because of how divorced they are from the mundanity of real life. They’re fantasies.

I know that I'm preaching to the choir, aha.

But my point is: if you go to a hardware store to order a cake, you’re probably going to be disappointed. If what you crave is aspirational wlw content, there are so many bakeries you can go to that will give you exactly what you’re hoping for, and more. I especially recommend Muted by Miranda Mundt. It’s also on Webtoon, it’s completed, and it’s free to read.

And please know that I’m not saying to stop reading Nevermore, just maybe to adjust your expectations a little bit. We don’t sell cakes here, but I am pretty sure I've got a few 12ft tall skeleton lawn ornaments in the back if you're interested.

[palajae]

eastside.

PAIRING... agent!riki x agent!reader | GENRE... partners! au, romance, angst, mentions of violent, blood, guns, death implications | WC... 1k | “i’m not doing to die, you idiot.”

it’s pretty simple, really. 

you and your partner were sent out on an undercover mission—as a couple on vacation. you thought that last bit was unnecessary, but for some reason your partner insisted on the cover story. it made it all the more believable. 

whatever, you were used to it. after all, working together for four years made your teamwork and bond the best of the best. it wasn’t everyday that you were assigned to a s-class mission. that is, until your cover was blown. 

luckily, everyone had been evacuated before the resort had gone under fire, leaving you two to deal with the remaining mess.

“when’s backup coming?”

“it’s gonna take at least thirty minutes. we’re not exactly in the most accessible of locations.”  his voice sounds rather exasperated through the earpiece. 

everything seemed clear, it was just up to you two to get out of the place. you duck down, avoiding as much crashing and falling debris as possible. you needed to get to him. stealthily, you’re able to make it to the exit, peeking around the corner to spot your partner. 

right as you’re about to run over, you feel the hairs on your arm rise. quickly, you scan the area, only to spot a flash of movement from above. there was still one straggler remaining. you curse when you notice the gun in his hands.

you were just out of his view, but your partner was in his plain sight. and he was completely oblivious, you knew he looking around for you like always. 

“ki, i need you to fall back.” you try your best to keep your voice steady and calm, although the slight quiver at the end of your words gives you away. 

“what?” he stops in his tracks, glancing around in confusion. 

“do it!” you beg. he falters, having never heard such desperation in your voice. 

“you trust me.” 

it wasn’t a question, but a statement. everything you needed to say, everything he needed to hear, was conveyed in those three words. 

you inhale, rushing into the open area and aiming your gun at the guy. he spots you as soon as ni-ki begins to retreat. 

please, you beg. 

for what exactly, you’re not sure. 

as soon as the shot goes off, ni-ki spots you and rushes to your side. heart pounding, he scans the area. since when was there another guy left? either way, the man is effectively taken out. 

“fifteen more minutes, guys.”

ni-ki could care less. he brushes a few stray hairs off your clean face. 

“y/n, you-“

why are your eyes closed? 

his blood runs cold when he pulls his hands back.

all he sees is red. 

“o-oh god y/n? listen, you’re fine. right? you’re okay.”

ni-ki tightens his hold around your limp body, eyes never leaving the sight of the red continually blooming from your stomach. he keeps pressure on the wound, doing his best not to freak out even more, but when he doesn’t receive any sort of response or reaction, his mouth dries. 

he calls out your name again and again, placing a hand on your face and shaking slightly as if that would immediately wake you up. 

"no, please! you just…you can’t leave me like this-“ his voice cracks. 

your eyes fly open in annoyance. “ni-ki! will you just shut up for a minute? i’m not going to die, you idiot.”

you sigh. you can feel it. 

he’s trembling. even worse, it’s the first time you’ve seen unshed tears in his eyes. 

you place your hand over his on your cheek, squeezing slightly as if to comfort him. that action is enough for you to allow your eyes to flutter shut. 

you felt really, really exhausted. so much to the point where everything seems to fade away, the sound of your partner’s panicked cries and the throbbing pain coming off in waves from your side.  

you put in countless years and years of hard work with no rest or relaxation—all the blood, sweat, and tears—just to get to this point. 

maybe, just for a brief second, you could rest. 

a/n ▸ so like… sorry? hope you enjoy this gift tho lovelies <3

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount

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@ashtxrie @isoobie @mireyaaaaaaaaa @choppedballoondetective

send a message to be added to the taglist!

[sowhat-whynot]

Boyfriend tag!

request: “maybe do our own version of doing his makeup like mandy did w martin?”

a/n: this request had a few ideas in one btw also this is my first lil story on here so go easy on me, queens.

bf!hamzah x fem reader

──★ ˙ ̟🐇 ꩜ .ᐟ

Being a youtuber was fun cuz you got to come up with your own ideas and no one could stop you so naturally, you wanted to piss Hamzah off a bit. You had asked him to come film a ‘boyfriend tag’ video with you but there was something he didn’t know…that you’d also be doing his makeup while answering questions.

filming…

“Hi loves! Welcome back to my channel today I have someone special with me, my boyfriend” you say excitedly.

“Hi everyone! I’m so pumped to be on here” Hamzah says, pumping his fist a little.

“Why dont you tell em what we’re doing today” you say with a smirk.

“She’s gonna give me that hawk tuah on cam!!” Hamzah giggles.

“Hamzah what the hell is wrong with you” you look at him in disgust.

“I’m sorry…so, we’re doing a boyfriend tag and this is basically for y/n’s viewers to kinda get to know me since I might pop into frame from time to time and then you guys are gonna comment ‘who is that fine sexy man in the background’ and you’ll know it’s me!” Hamzah explains.

“You explained that perfectly but I have a surprise for you” Hamzah look a bit confused.

“I’m gonna make you look beautiful and do your makeup, like I’ve always wanted to!!!”

“Are you serious” He stares at the camera.

“Yes, because one day Hamzah was watching me do my makeup and asked ‘how do ya know how to do that’ and today’s your lucky day, babe. You’re gonna find out” you explain.

“You know what whatever” Hamzah gave in.

-

You face towards your boyfriend to apply foundation with a brush while asking a few questions you came up with.

“Hamzah tell the viewers you name and birthday”

“Is this a joke?” He laughed, not believing that this was the whole point of the video.

“Just answer bruh. The viewers wanna know!” You say as you blend the foundation into his skin.

“Hi i’m Hamzah and i was born on March 5th, 2002”

“Ok, next question is ‘describe your high school self in 5 words’”

“Hot, cool, goofy, got bitches” He proudly answered.

“You know what..hell yeah! Except for the last one i know you got no girls and they probably all ran away from you boi”

“Next question, y/n”

You continued on with the question and you were the happiest girl alive giving your boyfriend the makeover of his life. You smiled while applying some of your pretty pink blush on his cheeks. You two got so distracted from goofing around it made it hard to take the youtube video seriously.

“No way it takes this long to apply all of this. You girls do this everyday??” He asked, appreciating your hard work.

“Yeah but honestly it’s not about how long it takes, it’s about how gorgeous you’re gonna look at the end. Like a pretty princess”

“Oh my god” Hamzah turns his head away from you.

“Look at me Hamzah i still have more questions” your hand reaches to his chin making him look at you.

“Next question is ‘do you remember our first date’” you ask while applying press powder on his face.

“Of course I do! It was a fun picnic date and I gave you a kitty plushy as a gift and we ate yummy food and I couldn’t take my eyes off you, i still can’t, you’re just so beautiful. Even the dress you wore. It’s forever engraved in my mind” His words are so genuine it makes your heart melt.

“Aww babe that’s actually so sweet i love you” you practically look at him with heart eyes.

“Okay is the makeup almost done i wanna see”

“You ruined the moment..yeah i just gonna curl your lashes and put on a lippie”

“I don’t know what you just said but please do it fast” he impatiently said.

“Hamzah don’t move your eye im gonna curl it”

“What da hell is that tool!” He yelled.

“Bro bear with me and do as i say” you gently clamped his lashes and apply mascara on him.

You added some finishing touches: eye glitter, eyeliner, and a glossy lip. You turn to the camera and giggle a bit.

“Is it bad? Can i see y/n! Stop laughing” Hamzah said.

“Guys i think i did a beautiful job. Look at it!!! The eyes are so cute” You grabbed the camera and did a close up shot.

You prop the camera back on the tripod and grabbed a mirror to reveal the final look to him.

“Okkk now look” You handed the mirror to Hamzah.

“Holy shit y/n…i look different” he gasps as he touches the eye makeup.

“You’re giving Hamzah Charles” you laughed.

“Honestly guys she did a good job and i think i’m into boys now” he said to the camera.

“Okay i’m ending this video” you quickly say.

You did your usual outro and Hamzah just smiled while you did so. You turned your camera off and giggled at Hamzah. He gave a confused laugh, not really sure what was so funny.

“Now we’re gonna do a photo shoot” you jump in excitement.

“Are you serious!”

──★ ˙ ̟🐇 ꩜ .ᐟ

Hope yall enjoyed hehehiehehe & keep requesting ideas 💕

[sunsetchicane]

Postcards - Part 1 [LN4]

lando norris x journalist fem!reader

find the series here

word count: 10k

summary: The one where everything begins. You are working a gala and run into Lando Norris. A whirlwind evening brings you to a crossroads, your budding new relationship hanging in the balance.

warnings: tiny bit a swearing here and there, slight sexual innuendo, angst, all around pretty mild (for nowww)

author's note: I am so excited to start this series!! I have been planing and scheming and I can't wait for you all to see it unfold. Releasing part one is completely surreal. As always, feedback is appreciated, so please let me know of any questions/concerns/comments you have. Lots of love and I hope you enjoy!! [xoxo elle]

December 2021

With trembling fingers, you smooth out the fabric of your evening dress. You’ve done this countless times already, but another time can’t hurt. After checking yourself over in the mirror once more, running your fingers through your hair to make sure it looks right, and dabbing on a little more lip gloss, you exit the bathroom to rejoin your colleagues. 

The event space sparkles around you with seasonal cheer. For the last few weeks, you were volunteered, without your consent, to help your department put on a charity gala. Since you were the freshest hire, it made sense that you were put on tasks that didn’t exactly fit your job description. 

When you started working for a prestigious international publication based in Monaco, you expected to jump right in. You were an eager early graduate ready to take on the world at the ripe age of 21. Since you walked into the office on your very first day, you itched to grab your camera and hop on a flight anywhere to start chasing a story. Instead, you’ve spent the last few months being assigned to this and that around the office, slowly climbing your way up the metaphorical totempole. 

Was it egregious at first? Most definitely. 

Being in one place for an extended amount of time has never been your thing. You did two years of university on campus, but quickly grew tired of it. So, you switched to online and finished up in record time, all while hopping from place to place. However, you’ve slowly grown accustomed to seeing the same people everyday and making friends along the way while working in Monaco. It surprises you how fond you’ve become of this place. You’ve never called anywhere home, but this city has become as close as you think you’ll ever get.

Picking up your camera bag and black leather binder, you make your way towards the bar where the rest of the team set up shop. As you walk over to the huddle, you take a minute to truly admire all the work put into this gala. The giant arching windows of the event space are dressed in white and gold silks that match the table cloths and decor. Glittering lights hang from the vaulted ceiling, casting a warm glow over the large room. Candles line every table, causing the glasses and white porcelain plates to sparkle in the sultry lighting. There’s a dance floor in the front of the room, behind which is a short stage filled with the hired band’s instruments. And finally, there’s your favorite part. On the far side of the room, a silent auction is being held. There are tables lined with exclusive works from your company. There are first editions, rare prints, iconic autographed pieces, everything that makes a journalist or a collector want to combust. Finding all of the works that are on auction tonight was an incredibly difficult task, but equally as gratifying. It all looks just how you imagined it – exactly how you planned it.

Stealing a few more seconds for yourself, you snap a few shots of the details. The lighting gives the photos a sensual cascade of warm colors. You adore the way they look and can’t wait to capture more moments as the night goes on.

You hear your name being called from over by the bar. Snapping out of your creative stupor, you briskly walk over to the small crowd of your coworkers. They’re going over final checks to make sure everything is in order before we open the doors in an hour. Bobbi, serving as point for tonight's event, delegates tasks to everyone. As they’re assigned a duty, they bugger off to execute it as quickly as possible. After everyone leaves, it’s just you and Bobbi.

“You need to work your camera so hard tonight that you have to invoice the company for a new one.” She says pointedly, her tone firm and commanding. Bobbi has the ‘scary leader’ bit down to a science. However, you’re not afraid of her. She’s genuinely a great person, not to mention a brilliant writer, and also the closest friend you’ve probably ever had. She’s a couple years older than you and has been a bit of a mentor over the months that you’ve worked under her. She’s the no-nonsense to your fully nonsense life. In short, she keeps you grounded, humble.

“Working her like a racehorse, boss.” You confirm, nodding and giving her a mock-serious face.

“Don’t call me that.” She says while collecting her things into a neat pile. “And wipe that look off your face before it gets stuck like that.”

That puts a small smile on your face as she walks away. You watch as she stops here and there, straightening things out or fixing a wrinkle in a table cloth. Quickly, you snap a couple shots of her when she’s not looking. She looks effortlessly classy in her black dress and heels and slicked back black hair. You can’t help but hope you look as put together as her. But the chances are good you most definitely don’t. A word to the wise: if you’re going to live in Monaco, learn how to dress. Everything here is to the nines or not at all. 

The next hour until the doors open is quick, maybe too quick. You’re in a bit of a tizzy as the guests start arriving. There are countless paparazzis and journalists waiting alongside the carpeted stairs that bring the guests to the front doors. You stand stationed inside to capture the night in candids. Your photos will be used in the next publication, so you have to do well. There’s a lot riding on your performance tonight. No pressure, right? 

Glittering people slip through the doors, spilling into the event. You watch from the edges and shadows as their mouths fall open at the splendor. They lean into each other and whisper about the decor and ambiance. It makes your heart race, wondering exactly what they’re saying. It’s the nosy journalist in you that needs an answer to every question. 

When the moment feels right, you snap pictures as discreetly as you can. It’s your job to be invisible amongst the party-goers. These people are here for charity and to socialize. The money that they haul in with them is far more than you could even bear to think about. It drips from them as they walk; it tumbles from their pockets, unnoticed. Celebrities and politicians and everyone in between has been invited tonight. There’s a tight feeling in your chest as you take picture after picture of the wealthy. There’s a large disconnect between you and these people. Not so long ago, it was a great day if you ended up with three meals and clean clothes to wear. Now look at you–taking pictures of men who wear watches that could finance the rest of your life. 

As the time slides by and the sun settles itself into the horizon, the flow of guests has nearly stopped. A few tailenders slip in before the doors close, signifying the real beginning of the night. The music plays quietly in the background, but is nearly drowned out by the chatter that rises from each and every table. There are groups of people standing and socializing, a few people slung along the bar, and the rest are seated at their assigned spots. Sighing, you let your camera fall to your side for the first time since the first guest arrived. You’ve been working the room, snapping shots of any and everything that catches your eye. 

You walk back over to the foyer, seeking out one last shot before the meal is served and toasts begin. As you walk, you adjust the settings on your camera so you’ll get the shot just right. Without checking around you, you bring the camera up to your eye to test the settings by taking a couple photos. Immediately, your eye catches on someone in the viewfinder. He’s standing along the wall, his head ducked down into a glass of champagne. His eyes are scanning over the bustling crowd of people. You can only see him in profile, but he looks nearly perfect leaned up against that wall with the icy glass pressed to his lips. His black suit glitters in the soft lighting along with his eyes. His skin is a warm tan, working blessedly well with the lighting that surrounds him. Quickly, you zoom in and frame up a better shot of just him. The shutter snaps shut a few times. As it does so, you watch in horror as the man starts to turn his face toward you, looking right down your lens. You capture it all in a line of photos. His furrowed frown melts into a sly smile as he catches you photographing him. He laughs a little while shaking his head.

When you finally take a moment to look at him, you find that you actually know him. Well, know of him. Bobbi’s son has forced you to sit down and watch Formula One reruns with him on multiple occasions. The face of one of his favorite drivers is this face in front of you. Lando Norris, Formula One driver for McLaren. And by the looks of it, a total cocky bastard. A cute bastard, but bastard nonetheless.

Needing to escape this situation, you try to remember why you were over here. You can’t believe you got so distracted so quickly. Thinking briefly, you remember the photo that you need to take. Just as you turn around to find the shot, a voice rumbles in your ear. His accent is acutely British and sends a wave of chills running down your spine. He’s unnervingly close, his breath hitting your ear and neck. It should make you terribly uncomfortable, but it doesn’t.

“Did you get my good side?” He asks smoothly, a hint of humor in his voice. As you turn to face him, there’s a cheeky smile plastered onto his young face. Seeing him this close, it strikes you now just how young he is. He can’t be much older than you, if at all. His hazel eyes are bright and glinting with humor as you stare him down.

“That depends,” You muse, folding your arms over your chest. “Which side is that?”

“You tell me, you’re the professional.” He shoots back with a wink while gesturing at your camera with his glass of champagne. You catch yourself before rolling your eyes, it’s too early to be harassing the guests. Instead, you decide to play his little game. You’re always up for a game.

Bringing your fingers to tap against your lips, you hum in faux concentration. Tentatively, you take steps to the right, examining his left side.

“No…” You say, expressing that it wasn’t his “good side.” But it’s simply not true, all of his sides are good sides. Pressing on, you take a few steps to your left to check out the right side.

“No,” You say again, a little more firmly. Instead of standing in front of him once more, you continue to walk around him. 

“Ah!” Humor is clear in your voice as you stop directly behind him, staring at the back of his head. His hair is fluffy, but styled nicely for tonight. His neck is long and thick, causing his suit to bunch at the collar just slightly. His hands are tucked together behind his back, his glass dangerously close to spilling the remaining contents. You have to admit that he’s quite cute. The internal admission makes you blush to yourself.

“This is perfect.” You joke, trying to shake off your thoughts about him. You bring your camera out to take a couple shots of him. His head turns to the side just enough so you can capture a sliver of his face in your last photo. Once you’re done snapping pictures, he turns around with his tongue tracing over his front teeth. There’s a coy smile that plays on his pink lips. He takes your joke in stride, the humor most definitely not lost on him. You like a man who can take a joke.

“Jokes on you, I know I have a lovely backside.” He says quietly while leaning in to you slightly. One of his eyebrows pops up while he grins at you. You scoff a little while shaking your head. He’s nearly exactly as you’d imagined him. The way his eyes sparkle captivates you, drawing you in. In this lighting it's hard to tell exactly what the color of his irises are, but it’s a challenge you would love to take. You think about holding him close and slowly piecing together the puzzle that is Lando Norris.

Just as you’re about to make a witty comment about his backside, the feedback of a microphone turning on pulls your attention away. Suddenly, you remember that you’re not here to chat and flirt with the guests. You’re on the clock. Chiding yourself for being so easily distracted, you quickly switch the memory SD card in your camera for a new one. 

“Duty calls,” You say quietly to Lando, “Excuse me.”

He blinks at you a couple of times, unsure of how to proceed. It looks as if he wasn’t expecting you to dash out on him. The thought makes you laugh. Everyone should expect you to dash out at the first chance. Though, as you look into his eyes, for the first time in a long time, maybe you don’t want to run. And that scares the shit out of you. Before you do something you’ll definitely regret, you turn on your heels to escape to anywhere but here.

“Make sure you send those to me. I love a good ass pic.” Lando calls to you as you walk away. In spite of yourself, you send him a grin over your shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

For the rest of the night, you try to focus on your job, but you catch your eye wandering. Whether it be of desire or compulsion, you weren’t completely sure, you look for him in the crowd of people. You search for him in the photos you take. His smile has etched itself into your long term memory, his charming demeanor dances across your mind. Savoring every time you get a half glance of him or just a piece of him in one of your photos, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever speak to him again.

The gala drags on. Party-goers get drunk and spend copious amounts on things that most of them will just hang on a wall to glance at occasionally. Staying to the edges as you’ve been told to, you watch in on these people. As you do, you feel something odd settling in your chest, a feeling that you’ll never belong here truly. It’s not a foreign feeling to you anymore, not after everything you’ve been through. However, rejection is rejection. All you are to these people is a silly girl with a camera, a wallflower, the help. A wave of emotion crests in your mind and crashes down into your heart. The overwhelming feeling of needing to run away from here, to escape these people and their frivolous lives takes over all of your senses. 

Checking the time, you decide that you’ve done your part. It’s late into the night and the gala seems to be winding down. Sliding along the walls of the room, you make your way over to the corner where Bobbi has been looming all night. Her eyes scan over a paper in her binder as you sidle up next to her. She gives you a half glance before continuing to read whatever is in front of her.

“Leaving?” Bobbi says in that specific Bobbi way that makes you feel caught. You blame it on the fact that she’s a mother. Hence why you can’t help but feel like a small child caught in the act.

“Uh, if that’s alright with you, bos–Bobbi.” You stammer, feeling a little out of sorts. You usually aren’t the stumbling and bumbling type. Bobbi doesn’t miss it. She side-eyes you carefully, analyzing you from head to toe. After a couple of seconds of feeling like a circus spectacle, she sighs and closes the black binder in her hands.

“Go,” Bobbi says as her hands drop to her sides. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Relief floods through you as the words come out of her mouth. You’re so pleased you think you could actually kiss her on the mouth. But that would be highly unprofessional while on the job. Instead, you thank her verbally. 

Dashing off, you collect your bag and coat from the room in the front. You carefully tuck away your camera into your bag and pull out your wallet. The party continues behind you as you pull your jacket on, sling your backpack over your shoulders, and all but run out the front doors.

December air crashes into your lungs as you slip into the night. You savor the fresh way it fills your lungs, replacing the stifling heat of the party. Taking the stairs in twos, you bound towards the street to hail a taxi. You don’t have a car and biking here in a dress didn’t seem like a great move, so a taxi was the best you could do. 

A few people line the street, standing scattered along the sidewalk in front of the event. The valet kiosk is busy with a few people who seem to be fleeing the party early as well. Smiling to yourself, you can’t help but wonder what is driving each of these poor souls home so soon. What are all of these people running from?

Your eye is caught by a flash of yellow. Raising your hand and reaching out onto the street, you attempt to wave down the taxi. You watch as it slows down and pulls in right behind a car that’s just been pulled up into the valet area. The sleek sports car hums with power that you’ve only recently become acquainted with. Monaco’s collection of cars seems to be endlessly vast and magnificently sexy. In the low lighting, the black car nearly fades into the night. Only the gleaming highlights of the reflective carbon fiber exterior and the glow of the headlights and taillights give away its shape. Your eyes are glued to it, wondering if the rattle in your chest is from the rumbling engine or just your stuttering heart. It’s no surprise when you didn’t notice him stride up next to you.

“Wicked, huh?” Lando says, standing just off to your right. For a few moments in your mesmerized state, you don’t recognize him. His eyes are on you, but you still haven’t peeled your eyes away from the car.

“Yeah,” You agree absentmindedly as you drag your eyes over the vehicle. Everything has faded into a blur, even your waiting taxi a thought of the past.

“Wanna ride?” Lando offers, the words tumbling out of his mouth. With that, your mind snaps back into focus. A frown falls over your face as you turn to the man standing next to you. There’s a warning poised on your lips, ready to tell off some stupid man that just because he has a fancy car, it doesn’t mean that he can just get whatever or whoever he wants. The second your eyes lock with Lando’s, the venom you were ready to spit is gone and lost. His eyes are wide and his bottom lip is pulled into his mouth as he looks at you. Your jaw goes slightly slack and for the first time in a long time, you’re speechless. You really aren’t on your game tonight. Chiding yourself, you shake off your inhibitions and try to fall back into your normal self. 

“I mean,” Lando says while shifting from foot to foot and clearing his throat. “Would you like a ride home?”

Pink has started to creep up his neck and into his cheeks. A pinched and slightly embarrassed expression covers his face. It surprises you slightly. You thought that he was all bravado and classic arrogance. This display of sheepishness has caught you by surprise. Once more, you recognize just how young he is–how young both of you are. Teenage blushing and awkwardness haven’t completely left you yet. Something about it warms you in a way that you desperately need.

Glancing over at your taxi, you weigh your options. But there really isn’t a choice here, is there? Not taking Lando’s offer would be a slap in your own face and a shame to all of your core truths. There’s something deeper at play as well. It feels as though you’re looking into the eyes of fate, your destiny being drawn out before you. Plus, it kinda helps that he’s cute.

“Take me away,” You say, a genuine smile coming to your face. He blinks at you once before returning your smile in full force.

“Come on then,” He says while beckoning you to follow him. In a few brief steps, he stops in front of the passenger door and pulls it open. The butterfly doors lift up, exposing the luxurious interior. You think you might combust. 

“I’m Lando, by the way.” He says, one hand holding the door and the other extending toward you. There’s a slightly smug look on his face. Narrowing your eyes at him, you slide your hand into his. It’s the first time you’ve ever touched. His skin feels warm against yours, his fingertips branding prints into the back of your hand. Sparks fly out from where you’re joined together, goosebumps cascading over your skin. Never have you had a physical connection make you feel this way, let alone a handshake. Something flickers to life deep inside of you. Lando’s touch has just awoken something that you didn’t know was there, but now cannot deny the existence of. 

With your hand still in his, you tell him your name. To your delight, he repeats it back to you. The way it rolls off his tongue, painted in his accent, makes you want to drop to your knees. Sweet like honey is the way it feels to be in his presence. 

“Pleasure,” He says. It doesn’t sound like a casual remark, though. It sounds more like a promise. The thought makes your stomach do a flip.

“Likewise,” You say, your voice coming out soft as velvet. The way his eyes are watching you makes you feel alive. Every nerve ending in your body is standing at attention, ready for whatever comes next. You might call yourself a bit of an adrenaline junkie, and this adventure with Lando has you buzzing. 

“Hop in, love.” Lando says before finally dropping your hand. Butterflies flap in your stomach at the casual endearment. Sending him a small, crooked smile, you slide into the seat in front of you. After closing the door with careful hands, he rounds the car and joins you inside behind the wheel. The hum of the engine fills your ears as you allow yourself to analyze the interior. Black surrounds you, lit up by red LED lights placed around the console and dash. You tuck your bag by your feet before strapping yourself in with the seat belt. 

“Where to?” Lando asks, his hand reaching out. For a split second, your heart starts to race, thinking he’s reaching out to take your hand. It would be a bold move, but not one you’d be opposed to. But he stops short, his long fingers resting over the gear stick. Flicking your eyes from his hand to his face, you tell him your address. He nods and then pushes the car into gear, leading the two of you off into the night.

Now, you should probably have thought twice about sharing your address with a total stranger, but the truth is, you don’t know how long you’ll actually be living here. In your mind, everything is temporary. Permanence has never been a rule in your game. So, sharing your home address with someone you just met and somewhat have started to trust doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. Plus, you don’t think Lando has the stomach to be a serial killer, so he has that going for him.

“How long have you been in Monaco?” Lando asks, his eyes not leaving the road. Taking the opportunity to stare at his side profile, you contemplate how to answer.

“A few months. I started a job here with the company that hosted the event tonight.” You say, shrugging and turning your head to watch the buildings fly by. Lights dance across your eyes, streaks of it blurring into the cityscape around you. You’ve never been in a car like this before. It’s mesmerizing, the way the sound and feel of it mixes with the visual, causing a sensory explosion. Powerful is the only way you can describe it. You wonder how it feels to harness such power. The man next to you does it so frequently, it’s no wonder he is the way he is. This understanding makes you feel warm, like without asking or him telling you, you’ve started to see him. It’s a brand new experience for you to feel this way in a personal matter.

“What exactly do you do there?” He asks, pulling you from your thoughts. You can feel his eyes on you now. The thought of him stealing glances at you while his eyes should be locked on the road makes little fireworks go off in your chest. 

“I’m supposed to be a journalist.” You sigh, falling back into the deep cushion of your seat. “But right now, I’m just working my way up.”

Lando hums in acknowledgement of your struggle. Something tells you that he knows exactly what you mean. It feels so odd to be so comfortable with him, to know that you're being understood too. It scares you a little. Getting close is dangerous, you might end up getting burned.

“Wait!” You say as your eyes catch on a familiar sight. “Pull over here.”

The 24 hour grocery shop near your apartment has become your closest friend. On late nights, you sneak over and peruse the ice cream section. Tonight seems like the perfect occasion to stop by and grab a sweet treat. There’s nothing quite like an impromptu casual ice cream date.

Casual, right?

Casual.

Lando laughs to himself a little, but does what you ask, pulling into a parking space in front of the shop. You send him the sweetest smile you can muster up. He looks up and down your face, his lips slightly parted. The image of kissing those lips flashes across your mind but is gone in an instant. You can’t do that. You barely know him and would hate to give the wrong impression. Of course you’re attracted to him, but nothing can come of this. All this can be is a little bit of fun.

“Come on,” You urge, your hand falling on the door handle. You both exit the car and hurry inside the shop. Mindlessly, you grab Lando’s hand to lead him over to the aisle you’re desperately needing. But, in your hurry, you don’t miss the way he swallows hard when your fingers wrap around his. Having your hand again feels completely natural, as if the two of you had known each other for years. 

Instead of dwelling on the deeper meanings of things or contemplating the intense energy between the two of you, you scour the ice cream shelves.

“Ice cream tells you a lot about someone.” You whisper to the man next to you, exaggerating your reverence to the frozen food section. Eyes flickering up to his, you’re pleased to find him looking at you. There’s a smirk pulling at a corner of his mouth.

“Really?” He coos sarcastically.

“Yeah, so just know I am judging you on what you choose.” You fire back. He smiles now, the apple of his cheeks and the slightest of dimples popping out. Shaking his head at you, he carefully approaches the freezer. He doesn’t drop your hand, however. Your interlocked fingers hang between the two of you while he contemplates his decision. Casting one last glance at you, he yanks the door open and snatched his choice.

Without being asked, he presents you with his selection. It’s peanut butter pecan. Bringing your free hand to your mouth, you try to stifle your laugh. He furrows his brow, looking terribly offended.

“This is objectively a great flavor.” He defends weakly.

“If you’re geriatric, then definitely.”  You shoot back, your voice weak with suppressed laughter. He shakes his head at you, tucking his tongue into his cheek. 

“Go on then.” He says while gesturing wildly with his ice cream in hand. Smiling widely, you take all but two seconds to pluck your favorite from the shelf. With no little amount of flair, you show him your far superior pick.

“Cookie dough? So basic.” He says incredulously, looking completely underwhelmed.

“I think you mean ‘classic.’” You correct, tilting your head to the side. Even when he’s perturbed, you can’t help but admire him. Somewhere along the way, he lost his tie and undid the top button of his dress shirt. His hair is messy now, unlike when you first saw him. He must have been running his hands through it. You wonder what it feels like to run your hands through his hair. 

“I think not.” He scoffs, mimicking your head tilt. Rolling your eyes, you drop his hand to shove his shoulder playfully. You breeze past him towards the checkout. But before you turn the corner around the aisle you glance back at him.

“Come on, mister. We have to get you back to the retirement center before anyone notices.” You tease before finally slipping away. Laughing to yourself, you make your way to the only open checkout counter. The older gentlemen standing behind the counter watches you approach with kind eyes.

“Bonsoir, Anton,” You greet him with a smile before handing him your pint of ice cream. Anton works the night shift frequently, meaning you and him have become very well acquainted.

“Bonsoir, mon cher.” He says back in a soft voice. He scans your ice cream into the system just as Lando comes up right behind you. His chest presses into your shoulder as he leans forward to hand his ice cream to Anton. It occurs to you like a tidal wave that you never want him to move. Having him pressed against you feels like heaven on earth. It’s so right, so warm…

And then it’s gone. He backs up off of you and slides around to pay. Anton hands him the ice creams along with a couple of plastic spoons. Swallowing hard, you glance from Lando to Anton. From the corner of his eye, Anton watches you. You pop an eyebrow at him. He gives you a look that says not bad. Shaking your head at your friend, you can’t help but smile. Anton is right. Not bad, not bad at all.

“Au revoir,” You say with a wink.

“Se comporter,” Anton whispers. “Au revoir.”

Behave. Smiling wildly, you catch up with Lando who’s waiting at the end of the counter. He hands you your ice cream and spoon, which you take gratefully. 

Exiting the shop together, you stand basking in the glow of the shop’s lights that stream through the windows. You peel the lid from your ice cream and open up the package to the plastic spoon before shoving a bite into your mouth. When the cold snack hits your tongue, it sends a chill through you along with a fabulous wave of flavor. Ice cream at night in December might not have been your most practical idea, but damn was it delicious. 

“So, Lando,” You say once you’ve swallowed, bumping your shoulder against his. “What is it that you do?” 

He’s in the middle of spooning a bite into his mouth when his eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up. The spoon hangs in his mouth for a second while he tries to formulate his answer. You can see the ‘you don’t know who I am’ look on his face and hope desperately that he doesn’t voice those thoughts aloud. Of course you do know who he is, but you still want to hear him tell you. 

“I’m a driver.” He says vaguely, his eyes falling back to his ice cream. Pressing your lips into a line to refrain from smiling, you loop your arm into his. You begin walking down the street, lugging him after you. He doesn’t complain, but simply follows your actions, striding alongside you.

“What does a driver do?” You pry, wanting to get a real answer out of him. 

“Drives,” He smirks. Rolling your eyes, you have to admit you walked into that one.

“If you continue to be so vague with your answers, I’ll have to assume you’re a getaway driver. Are we talking full ‘Baby Driver’ here? Or more ‘Fast and the Furious?’ Just so you know, I’m not really a fan of career criminals–” You ramble and badger him verbally to get him to open up a little. Sometimes all you need to do to get answers is just annoy someone.

“I’m not a criminal!” He interjects, a little dumbfounded at your verbose display.

“Would a free criminal admit to being a criminal?” You ponder aloud before shoving another bite into your mouth. His eyes are on you. You pin him with a quizzical look to further your point. He shakes his head and pops another bite of ice cream into his mouth while you continue to stroll down the street together.

“You’re–” He starts, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“Still waiting for an answer. Yes I am.” You say, finally looking up at him with serious eyes.

He gazes down at you softly, his lips drawn to the side as he bites the inside corner of his mouth. You can tell he’s slightly giddy about what he’s going to say to you. He’s gauging your reaction carefully. You flash him a small smile and wide eyes.

“I’m a Formula One driver for McLaren.” He says casually then waits for your response. Honestly, you’re sort of surprised that he didn’t lead with this the entire night. His cockiness is clear, but that’s sort of to be expected when you are one of only 20 people that do what you do. It’s not an excuse or a free pass for arrogance, but it makes sense. You’ve entered the part of the night where you’re going to expose his true colors.

“Oh, that’s cool.” You say equally as casually, downplaying the massive deal that he is. It’s not like you aren’t impressed with him, because you are. But there’s a game to play here and rules to follow. He blinks rapidly as his plan starts to fall to pieces in front of him. It’s borderline hilarious to watch his bravado splinter. He flounders slightly, scrambling to pick up the pieces of his failed move.

“That usually works, right? Telling girls that you’re this international racing star?” You say, putting his failure in the limelight. Red flushes into his cheeks, only slightly noticeable as you pass under the warm glow of a streetlight. He catches on then, his nervousness and embarrassment fading slightly.

“Yeah,” He says, shame being conveyed in his monosyllabic answer. Slyly, you glance up at him, a smirk playing across your lips. It’s fun to make people squirm a little. It makes them realer, more human. A guy like this who spends his time in the public eye deserves to be unleashed into pure, unadulterated humanity every once in a while. Your incessant teasing allows him that freedom.

“Did you know?” He asks after a quick pause, his face pinched into a frown. Instead of answering, you look away and take another bite of ice cream. Scoffing, he stops walking. Slipping your arm out of his, you swing around to stand in front of him. He’s glowering at you. It makes you laugh.

“I knew,” You admit while popping the lid back onto your ice cream. “My friend’s son is obsessed with you.”

He looks at you with wide eyes. You opt out of telling him that you’ve seen all of his races and post-race interviews from this past season. Maybe that’s why you feel like you know him so well. No other reason makes sense.

“Why did you harass me into telling you?” He asks while plucking your plastic spoon from your hand to dispose of in a nearby trash can. 

“I don’t think I harassed you into anything. But, habit, I suppose.” You say while shrugging. It’s the best answer you can give him. You really did want to see the way he acted and get the real answers that you were searching for. There’s a lot to learn about someone in the way they talk about themselves. When he comes to stand in front of you, he has a crooked smile on his face. Relief washes over you when you see that he’s not actually upset.

“Journalists,” He huffs dramatically before flashing you a show-stopping grin. You bite your bottom lip as you gaze into his eyes. They’re bright and glittering in the night, a beacon of light in the darkness. You blink up at the man in front of you, feeling slightly dazed. He’s stepping closer, invading your space. It makes you go completely still. For all of his thinly veiled arrogance and annoying charm, you can’t help but feel drawn in by him. There’s a man inside of those defenses that you’re desperate to see. 

But he isn’t a story to be hunted down and peeled apart, he’s a person.

It occurs to you then that this is highly dangerous. The feelings that have been stirring in you all night because of the man standing in front of you are the type that you always avoid. Growing connections and reaching out to people puts them at risk. There’s never a moment where you’re not thinking about leaving or what’s coming next. You can’t allow yourself to put people in the line of fire. It’s not that you don’t care about people; it’s about not allowing people to care for you. Once you run out of their lives, never to return, you’re the one responsible for their broken hearts if it goes too deep. 

This situation with Lando is a prime example of the thing you’ve always feared. You can tell that Lando is starting to care. He cares about how you see him; he cares about the way your hand fits in his; he cares about the way you smile at him. It crushes you. In a world where this should make you over the moon, you feel six feet under. Tonight is a one night thing. It has to be. It’s the only way to keep you both safe. 

So, you do what you do best. You run.

“It’s getting pretty late,” You say, taking a step back for safety. It physically pains you to say the words out loud, knowing they’re a prerequisite to an unavoidable goodbye. You have to remind yourself that a little bit of pain now is worth it to spare everyone from a heartbreak.

Lando is taken aback by your sudden shift in mood. It’s understandable. Just seconds ago, he was moving in after spending a lovely time with you. Now he’s being rejected. When a small flash of hurt paints his features, you want to wrap him up in your arms and explain to him why you’re doing this. But you know that he’ll just question and fight you. So you don’t explain yourself, you just let him work through his emotions alone.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

The word echoes through your mind as Lando just nods. Without another word, you both turn back the way you came to return to his car. Suddenly, the chill of the winter night that you had avoided with banter and affection, seeps in. It reaches its icy hands around your heart and squeezes. Even though you’re standing right next to Lando, you feel utterly alone. It hurts for now, but you know you’ll find comfort in the familiar feeling once again. You always do.

Lando drives you the rest of the way home. There are few words that pass between you and not one smile. You have to fight yourself not to crack a joke or tell him that you don’t really want to go home. You wish that you could stay out with him all night, talking and laughing and smiling. But you can’t. Some dreams are meant to stay dreams, wishes meant to stay wishes. 

When he pulls up to your building, he tosses the car into park. It surprises you a little when he turns to you fully. His eyes are narrowed and searching. You know exactly what’s coming.

“So this is it?” He asks firmly, demanding an answer. Everything inside of you rebels against the end. You struggle to confirm the worst, the words choking you. It’s been a long time since a goodbye was this hard. You’d let it get too far this time and there’s no one to blame but yourself.

“This is it.” You say, nodding your head and dropping his gaze. Nervously, your fingers fidget with the lip of your ice cream lid. There’s a few moments of silence that solidify your point. It’s not a choice; it’s a necessity. He’ll understand that in time and so will you.

Not being able to take another second of sitting in his presence for fear you might go back on your own decision, you grab your bag and push the door open. As you stand and sling your bag over your shoulders, you watch as he watches you. 

“Goodbye, Lando Norris.” You find yourself saying. Goodbyes are your specialty, so why does this one feel so unnatural? You can’t help but feel like you’re a fate from the ancient Greek myths, cutting off your own thread of destiny.

“Goodbye,” He says, the shears of fate coming to a close along the tie that connected the two of you. 

You shut the door and turn your back on the car. Every single step away feels like a hike up a mountain. A personal sort of gravity tries to yank you back towards him. It would be so easy to fall into his arms, into a kiss that you’ve been dreaming about since you first laid eyes on him. 

Instead of giving into ease, you cast one last look over your shoulder before hiking the rest of the way to your apartment.

The eternal feeling of never again settles into your bones.

—

Sitting at your desk, you lean your cheek against your fist. It’s Monday and you’re, unfortunately, sitting in your office at work. Today’s agenda consists of going through the thousands of photos you took at the charity gala. The part you aren’t so in love with about being a photographer is having to go through the tedious work of selecting the best few photos out of a massive sum. It’s monotonous and tiresome after a few hours and you still have a few hundred more to just look through before you even start editing. 

Sighing loudly, you toss yourself back in your chair. You’ve been sitting here for too long and you’re starting to get antsy. You need a change of pace. 

With your laptop in hand, you waltz into the break room to grab a snack before walking yourself to the stairs. Swift steps carry you all the way up to the roof. Some fresh air sounds like exactly what you need. You wedge the door stop between the frame and the door before carefully propping it open just a crack. Getting locked out would be highly embarrassing. 

It’s an unusually nice day for late December, the sun poking out through the clouds and the wind nothing but a small breeze. You beeline for the spot on the edge of the roof that connects to the stairway building. It blocks the wind and gives you a great view of the city. 

You sit on the edge of the roof, leaning back against the brick wall that encloses the stairway. Your legs dangle freely over the side of the building while your eyes slip over the Monaco skyline. It’s late in the day and the streets are starting to fill with post-work day traffic. Closing your eyes, you listen to the loud hum of city life. 

After a few moments of indulging yourself, you crack open your eyes to begin working again. Firing up your laptop, you resume searching through your photos. But, something in the top corner of your screen makes you stop your scrolling. It’s a little blue folder that you’d made earlier today. On a whim, you collected all the photos that you took of Lando and put them into a folder. A few were actually really great shots that might end up being used in the gala piece. Others that you took weren’t anything special to an outsider.

But, to you, they meant more.

Your heart still carries the dull ache of your night spent together. His smile and laugh still float across your memory. Frequently, you think of him, of his touch. Every part of it was so slight, but it felt perfect. Small moments coalesce into a memory that won’t be soon forgotten. It’s not let you stop thinking about him, constantly opening up the “LN” folder you now have saved on your laptop just to relive it. You find yourself again daring to wonder if this would be the first and last time you would see him. It’s completely out of character for you. Everything about him and this situation is unnerving.

Part of you is unable to let go of him as you have done with everything else in your life. Staring at the photos of Lando, your mind starts to formulate a plan. Jokingly, he asked you to send him that photo that you took from behind him. There are several photos, but your personal favorite is when he started to turn towards you. His profile was captured, exhibiting his nose and lips perfectly. His neck is strained, causing his muscles to pop. And his hands, his gorgeous hands are tucked so neatly behind his back and clutching that champagne glass so perfectly that you can’t not admire them. 

Tossing your other work to the back burner for a minute, you open up your editing application and go to work fixing up a couple of things on the photo. When you’re finished, it’s a glorious black and white picture that makes him glow like a sunspot. Appreciating your own handiwork, you save the photo under a new name into the same folder. 

Without a second thought, you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts before finding the right one. Your call to the PR department is answered within seconds. One of the girls you know who works answers and introduces herself. You greet her warmly before getting down to business.

“I need the address of one of our PR recipients.” You say into the receiver.

“Sure,” She says happily, the small noise of a clicking keyboard can be faintly heard in the background. “What’s this for?”

“I had a request for a print to be mailed to him.” You tell her a half truth, not wanting to get in trouble with anyone. “I told him that I’d take care of it myself. You know how these guys can be.”

You hear her mumble in agreement. People who personally request specific prints from us can be quite picky about how things are handled. You know this little bluff will help you streamline the process of getting Lando’s address.

“What’s the name?” She says. 

“Lando Norris,” You hum to her sweetly, not wanting to jeopardize your mission. The other end falls silent while she goes about looking him up. Your breathing is uneven and slightly nervous. It’s not your first time toeing the line, but bending the rules never fails to get your blood pumping. You love it.

“Found him! Emailing his info to you now.” She says in her sing-song voice. You fist bump the air in success.

“Thank you!” You say before ending the call. The email pops up on your laptop screen immediately. Wasting no time, you open up the application and favorite the email so it won’t get lost. Then you start to compose an email of your own. Scribbling down a few things and uploading the photo, you send it off into cyberspace.

Once more, you scroll your contacts until you find the name of a friend who works in printing. You ring him while chewing on your nails.

“Hello?” He answers, the whir of machines is loud enough to make you strain to hear him properly.

“Michael! Could you do me a favor? I have a guy I need to get a print to ASAP.” You chirp into your phone.

“What do you need?” He sighs, sounding far away and distracted.

Smiling to yourself, you give him the specs. You wanted a large canvas, matte print. Nothing too crazy, definitely doable on a tight schedule. He confirms what you need by repeating it back to you and then lets you know that he got your email. 

“Pick it up tomorrow.” He says shortly before hanging the phone up. You make a mental note to pick up an extra coffee for Michael tomorrow as a thank you.

Happily, you go about finishing your work for the day. You can hardly wait to return to work tomorrow to get your gift sent off to Lando. He’s an international address, so the sooner the better.

You’re a little unsure if this is a good idea. Reaching out to him this way is dangerous. It opens doors that you’ve already shut tight. There’s no closure to be had because everything is already done. There’s no point in exploring this any further because there’s no future here. The only future you have interest in is where you’re going next. 

But, there’s still this pull to make contact again, even in just a small way. It doesn’t mean anything. At least you have to keep telling yourself that until you believe it.

When you finally feel like you’ve hit a good place to pause for the night, the sun has already set and the cool winter night has wrapped up the city in front of you. Sighing, you take a minute to enjoy the brisk chill of the season. Part of you wishes for snow, but the more rational part of you is glad for clear roads. 

The trip down the stairs and to your desk is quiet. The office has been all but deserted, leaving only you and a couple night-owls waiting to call it a night. You make your way to your cubicle, ready to get out of this place for today. Slipping your laptop into your bag, you check over your desk to make sure you have everything. Right before you leave, you scribble on a sticky note to remind yourself to pick up Lando’s print in the morning. It seems useless though because you don’t think that you would ever forget. Once you have it pasted on the corner of your monitor, you turn tail and leave the office in the dust.

Bursting out into the cool Monaco night, you can’t help but feel a little more alive when you escape the office. A deep breath fills your lungs as you make your way over to your bike. It’s the last one in the stand. You unlock it swiftly, mount it, and head off towards your apartment.

The streets of your city are starting to fill once more. Nightlife in Monaco is stretching its arms and blinking its tired eyes. From afar, you watch the expensive cars and people line the streets. There’s no better place to people watch. As you fly by on your bike, you catch only the sped up version. It reminds you of your night with Lando. At this point, everything reminds you of the short time you spent together. Your heart aches to return to that night, to feel the warmth you’ve been missing since you left him in his car in front of your apartment. 

It pains you to stop at the grocery store that you and Lando visited, but you need something to eat. This has become somewhat of a nightly ritual, grabbing food on your way home from work. It’s like a tiny adventure to end your day. But since this place is now tainted with the memory of Lando, it feels less joyful and a lot more melancholy. 

Grabbing some supplies for a sandwich and your favorite drink, you decide that’s sufficient for tonight’s meal. Just as you’re about to pay the cashier, which you’re infinitely glad isn’t Anton, something across the shop catches your eye. It’s a small kiosk of brightly colored cards. They’re postcards. They must have just put them out because you haven’t seen them yet. A small smile breaks across your face as you ask the cashier to give you another minute. 

Postcards have always been a little obsession of yours. When you bounced around from place to place as a kid, you would always grab a postcard from wherever you ended up. There’s something comforting about carrying a little piece of everywhere you’ve been with you. You left lingering pieces of yourself in those places, so it seems only right for you to return the favor. The symbolism is painfully applicable to you and Lando. There’s a piece of you that will always live for him.

Carefully, you select two postcards before rushing back to pay for all of your things.

With revitalized fervor, you bike the rest of the way home. You tie up your bike and bound into your apartment building. Once you enter your apartment, you carelessly sling your backpack onto a chair while plopping the grocery bag onto the counter. You snag a pen from the side pocket of your bag and fish out the postcard you specifically chose for Lando from the grocery sack.

With a small smile on your face in spite of yourself, you write him a brief note on the back of the card. As your pen glides across the surface, your plan lurches into action. 

Little do you know just how far this game will go.

—

Lando leans against the door of his apartment with his eyes closed. He’s finally returned to Woking after a much needed holiday to some remote island in the middle of nowhere. As much as he loves to vacation (and trust that he really loves vacation, all the girls and parties and days laid out on the beach), he’s glad to be home. He was distracted the entire time he was away, and not in the way he intended. His thoughts were focused on something that was gone and lost: you. No matter what he tried, he just couldn’t shake the memory of you. There was something there, something worth pursuing. But you had said goodbye in a way that made it clear he would never see you again.

His head throbs as a tension headache spreads through his temples.

Plopping his bag down in the foyer, he promises himself to take care of it later. Right now, he just needs to find his lovely bed. His eyes search around his apartment in awe, wondering if it has ever felt this good to be home again. Maybe he can find real solace here.

He stops looking around when his eyes land on an oddly shaped package. The logo on it is familiar. Remembering suddenly that it’s the publication that hosted the gala a few weeks ago, he grows hopeful. Maybe it’s from you.

Memories from that night flash into his mind for the thousandth time. The first time he saw you, drawing your camera down from your face after sneaking pictures of him, he knew that he’d never seen a more beautiful woman. He was even more impressed by the fact that you weren’t mortified that he’d caught and teased you about photographing him. Instead, you teased him right back. It made his heart race. You made his heart race. Every part of you was perfect to him–the way you laughed and smiled, the way you looked in that dress that hugged your body just right. He loved the way you spoke. You were unafraid in a way that he’d never seen. Attractive doesn’t even begin to describe you. You were all encompassing, a force of nature that he was in awe of. Meeting you was one of the best and worst moments of his life.

Embarrassment crashes down over him. After spending time together, you had said goodbye in a way that was so final. There would be no reason for you to reach out to him by sending a package. His hope extinguishes. 

Striding over to the package anyway, he scoops it up to bring it into the kitchen. He cuts through the packing tape carefully before prying the cardboard open. When it falls away, he’s met with something large and wrapped in protective paper. There’s a card taped to the wrapping, his name etched onto the front. With gentle fingers, he peels it off and tears open the envelope. The postcard that he pulls out is a photo of large white ships on stunning blue water with “Monaco” written in orange. The orange is a near perfect match to the papaya of McLaren. Flipping the postcard over, he takes in the minimal writing scribed onto the card. 

Heard you’re a big fan of an ass pic. Hope you enjoy.

Your name is written next to the short message with a couple of decorative little hearts. Lando’s face lights up as he reads over the words again and again. You sent him this. His thumb traces over your name before he whispers it aloud to only himself. Desperately, he wishes to see you again. There’s a deep ache in his chest that hasn’t left since you said goodbye.

Setting the card down with care, he then begins to unwrap the gift. When he sees a stellar black and white photo of himself at the gala, he can’t help but grin. He’s turned away from the camera, his slender back on display. It must be one of the photos you took when you were joking with him about his ‘good side.’ The memory makes a flame flare up in his chest. He really hopes that you were checking him out when you snapped this particular shot. This is better than he could have ever hoped for. For a minute, he just admires the photo of himself. He looked good. You were one hell of a photographer. He didn’t realize something so simple could be so cool or done so well.

Setting the canvas down, he looks back and forth between the postcard and the photo. You’d set aside time to do this for him. The hope that he’d been trying to kill since he saw you glance over your shoulder at him before disappearing into your apartment building flares to life with fortified strength.

He’d been too afraid that night to make his feelings known and he’s been kicking himself for it ever since. A million and one ways of running after you have crossed his mind since that night. For all of his thinking and wishing, he hasn’t done anything about it. But you have. Maybe the goodbyes that passed between you weren’t as final as they once seemed. In this new light, he sees your shared farewells deteriorating. Doors once closed are starting to crack open. He’s determined to make the most of it.

He’s determined to get you.

[postcard #1]

[that-ineffable-devil]

I'm processing a lot of emotions tonight and I keep being drawn back to Good Omens--not just because it's the new hyperfixation or because it's so good. That's what I thought it was, at first.

But this year--hell, the last 3 or 4 months especially, I finally started taking steps to accepting and being myself. I'm rapidly approaching middle age and I'm only just now beginning to feel like I'm allowed to be me. I came out to the people in my household, a few select friends, and a few select family members--most of whom were wholly supportive. I started testosterone injections. I stopped trying to be someone I'm not. I stopped hiding who I am and who I love.

What does this have to do with Good Omens? Nothing. But also... Everything.

So much queer representation is in characters vastly younger than me--and that's good! I want queer kids to feel safe and loved and accepted in ways I never did. They deserve better than we had. And it gives me hope for their futures. I bawled like a baby when I watched The Owl House with my son and he was totally unphazed by the queerness. It's just how people are to him.

But when something like Good Omens comes along and not only grabs every opportunity to show average, everyday old(er) queer representation... It just. I've never felt more seen. More accepted. More hope for all our futures. And season 2 just knocked that out of the fucking park. And the nonbinary, genderfluid, and genderqueer rep? My God.

And it's not subtext, it's not it's own separate plotline where they're fighting for acceptance or dealing with hateful bigotry... It's just... Accepted. It's normal. No one questions it. No one even comments on it.

It's people of any age (even millions of years old) being unapologetically themselves and loving who they love openly and fully (with one notable uncommunicative group of two ineffable idiots, but they'll get there).

I just.

I can't express how grateful I am to see older queer rep at this time in my life. It's been a rough year, and I expect it'll get rougher before it gets better. But I've never been happier in my own skin, and it means the absolute world to see my literary and media heroes like Neil Gaiman, David Tennant, and Michael Sheen (and Terry Pratchett and everyone who worked on Good Omens, honestly) making this beautiful, messy, adorable, excruciating, wonderful, heartbreaking, ethereal, down-to-earth tale.

There aren't enough words in all the languages of the world to express how I'm feeling. "Thank you" just feels... Insufficient.

I just hope they know how much it means to people like me, especially after a lifetime of buried subtext and overt queerbaiting and media ridicule and general lack of acceptance, to experience this story with them.

[runariya]

For prompt game: ⚽️🐺🥸🤫

(By the way, i'm so happy it's open again, your stories are amazing 🥰)

Hear me out: an Alpha boxer Jungkook, whose son Koda is on kindergarden, being taught by our lovely omega reader.

But Jungkook is a workaholic, always trying to get his son and deceased mate proud, so reader is upset with him because he never attended any school meeting, by now his son sees her as a mother figure, and relies on her to take and get him home everyday.

One day, school ends early and reader gets to wait for her dearest student's father with him, Jungkook walks in, all bloodied from winning another fight, and finds not only his sweet boy being nurtured by a pretty omega, but also gets asked by Koda to make this nice lady his mother, maybe also get him a baby brother to play with ? And who is he to deny his son something ? Besides, the house is too big for just the two of them, and what's the use of making so much money if you don't have a loving omega and pups waiting by the door ?

(I think this is yandere because he straight up decided she is his mate now, but that's up to you. Also feel free to change or ignore this if you don't like it. Hugs and kisses ☺️)

(sport+ABO+"yandere"+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: Alpha boxer!Jungkook x Omega teacher!female reader genre: ABO, smut warnings: explicit sexual content, breast play, dom!JK, a bit of begging, teasing, size difference, unprotected sex, bonding, marking, knotting, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 3.079

a/n: soooo....i loved this ask sm! another one with full fic potential 😩 but i hope this suffices. i know it's uncommon, but jk's found a whole new bond with OC. I'm a romantic at heart, and she needs a mate k? lol so forget yandere, i made it work this way lol hope that's okay! also, sending hugs and kisses right back~ 💕

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Miss ___, can I have a baby brother?”

You pause, your hand hovering over the clasp of Koda’s jacket as you kneel in front of him. His wide eyes are fixed on you, innocent and full of curiosity, like this is the most natural question in the world. You can’t help the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, even though your heart gives a little lurch. Koda always manages to catch you off guard with these questions, his mind always a few steps ahead.

“A baby brother?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow as you finish zipping up his jacket. “That’s a big request, don’t you think?”

Koda grins up at you, his tiny hand reaching out to tug at the sleeve of your coat. “But I really want one! I told Daddy, but he didn’t hear me. Maybe you can tell him?”

You try not to let your expression falter, but the mention of Koda’s father always stirs up complicated feelings inside you. Jeon Jungkook. The Alpha who is never around. The man you’ve never met, despite teaching his son for almost a year now. He’s a ghost in Koda’s life—and by extension, yours. You hear his name in passing, from teachers, other parents, even Koda himself, but you’ve yet to put a face to the name.

Jungkook’s reputation, though, precedes him. A professional boxer, always on the go, always training or fighting, always… absent. Too busy, too consumed with his career to attend any of the parent-teacher meetings, any of the school events. You’ve never seen him pick Koda up from school. Not once. It’s always a nanny or some assistant, but more often than not, it’s you who ends up driving Koda home when no one else shows up.

Like today.

You try not to let the frustration settle too deeply in your chest, but it’s hard. Koda is five, and he’s growing up without the attention he deserves. You know it’s not your place to judge, but you can’t help the resentment that builds up every time Koda looks up at you with those big, beautiful but hopeful eyes, asking for things his father should be giving him.

“Sweetheart,” you coo gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I can’t make that decision for your daddy.”

Koda’s face falls a little, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he shrugs, a small sigh escaping him, and his little hand reaches for yours. “Okay, Miss ___.”

Your heart aches for him. Koda is so sweet, so full of love despite the gaps in his life. You’ve grown attached to him in ways you probably shouldn’t as a teacher, but it’s hard not to. He’s become a bright spot in your day, and lately, you’ve begun to wonder if he sees you as more than just his teacher.

The way he holds your hand, the way he looks for you in a crowd—it’s not unlike how a child looks at a parent.

You’ve caught glimpses of it, little moments where Koda will reach for you when he’s tired, or how he asks if you’ll be the one to pick him up tomorrow, like you’re something steady in his life.

Today, though, you’re the one driving him home again. Jungkook didn’t show up, and his manager who was supposed to pick him up called to say he was stuck in traffic. After half an hour of waiting and with the sun starting to dip, you decided you’d take him yourself. You always keep a spare car seat in your car now, just in case.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” you say softly, standing up and holding his hand as you guide him out of the classroom and towards the car park. Koda bounces along beside you, chattering happily about his day, blissfully unaware of the nagging frustration building in your chest.

You buckle him into the backseat, making sure the car seat is secure, and he leans back, kicking his feet excitedly. He doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by the fact that his father isn’t there again, which only makes you feel worse. Koda’s gotten used to it, hasn’t he?

The drive to the Jeon estate is familiar by now. You’ve done it more times than you can count, navigating the quiet streets until you reach the tall iron gates that lead to the massive villa. The place is intimidating—cold, imposing, and entirely too big for a single man and his young son. You can’t imagine it ever feels like home to Koda, not the way it should.

When you pull up in front of the house, Koda’s little face lights up. He unbuckles himself as you open the door for him, hopping down and grabbing his backpack from the seat. His small feet patter on the stone driveway as he makes his way towards the front door, and you trail behind, waiting to see if anyone will come to greet him.

“Bye, Mummy!” Koda calls over his shoulder, throwing the words out casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath catches in your throat. Mummy. The word hangs in the air between you, sinking into your skin, your heart.

“Koda—” you start, your voice faltering, but he’s already bounding up the steps, completely unaware of the storm he’s just stirred in your heart.

Before you can process what’s happening, the door swings open, and the nanny—an older woman with kind eyes—waves him inside. You stand there, frozen for a moment, watching as Koda disappears into the house, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Bye, Mummy.

He didn’t mean it, you tell yourself. He couldn’t have meant it.

But the way the word settled in your heart tells you otherwise.

•••••••••••🐺🥊♥️🐺•••••••••••

You glance at the clock on the wall, frustration gnawing at your patience. It’s almost six, and Koda is the last kid left in the classroom, his little legs swinging back and forth as he hums to himself, completely unaware of the time or the fact that, once again, his father hasn’t shown up.

You sigh, pushing aside the stack of papers you were grading and standing up. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and you know it won’t be the last. But today, something feels different. You’re tired—exhausted, really—of making excuses for Jeon Jungkook. Of stepping in when he doesn’t. Of watching Koda sit there with that hopeful little smile, waiting for a dad who never seems to come.

“Stay right there, sweetheart,” you tell Koda, offering him a gentle smile. He looks up at you with wide eyes and nods, still playing with the puzzle pieces on the table. You step out into the hallway, pulling your phone from your pocket, and swipe through your contacts until you find the number you’ve been avoiding calling all day.

Jungkook’s number.

You’ve never actually spoken to him, not directly. It’s always the nanny or the assistant, someone else standing in for him, making excuses on his behalf. But today, you’ve had enough. If he can’t be bothered to show up for his son, then maybe he’ll listen when you lay it out for him. You press call, the phone ringing in your ear as you lean against the wall, occasionally peeking back into the classroom to check on Koda.

The ringing stretches on far too long, and just when you’re about to hang up, there’s a click on the other end. But it’s not Jungkook.

“Hello?” A deep male voice, but not the one you were expecting. It’s his manager—another gatekeeper between you and the man who should be here for his son. “Who’s this?”

You swallow the irritation bubbling up in your throat and answer, “It’s Koda’s teacher, ______. I’ve been waiting for someone to pick him up for over two hours now. Where’s Jungkook?”

The manager clears his throat, and you can already hear the excuse forming in his voice before he even says it. “Ah, yeah, about that. Jungkook just finished a big fight a little while ago. He’s still dealing with press and recovery, so he won’t be able to make it. We’ll send someone to get Koda.”

You close your eyes, the frustration mounting. You’ve heard this same spiel too many times now, and it’s always the same. Always some excuse about the fights, about his busy schedule, about why he’s too important or too caught up to come pick up his own child.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice tight, barely holding onto your patience. “But this has gone on long enough. Koda has been waiting for hours, and it’s not fair to him. If Jungkook doesn’t pick up his son in the next hour, I’ll have no choice but to contact youth welfare. This is unacceptable.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence on the other end, and you wonder if maybe you’ve finally gotten through. The manager stammers a bit, clearly caught off guard. “Uh, I’m sure we can get someone there soon. There’s no need to—”

“Jungkook. An hour,” you cut him off sharply. “That’s all the time he has.”

Without waiting for a response, you hang up, exhaling a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your hands are shaking with a mixture of anger and guilt. You’ve never been one to throw around threats like that, but you’re at your breaking point. Koda deserves better than this—better than a father who seems to have forgotten what it means to show up for his son.

You peer back into the classroom, your heart clenching when you see Koda still happily playing, completely unaware of the tension outside. He deserves so much more than this.

The minutes tick by, each one feeling longer than the last as you sit back down at your desk, your eyes flicking to the clock every few moments. With every passing second, you feel the frustration building, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. You’ve done everything you can for Koda, but you’re not his mother, no matter how much he looks at you like you might be.

Then, just as the clock ticks closer to the hour you’d set, the door to the classroom swings open.

You don’t have to look up to know who it is. You feel it before you even see him—the shift in the air, the sudden prickle at the back of your neck. There’s a strong presence that fills the room, something that tugs at a part of you that you didn’t realise was waiting.

Jeon Jungkook.

When you finally glance up, your breath is lost in your throat. He’s standing in the doorway, still dressed in the aftermath of whatever fight he’s just won. His knuckles are bruised, lip split, his jaw clenched, but it’s his eyes that hold you captive. Dark, intense, and far more focused than you ever expected.

Your heart stutters in your chest as your gaze locks with his, and for a moment, the rest of the world seems to fall away. The anger, the frustration—it all pushes into the background as something else entirely takes its place. It shouldn’t be possible, not when he’s already found his mate—his late mate, who passed when Koda was just a baby. A bond like that is meant to be for life, unbreakable, irreplaceable. And yet, here it is, something deep and undeniable, something that shouldn’t exist but does.

You blink, forcing yourself to break the eye contact, but it’s too late. You’ve felt it. He’s felt it. That connection, that pull.

And suddenly, everything is different.

Koda turns his head slightly, peering up at his father with wide eyes, and then—without a hint of hesitation—screams at the top of his lungs, “Daddy, can you make Miss ___ my mummy? And maybe give me a baby brother?”

For a second, you’re convinced you didn’t hear him right. Surely, Koda didn’t just blurt that out in front of his father. Surely, this isn’t happening. But when you glance at Jungkook, the look on his face tells you that, yes, this is happening. His dark eyes glimmer dangerously, and for a brief moment, a smirk lifts at the Alpha’s lips.

You stand up quickly, your heart still hammering in your chest. “Koda, you can’t just—”

“I’m serious!” Koda insists, his voice high-pitched with excitement. He’s bouncing on his toes now, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. “Miss ___ is really nice, and she makes me happy! And I want a baby brother, too!”

You don’t know what you expect him to do. Maybe scold Koda. Maybe just walk out. But instead, Jungkook finally breaks the silence with his voice surprisingly quiet and melodic voice. 

“We’re leaving. You too.”

•••••••••••🐺🥊♥️🐺•••••••••••

How you find yourself pressed against Jungkook’s bedroom door after having dinner and putting Koda to bed is beyond you, but you don’t question it when you’re too busy enjoying Jungkook’s searing hands on your body and his teeth nipping at the skin of your neck.

“My pretty Omega,” he licks a stripe up your throat, ending right at your earlobe as he husks, “you’re mine, hm?”

The whimper and moan escaping your throat can’t be held back, not when his hips press into your clothed cunt just right.

“Yes.”

You’ve never felt this aroused, this high on an Alpha’s scent as you do now, though you reckon it’s just what a mate does to you.

Jungkook rips the top of your dress in half, taking your bra with his powerful pull and leaving your heaving chest exposed to his hungry eyes. His hands are on your tits in an instant, kneading them together as his tongue laps from one nipple to the other, sharp teeth grazing the pebbled tips ever so carefully.

“Jungkook,” you moan, thighs squeezing him a bit closer, hands gripping his hair desperately.

“What do you want, baby?”

“You, just you.” You moan, head hitting the wall as another wave of arousal soaks your panties.

Your head swims from the undeniable strength Jungkook has as he carries you to his bed with ease, and when your back hits the mattress and he rips his own shirt in two, you think you might come there and then. You’ve felt his muscles while you were groping each other, but seeing his physique is maddening beyond words. You regret not watching one of his fights before, just to not be so utterly shocked and bothered by the sight alone.

And as you rub your thighs together, Jungkook emits a low growl, “Stop.”

And you do, whimpering as the little relief you had is now gone too.

“Please, Jungkook.”

“I’ll ask you this one time, and one time only. Do you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want that bond?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking strip.”

And you do, hastily removing the torn dress, bra, and your panties from your trembling body, eyes never leaving Jungkook as he leisurely unbuckles his belt and gets rid of his clothes as well.

His dick springs out of his boxers, the red, leaking tip pointing at you as if aiming where it needs to go. Your mouth waters at the sight, salivating with the same need that has your cunt soaking the sheets.

“Open up,” he demands, and you do, tongue outstretched as he starts jerking himself off, teasing your lips and tongue with his precum and the weight of his big, girthy cock.

“You want to suck it, don’t you?”

Your eyes snap up to his, dark, blown-out pupils scanning your face, but you’re only able to nod ever so slightly.

“You look so small,” he muses, and he’s right. Compared to his cock, your head looks like a miniature, making your thighs again rub needily against each other, knowing he’ll stuff you full, no matter which hole he chooses.

“Should I prepare you, or can you take it?” Jungkook smirks down at you.

“Can take it,” you need to, because God forgive you, you need him inside you now.

Jungkook just chuckles, but he doesn’t argue as he crawls onto the bed like he’s chasing his prey. You push yourself backwards, enjoying this little power play as much as he does. It’s when you’ve nearly reached the head of the bed that you let yourself lay back, Jungkook now hovering over you and pushing your legs apart.

“My beautiful Omega,” he inhales deeply, and you can’t do anything but press your cunt against his tip, letting him slip inside.

At first, you fear he’ll pull back again, but as he groans ever so slightly and starts thrusting, inch by inch, you know you’ve got him.

“Oh my God,” your eyes roll back as your cunt finally adjusts to his sheer size, and he begins moving his hips with strong, slow thrusts, making you cling to his back, nails digging into his muscles.

“___, baby.” Jungkook growls, savouring the taste of your lips like it’s pure honey. There’s nothing you can do but surrender to him, surrender to the bond tying you together with each stroke of his cock.

And just before your high hits you, as Jungkook overwhelmed you mere hours ago, you turn your neck, offering it to him. But he tilts it ever so slightly, just enough for you to have a clear view of his too, spotting nothing but bare, smooth skin where once another mark was. 

You shatter the moment your teeth sink into his flesh, causing him to pick up his pace and bite down as well, groaning through his release, hot breath brushing against your skin as his nose presses into you.

The knot that forms is more ecstatic than you ever imagined, fighting against the clamping of your cunt and leaving you lost in yet another release. And while you’re tied together, you’re licking your marks closed, still breathing heavily, Jungkook cradles your head in his big hands, guiding your lips to his in a kiss more loving than you ever thought possible.

“I’m sorry. I’ll never let you down again, never let Koda down again.” He promises between kisses, diving into your mouth as if it’s the air he needs.

“I hope you won’t.”

“I won’t. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”

“I love you too,” but you sure as hell won’t believe him until he says it fully dressed and with post-nut clarity.

[gleafer]

You've probably been asked this before-- but how did you learn to draw like that? It's incredible, your likenesses especially. Amazes me every time I check your page. I know the answer is probably mostly Time and then More Time, but is there anything in particular that you think helped? Timed sketches? A certain way of doing studies? Any book recommendations?

*Runs through wall a la Kool Aid Man to answer this question because HOLY HELL DO ARTISTS LIKE TALKING ABOUT THEMSELVES*

Ahem!

Well! The very best, yet worst, but really best thing I’ve ever done to get good at drawing facial expressions was to do three military tours…er…summer seasons at Great America as a caricature artist!

Nothing will give you the practice needed to up your skillset quite like drawing for 13 hours straight while being heckled by large groups of overly sugared, vicious teenagers for 12 weeks in sweltering summer heat.

YOU SUUUUUUCK! Became my battle cry instead of inner monologue of art student sadness.

Thick skin grew, as did my ability to draw likenesses and expressions. (Granted most of the expressions I drew were of boyfriend’s faces all stupidly sappy, ogling their girlfriend who were drawn extra sassy with obnoxious eyelashes. But that’s just how you do with caricatures.)

Anywho!

I’m not saying you have to go join a traveling circus of caricature artists to test your artist’s metal (though it wouldn’t hurt and you’ll have a bounty of bizarre stories for the grandkids when alls said and done!)

However, practicing everyday, while pushing comfort levels and being brave with your lines, will improve your art/illustrations.

And if you think having groups of teenagers making fun of your art, loudly hinting your fashion sense is severely lacking and “DID YOU EVEN ART SCHOOL??” while sticky, little kids swarm into your personal space to the point of almost crawling into your mouth as their parents wander off to the beer garden would actually help you, Great America is always hiring…

for fresh SOULS!

🎶just keep drawing! Just keep drawing!🎶-Dori, probably

[sensational-blue]

The Amazing Digital Café AU Masterpost

Introducing my TADC AU called the Cafe! au!

This AU is a slice of life kinda story akin to that of anime that focuses on maid cafes and the like, as well as the everyday modern life of the TADC cast + my OC.

(p.s I have no clue what Im doing when making this master post. lol)

Info Cards

I am very excited about this AU and I hope you all enjoy this first little tidbit of the character introductions.

Also if you have any questions, wanna say something about the characters, wanna give some suggestions, funny ideas to draw, or anything,

MY ASKS ARE OPEN

(please send me asks I think it would be so fun) Anyway, Enjoy!

I will be updating this later when I have more.

[scarlethexelove]

Not Supposed To Happen

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 2322

Warnings: A bit angsty, Fluff, Angry Wanda, Wanda blinded by anger, It all works out, Pregnancy, Really nothing much.

Pt 1, Pt 2

A/n: Ok so this is part 3 of Love Story and I actually split it into 2 parts so there will be a 4th to round it out. Wanda gets a little anxious and upset at reader. Also I know medically it's so wrong but we just going to blame it on the magic. That works right just blame it all on the magic. This is kind of shitty but whatever.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The backyard of your house is filled with all your friends and family as you celebrate the twin’s 5th birthday. You can’t believe how big they have gotten. Everyday you look at Az and see a mini version of your wife running around. You watch as Peter is being chased by the twins in the yard. All the giggling and laughing coming from them. MJ is sitting in a chair in the shade as her hand sits on her pregnant belly. Steve, Thor, and Tony are all arguing over who is the best at grilling. Sam and Bucky are standing around drinking beer giving each other lovey dovey eyes.

You chuckle to yourself looking at them. You always thought that it would be Steve and Bucky who would end up together but when Steve got with Sharon you were happy for him nonetheless. Then it was Sam and Bucky pining over each other. Your eyes drift over to see Sharon with Pepper and Aunt May. You watched as Peggy (Steve and Sharon’s daughter) and Morgan joined in on chasing Peter around. You laughed as he got taken down when the two older girls joined in.

Carol, Valkyrie, Nat, and Maria all drinking and enjoying themselves. Nat had a strong arm wrapped around Maria while Valkyrie had one around Carol. You were happy to see everyone happy with someone. Even Bruce had a girlfriend but neither of them could make it to the party. You then felt arms wrap around your waist and an even bigger smile stretching across your face. 

“How’s your leg today baby?” You were leaning on your cane that you have to use some days. After the accident it became clear that your leg would never be the same. Some days when it was hard to move and painful. There was severe nerve damage to your leg but you're happy to be alive and have your family with you. “It’s ok, not much pain, just some stiffness.” Wanda takes her left arm from your waist and snakes it down to your thigh and starts to massage your muscle. A small moan escaping your lips without you even noticing but Wanda does when you feel her smirking against the back of your neck.

“Will you two get a room?” Carol calls from the other side of the yard. Valkyrie slapping Carol against the head. “Kids, there are kids running around.” Carol tries to defend herself. “Sorry, not sorry.” Valkyrie chuckles holding her wife. You chuckle at their display. “It’s just about my leg so no room is needed.” You yell back.

“Do you ever regret it?” Wanda asks softly. “Regret what?” You question what she is asking “Having to retire from SHIELD?” A smile spreads across your face. “Never, I have you and our two beautiful babies. And besides Tony has me helping him when he can’t get through a firewall.” You turn around in her grasp to see her giving you loving eyes. “I love you so much Y/n.” Wanda smiles at you which you return. “I love you more.” You gently kiss your wife. 

“Mommy!”  You hear your daughter yelling for you. You turn back around to see Peter holding Az up high as she wiggles in his grasp. “Peter, I swear to god if you drop my daughter. Wanda won’t be the one you have to run from.” Peter gently sets her down. Az and Billy comes bounding over to you and your wife. You pick up Az in your arms and Wanda picks up Billy. “Uncle Peter said we are going to have a little cousin to play with soon.” Billy said happily as Wanda placed a kiss on his head. “Yeah, you are.” You reply looking between your wife and twins.

“Mommy, Mama, when can we have a younger brother or sister?” Az questions the both of you. You both look at each other with wide eyes. Neither of you had, had the conversation about other kids since you almost died twice around when the twins were born. “Well sweetheart your mommy and I will have to see about that one. We love both of you very much.” Billy folded his arms over his chest pouting a bit at your wife’s words. “I want a baby brother so I’m not the only boy. You asked what we want for our birthday. We want a baby brother or sister.” You're taken aback by what Billy just said but you can’t help but think of how great it would be to have another mini-me of Wanda running around. Billy looked like a spinning image of you when you were a kid. You pulled Wanda in close to you as you both held onto the twins.

“Foods ready!” Tony yells from the grill as the twins struggle to get out of both of your arms. You both set them down as they run towards the food. You hug onto Wanda and whisper in her ear. “I think maybe we should think about having another. I love seeing your mini-me running around all the time. Though it’s your turn this time.” Wanda chuckles as she kisses your cheek. “Well of course it is.”

Both of you know that it would have to be her no matter what. After giving birth to the twins, you were told your chance of having another baby was one in a million chance. The damage done was severe. Both of you smile, looking at everyone enjoying themselves as the party continues.

It’s been 8 months since the party. Wanda is out grocery shopping while the twins are at school. You on the other hand have your face in the toilet bowl throwing up. You were so out of it you never even heard the front door open or the footsteps coming to your bathroom. You hadn’t even heard your name being called out. “Y/n?” Nat’s head peaked into the bathroom as you looked up at your best friend.

“Natty? What are you doing here?” Nat comes over and crouches down next to you. Moving your hair out of the way and rubbing up and down your back. “Are you ok?” She asks with concern written all over her face. “I’m fine. Just been feeling sick the last few mornings is all.” Nat’s eyebrows furrow at your words. “Y/n could you be pregnant?” Nat joked at you. “Not really helping here.” You mumble. “Y/n/n is it only in the morning or other times of the day?” Her face is sympathetic. “Just in the morning. Why do you ask?” You lean your head against the toilet bowl. “Y/n when was your last period?”

You open your mouth to answer but quickly close it when you think back and realize how late you are. “It’s not possible.” You scramble away from the toilet as you run into your room and open the top drawer of your dresser. Nat is close behind you. “Ok gross didn’t need to see your sex drawer.” Nat grimaces. “Haha, not funny Nat.” You look through the draw and find the two vials. One completely full and the other mostly gone. When you flipped over and read the label.  

“Well shit.” You breathe out the realization hits you. “What is it?” Nat asks you. “Wanda used the wrong one.” You turn to face her. “What?” You held up the two vials for Nat to see. One saying that it was fake and the other was the magical sperm for Wanda. “Oh.” Was all Nat could say when she realized what you meant.

You pull out your phone and nervously dial your wife. Hoping that she doesn’t think the worst before you can explain. “Hi baby, do you need something from the store?” Wanda’s voice comes over the phone. “Baby I need you to listen to me before you react ok.” Your voice is laced with anxiety. “Okay.” Wanda says hesitantly. “I need you to grab some pregnancy tests.”

“What they fuck do you mean pregnancy test?” Wanda’s voice is laced with venom. “Baby you said you would listen.” Wanda let out an angry huff. “I’m listening.” You could tell she was gritting her teeth. “You used the wrong one.” You try to explain. “I used the wrong one, right.” Wanda sounded angry, like she didn’t believe you. But before you could answer back you felt another wave of nausea hit you. You threw the phone at Nat as you ran into the bathroom. “Y/n Y/m/n Maximoff, I swear to god you better not – “ Nat cuts Wanda off on the phone. “Y/n would never. Now you need to calm down before you come back here but seriously bring some pregnancy test and maybe some Gatorade.” Nat quickly hangs up the phone as she rushes to your side.

Wanda leaves her cart in the middle of an aisle before running and grabbing some pregnancy test, some Gatorade and a pack of Oreos. She doesn’t want to be mad at you, but her thoughts are racing, not really listening to anything after you said pregnancy test. She checks out the few items before quickly driving home. Once she has gotten home, she rushes upstairs to find you and Nat in the bathroom.

Nat quickly stands placing a hand on Wanda’s shoulder seeing her fuming with rage. You look up with a weak smile, but it drops when you see your wife’s face. Nat grabs the bag and places it next to you as she pushes the angry Sokovian out of the bathroom. “Wanda, you need to calm down.” Nat’s voice raising. “I can’t believe it.” Wanda said her voice was laced with anger. Nat doesn’t want this to escalate; she pulls Wanda towards the dresser, opening the drawer and seeing the two vials you had shown her. She hands them to Wanda. “This is not her fault. If it is anyone's, it is yours.” Nat defended you knowing that you would never betray your wife in that way. Not with the things you have been through and what you two have been through together.

Wanda grips the vials in her hands and looks down at them. She looks at the almost empty one and reads the label. As she does, you're getting up from the toilet and standing in the doorway of your bathroom to your bedroom. “It was that night we got drunk.” Wanda looked up at you. You had a small smile on your face. You push off the doorframe and walk towards Wanda. “You wanted to have a little more fun than just drinking since Nat so kindly took the twins that night. You know how much I love it when you use the fake stuff and decide that night was a great night to use it.” You explained. “And I grabbed the wrong one.” Wanda said lowly looking down at the ground.

You were now in front of Wanda. You placed a finger under her chin and made her look you in the eye.“It was supposed to be your turn this time.” You chuckled. “But how. The doctor said it would almost be impossible.” Wanda’s eyes meeting yours. “Key work almost.” Nat added. Both of you shot her a look before she put her hands up in defense. “I guess you're just that good.” You place your forehead against hers as you look into her eyes. 

Wanda smiles softly at you. “So, are we taking those tests or what?” She says as she pulls you back towards the bathroom. You see the bag on the floor and notice the Oreos sticking out. “Aww you remembered.” You can’t help the growing smile. “How could I? You almost killed Tony and Nat for eating the last of your Oreos when you were pregnant with the twins.” She chuckles. “To be fair you don’t mess with a pregnant woman.” You smirk. “I still have the scar from where you stabbed me with the fork.” Nat adds at the end. “I told you not to eat my Oreos.” You give her a quick quip. “And I learned an important lesson.” Nat raises an eyebrow. “Good now move out so I can pee on some sticks.” You pushed Wanda and Nat out of the bathroom.

A few minutes pass as you wait for the test results to be shown on the different pregnancy test that you took. The buzzer on your phone goes off when the results should be back. “I can’t look.” You bury your face into the crock of Wanda’s neck. She wraps her arms around you as one hand rubs up and down your back. “Everything is going to be ok detka.”

Wanda motioned for Nat to look at them as she held onto you. She moves over picking up the first test. The corners of her mouth twitching up into a smile. She looks at the next one as the smile spreads across her face. Wanda watches as Nat’s smile grows. “Well, it looks like you’re going to have to deal with another Maximoff running around soon.” Nat said excited for you two. You pull away from Wanda and grab the test out of Nat’s hand seeing a plus on the test.

“We’re having another baby?” You look at Wanda who just shakes her head yes. “Good thing two cause this little one is going to have a best friend.” Your face covered contorts with confusion. “What?” You turn around to face Nat. “Well, the reason I had come over here was to tell the both of you that Maria is pregnant. I wanted to tell you two first, but this makes it all the much better. Our kids can grow up being best friends.” You can’t help it when you burst into tears hearing those words. Both women wrapping you in a hug as your happy tears soak into Nat’s shirt.