#it would be so cute though....................

[timetravellingshinigami]

What? 😭😭

fuck it, mods asleep. post the forbidden ocship. the ghostdoves ♥

[sunniques]

— 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !

your stepdad shows you how much he loves to have you by his side.

❥ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader

❥ GENRE: stepdad au, smut

❥ WORD COUNT: 10.3k

❥ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, age gap, reader can be picked up by cheol, grinding, begging, breeding kink, daddy kink, spanking, nipple play, thigh riding, oral sex (f & m), unprotected sex, riding, office sex, morning sex, creampies, overstimulation, cockwarming

NOTE: PLF MASTERLIST. don’t like, don’t read. as always, huge thank you to my oomf @wonustars for beta reading <3

Seungcheol is in love. He’s deeply, irrevocably in love with an amazing, beautiful woman who makes him feel more alive than he has in years. Falling for you was the easiest thing he ever did. It was so easy that he didn’t realize it was happening until it was too late. When he thinks back, he can pinpoint the exact moment this feeling started to develop. It began after the first time you two had sex; on the night you snuck into his room and helped yourself to his cock like it was already yours.

Just below the surface, Seungcheol knows the entire situation isn’t right. Honestly, it’s something that probably should’ve never happened, but he doesn’t care. For once in his life, he’s going to be selfish and indulge in his depraved desires without caring about any of the potential consequences. Maybe he’s lost his mind, but if loving you is insanity, he never wants to be sane again.

There is one problem, though. Seungcheol still hasn’t told you about these very real feelings he has for you. Not in the way they were meant to be expressed, anyway. Saying it during or after sex isn’t as intimate because of the fact that those are the only times he’s said those three little words to you. The last thing he wants is for you to think that he’s love bombing you or you thinking it’s the sex talking. While you are the best sex he’s ever had, being with you is more than that. 

There’s also the (not so) small fact that you’ve never said those words to him. The most he’s gotten is a love you or love this from you. Seungcheol isn’t the insecure type, but the longer he thinks about it, the more it makes him think you might not love him how he loves you. Part of him knows you feel something for him, but there’s also a small doubt in the back of his mind that maybe you’re not serious about being together.

It’s not like he doesn’t understand if that is how you feel. A young woman with her entire life ahead of her might not be ready or willing to settle down so quickly. Seungcheol isn’t foolish enough to think that you’re willing to put off your goals and dreams just for him. Not that he would want you to, but the thought of you picturing a future that he’s not a part of breaks his heart. Even the mere thought of not being important to you kills him, and he tries his best not to think about it constantly.

Unfortunately for him, he’s forced to confront this very real possibility when he unintentionally hears you talking on the phone with one of your friends one day. 

After a long meeting, he came home with the urge to hold you in his arms and decompress. Seungcheol doesn’t think twice about heading straight for your room with the intention of relieving all of his stress with your help. Your bedroom door is ajar, and just before he can walk in, he realizes you’re on the phone. You have it on speaker loud enough for him to hear everything.

“Did you buy your ticket already?”

You hum as you roll onto your back and look up at the ceiling unseeingly. “Yeah. I bought it a while ago.”

A high pitched squeal of excitement cuts through the peaceful silence. “Okay. Don’t forget Chan and Vernon are coming too, so make sure you pack that cute two piece you have—you know, the black one.”

Seungcheol feels his heart drop because he knows exactly the swimsuit your friend is talking about. It’s the same one that drove him crazy on your vacation last week. The worst part about this entire situation is not the fact that you’ll be around guys your own age, but the fact that you never mentioned going on a trip at all. It makes the most insecure part of him start to spiral, and he can’t stand by anymore and listen to you be so excited for this trip you never bothered to tell him about. 

So he leaves quietly, taking his heavy heart with him.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice something’s bothering Seungcheol. He’s been a little distant, and even though he never opted out of spending time with you, you can tell his mind is somewhere else whenever you two are hanging out.

“Cheolie, what’s wrong?”

Seungcheol snaps out of his self-deprecating thoughts and realizes the movie on the TV is paused. Your eyes shine with concern as you stare at him. His heart throbs painfully because there’s this glimmer of hope he feels that he knows might end up turning into disappointment. Are you really worried about him, or is he deluding himself into thinking that you care more than you actually do?

“Nothing.” 

The response slips out before Seungcheol can fully think it through, and immediately he can tell that you don’t believe him. You sit up and turn to face him fully. The incredulous look on your face does nothing to take away from your beauty. He almost smiles because in this moment, it feels like you actually care about him. 

“You’re lying,” you say, voice bordering on demanding. “Did something happen?”

Seungcheol can’t look away from your piercing stare. He’s never been one to hesitate, but he’s also never felt like this about anyone before. You have his heart in your hands, and he knows that no matter what he does, he’ll never get it back. The craziest part is that he doesn’t want it back. Because he gave it to you, and Choi Seungcheol would never take back something he gave you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re going on a trip?”

You’re floored by the words that come out of his mouth. Not because of the question itself, but because of how vulnerable he sounds when he says it. His eyes are shining, but not in the way you love. You can tell he’s holding back tears, and you can’t stand the crushed look on his face.

“Is that why you’re upset?” You ask tentatively. “Because I didn’t tell you?”

Seungcheol looks away. Your tone isn’t mean or dismissive, but he’s still embarrassed by how upset he’s gotten over you not mentioning your plans to him.

“I just– Why wouldn’t you tell me? Do I mean that little to you?” 

“What? How could you even say that?” You exclaim in disbelief. “You know how much you mean to me!”

There it is again. You have no problem telling him that you care about him, but you still don’t say the words he’s dying to hear. And once again, it makes his chest tighten in the worst way.

“Yeah, but you don’t love me, right?”

A thick silence follows his words. Suddenly everything makes sense to you. For some reason beyond your belief, Seungcheol doesn’t know about the very real and intense feelings you have for him. You almost laugh at the absurdity of it. How can he not see just how deep your feelings for him are?

Seungcheol can’t deny that he loves the expression on your face. Despite everything, the look in your eyes makes Seungcheol start to doubt all the distressing thoughts plaguing his mind. Had his insecurities gotten the best of him and made him overthink about your feelings for him? It’s starting to really feel that way.

Without another word, you climb into his lap and take his face into your hands. His wide eyes stare into yours as you gently stroke his cheeks. “Is that what you think? That I don’t love you?”

Seungcheol swallows thickly before he answers you.

“You never say ‘I love you’ to me, and maybe that’s my fault because I’ve never properly told you that I’m in love with you, but—”

“You’re in love with me?”

You relish in the way Seungcheol’s eyes widen. A cute blush spreads on his cheeks when he realizes what’s slipped out of his mouth. He doesn’t regret it, though. Especially when he sees how you light up at his words. Your eyes are shining with joy like he’s given you the only thing you’ve ever wanted. There’s also a hint of vulnerability that he doesn’t miss. It makes him realize he’s been overthinking and worrying for nothing.

“Of course I am. How could I not be?”

Seungcheol is more genuine than you’ve ever seen him, and you know right then that no one will ever make you feel as loved as he does. You grin and smash your lips onto his, your movements full of passion and need. He responds to your kiss eagerly and with a deep groan. His tongue slips into your mouth as his hands slide around your waist to pull you closer to him. Your soft lips feel like heaven, and Seungcheol wonders how he could’ve ever doubted that you don’t feel the same way.

When you pull away, you cup his face again. “I love you too, Seungcheol. I’m in love with you.”

The smile you get is blinding, and at that moment you know you’d do anything to keep that look on his face. 

“Yeah?” Seungcheol can’t keep the grin off his face. “You really love me?”

“More than anything.” You tell him honestly as you caress his face.

“Tell me again,” he demands cutely.

“I love you, Choi Seungcheol. I love you so much.”

His pretty smile is bigger than you’ve ever seen it. Seungcheol is a perfect picture of happiness, and you have to commit the beautiful sight to memory. He starts pressing sweet kisses all over your face, telling you how much he loves you between each one. You laugh joyfully as he holds you close. Nothing will ever compare to the feeling of having such an amazing man love you, and you wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world.

Seungcheol’s bright eyes look up at you with ardent love. The emotion is undeniable now, and it makes your heart soar all over again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the trip,” you say as you run your hands through his hair. “I was going to tell you about it once you told me about your business trip.”

Seungcheol pouts at you. “I didn’t mention it because I was going to cancel—”

“I know,” you say in a chastising tone. “And although I love spending time with you, I don’t want you to always cancel your work trips because of me. Your work is important which is why I decided to go on the trip in the first place.”

Affection tightens around Seungcheol’s heart. He can’t believe he ever thought you might not love him when it’s so obvious that you do.

Seungcheol buries his face in your neck as his body slumps in relief. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, baby. I just hate being away from you.”

“I do too,” you admit easily. “You have no idea how much I want to be with you as much as possible. I just don’t want you to think I’m clingy.”

Seungcheol pulls back and keeps speaking to you with his cute pout that you love so much. “I like clingy. I’m yours so you can cling to me all you want.”

You grin slyly. “Okay. Just don’t regret it later.”

Seungcheol smiles and presses another chaste kiss to your lips. “Never.” 

For your stepdad, the small peck is not enough. He’s quick to deepen the kiss into a heated one. You moan when his tongue slips into your mouth. With a quiet whine, you grind down on the growing bulge pressing into you. Seungcheol groans as his hands slide under your shirt to undo the clasp of your bra. Immediately, you take your shirt off and discard it on the other side of the couch. Seungcheol tugs your bra off before he shoves his face between your soft tits. 

“God, I love these pretty tits,” Seungcheol’s hums as he mouths at your skin.

Big hands palm your tits, making you keen into him. Seungcheol smoothes his thumbs over your nipples over and over until they’re hard.

“Oh fuck,” you mewl as Seungcheol plants wet kisses on your stiff buds. Your hands tighten on his hair as he starts to lick and kiss your nipples.

“Fuck, baby. You just love it when I put my mouth on these pretty nipples, don’t you?” 

You moan in response as his grip on your tits gets firmer. Seungcheol squishes them together and starts to suck on both of your aching buds at the same time. You cry out and grind down on his huge bulge. Wetness pools in your panties as he starts nipping and biting at your stiff buds. He runs his tongue over your nipples until you’re crying out loudly.

“Daddy,” your eyes roll back as you go to tug on his hair. “Fuck. I love it when you suck on my nipples.”

Seungcheol groans. “Yeah? Daddy’s going to have to play with these pretty tits every day from now on then.”

Your clit pulses with need as you grind down on him. “Yes, daddy. Please.”

As always Seungcheol’s cock throbs when you ask him so politely. His hand slips into your panties to feel how wet you are. His groan is deep as his fingers glide across your slippery cunt, parting your needy slit to tease your clenching hole.

“You’re already so wet, baby,” he hisses in delight. “This needy little pussy needs my cock, hm?”

“Yes, Cheolie. Need your big cock to split me open,” you moan as you start to grind down on his fingers.

“You know I can’t deny this greedy pussy anything. Take off your clothes for me.”

With an excitement that makes Seungcheol’s heart swell with affection, you get off his lap to take off the remainder of your clothes. He does the same, discarding his shirt and tugging down his pants enough to free his cock. You salivate at the sight of his fat dick resting against his thigh. It’s throbbing and leaking and all ready for you to take.

You eagerly sit on his lap, mewling softly when you feel his cock throb and pulse against your cunt. Seungcheol reaches down and strokes his dick for a bit before he smacks it on your pussy. Slowly, he notches the leaking tip at your hole and guides himself in the first few inches before moving his hand away to grab your hip while the other reaches around to grope your ass.

“Come on, baby. Sit on it. Sit on your stepdad’s cock,” he grunts. Dark eyes watch your pretty tits as you slowly sink down his length. “Goddamn. This tight little pussy was made to be stretched out like this.”

Your eyes flutter shut once you feel him bottom out inside your cunt. No matter how many times you take his dick, you’ll never fully get used to the amazing feeling. “It’s so deep, Cheolie,” you whine wantonly. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Seungcheol’s cock throbs, and he bucks his hips upward to fuck you even deeper. The rough motion makes you fall forward with a loud cry. You grab his shoulders and bury your face into his neck with a needy whine. Big hands grope your ass before they start bouncing you up and down on his cock. Your moans are loud and impetuous as he starts pumping his girthy cock into your gushing hole.

“Rub your cute little clit for me, princess,” Seungcheol directs you, not wanting to stop squeezing and kneading your plush ass. “Make yourself cum on daddy’s cock. Fuck. Squeeze my dick nice and tight, just how I like.”

Your hand quickly slides down between your bodies. A choked moan slips through your lips when your fingers circle and press down on your swollen bud. The ministrations make your velvety walls flutter and tighten on Seungcheol’s aching cock.

“Good fucking girl,” your stepdad groans as he slaps your ass. Once again, your cunt clenches in delight as you cry out. “Fuck, baby. Can’t wait to cream this sweet little pussy.”

You moan with every brutal thrust of his cock, wanting nothing more than for him to creampie your cunt. Seungcheol’s fat tip hammers against your g-spot ravenously, driving you closer to your orgasm. He slaps your ass repeatedly until you’re pushed over the edge. Your entire body trembles as your pussy milks his cock. 

Seungcheol moans when he feels your orgasm soak his dick completely. He fucks his cock deeper into your tight pussy until it’s fluttering around him all over again. With a deep grunt, he buries himself inside you and shoots his hot load into your cunt. Thick ropes of cum continuously stuff you to the brim until his seed starts to drip down his cock.

You sink into his chest, fully sated and satisfied. Seungcheol caresses your back and sides, making no move to slip out of you.

“I want to sleep with you tonight,” you mumble into his skin. “And every night from now on.”

Seungcheol grins and kisses your temple sweetly. “Don’t worry, baby. I already have plans to do just that. I’ll make it happen tonight.”

You hum in content, loving how he’s always so quick to give you what you want. Just knowing that you’ll be able to sleep beside him whenever you want now makes you feel deeply satisfied and excited. Finally, you’re a step closer to living the life you want with the man you love.

That night, you hear the argument between your mom and Seungcheol. You can’t keep the smirk off your face when he tells her to go to the guest bedroom downstairs and stay there from now on. Guilt and remorse are things you’re unable to feel, especially when you get a text from Seungcheol telling you you’re free to come to the master bedroom whenever you want.

Despite wanting to go right away, you wait a bit in case your mom comes up to your room. She never does. 

With a sly smile, you practically skip down the hall to the master bedroom. Seungcheol is beaming and smothers with sweet kisses when you close the door behind you. The feeling is sweet, and you immediately pull him into a needy kiss. Seungcheol groans into your mouth and starts to walk you to the bed, his lips never leaving yours.

You smile into the kiss when he pulls you closer to him. He’s just as excited as you are, and neither of you care that your mom is downstairs. You giggle against his mount when he falls back into the bed and takes you with him.

“Let me make you feel good, daddy,” you purr as you reach down to cup his cock.

“God, baby,” Seungcheol groans as you squeeze and rub his clothed dick. “You know I can never tell you no.”

You grin triumphantly and sit up to take your sleep shirt off. Seungcheol groans when he sees you’re completely naked underneath. You tug on his own shirt and he’s quick to discard it. He’s eyes flutter shut when you start trailing wet kisses down his chiseled torso. You slowly inch your way until you get to his sleep pants. Impatiently, you tug them down until his cock springs free.

It’s already starting to leak with precum, and you don’t wast any more time to get your treat. Seungcheol groans deeply when you lick up every last drop from his leaking tip. He feels your lips and tongue gently kissing and caressing at his fat cockhead, lathing underneath the skin before lapping up the drippy precum from his slit. You repeat your sinful motions before taking him fully into your hot, wet mouth.

“Mmh, good girl,” your stepdad groans as you start bobbing your head up and down his cock. 

Soft sucking noises sound through the room as you moan around his cock. A syrupy-like pleasure builds in Seungcheol’s lower abdomen as you eagerly suck his dick. He can only moan because it just feel so fucking good. A gently hand settles on your head, lovingly combing through your hair as you slobber all over his thick cock

You can feel yourself getting wet, especially when Seungcheol starts thrusting up into your mouth. The tip of his cock is hitting the back of your throat and makes you gag around him. You eagerly sink more of your mouth onto his leaking cock. A guttural moan slips out of your stepdad’s lips when he feels your spit dripping down his throbbing length.

Seungcheol’s fingers twitch in your hair as his pulsing tip brushes the back of your throat. He groans when you pull of his cock and plant adoring kisses all of his cockhead before dragging your lips down his thick cock. You sensually lick a broad stipe all the way up to the tip. Seungcheol’s cock throbs as you slide it between your lips again. A thick glob of precum spills out and you’re quick to lap it up. Seungcheol’s eyes roll back as you keep sinking your hot little mouth onto him.

At this point, he’s leaking with so much precum that you didn’t doubt he’ll give you your treat soon. You lick up every drop like it’s the tastiest thing ever. 

“Baby,” Seungcheol moans as you continue to suck his dick eagerly.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. Be a good girl and swallow daddy’s load.”

With a wanton moan, you take his fat cock deeper down your throat until you’re choking around him. The feeling makes the coil in his stomach snap immediately. Seungcheol groans loudly as his balls tighten. His cock throbs and pulses wildly as he pumps a load of hot, sticky cum down your throat. You swallow everything he gives you, loving how ropes of his thick cum fill your mouth until it’s spilling around the edges and dribbling down his cock all the way to his heavy balls.

“That’s it, brat. Swallow all of daddy’s cum,” Seungcheol hums lovingly as he caresses your cheek.

You don’t move right away. Instead you pull of and start to kitten lick his twitching cock until all of his cum has been cleaned off. Seungcheol’s eyes are full of affection as you sit up. His eyes are drawn to your wet lips and blown out pupils. Just seeing the remnants of cum on your mouth makes his cock throb all over again.

Seungcheol sits up and smashes his mouth against your, moaning as you respond with as much eagerness. Without breaking the kiss, he lays you on your back and starts to trail wet kisses down your body, just like you did with him.

“Been thinking about eating your little pussy since earlier,” Seungcheol confesses as he spreads your legs. “Finally I can make you feel good in our bed.”

You moan when he presses a sweet kiss on your pulsing clit. He gently nips it, making you writhe in pleasure.

“Please,” you whine, bucking your hips impatiently.

Seungcheol groans and starts to make out with your pussy. He does it sensually, lips moving all across your heat. The way he sucks and licks your slick pussy lips makes you arch into him. The cute little noises you’re letting out are enough to get him hard all over again.

When he pulls back and spreads your lips with his fingers, he moans at seeing the amount of juices leaking from your pussy. Seungcheol greedily fucks his tongue into your wet hole, eager to lick up all your wetness. You moan loudly and roll your hips into his mouth, eyes crossing when his nose bumps your clit.

Your stepdad groans when you thread your fingers in his hair and tug on it. He fucks his tongue deeper into your fluttering hole, grinding his nose on your puffy but. Seungcheol’s dark eyes watch you fall apart, and it only makes him hungrier for you. He runs his tongue through your wet hole and immediately presses his face deeper into your cunt.

His hot tongue licks every inch of your dripping pussy. He laps up all the arousal leaking from your clenching heat. Seungcheol presses his nose down on your sensitive bud until you’re crying out for him. He can’t hold back his smirk when he feels your body start to tremble in his hold. Your grip on his hair tightens to make sure he keeps his mouth on your pussy. 

“Daddy!” You mewl, hips rolling into his mouth. “Gonna cream all over your tongue. Fuck!”

Seungcheol’s dark eyes watch you carefully as you arch up into his thrusting tongue, head grinding against the mattress as you moan loudly. He hums against your cunt, lapping up every drop of your orgasm. You’re completely satisfied as he places another kiss on your pulsing clit. He moves up over your body slowly, kissing every inch of your soft skin as he goes. 

Seungcheol goes to kiss you with a groan, pleased at the way your lips part to eagerly kissing him back. His fingers trail down to your pussy, smirking when you whine into his mouth. It’s loud and needy.

“Shh, baby,” Seungcheol’s tone is deep and wicked when he pulls away. “Your mom’s downstairs. You don’t want her to come up here and interrupt us, do you?”

You joked back another whine, clit throbbing underneath his fingers as he circles the swollen bud over and over again. His fingers dip down to part your pussy lips, gathering slick between the digits before sliding back up to rub wetly across your clit. He lightly spanks your cunt, making you buck your hips forward. 

“Daddy,” you whimper, nipples hard and aching in need. 

Seungcheol slides his cock between your juicy lips, soaking his fat length in your arousal. You moan so loud that your stepdad has to cover your mouth with his free hand while he uses the other to press his tip into your clenching hole. 

“Greedy little girl,” the way he laughs in your ear makes your cunt throb. “You don’t care that you’re gonna get us caught, baby.”

Seungcheol’s eyes flutter as more of your juices coat the tip of his dick while he presses himself deeper into your fluttering walls. You can’t stop whining against his palm as he works his cock all the way into your pussy, burying himself balls deep with a low groan. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re extra tight and wet tonight,” Seungcheol grins as he starts to roughly thrust into you. “You like that your mom can walk in on me stuffing your hot cunt?”

Your loud wail is muffled by his hand, and Seungcheol groans as his cock start to slam into your g-spot. He smirks when you start to grind up to meet his thrusts. Your stepdad slows his movements to gently grind his cock inside your soaked hole as his fingers tease your pudgy clit. 

“Should I just let you make all the noise you want?” He says as he fucks his cock deeper into your hot cunt. “Let your mom hear how much you like your stepdad fucking your tight little pussy.”

Pleasure pools in your stomach at the thought, pussy fluttering wildly around his cock. The milking compression of your cunt makes Seungcheol take his hand off your mouth. The thought of his wife hearing your filthy moans pushes him closer to the edge.

“You like that?” He laughs as his cock throbs. “Fuck. Nasty little brat. Of course you do.”

“You do too, daddy,” you moan quietly. “I can feel your cock throbbing inside me like it’s going to explode. I know you wish your wife could see me like this—stuffed full of your cock.”

Seungcheol groans deeply, fucking into you harder. His hips pick up speed as he fucks into your squelching pussy like a feral animal. “Goddamn. You’re squeezing me so tight, baby. Gonna make me creampie this cute pussy.”

Your stepdad doesn’t care that your moans are getting louder. He keeps slamming his cock into you with the goal of making you cream all over him. He feels your orgasm approaching from how much you’re tightening around him. Seungcheol’s fingers stop their slow pace and start rubbing your clit in tight little circles that make you squirm against him. 

“Cum for me, baby,” your stepdad grunts. “Cream all over my cock with your sexy little pussy. Show daddy how good he fucks you.”

Seungcheol rocks forward one more time, brushing across the spongy spot in your cunt. That band of arousal snaps. Your cunt clamps down on his cock like a vice, walls pulsing and fluttering around his fat length. 

“Daddy,” you whine into his neck, hips still fucking into his.

“Fuck that’s it. Such a good girl,” he whispers in your ear.

Seungcheol is close to his own orgasm, and he starts hammering his cock into your sensitive pussy. His fat dick is fucking into you so hard all you can do is whine and moan.

“Take daddy’s cum, princess. Fuck. Take it all,” he hisses as he buries himself to the hilt, cock pulsing as he shoots his load into your cunt. 

You whimper softly when you feel hot rope after rope of his thick cum filling your pussy to the brim. After a few minutes, he finally pulls out with a wet schlick. Cum drips from your used hole, and the sight makes your stepdad feral all over again.

Without warning, he shoves his cock back inside you. He stifles your cry of pleasure with a wet kiss. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as he snaps his hips into yours with the goal of completely ruining you.

“Da-Daddy!” You squeal against his lips. “Y-Your cock—too much!”

“Don’t be a brat,” Seungcheol groans as his cock presses deeper into you. “Not when you love it every time I do this.”

He’s right, and the ring of cream on his cock growing thicker and thicker is proof of that. You love it when he pushes you past your limits. Seungcheol loves it even more, though. He’s completely obsessed with the way you tremble against him and how your desperate whines never stop. He loves seeing how worked up you get on his cock.

“Maybe I should get this on video, so you’ll never forget.”

He reaches for his phone when you clench around him in agreement. Seungcheol can’t believe he didn’t think to record your first night in this room together earlier, but better late than never. He aims his phone where you two are connected, capturing the leaky mess that’s spilling from your cunt and down your ass. He has no doubt the video is perfectly catching your needy whines and the lewd squelching of your cunt. 

“Fuck, daddy. Hurry up and cum in me.”

Seungcheol grins deviously as your cream stains his cock. “Greedy little brat.”

It’s late when you two are done fucking. The thought of your mom was long forgotten. As you lay in Seungcheol’s arms (which feels more intimate than usual), you contemplate how you’re going to make sure you have him to yourself once and for all. You fall asleep easily as you picture a life where Seungcheol and you are living a happy life together.

You wake up feeling blissful, belatedly remembering why you’re not in your own room. A strong pair of arms pull you into a broad chest when you try to get up. You don’t try to fight the smile spreading on your face when you turn around in his arms to look at Seungcheol’s sleepy face.

“Morning, baby,” he murmurs. His voice is rough with sleep, making you press your thighs together. 

"Morning," you whisper, nuzzling into his neck.

Immediately, his hands go to your hips as he rubs his hard cock against your bare pussy. You sigh softly, noticing the tiniest bit of sunlight peeking through the blinds.

“We have a little bit of time before I have to be at work,” he kisses your neck as he rolls his hips to grind his cock against your slippery slit.

“Daddy,” you mewl, bucking forward with a whine. “Want you in my pussy.”

Seungcheol groans and rolls over until he’s on top of you, pressing your body down into the mattress. Your toes curl in anticipation as your pussy clenches around nothing. “Want me to fill up your cute little cunt?” 

You smirk at him. “I want you to breed me, daddy.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, rocking against you harder. His cock throbs and pulses as it glides between your puffy lips. “Daddy’s gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

With that, he ruts his thick cock against your slick cunt, fat tip pressing right on your clit. “Gonna fuck this little pussy nice and deep.”

You shudder, eyes fluttering shut as Seungcheol presses his cock into your drippy hole. He grunts, shoving himself as deep as possible until you're squirming from the pleasurable pain of his tip kissing your cervix. 

“That’s it,” he moans, “My little brat’s got the tightest fucking cunt.”

Your nails scratch along his back, making him grind even harder against you as your pussy squeezes around his dick rhythmically. Seungcheol fucks your pussy with slow thrusts, barely pulling out before fucking back into your pliant body. You lose complete track of everything, only able to feel Seungcheol’s cock stretches you open. He loses control as he bullies into your hot cunt over and over. 

All you can hear is skin on skin as Seungcheol stuffs your pussy with his thick cock. He moves his hand in between your bodies to rub at your swollen clit. You trade soft wet kisses, tongues slipping back and forth. With every thrust, Seungcheol drags his cock along your g-spot, sloppy squelching noises filling the room, disturbing the quiet ambiance.  

You’re in a daze, orgasm coiling tight in your lower belly as Seungcheol’s thick cock slips in and out of your clenching hole. 

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you moan softly, pulling him in for another wet kiss. 

“Then do it, baby. Cum all over my cock. Squeeze me tight so I can breed this cute little pussy,” he groans, hips snapping harder against you.

He picks up his pace, fucking you quicker than before. His girthy cock plunges into your drippy cunt hard as his hand rubs your sensitive bud with firm circles. 

“Oh, oh!” You let out a breathy cry as your orgasm washes over you in a slow wave of pleasure.

“Fuck, baby. Tight little pussy feels so good.”

Your body is still thrumming with aftershock as you wrap your legs around his waist. Your pussy clenches down on his cock like a vice, milking him as he fills your cunt with hot, sticky cum.

“So much cum,” you mewl tiredly. 

Seungcheol bites your neck gently, cum leaking out around his thick shaft, “You love it.”  

The high of climaxing is still bubbling in your veins. “Mhm. Love it when you fill me up with cum.”

He pulls out with a hiss, loving how his cum drips out of you and down to your pretty ass. Seungcheol wishes that he could stay in bed with you, but you remind him that he doesn’t have that option. You laugh as he gets out of bed with a pout. Eventually, you get up to go shower in your own room, feeling more rested than you have in a long time.

After you shower, Seungcheol sent you a message to let you know he left first. You laugh when you read the sulky part of his message about not getting a goodbye kiss from you. With a promise to never let it happen again, you go downstairs and find your mom sitting on the couch. You’re surprised to see that she’s still home, but you don’t say anything about it.

“Hey, mom.”

“Sweetheart,” she smiles, but it looks forced. “Sorry I didn’t make any breakfast. I woke up late.”

Although her breakfast is never anything special, she never deviates from her routine. Not waking up on time is so unlike her, and you know it’s because Seungcheol kicked her out of their bedroom. You sit on the other end of the couch and watch her closely. She doesn’t look at you. Her stare is blank as if she’s completely numb.

“Are you okay, mom? You look—”

“Sweetheart,” she interrupts, not really hearing you. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Sure,” you say even though you feel unsure of what she’s going to ask for. “What is it?”

“Will you spend more time with Seungcheol? He’s been distant lately, and I…” she trails off, but you know what she’s trying to say.

“You think he won’t cheat on you if I’m around.”

Finally, she looks at you. “It’s only temporary. Just until he’s not mad at me anymore.”

You nod solemnly, barely holding back your devious grin. “Sure, mom. I’ll make sure to keep an eye on him.”

You press the button to the top floor, fixing your blouse and skirt so you look perfect. Ever since you decided to cling to Seungcheol to your heart’s desire, you’ve been visiting him at work whenever you had the chance. 

As always, you’re greeted warmly by the staff as you walk towards the back where Seungcheol’s office is. As the boss, he has a personal office away from where the rest of the workers are. You walk down the hall with a smile, excited at seeing your stepdad again. You knock on the door and wait for him to give you the green light to come in.

“Cheolie.”

Seungcheol smiles at the sound of your voice. He disregards the work on his desk and stands to greet you with a kiss.

“Come here, baby.”

He walks you over to his desk and pulls you down to his lap as he  sits on his chair. You’re straddling one of his thick thighs, and immediately you start to get wet. Your hands come up to brace against his shoulders while his slacks rub against your bare thighs where your skirt is hiked up.

Seungcheol presses a soft kiss on your neck, leaving a heated trail up to your jaw. Pulling back, you can see how dark his eyes have gotten. “I’m glad you’re here, princess. Been thinking about you all day.”

One of his hands tangles into your hair as he guides your mouth down to his. Your parted lips lets him slip his tongue into your mouth. Groaning, he grabs your ass with his free hand and urges you to roll your hips forward. You whine, feeling so hot and dizzy with arousal. Your clit pulses with excitement as you follow the guidance of his hand and start to grind your hips down into his leg. You eagerly suck on his tongue when he thrusts it into your mouth. You feel him groan low in his chest, and it makes you arch into him more. Whining, your hands come up to tangle in his messy blonde hair, tugging gently when he sucks on your tongue. 

“You taste so good, baby,” he whispers against your mouth before dragging his lips down your jaw. “Fuck. I’m gonna eat your pretty pussy right on top of my desk.”

“Daddy,” you whimper, rocking your hips forward, and he groans, hands sliding to wrap around your waist. “What if we get caught?”

“No one comes in here without my permission,” he reassures you. “So we can do anything we want, baby.”

“Don’t be so greedy, daddy,” you laugh through a moan as your stepdad trails wet kisses down your neck. “What will your subordinates think if they see me walk out of here with your cum dripping down my leg?”

Seungcheol groans against your soft skin, cock throbbing at the mere thought. He gives you a nasty smirk, and right then you know what’s going to happen next.

“They’ll think that you’re the woman who’s going to be my future wife.”

“Fuck,” your eyes flutter while he sucks on your neck.

“So let daddy cream your sweet pussy, brat. You know you want me to stuff you full.”

You whine in need. “Yes, fuck. Cream my little cunt, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he nips at your jaw. “I’m gonna breed you until it’s time to go home, baby.”

Your toes curl in your heels as you gasp and grind down on his thick thigh.

Seungcheol smirks. “You like that, princess? Like that I’m gonna creampie your needy cunt? Of course you do. Slutty little brat loves it when her stepdad breeds her, hm?” 

Your pussy flutters and throbs at his filthy words. You’re so turned on that you can’t hide your erotic expression.

“We haven’t even started yet, and you’re already acting cockdrunk,” he says through a laugh.

“Daddy,” you whimper as you rolls your hips. “Want you so bad.”

“Look at the mess you’ve made, sweetheart,” Seungcheol groans as his eyes drop down to where you’re grinding your pussy on him. “Just look at how your needy little pussy’s soaking my pants. Fuck. That’s it, baby. Fuck yourself on my thigh like a good girl.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders, wrinkling the fabric of his designer shirt. It all feels so good, and you know you can cum from this alone. You whine, humping down onto his leg harder. Your juices pool in your panties and drip all over his pants.

“God damn, baby. Such a good fucking girl. Always so good for me,” he lets go of your hair to grab the back of your neck. “Always so eager to please.”

Seungcheol smirks as he slides his thumb into your panting mouth. He presses it down on your tongue and lets you suck on it before pulling his thumb free and smearing spit all over your lips. You whine again, desperate for him to give you what you want. Your stepdad lets you go only to tug your button up blouse open. 

“You have the prettiest fucking tits,” he groans as he pulls undoes you bra and tosses it behind him.

Your breasts are completely bare, aching nipples on display and eager for his touch. Seungcheol slowly drags his fingers across the swell of your tits. He circles your sensitive nipples, thumbs brushing the hardening buds. Your breath hitches as arousal pulses in your cunt.

“Cheolie,” you say to make him give in, but it only makes him want to savor you more.

“Daddy’s going to make a mess out of you just by teasing your pretty tits.”

Your back arches into him, pressing your tits into his hands. “Please, daddy. They’re so sensitive”

Seungcheol groans and gently tugs your nipples. He pinches them roughly before soothing them with slow drags of his fingers. Panting, your hands twist in the fabric of his shirt. Your clit throbs with every brush against your nipples, and you can’t stop keening into his touch. 

Everything Seungcheol is doing has more arousal pool in your panties. You’re so wet, and it keeps dripping down to where your stepdad’s pants are pressed against your pussy. You can see his big cock straining against his pants. A thrill goes up your spine knowing you’re the cause.

“Always so eager for me, princess,” he teases, voice deep and raspy. 

Seungcheol lifts you off his thigh and settles you right on his growing cock. Your hands go up to his hair and tug gently as you roll your hips on the huge bulge in his slacks. He gives your nipples a sharp tug then tweaks them as you writhe in his grasp.

“Just look at how wet you are, baby,” he groans, dark gaze drawn to the juices dripping from your panties. “Desperate little slut.”

A pleased sigh tumbles past your lips as you continue to play with his hair.

“You drive me crazy, Y/N.” Seungcheol growls out, letting his gaze roam across your swollen nipples and  up to your dazed expression. “Always acting so sweet and making me want to do the filthiest things to you.”

“Yeah?” You whimper excitedly.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you do to me, sweetheart,” he says as he drags one of his hands from your chest up to your lips. You moan when he slips two fingers into your mouth. “Want to keep you on my cock all the time. Can’t stand not being inside you.”

Seungcheol presses his fingers deeper into your mouth. You whine and suckle on them softly, swirling your tongue around them like you would his cock. Your stepdad grunts and pulls them out with a soft pop.

“Touch me, daddy,” you demand through a throaty whisper as he drags those fingers down to your puffy nipples.

Seungcheol concedes immediately. He greedily mouths at each tit and sucks on your nipples, teeth catching on the sensitive buds until you’re clawing at his shoulders again.

“Such a bratty little girl,” he hums fondly, feeling you shudder at the endearment. “But always so good for me. You’ll be good for me this time too, right?”

“So good,” you promise with a grin.

That’s all your stepdad needs to hear to suck one of your hard nipples into his mouth as his hand teases across the other with quick flicks of his damp fingers. Like always, he goes back and forth, swapping sides as his dark gaze watches you bite your lip and toss your head back at the pleasure. Pulling away a little, Seungcheol grabs each tit and presses them together—an action he’s becoming fond of lately. He runs his tongue from one nipple to the other more easily, suckling them until you’re squirming in his lap.

Seungcheol groans low in his chest and rolls his hips to grind his cock against your hot, wet cunt, almost jostling you from his lap. In the same motion, Seungcheol’s sharp teeth tug on one of your nipples, earning a breathy cry from you. He swaps to the other nipple, using his teeth so you’ll reward him with more of those sounds. After repeatedly teasing each nipple with his teeth, you tug on his hair in a silent plea to slow down. He eases off from biting to soft, gentle sucks.

“Love your tits, baby,” he mouths at your nipples. “So fucking perfect.”

You cry out at the hot, wet suction of Seungcheol’s mouth on your sore nipples. Your back arches forward to press your chest closer to his hungry teeth and tongue. You start grinding your hips down, feeling him moan against your tits. With a sly grin, you repeat the motion only this time your clit grinds against Seungcheol’s slacks, earning a low cry of want.

“Cheolie,” you whimper.

He only hums in reply as he keeps up the hot suction on each hardened nub. You try rolling your hips again only to be stopped by a strong grip on your waist.

“I want you to cum from this,” Seungcheol grunts, voice deep as his tongue lashes against your abused nipple. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

You mewl, clit pulsing in arousal. “Yes, daddy.”

A sharp tug of teeth on your nipple has you arching in pleasurable pain. Your hands slide up into his hair again to hold him in place so he keeps worshiping your chest. “So perfect,” Seungcheol murmurs, lazily mouthing his way up to your neck. “So sweet for me.”

The way he speaks against your skin and gently kisses across your collar bones drives you crazy. You feel dizzy and aroused. All you can do is grind down on the outline of his hard cock and tug his hair to pull him into a soft kiss. Seungcheol groans low in his chest, pressing you harder against him as he licks into your mouth. He teasingly nips at your bottom lip, sucking on it gently before slipping his tongue further in. You moan in response, loving the feel of his slick tongue teasing your own. His hands came up and grip your hair, tilting your head at an angle where he can kiss you even deeper than before.

Before long, the kiss becomes sloppy and wet, but neither of you care. You can’t stop whining in pleasure as his tongue fucks into your mouth and teases your own. Chest rumbling in pleasure, Seungcheol draws your tongue into his mouth to suck on it greedily. You slip your tongue away to pull his plump bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling gently before softly sucking. You drag your teeth aggressively against Seungcheol’s lip, tongue following in silent apology for the rough treatment. 

Your stepdad growls and pulls back far enough for you to let his lip go with a small pout. His cock twitches at how debauched you look. Pupils blown wide with lust and lips swollen. He moves his hands from your hair to grip your hips. You know his hold is tight enough to bruise, but you only moan in appreciation. Fingers start to roughly pinch and rub your swollen, sore nipples again. His dark eyes never leave yours as you edge closer and closer to orgasm. Your cunt is copiously dribbling with arousal.

“I’m so close, daddy,” you whimper, grinding down on him like an animal in heat.

Seungcheol smirks and decides to tease you a little. His fingers lightly grace the hard peaks, not fully giving them the attention they crave. His gaze drops from yours to take in the swollen nipples his fingers are touching. He groans loudly, knowing he can’t deny himself another taste. You grip his head as your stepdad starts eagerly lap at your nipples, running his tongue across each one before gently biting.

“Daddy!”

Seungcheol bites down harder on your left nipple as he gives the right a sharp twist. Your eyes roll back in your head as he gets even more aggressive. Harsh bites followed by a hot soothing tongue has your cunt dripping and needy.

“I know you like it rough, baby.”

You can only moan wantonly in reply since Seungcheol doesn’t let up the assault on your abused chest. You continue to gasp and moan in the otherwise quiet office. Your stepdad is being so rough on you, and you love it. Want him to pin you down right here and now. Make you cum all over yourself. Make you take his thick cock over and over until everyone in the building knows he’s fucking you.

Seungcheol groans against your tit as your orgasm abruptly hits you. He can feel you soaking his pants, and he helps you ride out your high by grinding you harder on his clothes cock. Without giving you time to recover, he hoist you up on his large desk, shoving his laptop out of the way. His dark eyes locked onto your white panties, nearly transparent from how wet they are.

“Daddy,” you hiss, squirming on his desk as he reaches under your skirt to tug your panties off. 

Clear strings of slick web between the fabric and your glistening pussy lips making him groan in his throat. 

“Fuck, princess. You always look good enough to eat,” he growls as he pockets your panties and pushes your skirt up.

You moan loudly when he holds your legs open and leans down to kiss your slit. His hands smooth over your thighs and press you open even wider.

“Want daddy to lick your pretty cunt?” He asks, teasingly blowing air on your pussy. 

“You promised, Cheolie,” you whine.

Seungcheol hums in acknowledgment as he licks up your slick coating your thighs. “Try not to be too loud, baby.”

With a smirk, he flattens his tongue and laps at your cunt, parting your folds and pressing the tip into your hole. A whine spills past your lips and Seungcheol groans. He hungrily licking into your pussy like he’s never tasted anything so good. Your stepdad sucks on your clit with the perfect amount of suction that has your toes curling and eyes rolling back. His hands come up and pull your pussy open, letting him lick and kiss and suck your swollen bundle of nerves until you’re humping his face.

“Fuck, daddy. You’re so dirty for eating your stepdaughter’s pussy on your desk. What would your workers say if they knew how much of a perv you are?”

Seungcheol moans, fucking his tongue deeper into your dripping hole. “They would understand if they knew how sweet my stepdaughter’s cunt tastes.”

You cry out when he starts sucking on your clit, eager to get you to cum again. His tongue flicks and laps at your puffy bud, loving how your juices flow right into his mouth. All it takes is an affectionate nip on your clit for you to cum all over his face. Seungcheol groans as you cry out his name, cock throbbing and twitching in his pants as you ride out your high on his tongue.

“Fuck, baby. You did so good for me.”

You mewl as your pussy clenches. The sound of his belt unbuckling sends a fresh wave of arousal over you. Lust builds within you as he pulls away from your pussy, lips and chins shiny with your release. He stands with his cock sticking out of his pants, leaking and pulsing with the need to be inside you.

Seungcheol slaps his aching cock down onto your cunt repeatedly. The lewd plap sound fills his office, making you buck into the heat of his dick. With a guttural groan he ruts his cock against your clit until you’re wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

“Daddy,”  you drag out the word through a needy whine as he teases you.

Your stepdad smirks as he swipes his fat tip up and down your folds. His cock notches against your cunt and he thrusts forward, but it slips upward, parting your slit to bump your pudgy clit. You whimper when you feel his balls press against your ass. With a mean laugh, he grabs the base of his cock and presses it against your hole again. He uses his thumb to press on the head of his dick, guiding himself slowly into your pussy, dipping it inside your hole completely.

You let out a sigh of pleasure as Seungcheol groans at the feeling of him fucking his cock deeper into you. Your pussy spasms around his girthy leg th once he’s buried inside you to the hilt.

“So fucking tight,” he growls, pulling his dick out halfway to thrust back inside. “So much better than your mom.”

Your pussy ripples and clenches while you cry out, his words burning hot in your ears. He doesn’t let you take any time to adjust to his size and starts a slow, hard pace, cock bullying in and out of your pussy and rattling his desk. Your stepdad pushes you flat against the desk and cages your body, dick grinding deep in your pussy and making you whine. The new angle has Seungcheol’s cock rubbing against your g-spot. Your eyes roll back as Seungcheol fucks your pussy with quick, rough thrusts.

“Dirty little slut. What would people say if they knew I was breeding my stepdaughter on my desk?”

You clench down tightly on his cock and he hisses, eyes staring down at you as he grins. 

“Filthy girl. You like that? Maybe we should let them watch so they can see how much you like your stepdad creaming your hot pussy,” he uses his other hand to slip between you and rub your clit. “The they’d know that you’re addicted to my cum.”

His fingers glide across your swollen bud in a way that has you crying out for him. That paired with the way his cock grinds against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt has your orgasm rolling over your body. He laughs delightedly and pumps his cock in and out of your squelching hole. 

“My little brat always cums so hard,” he grunts softly.

“Fuck. Gonna breed your slutty little pussy. Gonna knock you up.”

Your pussy flutters and milks his cock as he buries himself balls deep and shoots his load inside you. He drops his head into your neck as he slowly ruts inside your cunt, hot sticky cum flooding your walls until it's dripping out of your stuffed hole. The thought of you getting caught being creampied by your stepdad is making you horny all over again. 

The flex of his cock pulls your thoughts back to him, and you realize Seungcheol slowly thrusting in and out of your pussy, cum dripping all over his desk as he fucks his seed deeper into you.

“Fuck, baby. This sloppy pussy is making daddy hard again. You don’t care if I breed you some more, right, princess?”

You go to kiss him and mewl into his mouth. “Fuck me again, daddy. Don’t stop until I’m carrying your baby.”

Seungcheol groans and pulls out of you slowly, smirking when cum oozes from your cunt. He licks his lips and sits back on his chair. He effortlessly picks you up and sits you back on his dick.

“God, baby. Still so fucking tight,” Seungcheol groans as he smacks your ass.

Your stepdad doesn’t give you anytime to adjust and fucks up into you, grabbing your hips to pull you down at the same time. You scream from the feeling in your spasming cunt. Without waiting for your pussy to adjust, he pulls out halfway to bully his fat cock back into your aching hole.

“Fuck me, daddy,” you cry out. “Make me cream on your fat cock again.”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol pulls you down until his cock is buried deep in your pussy. “I’ll have to give my little brat what she wants, hm?”

With that, he pulls out until just the tip is teasing your wet hole then shoves his cock back deep inside your pussy. You’re moaning loudly and clinging onto his shoulders. A pleasurable heat is slowly building in your abdomen. You whine as your hips roll down onto the thick cock stretching you out. It takes you a while to realize Seungcheol stopped thrusting and now you’re the one fucking his cock.

“Good girl,” Seungcheol smacks your ass again and you moan. He smirks and starts guiding your hips to fuck harder. “Such a needy slut. Just for me.”

“Only for you, daddy,” you agree through a moan.

Your brain is completely fuzzy from how deep he is inside your cunt. Seungcheol laughs in absolute delight, loving how you’re completely his. His thumb brushes against your clit in slow circles, eager to see you make a mess on his dick all over again.

“Cream on my cock, princess. I want you squeezing me when I breed this little pussy.”

You moan loudly, hips gyrating down on his cock in excitement. “Fuck. Please, daddy!”

“That’s it, baby,” he groans low in his chest. “Keep working daddy’s dick. Fuck. I’m gonna creampie your sweet little cunt.”

Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. With his hard cock fucking into you and his thumb rubbing dizzying circles on your clit, you’re close to reaching your climax. “Gonna cum, daddy. Gonna make a mess all over your big cock.”

Seungcheol hums in approval and pulls his thumb away from your clit before he spits on your pussy. The glob of drool slowly drips down your clit. He brings his thumb back to rub the slippery mess over and over and over into your sensitive bud. Your back arches, eyes rolling back, as you clamp down on his pistoning dick. Slick coats his cock as you cum, pussy walls squeezing him like a vice.

“Fuck yes,” he hisses, thumb still pressing into your clit. “Cream my cock so I can fill up your pretty pussy.”

Your thighs jump and twitch from overstimulation as he keeps teasing your clit and grinding his cock deep in your cunt.

“Take all of daddy’s cum, baby. It’s all for you,” he groans out, snapping his hips up into your squelching hole and pumping you full of hot cum.

You moan brokenly, pussy fluttering around his throbbing cock. At this moment, you know you won’t be able to get over the feeling of getting creampied by your stepdad at his work. You can tell Seungcheol feels the same way. He fucks his cum into you until neither of you can handle the overstimulation. 

Seungcheol leans back into his chair with a pleased sigh. “God. I should’ve had you come by sooner.”

Your thoughts are still hazy, so you only hum in response.

“Did I fuck you dumb, baby?” Seungcheol smirks, pinching your nipples until you’re squealing.

You go to get off of him, but he keeps you in place. “Stay.” He says tenderly. “I’m almost done with my work, then we can go home.”

You slump against his chest and nuzzle your face into his neck. “Okay.”

Did you see anything?

You roll your eyes as you shift on Seungcheol’s cock. He’s typing away on his computer, completely focused on his work.

No. He was just working.

“Are you okay, princess?” Seungcheol wonders suddenly, dropping his head to press a kiss into your hair.

“Yeah. Just updating your wife about how good you’re being,” you say with a laugh. 

Seungcheol hums and contemplates his next course of action. While he wants to get rid of your mom soon, he still hasn’t talked it over with you. He still doesn’t know how you’re going to feel about what he has planned.

“Cheolie,” you call, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I know you’re going to leave my mom, but before you do, let’s have some more fun first.”

You’re looking at him with a naughty grin, and it makes his cock throb inside you. Seungcheol smirks and kisses you deeply. You two really are meant to be together, and he’ll make sure everyone knows that sooner than later.

[strangerexee]

ʟᴀᴛᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴇᴀʜ | ʙᴏ ᴄʜᴏᴡ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘᴛ.3 ᴏꜰ ꜱɪʀ, ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜰɪɴᴇ)

Set in 1932

Reader x Bo Chow

(Smut | Explicit sexual content | soft but rough Bo | possessive behavior | missionary position | chain kink (necklace watching) | moaning | smoking | slightly obsessive energy | post-sex vulnerability | reader being down bad | praise | 18+ only | domestic affection | morning kisses | reader so down bad for arms/hands )

ᴡᴄ: 2.9ᴋ

A/N: spaced it out this time…sorry

Time Skip: Some Months Later

The store had changed.

Not in the way it looked, really — the wooden beams still groaned in the morning, the floors still creaked when the sun shifted, and the same old glass jars of penny candy still sparkled near the front register.

But you had changed.

And Bo had changed with you.

You’d been working there full-time for a few months now. Steady pay, cash in hand every Friday, and your name on the list of employees — right under his.

He let you do nearly everything now. Trusted you with the books. With the money box. With the spare key.

And with him — more than anything else.

Bo still looked like sin itself every time he rolled up his sleeves — forearms thick and dusted with hair, veins strong under that golden-tan skin — and he still touched you in ways that made your knees weak and your cheeks hot.

But now, he touched you like you belonged to him.

A hand on your back while you rang someone up.

A brush of his fingers under your chin when no one was looking.

And that little look he gave you, every time you passed too close —

like he was two seconds from hauling you into the storeroom again.

Everything was good.

Until she came in.

Two weeks after your birthday —

You were nineteen now —

Her name was Lisa.

She came through the front door one quiet Monday afternoon — silent as a shadow — with dark eyes and a book pressed to her chest.

She was younger than you — maybe sixteen? Seventeen? — and she looked up at Bo like she already knew him.

Which, as it turned out, she did.

“This is Lisa,” Bo said, like it was casual. “My daughter.”

You blinked.

You hadn’t even known he had a daughter.

Lisa didn’t say much — barely looked at you, actually — just nodded in that stiff way teenagers do and wandered off to stock shelves.

Bo hadn’t told you everything — but you didn’t press him.

You knew what you were.

You knew what you weren’t, too.

That night, though — when the store closed and Lisa had gone back to wherever she stayed — Bo kissed you like he was scared you’d walk away.

And you didn’t.

The ex-wife came two days later.

Grace.

She worked across the street — same store but for the whites — and when she crossed that dirt road and stepped into Bo Chow & Co., the sunlight caught her hair like a damn halo.

She was tall. Not that much taller than you, but enough.

Beautiful. Put-together. Nails done. Cheeks pinched with rouge.

And her mouth curled up when she looked at you, like she already knew she could ruin you.

“You’re cute,” Grace said, in a voice too smooth for the middle of the day. “Did Bo pick you out himself?”

You laughed it off.

Bo didn’t.

He came out from the back, wiping his hands on a rag, eyes narrowing.

“Grace,” he said flatly. “Don’t start.”

Grace just smiled, walked over to you, and brushed a speck of lint off your apron.

“Just saying hi, Bo,” she said sweetly, eyes flicking down your body.

“Your new hire’s a little snack, is all.”

Bo didn’t say anything. Just stood there — jaw tight, arms crossed — watching as Grace winked at you and then strolled out of the store like she owned the whole damn town.

It kept happening.

Every couple of days, Grace would stop by —

Always with something to say.

Always lingering by your side too long.

Always close enough for Bo to hear.

Sometimes, she’d whisper things when she knew he couldn’t see —

“You really like it here, huh?”

“Bo treatin’ you sweet?”

“You know I had him first, right?”

It should’ve made you mad.

But the way Bo looked at you after?

The way he grabbed your hips at the register and pulled you into the backroom…

The way he told you, smirking, “She don’t know how good I be fuckin’ you…”

The way his hands were all over you when he kissed you…

It made something in you burn.

Lisa never said much.

She came in, she worked, she read.

She didn’t talk about her mom.

She didn’t ask about you and Bo.

She didn’t flinch when Grace flirted or when Bo ignored her completely.

But sometimes, when she thought no one was looking, she’d glance at the two of you —

Bo with his hand on your back, you laughing into his chest —

and you swore you saw something soft in her eyes.

Just for a second.

And you?

You were still working.

Still flirting.

Still keeping Bo’s bed warm and his books straight and his hands full.

But there was a new tension in the air now.

Not bad —

Just heavy

You wiped your hands on your apron and leaned against the counter, watching Bo scribble something in the inventory log with that same pencil he always used.

Lisa left a few hours ago.

You should’ve gone ten minutes ago.

But you hadn’t told him yet.

Bo didn’t look up when he said it:

“You stayin’ tonight?”

You shifted, biting your lip.

He finally did glance up — those honey-dark eyes still soft from a long day of stealing touches and grazing your waist every time he passed you in the store.

“Can’t,” you murmured. “I gotta go home. My neighbor’s letting me borrow her washer before sundown. It’s the only time she ain’t using it.”

Bo didn’t say anything for a beat — just tapped the pencil twice on the page and nodded, jaw flexing like he didn’t want to be annoyed but was anyway.

Then he got up — walked over — real slow, like always.

His arms slipped around your waist.

And then his lips — warm, smelling faintly like tobacco and soap — pressed against the side of your neck.

“You comin’ back after?” he asked, voice rough from smoke and restraint.

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut.

“Late,” you whispered, “but yeah.”

His breath ghosted down the back of your neck.

And he didn’t say anything else.

Just let you go.

It was damn near midnight by the time you let yourself into his house.

Bo was already in bed, propped up on one elbow — shirtless, chain glinting against his chest — and a cigarette between his fingers. Smoke curled around him in thin silver trails, glowing orange when he brought it back to his lips.

The whole room smelled like him.

Like firewood.

Like skin.

Like home.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come back,” he said, smoke trailing from his mouth.

You didn’t answer.

You just walked right over — boots off, dress loose — and climbed straight into his lap like you belonged there.

And you did.

Bo handed you the cigarette — eyes never leaving yours — and you took a slow drag, blowing the smoke out past his ear as you leaned in.

“Missed me?” you whispered.

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

Bo’s hand slid up the back of your thighs, grabbed your ass — hard — and then flipped you under him like you weighed nothing, plucking the cigarette from your fingers and putting it in the ashtray on the nightstand before coming back to you.

And then he kissed you.

Not quick.

Not polite.

It was hot and wet and slow, his hands everywhere — sliding your dress up, pulling your panties down, spreading you open under him like he couldn’t wait another second.

He only groaned.

And then he was inside you — deep, slow, hard — and all you could do was moan.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, tight.

Bo braced one arm beside your head and grabbed your jaw with the other — forcing you to look at him while he fucked you like it was the last thing he’d ever do.

The chain around his neck swung gently above you — catching in the light every time he thrust deeper — hypnotizing.

“You feel that?” he grunted, voice ragged against your cheek. “That’s mine, baby. This body. This fuckin’ pussy. Mine.”

You nodded. Because of course you did.

You couldn’t talk — only moan.

Again and again — choked and high and needy — until it was all that filled the room.

“Bo—”

“Bo, oh god—”

“Don’t stop—”

Your nails raked down his back.

He hissed.

And then he smiled.

“Ain’t stoppin’,” he said darkly. “Not ‘til I’m done.”

And he wasn’t.

He kept going — slow, full strokes that had you shaking, eyes rolling — until the only thing you could think, hear, or feel was him.

He kissed you when you came.

Hard. Deep.

Like he wanted to swallow the sound of it.

You moaned into his mouth.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Until you were crying out his name like a prayer.

He collapsed on top of you after — sweat-soaked, panting — and nuzzled his face into your neck— had you chuckling lazily, still holding you like he couldn’t stand to let go.

You laid there for a long moment — skin stuck together, chests rising and falling in rhythm — until your fingers wandered up to his chain.

You toyed with it.

He watched.

And then you whispered, low:

“Bo…what are we?”

The silence hit heavy.

Thick.

But not cold.

Bo pulled back just enough to look down at you — his eyes all sleepy heat and dark promise.

“You askin’ if you’re mine?” he murmured.

You swallowed.

“Yeah.”

His mouth curled.

“You been mine,” he said simply. “Been mine since you walked into that store and didn’t look away when I stared.”

He leaned down.

Kissed your mouth, soft and possessive.

“But if you need me to say it out loud, I will.”

“You’re my girl, sugar.”

“Ain’t nobody else touchin’ you.”

Your breath caught.

Bo smiled against your mouth.

“Now go to sleep,” he whispered. “Gotta be up early for work.”

It was early.

The kind of early where the light coming through the windows was still a soft gold — not full sun yet, just the glow before it. The town outside hadn’t quite woken up, but Bo’s house was already warm, filled with the smell of coffee and fresh bread that someone must’ve left cooling next door.

You stretched slow, like a cat, body still sore in all the right places.

Bo wasn’t in bed anymore.

But he wasn’t far.

You found him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter in nothing but his trousers — suspenders hanging loose at his sides, his chest bare and golden in the soft light. His hair was a little messy, like he hadn’t done it yet. There was a mug in his hand, and a newspaper tucked under his arm, though he wasn’t reading it. Just watching the window.

When he heard your bare feet on the floor, he turned.

“Mornin’, sugar.”

His voice was low. Raspy. Still waking up.

You padded across the floor and stepped into his space, and he didn’t hesitate — set the mug down and wrapped both arms around you, pulling you in against his chest like you were the thing he needed most in the world.

“You sleep okay?” he murmured into your hair.

You nodded, pressing your cheek to his collarbone.

“Sore,” you whispered. “Good sore.”

Bo huffed a warm laugh. You could feel the smile on his lips when he kissed your temple.

“Told you I wasn’t done with you. Still not.”

You tilted your head back just enough to look at him.

The chain around his neck was still there — glinting softly — and your fingers reached up to toy with it.

“You always up this early?”

“Only on days that end in Y,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over your back. “Got a lotta work to do today. Truck’s comin’ with the new sacks of rice and coffee. Gotta clear space in the storeroom.”

“I can help,” you offered.

He gave you a long look.

“You sure you don’t need a few more hours in bed?” He asked. “You were walkin’ like a baby deer just now.”

You flushed and lightly smacked his chest, and he caught your wrist, grinning — pulled your hand up to his mouth and kissed your knuckles one by one.

“I’m serious,” he said more softly. “You help me too much. Spoilin’ me.”

“That’s the point, I work for you.”

“Eh.”

He smiled again — wider this time — and leaned down to kiss you properly. Slow. Lazy. Sweet.

His fingers slipped under the hem of the old shirt you’d thrown on — one of his, of course — and rested on the curve of your waist like he just needed the touch.

“You make me feel like a damn husband again,” he said, voice rough.

“Like I got a real home.”

You blinked up at him.

That was…

A big thing to say…

Bo must’ve felt you stiffen a little, because he gently cupped your cheek and pulled your face back to his, brushing your nose with his.

“Don’t panic,” he murmured. “Ain’t askin’ for a ring. Just like havin’ you here. That’s all.”

You didn’t panic.

Not really.

You just…leaned into it.

Let him kiss you again.

Let him pour you some coffee with that crooked grin of his.

Let him stand behind you while you sipped.

The coffee was hot in your hand, but his body was hotter.

You leaned your back against the counter, holding the chipped ceramic mug with both hands like it was anchoring you, while Bo turned to the old gas stove and twisted the knob with a quiet hiss. Flame gone. Just like that.

Then he reached up to open the window slightly — bare chest catching the pale early morning light, muscles shifting beneath smooth skin and the slope of his shoulders stretching under his warm tan skin like God took his time.

You watched the whole thing like a film reel slowed down just for you.

The way his forearm flexed, veins visible but not harsh — his fingers long, thick at the base, a little rough, strong like they knew what to do with every part of you. His hands looked like they were made to build and fix and lift you with one arm.

And God help you, you’d let him.

He turned, caught you staring. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t gloat.

Just gave you this sleepy little smile that said I know what you’re looking at.

And then he crossed the room with that walk — you knew the one — like every part of him was just slightly too powerful to be casual but too smooth to show it off.

And then he was in front of you.

Warm. Big. Bare.

Smelling like skin and fire and smoke.

“You like lookin’ at me?” he asked, voice low, scratchy — soft with affection, not teasing.

“Mmm-hmm,” you hummed into your coffee, not looking away. “I like the show. Think it’s why I spend the night.”

“Not my charm?”

“No, sir.”

Bo huffed — and then leaned down, kissed your forehead real quick, then your cheek, then lower — mouth brushing the hinge of your jaw.

Your fingers found the waist of his trousers. Just rested there. Nothing more.

He didn’t stop kissing.

Didn’t rush it either.

Just pressed his lips against your skin, trailing them down the side of your neck like he needed to taste you before the world turned the lights on outside. It wasn’t sex. Wasn’t leading there either. Just a mouth. And a moment.

And his hands — god, his hands — one on your hip, the other sliding up your back slowly. His thumb caught the hem of the big shirt you wore, and pushed it up just enough to touch the skin of your lower back.

It was soft. Subtle.

But it burned like it mattered.

“You smell good,” he mumbled against your skin. “That my soap again?”

“Maybe,” you murmured. “Maybe I like smellin’ like you.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you.

“You dangerous,” he whispered.“Don’t even got to touch me to drive me crazy.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Your free hand trailed up his chest — slow — fingertips dancing along his collarbone, the hollow of his throat, until they found the chain he never took off. You loved that thing. Loved the way it caught the light, the way it swung when he was above you.

You kissed him there.

Right on the center of his chest.

Then again.

A little lower.

Right over his heart.

Bo stilled — body tensing for a breath — then sighed and slid both arms around you, holding you tight against him like he needed it more than his morning smoke.

“You soft this morning,” you whispered into his skin.

“I always been soft for you.”

You looked up.

That was not a line. He meant it.

You blinked, touched his jaw with your fingertips.

“You tryna wife me up already, Mr. Chow?”

He arched a brow.

“Ain’t gotta try.”

The air between you felt golden.

Like honey melting into warm bread.

Bo reached past you to take your mug and finished the rest of your coffee — like he always did — then set it down and kissed your temple again. His hands stayed at your waist for a long moment, thumbs stroking soft circles, like maybe he’d forgotten there was a store to open at all.

“We got fifteen minutes ‘til Lisa shows up,” he said eventually.

“That’s enough time,” you said.

“For what?”

You smiled.

“Nothin’. Just wanna look at you more.”

And so you did.

A/N: raw, next CHAPTER…get it? Because the…I’ll shut up now.

[sqgeism]

How would our favorite amphoreus men take care of reader after they got caught in the rain and got sick? maybe they have a fever, chills, blocked nose. i need some fluff in life

hope ur having a good day and love your works :)))0

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 ooh, be my baby | various hsr men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; i'll look after you . working on a rainy day had expected consequences. lucky you, your boyfriend loves you too much to scold you for the time being. well.. depends on who you choose.. ! (anaxa, mydei, phainon, dan heng, boothill, jing yuan)

love mail — hii anonnie tysm! i'm doing great!! thank u thats so sweet (´ﾟЗﾟ｀)♡ i brought back some ogs :3 ! and boothill cause i like him so don't jump me, sorry geppie i swear i love you ！Σ(￣□￣;) these r semishort n stuff cause these r a lot but i hope it does well :D

anaxa makes a cure for you in hours.

he hides it as just 'making advances in his medical knowledge' but he was genuinely worried. he had a busy week at the academy, and he didn't want to leave you alone with no way to be cared for. he wants to be there, but he couldn't call off of work a week before the students exams week, needing to post reviewers and host review classes.

so the weekend you got sick, he made a comfortable bed for you in his lab as he worked on something to free you of your sickness, making sure to also check on you the whole time.

he eventually made a concoction that helped your fever go away, body aches disappear, and clears your nose, however it didn't fix the headache. you don't mind, at least you can move your body without wanting to throw yourself off the planet.

anaxa gives you a minor scolding. something about taking better care of yourself and making him fuss over you, but he kisses your cheek and sighs. "i love you, and i'd figure out the cure to any disease that attacks you, but please don't do this again."

mydei lets you rest on top of him for the first day you got sick. tissues, snacks, thermometer, change of clothes.. all of that are set up on your nightstand. the only times he got up was to make you warm meals, and to replace the icepack that pressed up against your forehead.

honestly, he loves this. he knows the reason why you're warm is because you're literally burning up, but he likes it. you're like a little heating pad and you're extra clingy, weak arms squeezing his chiseled chest makes him melt.

he smothers you in kisses and affection till you feel better (oh, and medicine).

if you chose to be clingy to mydei, phainon's choosing to be clingy to you! but you don't want him to be sick :( he's being a big baby when you try to pull away, but he doesn't care. you're too sickly to fight back and honestly his strong, firm arms around you sound real nice rn. and so you let him, to your dismay.

he's a bit of a jerk about it though, cold hands slipping under your shirt and causing you to shiver, hearing his giggles as he apologizes and squeezes you. phainon's got so much love for teasing you, but he knows you need care to be better.

you fall asleep wrapped in blankets and tangled up with phainon.

boothill's probably the best of them all. he doesn't get sick, and he's like a personal heater or cooler. if you're too warm or too cold, he can adjust his body temperature to your liking. "yer clingin' onto me like i'd ever want to go anywhere, darlin'." he teases, running his fingers through your hair as you press yourself against his cold metal, hating how hot your body feels.

he plays some music for you to relax to, and he's telling you tales of his adventures to get you to sleep. who knew a soft, southern accent could work so well as a lullaby?

his arms are locked around you. he's hiding his worry well, but when you fall asleep he's whispering about how you need to take better care of yourself. "though, mm.. yer real cute like this, all snuggly and sniffly. could baby 'ya all week."

dan heng is definitely more on the scolding side, the moment he wakes up to you squirming and sniffling, he's got an unamused look on his face. the night prior, you walked through the astral express doors absolutely soaked from the rain. dan heng helped you change, shower, dry your hair and sleep. but you woke up sick regardless.. like he said you would, like you said you wouldn't.

"this is why you should let me come with you to missions." he grumbles, stirring the bowl of warm stew he made for you as you lay in bed. "goodness, it was one mission, and you come home to me like this. i hate how much i love you." dan heng scoffed, blowing the spoon of warm food and holding it against your lips. "i can't fight this urge to care for you. you're just so.. ugh."

he falls asleep before you, funny enough. you admire the face of your loving boyfriend before drifting off to your own slumber.

you should get sick more often.

you can't even be mad at yourself, jing yuan has allowed you to cuddle up to his sweet, insanely fluffy lion. you can't tell if it's the clogged nose or all the fur you're inhaling, but you love it. and you've got a 'weighted' blanket too. aka your boyfriend.

jing yuan had already fed you your medicine, changed clothes, and fed you well. so there was nothing to do but wait for the next few hours till you'd have to drink medicine again, so now you two are just cuddled up to the embodiment of a cloud.

"you're liking this far too much." your beloved boyfriend remarks, rubbing his head against your tummy as you chuckle, although very weakly. "maybe, but i really do appreciate being taken care of."

the deepest, velvety laugh escapes his lips as he looks up at you, that same smirk he's always worn on his face. "nothing less than for you. now rest, my love. i'll have dinner served for you soon."

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[cathnospam]

(When Bakugo speaks and it’s italics it means he’s speaking in English and when you speak in italics it means you’re speaking Japanese.)

Everybody keeps wanting more of Bakugo and his Foreign GF with their language barrier so here:

When Bakugo first met you all those years ago it didn’t click immediately you couldn’t speak Japanese, all you did was understand a few phrases.

You both were doing Hero work in America and you never really spoke, just giving everybody smiles, waves, and nods, and so he thought you were mute for a moment.

“Do you speak or something? Why don’t you talk?”

When you gave him a confused look he kept yelling until you covered his mouth and typed: “I barely speak Japanese. Sorry.”

Being so naive if you knew him you wouldn’t have dared put your hand to his mouth, but surprisingly enough he didn’t mind it, he did grab your wrist after though. Which is why he took your phone and stored his number in there stating if you want to speak to him (Because of course you would he’s Bakugo the future #5 hero in Japan) then text him.

Weird. Very weird guy.

Eventually he started to approach you more, forgetting you can’t speak his language so he either points or texts you.

He was only in the States for a few more days, but he managed to make some progress getting to know you even with the difficulties behind it.

He did however managed to learn a couple new words for you.

“Hungry.”

“What?”

He smacks his face and points across the street to a restaurant, “Food.”

“Oh!” You giggle at his accent, “Yes we can go to the restaurant.”

“Rest…taurant…tcht…..stupid.”

Bakugo became a decent learner, English was hard as hell to work on so most of it was broken, but when he got back to Japan you both had study lessons together through FaceTime and the few times a year when you visit.

He taught you Japanese and you taught him English.

Years later when you finally came to visit is when he decided to ask you out.

“Girlfriend….my girlfriend….or date —- I sound so fucking stupid trying to ask you out—whatever.”

“Are you …asking me out?”

The blondie was impressed by how fast you learned, seeing that you still struggled with verbs. Which he definitely clowned you for, but you didn’t have a clue about it.

He scoffs and nods reluctantly , somewhat jealous you don’t have too many complications with Japanese as much as he thought anymore.

“Date….later.”

You felt your cheeks get warm, it’s not like you didn’t expect it, considering how much touchier he’s gotten towards you since you got there and even during texting he throws in a few flirts and compliments, he wasn’t a bad guy what so ever so often course you say yes.

“How about 7pm tonight after class?”

“That’s my job to say the time!”

“Yeaaaahhh I still don’t understand what you said, but Immma assume from context you’re upset.”

He just blinks at you with a frustrated look, and his mouth in a straight line, only hearing the words, “Upset” and “What you said” being translated in his brain, when you speak english you sound like a sim.

His words by the way.

The thing about you not understanding Japanese completely is that there were so many times through out the date he would compliment you and say some of the most sweetest things that he knew you wouldn’t understand.

“You look stunning in that dress.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Your smile is gorgeous.”

“All I understood was smile. You want me to smile more?”

“No!”

He managed to get away with a lot. And so did you.

The first date you both had went more than perfect, it was cute because there was still moments where you and him managed to practice different words to each other. He spoke in broken English to show you how to eat Pho and you spoke Japanese to order your own food.

He was a bit proud to say the least.

When the date had to come to its sad close he walked you back to your hotel, you wanted to invite him back, seeing as you clearly felt a connection from him not just as a friend, but maybe more however you didn’t want him to think you were easy.

Not that he would’ve thought so anyways he was hoping you would invite him back.

Bakugo looked at you expectantly when you unlocked your door, almost as if he was waiting to hear something he probably wouldn’t even comprehend. Instead though you give him something better first when you place your lips on his, “That is what you call a kiss.”

“Kiss.” He repeats, accent still thick and raspy, his hand rubbing your waist, your body being ever pled by his natural warmth, “Kiss…me…more.”

Giggling you do so, which did indeed lead to you inviting him back to your room for learning more about these kisses he loves so damn much now.

[dannyriccsystem]

AND THEY CALLED IT… PUPPY LOVE!

FORMULA ONE DRIVER X READER

SUMMARY: Kimi is always feeling guilty for his gross thoughts, but he just wants to kiss you all the time!

WORD COUNT: 481

WARNINGS: Kimi Antonelli has “dirty” thoughts about reader (literally just making out), boyfriend who is absolutely whipped for you

FEATURING: Kimi Antonelli x Reader

NOTE: I’m so proud he’s starting P3 tomorrow! I hope he can finish P3 or higher 🥹 This wasn’t a request, but I wanted to write something for him so bad. I love my Kimsy

Kimi felt… Disgusting. He felt disgusting because while everyone else was focused on training, he was focused on making sure every moment spent with you was filled with love and happiness. He felt disgusting because when he was training, all he was thinking about was your plump lips and your pretty thighs. He felt disgusting because he was dominating the grid during the Miami Grand Prix weekend, all while he was daydreaming about finally getting his lips on yours.

The year had been good for him. Sure, it wasn’t as if he was in first, but he couldn’t expect perfection during his rookie year. He could expect this, though, and it felt really damn good. It wasn’t Round 06, Miami— A sprint weekend, and for the first time during his F1 career, Kimi would be at the front.

He finished the qualifying for the sprint with a huge boyish grin, everyone crowding around to congratulate him on such a huge win. He had done so much this year— He had broken so many records, and it was glory unlike any other.

But he didn’t care about that. He didn’t care for the pats on the back or the tight hugs. He wanted you, he wanted your lips on his while you told him what a good job he had done. Without your praise, Kimi felt like nothing. He carried a smile as he greeted every person, gracing them with enough time to where it wouldn’t seem rude when he eventually dismissed himself.

You were sitting pretty like you were waiting for him, and when you realized Kimi had finally located you, you jumped up to greet him. You were so cute, it was unbearable. You had the biggest smile on your face, wearing such a cute outfit. Just for him. Or at least he liked to think so.

“Kimi!” You cheered, wrapping your arms around his neck, immediately smothering his face in kisses. He melted under your touch, knees nearly buckling. “You did so good, I’m so proud of you.” He didn’t care about the win anymore, he just wanted you to keep going. He felt greedy for wanting all your love.

“Mmm,” He chased your lips, pulling you in for another kiss. You couldn’t help but giggle, happily returning the favor. “Grazie, amore mio,” Kimi murmured. When you tried to pull away, he chased after you again, pulling you back, his hand on the back of your head.

Your eyes were wide when you both pulled back with a very dramatic kissy sound, gasping for air. “Kimi!” You scolded teasingly, smacking his chest. “In public?”

He pouted like a scolded dog, wrapping his arms around your waist to hoist you up in his arms. “Yeah, yeah.” He kissed your neck, carrying you with confidence.

“Kimi, where are we-”

“Shhh.” He was ready to have your lips all over him. Now!

[camille-aurelie-deveraux]

Hello love. Could I please request Kimi being in love with Lewis little sister. And he is like really gentleman-y around her. Could Yn please be obvious about this whole thing? Lewis thinks the whole thing is very cute but also amusing.

Cute Italian Guy

The Italian sun was unforgiving that Friday in Monza, drenching the paddock in golden heat and restless anticipation. The 2025 season was as dramatic as it was historic: Lewis was now wearing red for Ferrari, Kimi had shockingly moved to Mercedes, and Carlos was leading Williams with sheer determination.

But the hottest topic in the paddock wasn’t team strategy or tire wear.

It was Kimi Antonelli’s undeniable, head-over-heels affection for Lewis’ younger sister, Yn.

Just turned eighteen, Yn was still getting used to the whirlwind of attention that came with being part of the F1 world. She wasn’t a driver or a celebrity, but somehow, she had become the center of Kimi’s world. And, if everyone else was being honest, theirs too. Watching the normally calm and calculated Kimi transform into a flustered gentleman around her was their favorite new pastime.

"Here, let me carry that for you," Kimi said, appearing by her side the moment she stepped out of the Ferrari hospitality unit, a large tote over her shoulder.

Yn blinked. "Oh, it’s okay, I—"

"Please," he added quickly, taking the bag before she could protest further. "It’s far too heavy for you."

Yn smiled, a soft blush rising to her cheeks. "It just has a water bottle and sunscreen."

"Even so," he said with a slight bow of his head.

Behind them, Lewis leaned against a pillar, sipping his espresso, watching with a smirk.

"You think he realizes he’s acting like a Jane Austen character or something?" Charles murmured beside him.

"Nah," Lewis chuckled. "He’s in too deep. It’s adorable."

Kimi, oblivious to the onlookers, adjusted the strap of the tote over his shoulder. "Would you like something to drink, Yn? I can grab something cold. Lemon water, maybe?"

"I’m okay for now," she said, flustered. "Thank you, though. That’s really sweet."

"Of course," Kimi said with a soft smile. "You deserve sweetness."

Yn looked like she might combust on the spot.

"Someone call race control," Lando quipped from a few meters away. "That girl’s overheating."

Carlos laughed, shaking his head. "If he pulls out a poem next, I’m gone."

---

It wasn’t just a one-time thing. It was every day.

When it rained in Zandvoort, Kimi was there holding the umbrella over Yn’s head, despite soaking himself in the process.

"You’re getting drenched," Yn said worriedly, looking up at him.

"Doesn’t matter," he said, his voice warm and calm. "You shouldn’t get cold."

He always opened doors, pulled out chairs, stood when she entered a room. He remembered what she liked: strawberries, those lavender-scented wipes she always kept in her bag, the kind of music that helped her sleep. And he never, not once, made her feel awkward about it.

Yn, on the other hand, had no idea how to handle it.

"He... offered me his hoodie the other day just because I sneezed once," she whispered to George in the Mercedes garage.

George grinned. "And did you take it?"

"Of course I did! But then I walked around smelling like cedarwood and... whatever cologne he wears. It was distracting."

"Sounds tragic."

"It is!"

Across the garage, Kimi caught her eye and smiled. Yn instantly looked down.

---

In Singapore, things hit a new high.

The heat was unbearable, and Yn had foolishly worn jeans. Kimi noticed her discomfort instantly.

"You’re not feeling well," he said, concern lacing his words.

"I’m fine," she replied, clearly not.

Without asking, he disappeared for five minutes and returned with a small fan, a cool towel, and a chilled bottle of sparkling water.

"Seriously, are you part butler or something?" Oscar teased as Kimi knelt beside Yn, helping her cool down.

"Just someone who cares," Kimi answered simply.

Yn didn’t say a word, just looked at him with wide, confused eyes.

"Why do you do all this?" she asked later, when they were alone, sitting in a quiet corner of the hospitality suite.

Kimi looked thoughtful. "Because you’re kind. And beautiful. And you make my heart race more than any car ever could."

She stared at him, stunned. "You’ve actually said that out loud before, haven’t you?"

He chuckled. "To my mirror."

"Oh my God."

---

Back in Monza, during the Sunday race, Yn sat in the Ferrari garage beside her brother. The noise was deafening, the atmosphere electric.

"He brought you coffee again," Lewis said casually.

"It’s vanilla and oat milk," Yn murmured. "How does he even remember these things?"

"Because he’s in love with you, darling," Lewis said, nudging her. "And you’re clearly into him too."

Yn looked down at the cup. "It’s just... weird. I’m not used to people being... like this. Nice."

"Kimi’s not just nice. He’s sincere."

"I don’t know what to do."

"Maybe just... smile at him. Say thank you. Let him carry your bag and open doors."

"You mean... let him keep being a walking romance novel?"

"Exactly."

---

After the race, where Kimi placed second, he found Yn in the Mercedes motorhome garden, reading under a tree.

"Hey," he said, brushing some dirt from his suit.

"Congratulations," she said, smiling.

"Thank you." He paused, then sat down beside her, close but not too close. "I wanted to ask if... maybe you'd like to go for a walk with me sometime. When the weekend's over."

Yn looked at him, her heart hammering. "Like a date?"

He nodded. "Only if you want to."

She nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes, I want to."

Kimi grinned.

From across the garden, Max leaned toward Lando. "We owe George twenty bucks."

"I said they'd kiss next week, not this one."

---

On their first walk together in Milan, Kimi brought her a single daisy. "I didn't want to be too cliché," he said.

Yn took it, grinning. "You are a living cliché, Kimi. But I like it."

He offered her his arm. "Shall we, m'lady?"

She giggled. "God, you're hopeless."

He smiled. "Only for you."

And somewhere, back in the paddock, a dozen drivers were already plotting how to tease them at the next Grand Prix.

But none of that mattered.

Because Yn was smiling, and Kimi was the reason.

And Lewis? He couldn’t be happier to watch it all unfold.

"Just... treat her right," he had told Kimi the week before.

"Always," Kimi had promised.

So far, he was keeping his word.

And then some.

🇮🇹🇬🇧🇮🇹🇬🇧🇮🇹🇬🇧🇮🇹🇬🇧🇮🇹🇬🇧🇮🇹🇬🇧🇮🇹🇬🇧🇮🇹🇬🇧🇮🇹🇬🇧

Hello, my lovely reader! I hope you enjoyed reading this little piece of mine. Anyways, my requests are always open for you, and don't hesitate to message me!

Cami🇮🇹🇬🇧

[robinpokefan]

MY GAY SONS

Free fall 🍃

[passionwillow]

Thinkin about Dr. Robby with nurse!reader who aren’t officially together but there’s *tension* and she has to go out of town for a family thing and Robby is just insufferable without her around so when she gets back everyone is overjoyed and telling her how happy they are that she’s back and she’s happy but so confused until maybe like Mel tells her that Robby is a pain without her around.

This is so cute and so something he would do.

You and Robby were the definition of work husband and work wife. Everyone was taking bets when you'd finally break and sleep with one another, but so far only Langdon and Princess were still in the running for that one.

He was constantly on the lookout for you. Eyes roaming over the floor, gaze finally relaxing when he spotted you with a patient.

Whenever someone came in to the ER he was there beside you in a second, sending closer than he probably needed to. Watching how calmly you worked, how at ease you handled a screaming patient or upset parents.

No one missed the way he brushed past you, hand resting on your lower back a heartbeat longer than normal, his eyes sweeping your face, hungry to catch another glimpse before he looked away.

He was always hanging around you when he could, leaning on the counter to be just a little closer, eyes never leaving your face as you laughed with him.

But one day, he came in and you weren't there. Langdon answered the unspoken question, eyes never leaving the computer screen. "It's Monday, remember? She's on vacation for the next few days."

Fuck. How could he forget?

The next few days were hell. Everyone could see his mood shift, the way he was snappier than necessary with Whitaker, or the way he avoided talking to almost anyone all day unless necessary. He even bit Mel's head off, though he instantly apologized after. He could never be mean to her, no one could.

It explained why, when you came back on Thursday, you were greeted with big smiles and received hugs. It confused the hell out of you. You knew your coworkers liked you, and you liked them. It was a big family in here. But why the hell was Langdon squishing you so tight, mumbling about how you were a savior?

It wasn't until you dropped your lunch off in the staff lounge Santo's explained it to you. "Robby has been an absolute nightmare, dude. I've never seen him so irritated, even with Gloria."

That made you grin. Your sweet doctor, a menace?

You kept out of the Pitt until you saw him go to his desk. You walked as quietly as you could until you were behind, gently grabbing his shoulders and whispering. "Someone missed me, huh?"

No one was surprised when he jumped and turned to you, his furrowed brows relaxing as he grinned and swept you up in a big hug.

"Thank god for that," Mel sighed, Langdon nodding as he stood beside her. "Amen."

[mickyschumacher]

Hello ! How are you ? I would request a Imagine with Isack Hadjar x Fem Reader smut if you can and if you are okay with that if it's not, it's okay

Thank you !

[THE TOUCH OF YOUR LIPS!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: isack and you have found some... advice to help you with your stress. and while it's been pretty helpful, a new realisation has decided to slap you in the face. or in which friends with benefits isn't really working out anymore.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), friends with benefits but friends beforehand, some fluff, jealousy, blowjob, slight handjob, isack kinda possessive 🙂‍↔️, poor humour, isack being cute and shit, paul possibly finding an early deathbed (my bad), a lack of thanking franco :( // sorta proof-read

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: isack hadjar x mercedes!driver!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.7k+

𝐀/𝐍: isack hadjar smut?? OFCCCCC IT'D BE ME! (one would proclaim there it isn't enough of it 😔) sincerely a girl who could maybeeee write a pt 2 xx p.s. kinda wrote this after that interview franco gave.

🏎️ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | ⚽️𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Racing by no means was easy. It required a sort of aggression unlike any other. It invoked stress down to the very atom, impacting how one drove.

So by the very famous advice of Franco Colapinto, one should take steps to alleviate such stress.

The idea actually belonged to Franco when both you and Isack had come to him with burdened shoulders after the third race.

While some found Suzuka boring to watch this year. You and Isack had been fighting to keep yourselves in the top ten. You had to admit being in a Mercedes made it slightly easier. But at this rate... it was anyone's points to win.

On your small break, you and Isack had met Franco for lunch, giving each other advice and simply just being there for each other. After complaining about the stress, the Argentine had only looked the both of you dead in the eye and said, "You both you need to get laid."

"I–What?" You spluttered while Isack's eyes turned wide at the recommendation.

Franco leaned back in his chair with a small shrug. "I did it all the time last year. Before a race... before quali... it really helps you relax. And you burn off weight for the car."

You blinked blankly, turning to Isack with a raised brow as though you were questioning whether Franco was truly sane or not. Isack only shrugged, ears tinged red.

A sigh fell from Franco's lips. Bending forward, he looked at the both of you firmly. "Look... it's not up to me how you do it. With each other. A stranger. A friend. As long as you have some chemistry, anyone will work. You just need to remove the stress from your body."

━━━━━━━━━━━

Franco's advice, although slightly crude, was admissible.

You thought about it for days after you had met. When was the last time you had even pleasured yourself let alone gotten laid? Weeks? God forbid... months?

You had committed so much of your life to your career that you had put an indefinite halt on your love life, including all intimate matters. You didn't want a single distraction until you had achieved what you desired: the World Champion title.

But now it seemed your decision had backfired and was now impacting your ability to get that damn title.

You didn't even know Isack was considering Franco's advice until he showed up to your hotel later that evening and asked you with the most flushed cheeks whether you 'join' him on Franco's proposition.

And that was that.

It was simple.

You and Isack were friends with benefits. If either of you felt too stressed or perhaps in need of someone, you would call each other.

There were rules to it, of course.

Don't abuse the relationship. Each occurrence should be mutually decided. You couldn't just snatch someone away to get what you wanted.

Keep this completely secret. Not only would the journalists have an absolute field day with this. Your publicists would probably kill you and you didn't feel like risking your seat.

If one of you wants it to end, it ends right there and then. No questions asked.

Lastly, and most importantly, you're only friends with benefits. Nothing more. This should never impact your friendship of five years.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Franco was absolutely right. Getting laid was the most relaxing choice you had ever made. People were beginning to question how you and Isack were able to be so 'level-headed' throughout races.

Isack barely felt like touching the radio button in the past month and you didn't need five minutes of down time each time you came out of the car.

It was perfect.

Isack got you in ways no one ever had. Perhaps it was because he knew you well enough already but he always knew what buttons to press. How to get you hot and bothered. How to maximise your pleasure. You had always thought his nose could serve a better purpose else where (between your legs preferably).

Not that you were any better. Just one look from you was enough to send Isack to the bathroom, begging for you to come and help him.

Today, however, was slightly different.

You were in Miami a few days earlier than media day. Some of the drivers, including you, had been invited to a club opening created by a superfan.

You hadn't thought much about it until Paul pleaded for you to go, citing that he didn't want to be alone in such a boring place. So you agreed, momentarily forgetting Isack would be there.

But you were quickly reminded as you watched Yuki introduce a girl to Isack from across the room.

"What is going on there?" You asked Paul and Jack.

Paul tilted his head, eyes moving to the direction you were looking in while Jack seemed to answer your question. "I think she's the girl being set up. Pierre said Yuki was introducing someone to Isack. I think Yuki's girlfriend knows her."

In any other circumstance, you would be flooded with happiness. But for some reason, you felt deathly sick. Like your stomach had just dropped all over the floor.

You watched Isack smile at her, giving her a brief warm hug. The girl seemed sweet, positively beaming at him.

You chewed on your lips. God, why were you feeling like this? It was like irritation was coursing through your veins. His laugh echoed in your ears and it infuriated you.

"Are you alright?" Jack asked, looking slightly concerned for you.

Paul averted his eyes to you, stopping his conversation with Esteban. "Yeah... you look kind of pale. Are you feeling well?"

You opened your mouth, immediately about to refute their concerns when it dawned on you.

You were jealous.

You were fucking jealous.

Not of Isack.

But of the girl.

Fuck.

Fuck.

You cleared your throat, giving the two boys a tight smile while you nodded. "I'm fine. Just need to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

Although unconvinced, Jack and Paul nodded in return.

You stood up from your swear, heading towards the bathroom, unaware that Isack's eyes were already on you.

Manoeuvring past the dancing bodies, your mind was beginning to overthink.

How could this happen? Why was this happening?

Where on earth had you crossed the line between friends, a little something more, and something else entirely?

The memories flooded your brain, hitting you one after another.

The moments where you laid on Isack's chest after you finished and you'd talk for hours and hours.

The sneaky kisses he pleaded for as he pulled you around the corner, risking everyone seeing the both of you. And all you did was laugh while you encouraged him.

Was it perhaps when he'd ask to meet you in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep just to take a walk?

Perhaps when he surprised you every morning with your favourite sweet treat before you walked the track?

Or the moments Isack asked you repeat his name like a mantra, asking you who made you feel this good while he hovered over you, cheeks flushed with red and skin riddled with sweat?

"Shit," you sighed, head hanging low while you stared hard at the marble counter of the sink.

Goddamnit.

The one thing you weren't supposed to do.

And you had gone and done it.

You rubbed your face, exhaustion slowly taking over it. Lifting your face, you stared at yourself. What were you going to do now?

You should end it, a voice echoed in your head.

Another voice quipped back. But she can't... can you?

Your shoulders slumped. What would it matter? Soon enough he'd have a girlfriend and whatever you had would be in the past. Just like how it was supposed to be.

━━━━━━━━━━━

"Hey... are you alright?" Isack's voice disrupted your silence as you sat outside your team's hospitality unit.

You peeled your eyes from your phone and looked at him, ignoring the small waver in your heart. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" You asked with a small smile that held all the feigned cluelessness in the world.

Isack's brown eyes darted around, lips pursed in the search of finding the right words. He swallowed, "I just... you haven't been responding so I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Ah...

Right.

He had messaged you numerous times since the night at the club, including why you had left so early. And for none of them could you bring yourself to respond.

Every time you saw his name grace your phone, a flashback of that girl came into your head. No matter what... you couldn't shake the weird feeling in your chest.

The last thing you could do was tell Isack. So you did what you knew best. Run and avoid.

"Yeah... sorry. I've just had a lot on my mind, so," You shrugged, body at slight ease as you technically weren't lying.

Isack chuckled softly, a dangerous rhythm for your heart. "I thought that's what we were meeting for."

There it was. The sore reminder. That this was all it was. Because why on earth would it be anything more?

"I know, I know..." You gave him a tight smile. "I just didn't think the weekend would turn out like this."

The weekend in question was two practices where you had consistently cleared everyone by a second. God knows how. The car barely had any pace to begin with. But something in Miami was clicking with you. And all of a sudden, your name was being mentioned for pole.

He nodded in agreement. "Neither. But hey, I'm proud of you. You're doing a great job," he smiled widely, rubbing your shoulder affectionately.

You sucked in a sharp breath, pressing down the small clench of your chest. "Thanks," you murmured.

Fucking hell...

You thought ignoring him would help you. But it had only made things worse.

"Do you want to meet after practice? Yuki recommended a really good restaurant and we should trust his taste considering how much of a foodie he is." Isack asked, hopeful eyes smiling down at you.

You gulped nervously, staring at him momentarily before sighing. Your shoulders slumped. "Listen... Isack, I think we should end... this." you winced at the awkwardness coating your voice.

Isack blinked. The rules you had made were long gone in his brain. "I... what? What do you mean? W-Why? Did something happen? Did I do something?"

You sighed once more. "It's not you. I just think it's a bit... distracting. I told myself I was going to focus on F1 and I don't know– I feel like I'm straying away from it."

You shifted almost uncomfortably under his gaze. He looked behind you before averting his attention back to you. "Is this about Paul?"

You were pretty sure you had officially lost it. "Paul? What about him?" You asked as the picture of your old Estonian friend came into mind.

Isack pursed his lips. "I... he came to me at the end of the night in club. Asking me where you went. Very concerned. Saying you hadn't been feeling well and I was finding out from him out of all people. Am I intruding on something?"

"I–what? No. Why on ear–" You blinked, finally registering that odd tone Isack sported. "I... Isack... why does it matter to you that he cares?"

Isack's eyes slightly widened. "What?" He huffed, feigning a careless shrug. He swallowed hard, slowly responding. "No... it doesn't..."

You nodded slowly. "Okay. So that's it then."

A hesitant nod returned from Isack. "That's it."

━━━━━━━━━━━

When you had initially decided that nothing could impact the friendship between you and Isack, you didn't even think that your friends with benefits situation would be an exception. Not even for a second.

But here you were. Not even on talking terms. And everyone noticed. You could barely even look at each other.

Yet when Paul would weasel his way from the Alpine garage to you, Isack couldn't withhold the firm expression on his face.

The bright-eyed blonde was constantly flashing his pearly whites, including you in small TikToks he made for the team, cheering you on before every practice, congratulating you with a tight hug after you did indeed get pole for Miami...

He used to do that. Him. Isack.

After one heck of a race involving some unpredicted rain, you had won your maiden Grand Prix. And instead of hugging and kissing the living daylights out of you like Isack had dreamed about, he watched the replay on the screen during his interviews where the camera panned towards Paul and you, filling the room with small 'awes'.

Fucking hell. For someone who had all the emotional capacity, Isack had never felt such rage and turmoil.

Which was exactly why he was at your hotel door in the middle of the night because only you would prefer a night in when you should be celebrating.

"Isack," you greeted, eyes slightly widened as you opened the door.

What on earth was he doing here?

You pressed your lips at the silence, feeling his stare bore into you in such a way that made your stomach churn and your knees quiver. "I... um, what are you doing here? At... Christ, at two in the morning?"

Isack blinked. "I couldn't sleep."

You opened your mouth, about to respond in understanding when he continued. "I couldn't sleep knowing that I should've been the one hugging you today when you won. That I should've congratulated you by kissing you in front of everybody like I imagined. I couldn't sleep... knowing that I'm going to lose you because I couldn't build up the courage for five years to say... I like you. So much that it's driving me crazy."

Your eyes had fully blown wide and any ounce of exhaustion had been depleted instantaneously. You watched Isack's chest heave after the whirl of words that had fallen from his mouth.

"I don't think... I'm not sure if you're in the right state of mind right now..." you worded slowly as though your heart wasn't slamming into your chest, screaming at you to do anything but deny what was right in front of you.

Isack huffed, slightly amused by your poor attempt to distance yourself. He knew you far too well. He folded his arms, making it difficult for your eyes to look away. "Why? So you can pretend you don't like me too? That you didn't get jealous at the club?"

Your mouth fell open. "I... how did you...?"

Isack gave you a pointed look. "That girl asked me why you were looking at her so intensely," he retorted dryly.

Your cheeks flushed. Fuck this was getting even worse than you had imagined. Your hand clenched around your doorframe, head resting in embarrassment. "Okay... you need to leave."

Isack furrowed his brow. "What? Why?"

"So I can wallow in self-pity and potentially burn a hole through this carpet with my skin," you stated, lips pressed together.

Isack grinned, taking a step forward. "I can think about fifty other ways I can make you burn."

Before you could clock it, Isack's lips were on yours and your hands were around his neck, pushing him further into you.

A moan slipped from your lips while you could hear the thud of your door shutting. You could feel his hands immediately wrap around your waist, warming your skin.

Isack's lips pressed deeper, tongue darting out to nudge your mouth open, giving him more access to consume you entirely. Your body was positively churning, tingling and yet littering every inch of you with goosebump as he sent shivers down your skin.

The small half-mixed whine and grunt from his mouth made your thighs clench tightly. It was like it was reverberating through your core.

Isack moaned against your lips, hand roaming up your back, feeling the soft tresses of your hair mix with his fingers. Fuck... he had missed this. Two days... that all he had without you. And it had made him lose himself.

His own body shuddered at the scrape of your nails brushing past his bare skin, feeling his taut torso as though you had carved it out from memory. He peeled his lips away, breath hitching while you rubbed the skin above just below his waistband.

You were undoing him.

And he loved it.

"How the hell did you think you were going to end this, huh?" Isack queried, nipping away at the base of your neck, sucking your soft skin hard enough to mark what was his.

You moaned, head lolling back while he continued to speak, his teeth grazing your skin. "This is forever, chérie," he murmured, looking back at you. His hand held your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye.

You swallowed hard at the brown eyes staring back at you. Cheasts heaving, the silence was brief. "The moment I first kissed you on our first night... I knew that there would be no going back. That I would hate being your friend and nothing more."

Your eyes glistened, teasing you with your heart's capacity. "Isack..." you murmured, faces barely centimetres away from his.

His smile was soft. Almost a deceptive move on his behalf. "Tomorrow I'll show you how much you mean to me. Today... today you'll please me like the brat you've been. Winner or not."

One might've thought you were crazy as you felt the arousal begin to seep past your panties. You could feel your knees drop instinctively, no order being needed.

Silently, Isack peeled off your shirt, unhooking your bra with one swift motion. He cursed in French at the sight of your chest spilling so freely. Almost urgently, he unzipped his pants, shuffling out of his boxers along with it.

Your eyes were glued to his cock. So thick. Pretty veins all going down, angry and desperate for your touch.

As though you were in a daze, you held out your hand, running your nails gently over the underside.

Isack, unable to control his expressions, whimpered. He breathed slowly. "Don't start playing," he weakly warned, cock standing tall, twitching by itself in the wait for your touch.

You flickered your eyes to his, opening up your lips to let the swarm of warm saliva you had gathered dribble. In your peripheral, you could see Isack's mouth fall slightly, almost like he had gone stupid.

Your saliva fell over his cock, the warm fluid feeling fuzzy over the heat of his tip. Isack clenched his jaw upon feeling your hand rub the natural lube up and down his shaft. A sharp exhale made its way past his gritted teeth, a small tremor wavering down his body as your thumb grazed his slit so precisely.

"Putain," Isack swore, hand shooting to wrap around your chin. "Be careful," he warned more firmly this time. "If you want to enjoy what comes after... be careful."

You uncomfortably squirmed with the wetness between your legs growing bigger and bigger with every passing second. You couldn't help but tease him. He was making it so difficult. So expressive. Just the way you liked.

Before he even had the opportunity to say anything, your hot breath washed over his cock, making him twitch. Isack's head fell back in the air, feeling your hot tongue lick the tip of his dick, again paying special attention to his slit. "Merde," he moaned, entirely lost in your mouth.

Isack's tensed arms rushed to your hair, wrapping the strands tightly around the surface of his hands, veins popping on his forearms while he guided your head with the little control he could muster. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip upon the twirl of your tongue and the light graze of your own teeth against his tip. "F-Fuck," he croaked, throat straining to hold back his full moans, "you're so good, chérie."

You could only hum in response, the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue before you opened your throat a little wider to take his cock in fully. You feel Isack poorly guide his cock into the tighter tunnel, the action bombarded with a string of subdued moans from his mouth. God forbid, he got in trouble for waking up the entire hotel just because you were a goddess with your mouth.

Your thighs clenched again at the sounds falling from his lips. You could tell Isack was close by the way his hips began to move as though he was in a chase. You could only help further by sucking him even harder, bringing the warmth right to him.

Isack's eyes fell down to your throat, knees almost buckling at the sight of the same little bulge in your throat. God... how could he ever forget this? How you could even suggest ending what you had was beyond him. You were perfectly his.

Furthermore, the feel of your nails scraping his thighs, sinking into his thighs... you driving him crazy. He pushed his hips faster, taking in the lewd squelch of your throat filling the air. "That's it... you feel me, chérie?" he asked, breath uneven.

Your eyes fell to him, moans muffled with his cock in your mouth. Your pathetic attempt of a nod made him grin.

Isack let out a strangled grunt mixed with a chuckle. "Such a pretty little mouth... made just for me. Because you're all mine, aren't you, chérie? Not his... mine."

Closing his brown eyes, he cursed with a senseless yet ravenous moan, feeling the coil in his stomach began to unravel as your nose flushed with his skin.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, eyes tight as he chased his release.

You felt yourself drip between your legs as the hot white ropes spilled into your mouth, coating every crevice while you sucked every last drop from him.

Isack heaved, breathing almost silently while he removed his cock from your mouth, stomach churning as he watched you swallow what he had given you.

His eyes still glazed with need, he pulled you up from the floor, pressing his lips to your. God... he could taste himself on your tongue.

Isack breathed harshly. He rested his forehead on yours. "It's technically tomorrow... isn't it?" He queried, a small quirk at the corner of his lips baiting you.

Your laugh soothed his heart. You smiled, taking his hand and guiding it between your legs. "Technically it is."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[teaboot]

So this might be a bit of a dumb question, but I thought I’d ask you because I agree with most of your takes and because you studied fashion.

I graduate this fall, and I don’t know what I’m going to wear to the ceremony. Our school has these green robes so I wanted to wear something to go with them. A lot of the graduates wear white dresses, but I’m not sure I want to because some of them don’t feel formal enough for the occasion. I’ve struggled a lot in my college career, so I wanted to pick something celebratory. I’m just not sure where to start to find something that I like and that will suit me.

I’d also like to get something from a small business, if possible. I’ve visited a few department stores in search of formalwear and I’ve found that 1) things don’t fit me because I’m 4'10'' and 120 lb and 2) I generally don’t like the way they look. I’ve considered Etsy because my roommate who just graduated got a skirt from a seller that looked really nice, but I keep running into the problem of not knowing what I want.

If this is weird, please ignore and I’m really sorry. I just feel a bit lost. Thank you for your time!

ooooooughh that’s a toughie

I think a big factor would be how formal you’re planning to go- are we talking ball gown, black tie event, expensive restaurant, Sunday at church…?

Not knowing your build but going off your description, you’re lucky in that pretty much anything you wear is more likely to be too big than too small, and it’s much easier to cinch or belt or bring in the hem of a garment than it is to let it out. Being petite, you can rely a lot on accessories to bring your look together, and accessories can go a long way in elevating an otherwise plain look.

White dress is a cute idea, though I may aim for off-white just to avoid looking bridal unless it’s a uniform event or a school colours thing. A warm eggshell or cream looks good on most people.

If you’re going to be wearing a robe though, I wouldn’t worry too much about the dress- not unless you want fancy cuffs or collar or hem visible. In which case, a nice blouse with a belted maxi or midi skirt could be a good idea, if a little old-fashioned.

As for specific retailers, I fully encourage Etsy stores with good reviews, though I would add a note to your order if something is urgent or has specific measurements or requirements or alterations. And some styles are safer than others when it comes to sizing- being broad-shouldered myself, I always gravitate to wrap dresses or wrap tops, just ‘cause they enhance a curvy figure while still having plenty of room for error in sizing.

I know this didn’t really help with specifics, but maybe hopefully gave you some ideas…?

(one sec, gonna update this with images so you know what kind of tops/dresses I’m referring to)

UPDATE:

When I say “wrap dress”, I mean something like these- Conservative enough to be professional, but light and breezy enough for a long summer ceremony. Ideally in a light cotton or linen blend, and something you can reuse for other events over and over in the future (the second is a bit bright for me but that’s close to the hem I mean- though I personally prefer the first.) Being petite and slim, you’re double lucky in that you could probably pull off an empire waist too if you like for that floaty, ethereal look- busty people like me often just end up looking pregnant.

As for blouses, these are great and can be super crazy, depending on how far you wanna go

You’ll be depending on the collar and sleeves to do most of the legwork here, so you can have a lot of fun with them. The skirt though should be at least lower calf-length to balance the whole thing out.

Thinking like

Cute, retro, somewhat formal, and you can keep wearing the pieces instead of a big gown that ends up in the back of a closet forever. (I’ve lived a broke life, vintage styles like this are fantastic for the longevity and penny-pinching that I look for)

But with robes on, the biggest parts of your outfit will be neckline and hemline, so whatever you end up going with, focus there.

Also, shoes go in and out of style constantly, and it’s going to be a LONG fucking day, so if you want to wear heels I’d go with a closed-toe almond fit with a low heel, ideally on the thicker side, and in black, or at least some other neutral colour to avoid taking up attention. Unless you can get the exact shade of green as your school colours, in which case that would be pretty neat too, but black may be your best bet.

comme ça:

If there’s any inspo images you have on hand or particular styles you feel suit you personally, I could find something more suited to your tastes, but these are basically my go-tos.

Traditional timeless and comfy, and either long-lasting or functional enough to be worn over and over again, dressed up or down to the occasion.

Hope I could help?

And congratulations! :D

[slaaneshsleftovergender]

*cracks knuckles* 

I have not been failing to beat the furry allegations for years, just to ignore this call to action now

I'm basing my takes on…vibes, mostly. Also there's no set system. Each primarch gets personal evaluation on Culture, Cannon, my view of what Big E would consider “sick as hell”, and just…them, ya know?

-

Lion - Obvious one*, very large and sturdy, leaning heavily towards a Dungeons and Dragons Leonin design. 

Fulgrim - My knee jerk reaction is snake, Slaneesh saw n made it happen, but I was torn because honestly when I think of Fulgrim, I think about his hair. Solution, hood like a cobra. I would love to draw Fulgrim as a Medusa now

Perturabo - Look, this all started with the Ultramoorines, and (possibly) bad news, Petty Turbo is also Bull. Same sacred symbolism situation between cultures, plus shit temper, and stubbornness. 

Khan - Okay, I'm not gonna say horse. He likes horses, I don't think he is one. I did think the basic bitch answer Cheetah, but that does not have enough flavor. He's a Hawk. That man is a hawk. 

Leman Russ* - Wolf. I really want to appologize for saying something so obvious.

Dorn - Gonna be real, knee jerk reaction is his Fursona is human. “Humans are animals” mfer.

For real though, wasp. The kind that makes nests in your rafters - builders, short temper, color scheme - I'd hear the argument for Bees as well. 

Konrad Curze - Now, a lot of people associate night lords as bats, AS THEY SHOULD. It is the morally correct thing to do. However, HOWEVER, might I interest you in cat boy Curze? 

Listen, feral bastard, actual night vision not echo location, one of the most efficient hunters in the animal kingdom. Also, someone here on Tumblr dot com said "Konrad with a cat mom" and I will never not wish that in my deepest soul. 

> Also people, normal ass people, with like cat ears and tail, do not count as furries....but like *holds up Catrad* 

Sanguinius - His alluded me. He's got wings, there's been jokes about him being a goose....but he wears a leopards pelt, maybe could take some licenser with that?

Until it hit me.

It's griffin. He likes big cats, has wings, and I want more mythical creature primarchs. Plus, they got an air of nobility while, also, kinda being a mutant in their own way. 

Ferrus - Armadillo Lizard. Look, imma be real, I don't know much about him. However, he's gotta be a reptile to match Fulgrim, and the metal arms translates to armor scales in my mind. I think the evolution of the scales would please him too, cause the Iron Fists got that whole weakness of the flesh thing going on. I think. Also cute as fuck

Angron - I was thinking maybe something that balanced before n after nails, but honestly, Wild Boar. Angry bastards. Also associated with gods of War :3

Guilliman - is locked in, Bull/Cow. I've heard Ultramoorines started due to either the symbolism, or Guilliman wanting to be a farmer. Either is fantastic….but if I COULD change it…Owl just because of Minerva? Felt worth saying lol.

Mortarion - I was thinking Spider for some reason, but I think ultimately it's another one where the chaos god called it. Also, I can see him really liking Moths in general.

Magnus - I've seen him likened to a jackal, and I do really like that. And it would be fun to draw. However, I'd be lying if I said I didn't think Ibis fits better. Ibis was associated with Thoth - God of Wisdom, so big point there, but, once more, chaos god involvement = birb. 

Horus - Capybara 

Okay, okay. So Horus obviously likes wolves, but bro is domesticated honestly. He's really good with people, he charms them. He is a dog. 

Lorgar - Ram!!! He's got that biblical sheep symbolism energy. And horns. And I can't think of anything else lol 

Vulkan* - Dragon. Big, happy dragon.

Corvus Corax* - Raven.

Alpharius and Omegon - "Well Hydra Dominatus, they would be some kind of Scaley-" WRONG! FOX BOIIIZZZZZ

Bonus: 

Jago Sevatarion's is shark.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRfdbtvK/

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 18!

in which i continue to ignore pretty much any and all 8x14-16 content and spent an impressive amount of time procrastinating. it's been a Week for sure. enjoy the fics!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

begin, then begin again | walkingthroughwindows | 7.4k | E

a fic about them relaxing enough to give each other what they already know they need. i love how this captures both buck and eddie!! so in character, and such lovely hurt/comfort <3

can't leave me alone | 42hrb/@exhuastedpigeon | 3.4k | E

“The DMV didn’t have a line,” Eddie says again, taking a step into the room instead of turning around like Buck is expecting him too. If Eddie leaves Buck can take the dildo out of his ass and they can maybe pretend this never happened, or at the very least ignore it for 6 to 12 months, until it’s funny to joke about. such a delight!! so hot, so beautifully written, just perfect!!

divide, conquer and propose? | yimooyi | 3k | GA

Eddie proposes to Buck in Stardew Valley co-op. Buck panics. this is so cute!! i love stardew valley and i love buckett and eds and i love this <3

i wanna be tied tied tied to your apron strings | sibylsleaves/@eddiesprius | 3.2k | E

Buck knows, okay. He doesn’t quite understand it, but he knows. Something about him in an apron turns Eddie into some kind of crazed sex fiend, desperate for Buck’s attention the way Buck usually feels desperate for his. buck wearing nothing but an apron is a vision and i'm so here for it!! love how this captures their dynamic!

in pursuit of good health | lightyears/@bisexualbellamyblake | 6.7k | M

Eddie and Buck start platonically kissing. i saw the summary for this fic and just went yeah you know what these are EXACTLY the type of idiots that would decide to kiss for health benefits lmao. such a wonderful premise for a lovely, lovely fic!!

invisible string, tying you to me | Bexism/@bexism | 17.6k | E

the one where buck and eddie's bodies are linked and they end up sharing injuries and... other things. i love a good body linking fic and this one is just brilliant!! i love the descriptions of how buck and eddie are linked, especially for those other things <3

lover, be good to me | midnights/@roosterseresin | 7.7k | E

in which oranges are picked, muffins are made, and lazy morning sex is had. this fic has the hottest smut but it's also so soft and sweet!! it just has that spring morning vibe, you know? just lovely <3

soy una vela prendida por ti | pairofraggedclaws/@pairofraggedclaws | 8.9k | E

“You cannot mean what I think you mean,” Eddie says. “For old time’s sake!” Buck says. “To remember how it all started.” He kisses Eddie’s hand again. this is part two in a series and part one is also excellent!! such hot fun sweet fics, both of them <3

symbiosis | mandolare/@rainscenes | 9k | E

Buck and Eddie get blackout drunk, and then learn something new about themselves. And each other. i LOVE a good tattoo fic and the premise of this one is just <3 so hot, so very them!!

the rush of slumber party kissing | butchdiaz/@butchdiaz | 3.3k | E

“Okay, Uh—“ he racks his brain for something else Buck has done that he hasn’t. “Never have I ever kissed a man.” Buck doesn't put his finger down, just cocks his head curiously. “Damn, six months without even a kiss, no wonder Tommy left.” Eddie mutters half under his breath. It causes Buck to snap out of his daze and give him a half-hearted middle finger. He’s still thinking, though, eyebrows scrunched together in that adorable way they used to whenever he tried to help Chris with his elementary school math homework. “What, Buck?” “Never?” Buck asks. this was a reread! i love how this captures eddie especially and the dialogue feels so true to character!! so good <3

tomorrow i'll be brave (you make me brave) | serenelystrange/@serenelystrange | 16.9k | T

In which Buck’s life in L.A. falls apart before it can even begin. He never expects an orange tree to be the thing that changes it all. oh, the way i DEVOURED this au... i love how the characters are written here and how everyone meets and interacts and it's just so, so wonderful!!

[hananan2]

Hello! Can I request for pinky promise fluff with Diasomnia for F reader? For example, reader (Yuu) who said something like “I want to visit xxx” and the boys are like “Okay, I will take you there someday.” Then the reader lifts her pinky “pinky promise?” While staring with hopeful and cutesy stare.

Let’s just say there are no pinky promise culture in twisted wonderland so they did not know what to do, but the boys are already down bad for her already so they thought she is horrifyingly cute while explaining it to them. Thanks! ❤️❤️

YES OMG CUTE!! But omg I can not imagine a world without pinky promises they live in hell🥀 Hope you enjoy!!💕

Pinky Promise…?

A/N: BACK FROM THE DEAD! I’ll die again though, I have testing this full week 💔 thank you for staying with me, I’ll still post, just infrequently, love you guys sm and thank you for the support 💕

Summary: You were rambling with your special boy about something and a promise is made, to which you stick out your pinky finger to his face…but he’s confused, uh how do you explain this?

Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver Vanrouge and Sebek Zigvolt!

Info: Fluff, Romantic (crushes), Fem!reader, silly

CW: Gang signs??? (It was a mistake💔)

Malleus Draconia

Tonight was so majestic. The sky was space black and you could almost see the the stars, their brightness glimmering against a small pond with flowers engraved in, and the best thing, A tall Malleus by you side.

You nightly walks had lead to walking somewhere a bit farther, but it was okay since it was pretty as hell, “It’s so gorgeous out here, wow… I just think this is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” You remarked with awe sparked eyes, Malleus on your side looked at you with fondness, “I do agree that this is quite a exquisite landscape, though there is a plenty variety of more enticing views, many of which I have seen in Briar Valley that would perhaps grown fond of as well.” He stated softly, he noticed your eyes sparkling by just seeing this place and he wonders if they would grow bigger and shiner if you saw what he’s seen.

“Ooo Briar valley does look really pretty! I’ve seen my photos and it looks so mythical and magical, it would be really nice to see it in person!” You said with a cheery tint. This felt like a memory of a really old pretty place and it was making you happy, pretty places are really great, but their Better with Malleus here.

Malleus chuckled a little seeing your excitement, he put his hand on his chin and his eyes looked over to look at you as you both stepped on the slightly rocky path, “Then I shall bring you soon, it is even more breathtaking in reality.” He smiled, you smiled. “Really!? Promise?” You exclaimed gleefully, “Oh yes indeed.” He stated, eyes full of love, but they soon fluttered into confusion as you pulled out your pinky finger to his.

He had no idea what to do and stopped walking, you both kinda stared at eachother, no one dare breaking the eye contact, till you felt his hand grab your pinky and hand shake it?? “Oh yes Child of Man, I agree.” He does NOT know what he is agreeing to. “Is this how you humans agree upon something? I can’t I’ve seen Silver do such things…” Malleus trailed off, still shook your pinky.

”Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know you didn’t have these here… yea it’s a “human” thing, uhm it’s a bit of childish to explain.” You murmured, looking away, you pinky started to get warm. Oh my gosh you’re a baby.

Haha cute. “It’s alright Child of Man, I’d like to know about the human culture, so I think starting off from infantry traditions would be quite helpful.” He said, finally let go of your pinky, but he liked holding it, very warm and small, he wondered what your whole hand would feel like.

”Okay so whenever we make a promise, we intertwine our pinky fingers together and say “pinky promise” to make the promise more meaningful and as a way to assure that it won’t be broken, that’s it honestly.” You informed, you enjoyed explaining it though, you felt smart for once and you were happy he was interested.

You soon felt a warm around your pinky again, but it wasn’t a whole hand this time, just a pinky, intertwining.

“I Pinky promise Child of Man I shall take you to Briar Valley one day.” He said we fondness, he liked this tradition, he felt more connected to you, more like a kid, blending into a personality he didn’t know he had.

“Okay!” You smiled, holding his entire hand, both your cheeks dusted rose. Diasomnia better get ready for pinkies in their face all the time because you’ve sparkled a habit in him now.

Lilia Vanrouge

Here you guys were, going through boxes among boxes, gosh did it never end? Lilia had been trying to find a “secret” item from his past for some reason, but he had hid it away in the boxes of his closet that he brought to NRC. You were there too because of course you were, but also because you were trying to coax the secret out of him

“Liliaa tell me geez, it’s just the past, it can’t be that bad” you groan as you help take out each hefty box, not being allowed to open them to your dismay

“Oh you don’t even know an inch of my past…” he chuckled, annoying, but at least he was going through pain too while trying to find this object, his room a mess, looking like an Amazon warehouse, oh they don’t have these here do they?

“Ughhh” you hiss, grabbing his shoulder, shaking him, “Listen, I pinky promise I won’t tell anyone or get mad, I just don’t like you treating me like a kid and I want to know what your hiding or I’ll assume something realllyyyyy bad!” You stuck out your pinky, hoping for it to latch with his.

“Sigh alright alright… so- what are you doing?” His face was colored with an expression of bewilderment once looking at your pinky. “Wow I didn’t know you hated me so much…” he sighs dramatically, suddenly crossing a hand over his heart and slumping over.

“What? Huh?” You call out, your response getting made with fake cries, “it’s a pinky promise! You never heard of it? Also how is that offensive??” You NEED to know, you actually feel kinda bad.

His false misery ends with him laughing up a storm and you look at him, not impressed. “Okay, okay sorry,” he patted your cheeks while he chuckled one last time, “back in my day, Fae used this sign with their pinkies to call someone a…is alt dumb idiotic fool and a bastard, very offensive, some died from using it to the wrong people!” He explained ominously, looking mischievous.

Well you looked horrified. “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!! Don’t kill me or anything!! We use pinky promise to make a really secure promise…honestly it’s a really childish thing to do u had no idea it could ever mean THAT.” You apologized rapidly, he giggled. His pinky latching on yours.

“Oh don’t be an overthinker, if was an honest mistake, besides, Fae need to be inclusive to other cultures! Just wouldn’t recommend doing that in Briar Valley…” he trialed off as he shook your pinky with his, enjoying your silliness and tradition, it was nice for soothing for hurtful and bad to be transformed into something positive, and it’s always you who does it huh? Blessing.

“Yes yes of course…but tell me!” You insist, he gives up.

“Okay… I’m looking for A record of one of my most cherished songs…” he admits defeated.“Um. Is it illegal or something? I don’t get why you’re acting like you’ll get a felony if anyone knows about it…” you admit, underwhelmed., pinkies still interlocked.

“Because it’s a cult Classic and I will not let anyone take this master peice of a song away from me! Oh! Here it is, it was sealed off by magic. I’ll give you a listen since I trust you so very much, you should be glad.”

You give him the pinky again, but not for a promise.

“Hey!”

Lets just say, there will be many misunderstandings from now on, but he loves you, it’s okay.

Silver Vanrouge

When your in Twisted Wonderland, you can’t help being curious about everything, today curiosity? Flowers.

So you set off to a small trip to Botanical Garden with your very limited free time, no plan, no directions, just a dream and hope to find something out.

As you steps through all the lush, you suddenly find a flower, oh wait no, it’s just Silver, sleeping peacefully like he belonged in the grass, usually you wouldn’t wake him up, but it was late sooo. “Mm Silver?” You poke his cheek while crouching to his level

“Hm…? Hm! Oh Y/N it’s you, my apologies you’ve found me in this state…” his cheeks tinted as he got caught lacking by you, but was it because of that or something else?

“Your fine, i don’t mind! Just concerned since its getting late, so why are you in here?” You assure, he fixes his posture and looks at you with intent, cheeks pink still.

“Ah, as you know I’ve been trying to find a remedy for my sleeping issues. Recently father had found a book from his ancient archive on strong herbs and flowers that are very effective for potions, so I came here to see if I could locate the items to help my cause, no luck.” He explained slowly, wanting you to understand fully and sound more proper. Whenever he talked to you, he couldn’t help but wanting to talk a bit faster, he needs to stop that.

Flowers? “Oh flowers? I’ve been interested in that topic the whole day and I really wanted to learn more about it! I’m so happy someone’s on the same page as me, that’s so cool!” He loved the way you glimmered when you expressed strong emotions.

He smiled fondly, “I could ask father for you to borrow the book for a bit, if course you’d have to take exceptional care if it and agree to his terms and conditions, but it’s possible.” He stated softly, patting the patch of grass next to him for you to sit closer, you did with joy.

“Really? Thank you, you’re amazing! I will! Pinky promise?” You pointed you finger to him, so now his softness was replaced with something you didn’t see often, a confused Silver.

“Oh uhm…sorry I don’t know if my father has any books about pinky promises, I’ve never heard of that before…” he stared at your finger not knowing what to do, you put your hand down and giggled.

“Oh I didn’t know they didn’t have those here… kinda depressing…sorry! Basically it’s a tradition from my world where when we want to make a strong promise, we use our pinky and interlock them to make it final!” You explained calmly, his calmness rubbing off on you. Silly Billy you are.

“Oh alright, That makes sense, thank you, yes here.” He raises his hand sticks out his pinky, “go ahead, my lady.” Hello mutters serenely as he died from being flustered.

You interlocked pinkies, the touch so small, yet making his whole body pink, and then you felt his body weight on you, silly fell asleep mid promise.

You sit there quietly, enjoying the weight and silence, his silver hair rubbing against your shoulder, pinkies remaining locked.

Since that day you’ve been receiving flowers from little critters more frequently than ever, each carrying a note talking about the flowers significance. And also since that day, he always uses pinky promises because he adores holding that part of you in him. Oh he loves your glimmer.

Sebek Zigvolt

“Okay im going to make a deal with you so good you can’t deny!” You declare loudly to Sebek to match his energy. Set the scene, Sebek and you. sitting in his dorm, thighs slightly touching yes this is important because it’s making you both red! Both of you are doing a collage-poster- board study of some of the best magic wielders in Twisted wonderland, we all know who Sebek chose, but sadly for him, he didn’t know how to use a printer. “Such thing is not possible human since my self control is at its highest and is strengthening everyday!” He responds offendedly to your previous comment, looking at you, because he is mad of course and not because of that pretty face trust.

“I’ll get you VERY high quality and amazing pictures of Malleus…and a secret about him as well…” whisper ominously “If you stop screaming in my ear and treat me like the Queen I am for the time being!” How mischievous.

He is in between unimpressed and impressed. “I can’t know just things about my liege…he should tell me himself…” he curled up into a ball and kid his face, murmuring to himself like the demons in his head ate taking over. (It’s just him himself)

You pat his shoulder to calm him a little, “your not going to get castrated breathe…” you whisper calmly, “what?! No! Ugh, alright! I agree!” He admits. Face red, making sure you don’t see it, but fortunately for your amusement, his ears give it away.

Great! Now you just gotta seal it with a pinky promise! C’mon!” You poke his face with your pinky, waiting for his with a goofy smile. “Stop…” he mumbled, picking his head up. “What is the meaning of this.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Pinky Promise! I pinky promise I’ll tell you an epic Malleus secret if you behave!” You proudly restate, his mind is shambles at trying to figure this out.

“Is this one of your silly human traditions?” He stares at you with his arms crossed, not looking forward to this.

“Oh my gosh! You don’t know what a pinky promise is? Okay okay so!” You yap about all the meaning and significance of pinky promises with joy radiating from you,. And surprisely, there are no interruptions and only head nods and “hms.” Your joy soothes his hatred for humans, he can’t help go a little soft when he sees you explain something so happily, it reminds him of himself when he discusses Malleus, who is he to interrupt?

“I see I see…I’m not sure if I am willing of doing such silly human traditions but…” Holy mother of Malleus Draconia he can’t help not deny you, his pinky latches to your, squeezing it tight, face facing downwards again due to his face being even brighter, his ears are still a loss cause as they’re tinted red, you don’t ever plan on telling him. You just laugh, you could say he loved tomfoolery.

“Now before you share everything with me, I shall get you some water.” He states clearly in a gentle and quiet manner, when he pinky promises he means it.

Little do you know, everyone shall hear about the tradition of pinky promises now because your he feels the need to share your joy.

[sqgeism]

Hi! I hope you're doing well!

I have a bit of a specific Anaxa request: we all know this guy is prickly like a cactus, and probably wouldnt show any kind of physical affection/be overly affectionate whatsoever. maybe the reader can be lightly airing all their frustrations to an unsuspecting dromas/chimera they stumbled upon, and anaxa happens to walk right by when they say "I don't know why he feels he needs to keep me at an arm's length, in the end, all i want is to be loved; and i wish the same for him."

I just feel like that sentence would make anaxa flabberghasted and make him rethink some things.

ty for reading!!

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | anaxagoras x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; as tipsy as a boat on unforgiving seas, you rant your heartaches to a cute, clueless chimera. (that weirdly looks like your boyfriend) not knowing that the very man stands behind you, listening to you pour out every feeling he'd never want to subject you to.

love mail — say yes to me. i haven't done an event in a while, would people be interested in that (*ﾟーﾟ)? sigh finally anaxagoras solo post without the other two added LMAO this guy is so popular on my account its kind of insane. thank u anaxa... for reviving sqgeism in the big 25.. i thought this was long but it's acc kind if short forgive me anonnie LMAO

for all the good moments in your relationship with anaxagoras, there were still bad. and the bad.. could get really awful very quickly.

even if he was growing to be careful, changing, being better, he still had his 'demise'— as he called it. he was set on a mission long before you, and you've accepted that. it didn't mean that it didn't hurt when you knew he was trying to keep you away, though he says it's to keep you safe, you knew it was for another reason.

anaxagoras wasn't—for all his genius as a scholar and a teacher—very good at things that involved vulnerability. it was something he'd ripped out of his cold, dead heart, leaving it whatever remaining feelings he had left to rot. clearly not enough, he'd remark, if he could still feel it beat every time you came close. fingers brushing over his own, lips getting too close for comfort, despite being together—he was still afraid. very.. very afraid.

but you weren't angry at him for being so, how could you? for all the hurt he's faced, the terrors that follow him like his shadow, you just can't. but you feel neglected, left to freeze in an unforgiving winter. you craved warmth, but no flame could thaw your loneliness.

and so when anaxagoras, once again, locks himself in his lab for aeon's know how long.. you're off. you had the control to at least leave a note where you're going; a bar close by to let loose. but you clumsily throw it on the nearest table and walk out. the tears were becoming overwhelming, and you just needed to cry. it felt cruel to be mad, but your heart knew what it wanted. it wanted someone badly, drawn to a rose with far too sharp of thorns. but you didn't care. you knew it was a part of him, and you chose him regardless. you wonder if he knows that he's loved, and how much he truly is.

and he does. in a way that overwhelms him, that makes him be the way he is. he knows you care, and that's why when he leaves his study hours earlier, the note unseen by his sharp gaze, he panics. you're not in bed, nor the living room, you're not home. thunder claps break him out of his thoughts, and he realizes you could be out there, in the rain, for who knows how long.

he runs out without hesitation.

doesn't care if he's soaking wet, or his students that may see their half-gone professor running through amphoreus in the rain, he's afraid. for once, his cowardice it isn't of the idea of you, but losing you. he's beginning to realize that there will be something worse than his fears destroying him.

it's having you slip away from his grasp.

he's afraid of affection because he might lose you. he's afraid of everything about loving you because he might lose you. he's lost so much, it scarred him. that the closest thing to paradise surely should have been an illusion, that it was all just a ploy to put him back together and break him apart all over again. he thought it was stupid, the obvious plan set by the 'gods'.

but he was just in love, so very in love. and it could never be stupid if the center of his affection was you.

and there you are, thank goodness. you're laying against an elevated tile as you're on the floor, arms on the said tile, and underneath the bars cover as a chimera sits by your head. you're clearly drunk, cause even if his heels splashed against the puddles towards you, failing to notice. gaze fixed on the little creature as he hears you speak.

"i just don't.. understand." you slurred, your face pressed against your arms as the chimera chirps. i don't know.. why" hic "he feels he needs to keep me at an arm's length.. in the end, all i want is to be loved; and i wish the same for him."

you don't even know what those words do to him. a man of many words, brought to silence. you look like a fae in the moonlight, ethereal and breathtaking. and anaxa's sopping wet in the rain, refusing to be under the bars covers as he feels he doesn't deserve it. the harsh weather prickles his skin, but he feels nothing. nothing but the cruel twist of a dagger through his heart.

he falls to his knees, the water around him makes a large splash as you turn your head. in your dazed state, your eyes don't recognize him, but your heart does. and you move without even realizing. "anaxagoras, my love?" he feels something cover his head, and he looks up to see you fussing and using your jacket to shield him from the rain. even if you were frustrated, venting about him, you still had the heart to worry. you still tried to help him, and he's such a fool to only appreciate that now. "what did i tell you about calling me that? to you, i'm anaxa. stop.. stop forgetting."

he doesn't know what to say, and he's thankful for the conditions so you don't see the way he starts to cry. his lips are trembling as his hand slowly stops yours, guiding it to his cheek and leaning into your palm. it isn't flowery words, he's bad at anything that isn't statistical or academic, but it's a gesture of something more. "i.. i'm so sorry." he muttered sorrowfully. "i've been taking you for granted. i didn't mean to, but i did. and that's unforgiveable. you don't deserve this life, and i—"

you cut him off by pulling him in, away from the world, under the shelter and into your arms. you two probably look silly, two influential figures in your own ways in amphoreus, snuggling up outside a bar in the rain. but anaxa has long discarded the idea of caring of others opinions, all he can focus on is how your heart begins to race. like you're as startled as he is. that he isn't alone in taking this leap. and for once, he's okay with that. having someone.. to truly take care of.

you wake up in bed the next morning, your head painful and your throat dry, but you're warm. and that's when you notice anaxa behind you, arms wrapped around you securely and his head partially buried in your hair. he's.. fast asleep. which is a first, you can't remember the last time he chose the bed rather than his office chair.

but you don't complain, aeon's, how could you?

you choose to fall back into the gentle hands of slumber, looking forward to waking up next to anaxa.

[mazeeelabyrinth]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ PROJECT BUNNY ⋆ ˚｡⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆˚ ♡ Chapter II: System Error: Unexpected Input

You glanced at the chat, watching as X-Devoted’s name remained calm in the frenzy. The same name that had haunted your shift, now haunting your stream.

No. Not the same. It’s not him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆˚➷ Pairing: lads lis x afab!fem camgirl!reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆˚➷ Tags: 18+, eventual smut, porn with plot, porn w/ feelings, camgirl au, canon divergence au, stalking, paranoia, crying while masturbating, unreliable narrator, second pov, dark romance, reverse harem, shameless smut, explicit, voyeurism, praise kink, porn, ooc, sex toys, clothing fetish, cosplay, ddlg (daddy dom/little girl), pet names, live masturbation, power play, strip tease, sex work, streaming culture, parasocial relationship, obsessive parasocial behavior, dirty talk, reader is not mc, reader has a day job, reader is addressed as "Bunny" or "PixelBunny" on stream, masked identities, veiled threats

⋆ ˚｡⋆˚➷ Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: sorry this took too long, I've suffered from writing-block-titis

➷ MASTERLIST ➷ AO3 ➷ NAVIGATION

You slid the latte across the counter with the same shaky hands you used to edge yourself on stream six hours ago. It was a miracle the foam heart art didn’t come out looking like a cum-stained potato.

“Order for Xavier!” You chirped, instantly hating yourself for the lingering bratty lilt.

He walked up. Paid. His fingers brushed against yours. He took his latte with a polite nod, the cup held in long fingers like it was too precious to spill.

“You might wanna try our Bavarian donuts. They taste good.” Goddamn it, your customer-service-slave self just had to offer something. Something creamy and sweet—almost reminded you of something inappropriate.

Those blues lingered on your face a bit longer once more. You didn’t breathe, eye twitching for his reply. Up close, he smelled faintly of clean linen and something darker underneath—like ozone before a lightning strike. Yes, you figured that out.

Then finally, the corners of his lips tugged in a subtle smile and quietly left you several bills of tip. But he didn’t thank you again. He just nodded, slow and polite. And turned to leave.

Calm. Measured. Gone.

“Thank you, Xavier. Come again,” you said, still sporting a polite smile as you watched the back of his head.

With a shuddering breath, your hand slowly stashed the bills into your pocket, moving as if you were involved in a drug deal in broad daylight. Heck, you ignored the tip jar sitting on the counter near you. Handsome customer, handsome tip—whatever tip you were talking about. 

Most importantly, the crisis was averted—or so you thought. 

You spun back toward the espresso machine. Then paused. Something was wrong. Another cautious glance thrown over your shoulder, slow enough you could almost hear your cervical spine creak.

The cute motherfucker didn’t leave. 

You wished he would just take the latte and walk out like a normal hot guy with cheekbones sharp enough to slice God.

But no. He sat. Right by the window, in the corner, where golden morning light spilled across the wood in long, lazy strips. The seat with the best view of the register. The one that conveniently gave him full range to watch the counter, the café, and you.

Xavier—if that is his real name—was lounging in the corner of the café like he belonged there. Like the low thrum of café chatter and the hiss of milk steamers were made for him. Like a man with nothing urgent but endless time.

One leg crossed over the other, a paperback novel in his lap—spine cracked just enough to say: yes, I’ve read this more than once. Though you were pretty sure he hadn't turned a page in the last twenty minutes.

Every so often, he sipped his latte—precise, methodical—and casted his gaze out the window like he was watching the rain.

Only... it was not raining. And he was not really watching anything.

Sure, customers were always welcomed to lounge in the café—natural, expected—but something about him staying bothered you more than it should have. 

You sneaked glances in between drink orders and fake smiles, hoping you were subtle. 

He didn’t pull out a laptop. Didn’t fiddle with his phone. No earbuds, no distractions. Just sipped his drink, one hand cupped loosely around the cup, eyes casted out the window like he was people-watching. Like he was casually, disinterestedly omniscient. 

As if he enjoyed being there. Maybe he did. 

And you were starting to unravel. It felt like it was being streamed. But worse. Because this camera had a breath. 

You could feel his gaze, even when it was not on you. Like a ghost fingertip tracing the dip of your spine through your apron. 

Calm. Curious. But not unkind.

Every now and then, when you thought he was not looking, you still kept throwing glances. And when you were looking—he was, too.

Never long enough to be obvious. Never short enough to be meaningless. Just little flickers of attention, like he was checking something off a list in his head.

You were not being stared at—that would be obvious, borderline flirty. It would be like a cheesy romcom only if your stomach did not flip with dread, instead of butterflies. 

No. It was the kind of awareness that creeps under your skin like static. As if, at any given second, he could flick his gaze your way and read you like your stream chat log.

You busied yourself wiping tables, fetching milk refills, laughing too hard at a coworker’s shitty joke. But every time you passed by his peripheral, you swear you could feel it:

That flicker of recognition. 

That tightening in your gut. 

That stupid, traitorous thought: Could it be…?

Ah, you’re just sleep-deprived. 

The latte you made him now sat cold and unfinished. He has been there for over an hour.

One coworker asked, voice pitched higher than normal. “Think he’s waiting for someone? He’s so cute.”

Another giggled, “Hope he’s not a mystery shopper. I over-steamed the milk twice because I was distracted.”

One reply had your cunt clenching in a sudden spike of anxiety, “Maybe he’s stalking someone.”

That made you wiped down a counter with unnecessary force. The memory of a certain user—X-Devoted—whispering filthy praises into your brain last night made your ears burn.

Xavier.

You told yourself it wasn’t him. That it couldn’t be. X-Devoted was just a username, just one of your top five high-tier simps, the kind who never turned his camera on but always made you repeat his name when you came.

“Say it.”

“Louder.”

“Good girl.”

You bit your lip as you scrubbed out a mug that already looked clean. You could still feel the ache from last night. The way you rocked back onto your heels, trembling and teary, trying to squirt for the camera because he had said please.

Minutes later, you nearly knocked over a tray when someone ordered a chai and says “extra hot,” and your filthy brain immediately rewinded to X-Devoted’s voice note—

“Say you want it hotter. No—moan it, Bunny.”

You dropped a spoon.

Your coworker gave you a look. “You good?”

You nodded too fast.

“Caffeine withdrawal,” you lied, teeth bared in a nervous grin. “I’m fine. Totally fine.”

It couldn’t be him though, X-Devoted’s voice was deeper. But what if it was altered…? 

Your train of unwarranted thoughts was cut off when you heard a coworker giggle just near the espresso machine behind you.

“Oh stop, Lysander,” Sarah cooed, quiet and flirty, probably batting her eyelashes at her companion. 

Oh right. She and your manager were “secretly” dating as if the whole café staff didn’t know about their afterwork shenanigans in the office. Rolling your eyes, you left them and headed back to the front counter.

The hours blurred. You did what you always do:

You steamed milk. Burnt your wrist on the espresso machine. Got powdered sugar in your hair. Listened to your coworker drone on about her astrology boyfriend, “He’s a Gemini, but like, emotionally monogamous.”

You scrubbed a suspicious brown smear off the bathroom sink. Your playlist repeated itself. Twice.

You were just a barista.

Just a broke girl in a bunny headset who came so hard last night she saw stars and then woke up to this soul-leeching job that pays you enough to afford a few nice vibrators and some instant noodles.

You do not have a stalker. You do not know this man. He is innocent. Stop assuming the worst, you are fine.

Except when you glanced back—he was still there. He ordered one refill and a Bavarian donut, then went right back to his silent vigil—silver hair catching the late morning light like he stepped out of a sad film and into your smut-saturated breakdown.

The morning dragged like a heavy cuff wrapped around your ankle. And you felt exposed as the clock ticked. Even your name tag now stared back at you like an accusation.

PIXEL.

You hadn't changed it. You forgot to. 

Well, fuck. Moreover, fuck your bubbling caffein-induced paranoia.

You grimaced at the nickname. You never told your manager your screen handle—not entirely. It was just the stupid name tag. Coincidence. Nothing to unravel there.

By the time the lunch rush fizzled out into yawning silence and mopped floors, your legs were jelly and your patience threadbare. Xavier finally had left—quietly, without a word, his cup placed neatly on the table like a gentleman who was never there.

But his absence somehow felt louder than his presence. 

You blinked and it’s 3:58 PM. Two minutes to freedom.

“Hey,” your manager called from the back. “Before you go, can you empty the feedback box? It’s getting full.”

You sighed. Figures. No overtime pay for digging through paper Karen rage. But still, you nodded, grateful for something to do that didn’t involve thinking about that customer. 

You headed over to the corner, grabbed the key, and popped open the metal box marked “SPILL THE TEA 🍵” beside the community corkboard, filled with curling coupons and forgotten dog-walking flyers.

A cascade of crumpled notes spilled into your hands. You crouched beside it with a sigh, and started pulling scraps of paper like it was confetti from the world’s saddest birthday party.

The usual mix of bad handwriting, coffee orders disguised as critiques. Mostly it was receipts scribbled with complaints, napkins with hearts drawn in coffee, one kid’s crayon sketch of what might’ve been a bear, or possibly your shift supervisor.

More usual crap like: 

“Great chai!”

“Give Sarah a raise.”

“Someone left a diaper in the bathroom again. Ugh…”

“Great service! Coffee was too hot like the shy-hunk barista.”

“I bumped into my crush today, he bought me a box of macarons ♡ — Layla”

“I saw a bug. Might’ve just been a raisin. Still.”

One sketch of what might be a penis. You snorted. Typical.

But one folded slip caught your eyes. It was neater than the others. Thick ivory paper. No handwriting on the back. You opened it, expecting another “hire hotter baristas” complaint. Instead:

"I had a strange dream last night. She was moaning in it.”

Your stomach dropped. 

That’s it—no signature, neat handwriting in blue-inked pen. Just that single sentence, cleanly folded.

Slanted slightly to the right.

Your throat tightened as you glanced back across the café, half-expecting to see him—but the seat in the corner was empty. Only the imprint of his weight lingered in the cushion, and a paper coffee cup still half-full. The sleeve was turned inside out.

You hesitated. You didn’t check it. Not yet. Not with the others watching. Not while your hands were shaking. 

Maybe it was just a note from a straight-laced man suppressing raging hormones as though he was a seminarian training for priesthood—using the feedback box as though it was a confessional booth for his sinful, filthy dream. 

Or maybe it was written by the “crush” of that girl who received a box of macarons, dreaming of her moaning, therefore, the treat.

Still, you folded the note back and stuffed it in your pocket, trying not to think too hard. Trying not to imagine a pair of glacial blue eyes watching you through a flickering screen. 

  — ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ —

Your body was running on caffeine, sin, and fumes—but you have got one last mission before you crawl back into your den of pink neon depravity. After locking up your apron and clocking out with a dead-eyed smile, you traded your customer-service persona for your real one: mildly dazed, moderately unhinged, and perpetually overstimulated.

The fluorescent buzz of CUP O' SUNSHINE! was replaced by the hum of city noise as you stepped out into the dying light of the evening. A symphony of neon reflections and distant sirens.

The air was thick with the scent of rain-soaked concrete and distant sea salt, a blend unique to Linkon’s coastal sprawl.

Each step echoed the weight of the anonymous note now crumpled in your pocket. The words—“I had a strange dream last night. She was moaning in it.”—looped in your mind, intertwining with the memory of Xavier's lingering gaze.

It was still folded tight in your pocket, burning a hole through the fabric like a hot brand. You had not dared read it again—not since slipping it into your trousers with trembling fingers.

It didn’t even say anything, not really. It was vague and could be written by any customer. But it read like a whisper pressed to your ear in the dark. Like someone saw you. Like someone knew.

You fished out your phone to check the time.

Parcel delivered. P.O. box. 

Great. You had almost forgotten. 

You took a right at the alley with the mural of a weeping koi fish and headed toward the post office, pulling your hoodie up over your head. It was an oversized black one with a small, pink bunny embroidery sitting on the chest area—cute, discreet. Camgirl-meets-coffee-goblin chic.

You made your way to the Bloomshore District, its vintage charm offering a brief respite from the modern hustle. The post office here was quaint—sandwiched between a payday loan shark and a discount pharmacy—with brass fixtures and a bell that jingles as you enter.

The fluorescent-lit interior was as soul-sucking as ever, but your fingers twitched with anticipation. You unlocked the little metal door marked B-3029, and there it was—tucked in like a filthy little love letter from the void:

A box. No sender listed. Light. Wrapped in matte black tape.

You grinned like the unholy gremlin you were. You know what it was. One of your high-paying patrons—maybe Syl.Draconia, maybe Mr. WhiteCoat, or C.Pilot—had DM’d you cryptically mid-stream a few nights before.

“You’ll know which end is yours.”

“Designed for repeat destruction.”

“I had it custom-made.”

It was nothing too scandalous this time—maybe. Just new accessories for your Pixel Bunny persona: lace cuffs, ribbon chokers, a cropped sailor blouse that would barely cover your nipples. Though oftentimes, you would receive surprise items usually from any of them. 

You ran your fingers along the corner of the packaging, heart hammering, heat blooming in your core from the memory of last night’s stream—how you had let yourself fall apart for them.

Your lips twitched.

A part of you was flattered—she would be, your pastel-drenched persona with her fluttering lashes and soft “ohs,” “ahs,” and “oopsies.” But you? The real you?

You felt somewhat… suddenly conflicted. Still, you needed the money. Receiving gifts helped lower the expenses for various streams.

And like a sinner walking out of church, you clutched it to your chest and slipped it into your bag as you left. Its weight feels heavier than it should.

You tugged your hoodie tighter, exhaling into the collar. Your second destination was only a few blocks away now. Discreetly tucked between a bookstore and a bubble tea shop, the little adult boutique was one of the few places in the city that felt judgment-free.

The clerk knew you by now—never asked questions, always tossed in a free bottle of lube if you bought anything battery-powered.

Just as you turned around another corner, nose buried in your phone, distracted by a text from R.tist!c about how he wanted you to reenact Ophelia drowning in pearls next stream…

When—bam—you slammed shoulder-first into someone.

“Oh shit—sorry!” you blurted, staggering back a step.

Your boring tote bag slipped. So did their belongings. 

Your phone clattered to the ground, followed by what looked like a sketchpad and a purple gift box, tumbling onto the pavement with an offended thwack.

Your knee knocked into their dropped package. You were already crouching, grabbing it with one hand, handing it over without even looking up. 

“My bad, seriously—I'm in a rush.” 

You're red-faced, head-down, hoodie hiding your features as you reach for your phone and scurried, leaving trails of regret and lingering paranoia.

Behind you, the man stooped to gather scattered sketches and his sketchpad. His voice, laced with irritation, reached your ears:

"Watch where you're going, you—"

He paused, the rest of his sentence swallowed by the city's noise. 

You didn't look back.

The man straightened, brushing non-existent dust from his white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal paint-stained forearms. His dusky purple hair—damped from the drizzle—fell over his eyes, which glinted with irritation. He watched your retreating figure, disdain playing on his lips, as he tucked the sketchpad under his arm.

"Rude bitch," he muttered, low, like the man was not used to being ignored. 

The voice was sharp, rough like charcoal on canvas. Familiar in a way that had made your spine bristle.

You tucked it away. Add it to the file in your mind marked ‘Weird Shit That’s Probably Nothing’—just like the anonymous note. Just like Xavier’s stare.

Just like the growing ache in your gut that said someone was watching, waiting, peeling you apart layer by trembling layer.

Soon, you pushed open the frosted door of Aphrodisia Noir, the boutique bell jingled softly as you stepped inside. You were greeted by lavender lights and the quiet thrum of synth music. It smelled like latex, perfume, and just the faintest hint of scented candles. Safe. Familiar.

Rows of tastefully arranged toys—nothing garish, nothing gross. You breathed out. For a moment, your mask slipped. You’re not Pixel Bunny here. You’re just tired, poor, and horny enough to justify spending your tip money on something that vibrates at three speeds.

“Rough day?” Lilith, the clerk, called. Her full lips curled in a knowing smirk, painted with matte black lipstick, a stark contrast to the fairness of her skin.

“Kind of,” you replied, giving her a smile. “You got new ones?”

Lilith blew her vape, deliberate and languid as though she had all the time in the world. The white cloud of vapor slightly obscured her pallid face. 

“Got new eggs, cuffs, lubes n’ then some,” she finally said, hopping down from behind the counter. “Come.”

  — ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ —

By the time you stepped back into your tiny apartment, the sun was long gone. Night had poured into the city like dark velvet, and the windows hummed with distant hover traffic and muffled nightlife static.

The door clicked shut behind you with a finality that felt like exhaling after hours underwater. 

Your apartment was still dim—one narrow strip of LED pink licking up the wall, casting a soft glow over the cluttered haven of a broke girl with expensive secrets: cosplay wigs hanging like trophies, unopened mail balancing precariously on your microwave, and three empty energy drink cans sharing space with a bottle of lube.

The silence was sacred here. No espresso machines. No suspicious notes. No silver-haired men sitting like predators in public cafés. Just you.

You undressed slowly—shedding the mundanity of your barista disguise. Off went the uniform shirt, damped with a day’s sweat. Off went your stockings, rolled down your thighs like shed skin. You stepped into the bathroom, took a quick warm shower, ate takeout dinner, brushed your teeth, took a piss like a normal human being.

Everything you wore in your “real” life felt like a costume now—one you shed with the grace of a practiced sinner.

You set down your tote containing the parcel from the post office on the bed, fingers fumbling with tired muscle memory. The boutique bag from Aphrodisia Noir rested beside it, a tangible reminder of your indulgence.

A subtle reminder of who you were about to become.

You were still you, technically. Just… a different flavor—barista by day, cam girl by night.

And any minute now, she would return.

Pixel Bunny.

The brat. The tease. The virtual siren with a cutely stammered “H-hi everybun~!” and the kind of thighs that looked better parted.

You pulled the cropped sailor blouse over your bare chest. It was baby blue and dangerously tight—your nipples pressed against the fabric like secrets dying to be spilled. You wrapped the lace cuffs around your wrists. Clipped on the oversized bunny ears headset. Tied the satin ribbon choker snug around your throat.

Skirt? Barely there. Bent with your hips like a good sub and rode up too high even when you’re still.

The new toy—long, sleek, and remote-controlled—sat pretty on your desk, still in its packaging from Aphrodisia Noir. You unwrapped it slowly, teasing yourself with the plastic crinkle before slipping it into your thigh-high stocking band like a hidden dick-shaped dagger.

The mirror didn’t lie. You looked edible. A bratty little tease begging to be ruined.

Soon, you propped yourself onto the bed with a sigh, eyes already flicking toward your desk.

The rig was waiting.

The ring light loomed like a hungry moon.

The pastel setup, untouched since last night, still smelled faintly like arousal and body spray and plastic.

You checked the time—ten minutes until showtime.

Your heart was already pounding. Not from nerves. Not entirely.

No—you wanted this. You wanted them to see you, wanted them desperate. Most importantly, wanted their credits, their praises, their silent need bleeding through usernames.

The screen glowed with a brief countdown before bathing you in an ethereal haze of soft filters and lo-fi beats that bloomed through your mic. You perched delicately on your bed, the camera tilted just enough to catch the swell of your thighs, the curve of your waist, and the coy fall of your lashes.

The chat slowly exploded—48… 86… 793… viewers entered the chat. Bunny and heart emojis flooded the loading screen.

And then, finally—PixelBunny is live.

Syl.Draconia 💎 has entered the chat. 🐇

Mr. WhiteCoat 💎 is watching.

C.Pilot tipped 999 credits: hey Bun :D

R.tist!c 💎 has entered the chat. 🐇

You pouted, voice trembling in that perfect practiced tone—sweet, shy, bratty to the bone.

“G-good evening, everybun. I… I’ve missed you…” Your words melted into a soft giggle. The bell on your choker jingled.

Syl.Draconia: Youre late bunny.

Mr.WhiteCoat: I’ve been waiting for exactly 15 minutes.

R.tist!c: tsk dirty muse

R.tistic: at least youre finally here i had a shitty encounter i need this

C.Pilot: that skirt better be shorter than last time.

You shifted on the bed, letting the camera catch just enough thigh to drive them wild. Messages flew. Tips dinged. Your viewers—your patrons—were already hard and hungry behind their screens.

You grinned. The rush of power had hit you hard and fast.

Mr. WhiteCoat: Are you still sore from last night, Bunny? 

R.tist!c: i want to draw you like this legs open skin blushed soaked

Syl.Draconia: That outfits indecent. Its… perfect.

C.Pilot: Bunny brought a new toy. let’s watch her squirm. >:)

“You noticed…? T-this toy’s special. I got it j-just for tonight.” You shifted your weight, letting the skirt ride up just a little more. “Should I let you watch me try it on, mm?”

You held up the toy and giggled when the chat exploded. Emojis. Threats. Obsession.

Yes.

now

Good girl.

be obedient.

You scooted back on your bed, legs spreading just enough to tease the outline of what was to come. “Let’s see who begs the prettiest tonight,” you whispered, lowering the toy to the damp strip of lace that barely covered your cunt.

The vibrations started low. Your breath caught—lips parting, lashes fluttering. You imagined them all in the dark, fists clenched, muttering your name like a prayer or a curse. Each one thinking you were his alone.

You pulled the toy back into view and trailed it along your thigh, your fingers trembled with more than just performance. There was a pit in your stomach—a twisting knowledge that maybe one or two of them saw you today in the real world. 

You swallow hard as you slid your sheer panties aside, finally exposing that cunt your patrons had always wished to devour and dump with their cum. Push the toy in—slowly, deliberately—and let the moan slip out like a secret.

Chat went feral.

But beneath it—underneath the teasing and the tips and the slutty little moans you had let out for them—there was a flicker of something else. X-Devoted was not in the chat yet, which reminded you of a certain customer from the café today.

A whisper in your head that maybe X-Devoted was indeed Xavier. Maybe he had started guessing. Worse, maybe he had already connected the dots after the café incident—therefore, the cryptic note.

Curses. The paranoia was slowly affecting your performance. But for now… you arched your back, pressed the toy to your inner thigh, and let the cam roll.

X-Devoted: Dont stop. I want to see how long u last without saying my name

Your eyes snapped to the chat, heart racing. The note from the café, the eerie familiarity of Xavier’s gaze—it all swarmed back like a hornet’s nest poked with a stick. X-Devoted’s username was finally there, sending the same kind of commands he always did, the same kind of dark poetry that made your body respond like it was on cue.

You took a deep, shaky breath and forced a giggle. “Someone’s eager tonight, aren’t they?” You whispered, winking into the camera, even though the gesture was lost in the haze of your own fear and excitement.

Mr.WhiteCoat: Don’t let them distract you, Bunny.

R.tist!c: youre mine tonight no need to entertain boomers

The tips grew more frequent, more desperate, like throwing coins into a fountain of desire. You tried to focus, to ignore the way your palms were suddenly slick with something more than anticipation.

C.Pilot: you’re doing so good baby. just remember who loves you.

Syl.Draconia: So close little bunny. I want to feel it.

You slid the toy back into your quivering cunt, the buzzing a distant echo of the pounding in your ears. You needed this. The money, the power—the escape. But as the vibrations grew stronger, so did the fear that maybe, just maybe, X-Devoted knew. Maybe he had seen through your digital veil and found you.

And as you watched your patrons’ names flicker and pulse with each tip, your eyes blurred. The line between PixelBunny and your real self grew thinner than the lace of your panties. The toy grew slick with your need, with their need, and your thoughts swam with images of Xavier’s calm gaze.

“W-who’s going to make me c-cum first?” You asked, voice shaking with the tension of the day’s events.

R.tist!c: its gonna be me bunny

X-Devoted: Dont rush. Take ur time

C.Pilot: no one else but me, your boyfriend.

Mr. WhiteCoat: That’s it, PixelBunny. Push it in deeper.

Syl.Draconia: Shift slightly on your left. Let me see that cunt come perfectly.

You glanced at the chat, watching as X-Devoted’s name remained calm in the frenzy. The same name that had haunted your shift, now haunting your stream.

No. Not the same. It’s not him.

The tips grew more frantic. The vibrations grew stronger. You felt like a marionette dancing on strings of desire, each pull and push from your patrons echoing through your clenched fist around the toy. They didn’t know the turmoil behind your smile—the tremble in your voice. 

They thought it was all for them.

And maybe it was.

Maybe the anonymity of the internet was a paper-thin veil. Maybe X-Devoted had recognized you—his favorite little rabbit—and was now watching you with the same detached curiosity as he had at the café. Maybe the note was his way of saying hello.

But X-Devoted’s messages remained the same—his usual blend of sweet and sharp, of control and adoration. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. You told yourself that, even as you felt his eyes on you, even as your body responded to his commands.

It’s not him, was it? Xavier was not X-Devoted. What happened in the café was all just a coincidence. Xavier is a common name.

The toy thrummed inside you, the vibrations building to a crescendo that matched the frantic typing in the chat. The camera caught the shimmer of your tears—tiny pearls that clung to your lashes. The patrons took it as part of the act, assuming they were tears of pleasure, not fear. The tips grew more frantic, the words more demanding.

Mr. WhiteCoat: Poor Bunny. 

R.tist!c: yes baby spread those legs wider 

Syl.Draconia: Take it out show us how wet you are.

C.Pilot: you’re so beautiful when you’re crying. and full of my cum.

With trembling hands, you pulled out the toy, the wetness coating it reflecting the soft pink glow of your room. The chat exploded with lewd comments and tips—each one adding another layer to the pressure building in your chest. 

You spread your legs wider, displaying yourself like a peep show doll, all while trying to ignore the voice in your head that whispered, "What if Xavier's was indeed watching as X-Devoted?"

You began to rub your clit with shaky fingers, the chilly air in the room a stark contrast to the heat building between your thighs. Each touch sent sparks through you, and you threw your head back, moaning for the camera. The tips grew more generous, the messages more urgent.

Mr.WhiteCoat: Insert another finger, PixelBunny. I know you can take it.

R.tist!c: look how pretty you are

Syl.Draconia: Give us what we want.

C.Pilot: that’s it baby. let go for me.

X-Devoted tipped 2500 credits.

X-Devoted remained silent, just giving tips but not saying anything—just like Xavier did in the café. His absence in the chat was a palpable presence that sent a cold shiver down your spine. You knew he was there, watching. 

You could almost feel his gaze boring into you—calculating, assessing.

You slammed the toy back inside, the sound of it echoing in the quiet room. Your eyes squeezed shut as you bit back a scream. The orgasm ripped through you, a storm of pleasure and panic that painted your face in shades of ecstasy and dread.

The chat erupted into a symphony of digital applause, each ding of a tip a validation of your submission.

Your breathing slowed, the tremors of your body subsiding. The chat had moved on to the next act of the show—asking for more, demanding more. You knew you had to give it to them. After all, they were the ones keeping you afloat.

You leaned back on the bed, the plush pillows enveloping you in a soft embrace as you caught your breath. The toy lay discarded beside you—a symbol of the power they had over you. You picked it up, the sticky residue of your climax making your hand cling to it.

Mr.WhiteCoat: That was just a warm-up, PixelBunny. Focus. I can see that you are quite distracted.

R.tist!c: show us what you can really do

Syl.Draconia: More, pet. 

C.Pilot: good girl. keep going.

The messages were a blur—each one a reminder that you were not just a girl in a tiny apartment, but a goddess in a digital world where you held all the power. But outside, in the real world, you were just a café worker with a secret.

X-Devoted: U are so beautiful, Pixel

Oh god.

Your digital nickname. The same nickname you were flashing back at your café shift. The very nickname that was written on your name tag, which was Xavier had stared at too long in the cafe’s counter today.

For god’s sake, it’s NOT him! Stop worrying.

"I-I need a break, Daddies," you whispered to the camera, trying to keep your lilt light and playful despite the tightness in your throat. "Just a little bit. Bunny will be right back."

The chat was a mix of whines and understanding nods. They knew you needed to recharge, to sip from the chalice of your own reality. 

You slid off the bed, the skirt riding up and leaving you exposed in a way that made you feel both vulnerable and thrilled. The cold air kissed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the chilly temperature of your room.

You padded over to the kitchen, the plush carpet silent under your bare feet. The fridge hummed—a comforting sound that was the background noise of your life outside of PixelBunny. You grabbed a bottle of water, twisting off the cap with trembling hands. 

The condensation felt like a lifeline to reality, a reminder that you weren't just a body for their pleasure. You took a sip, the cool liquid soothing the dryness of your throat.

Leaning against the counter, you let the weight of the day—of Xavier’s gaze and the mysterious note—settle on your shoulders. The stream was a respite, a place where you could control the narrative, but it was becoming harder to ignore the threads connecting your two lives. 

You stared into the darkness outside the kitchen window, wondering if Xavier was really out there, watching.

When you returned to the bed, the chat had moved on. They were discussing the latest trends, some were sharing memes, and sending more tips than ever before. It was as if the break had only served to stoke the fires of their lust. 

You took a deep breath and climbed back onto the bed, picking up your persona like a well-worn costume.

"I'm back," you trilled into the microphone, the sound echoing in the quiet of the night. "And I brought something extra special." You held up a bottle of cum lube that Lilith had given you as a freebie this evening, the white bottle catching the light from the ring. "Someone's going to get very full tonight."

The chat exploded with excitement. 

Mr. WhiteCoat tipped 1500 credits: There you are, PixelBunny.

R.tist!c: what brand is that bunny ill mix it with my paints

Syl.Draconia tipped 3000 credits: Youre giving me ideas what to send you next Bunny. 

C.Pilot: I've missed you baby

X-Devoted: Ur naughty as ever, Pixel

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. Tonight was about them, not your paranoia. You were PixelBunny, and PixelBunny didn’t get scared by strange customers at her day job. PixelBunny didn’t get nervous about someone knowing her secrets.

The stream picked up again, your voice steady and sweet. You slipped back into your digital skin like a glove, the fear and doubt of the day peeling away to reveal the bratty, flirty veneer that made men drop their wallets. The camera was your shield, the lens a barrier between the real world and the fantasy you spun.

"Well, well, well," you cooed, licking your lips like a kitten eyeing a bowl of cream. "My Daddies are being so generous tonight." You winked at the camera, your eyes sparkling with the kind of mischief that made men like X.Devoted, Mr. WhiteCoat, and the others crave more. "But which one of you Daddies is going to make me beg the prettiest?”

You squirted a dollop of the cum lube onto your fingers, the clear gel glistening in the soft light of your room. "This is for the Daddy who can make me scream the loudest," you whispered, stroking it over your clit, watching the chat light up with their eager replies.

Syl.Draconia tipped 3700 credits.

Syl.Draconia tipped 2000 credits.

Syl.Draconia tipped 1850 credits.

Syl.Draconia tipped 2000 credits.

Syl.Draconia tipped 3000 credits.

Syl.Draconia tipped 5000 credits.

Your heart skipped a beat as the message from Syl.Draconia filled the chat. His series of ludicrous tips had hit you like a thunderclap. It wasn't the first time he did such a thing. It was just you only received huge tips from him during private streams—whether with the other four VIPs or during one-on-one sessions. 

With him in the best mood, you wouldn’t know which would reach climax first—your or your stream’s credit quota.

“Oh my god, Daddy Syl!” You dramatically moaned, rolling your eyes for more effect. “Oh Daddy, you’re as generous as always.”

Syl.Draconia: My apologies. My pet landed on the keyboard. 

Syl.Draconia: But go on. Strip for us Bunny. Show us your treasure.

C.Pilot: show off. nobody cares about your stupid pet.

R.tist!c: whoever you are i thank you in behalf of my muse

Mr. WhiteCoat: Think of it as a fund for your new costumes, PixelBunny.

The room grew hotter, the air thick with anticipation as you read the message out loud, your voice dripping with faux reluctance. You knew the drill—the more you resisted, the more they’d want to see. With a dramatic sigh, you began to peel off your costume, the fabric clinging to your sweat-slicked skin.

Mr. WhiteCoat: Slower, darling. I want to savor it.

X-Devoted: Yes, let us see all of u

The tips continued to pour in as you stripped away the last of your clothing, leaving you bare and exposed to the hungry gaze of your viewers. The coolness of the room washed over your naked skin, a stark contrast to the heat in your cheeks. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but the thrill of it all was intoxicating.

You straddled the pink gaming chair, your legs spread wide for the camera. The cold leather bit into your thighs, sending a shiver through your body that was met with a chorus of approval from the chat. The cum lube felt sticky on your skin, a constant reminder of the performance you were putting on. 

You began to rub your clit in slow, deliberate circles, watching the numbers climb higher and higher with every pass of your fingers.

R.tist!c: yes just like that

Syl.Draconia: Spread wider I want to see everything.

C.Pilot: you’re so perfect Bun. I wanna suck on that clit.

Their words were like a symphony, each note hitting just the right spot to make you feel wanted, needed, desired. You leaned back, arching your spine as the pleasure began to build again. The camera captured every shiver, every gasp, every drop of sweat that trickled down your body.

Mr. WhiteCoat: So, so pretty.

X-Devoted: Ure mine Pixel

The chat grew more frenzied, the tips coming in so fast they were a blur on the screen. You could feel their eyes on you, their hands moving in sync with yours. You were theirs, and they were yours. The power was intoxicating, but the fear of Xavier’s knowing gaze lingered in the back of your mind like a shadow.

You reached for the dildo you had set aside earlier, a thick, realistic toy that was a favorite among your patrons. The coldness of it against your skin made you gasp, the sound echoing in the silent room. You lubed it up, the sticky gel mixing with the sweat between your legs, and slid it inside you, the stretch sending a bolt of pleasure through your overstimulated cunt.

The chat erupted into a cacophony of moans and demands, each patron trying to outdo the last. You lost yourself in the rhythm, the plastic filling you up, the vibrations of the toy still humming against your swollen clit. The fear of Xavier slipped away, drowned out by the need to satisfy the men who had come to expect your undivided attention.

Mr. WhiteCoat: Take it all, my little slut.

R.tist!c: oh baby youre going to make me cum on my easel

Syl.Draconia: Look at all that cum lube. Imagine its my cum filling you up Bunny.

C.Pilot: that’s it, baby. take it like a good girl.

You threw your head back, letting the pleasure take over. The room spun around you, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that blurred into one overwhelming crescendo. You were PixelBunny, the queen of your domain, and they were your devoted subjects.

The dildo slammed into you, the force of your hips meeting it with each thrust. Gaming chair creaked in protest, creating a salacious symphony along with the wet squelch of the phallic toy. The camera captured every drop of sweat, every twitch of your body as you approached the edge. 

The chat was a flurry of messages, each one more demanding than the last. But it was X-Devoted’s message that made your heart race.

X-Devoted: Whos watching u, Pixel? Whos making u feel this good

You bit your bottom lip, trying to ignore the question that seemed to hang in the air, thick with the scent of your arousal and lingering anxiety. You didn’t know if he was just playing along or if he truly knew. The doubt was like a snake coiling in your stomach, tightening with each breath you took.

Mr. WhiteCoat tipped 2000 credits. 

R.tist!c tipped 1500 credits.

Syl.Draconia tipped 3000 credits. 

C.Pilot tipped 2500 credits.

The tips were like a siren’s call, luring you closer to the precipice. Your breaths grew shallower, your movements more erratic as the climax approached. The toy was a part of you now, an extension of their desire that you wielded with precision.

R.tist!c: fuck bunny i can almost feel you around me

Syl.Draconia: I want to bury my face in you, taste you.

C.Pilot: you’re going to make me go over my limit again.

Their words were like a drug, a sweet poison that fueled your performance. You knew you were close—so close that you could almost taste it.

But it was the silence from X-Devoted that had you second-guessing everything. Still, the show must go on.

“Oh god! Yes, yes! Daddy, I’m gonna cum!” 

With a final, desperate push, you came hard. Your cunt spasming around the plastic cock as your juices created a frothy mixture with the cum lube. 

The orgasm was like a hurricane, a force of nature that swept through you, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. Thick, frothy liquid sluiced down to your thighs, until it pooled on the chair—coating the dildo’s shaft and balls as if it was a real cock showered with cum post-climax.

The chat erupted with digital applause, but all you could focus on was the empty space where X-Devoted’s name should have been.

You stood up and collapsed back onto the bed, the toy slipping from your grip to land with a wet thud on the floor. The room was still spinning, the echo of your own moans ringing in your ears. You felt exposed, raw, and more alone than ever before. The thrill of the performance had been replaced by a cold, hard reality.

The chat grew quiet, the tips slowing to a trickle as your patrons retreated to their own corners of the internet. You laid there, the sticky lube drying on your skin, the coldness of the room a stark contrast to the heat of your performance.

Syl.Draconia tipped 1500 credits: That was spectacular my sweet Bunny. 

C.Pilot: made me cum so hard on my screen. as expected of my girl.

R.tist!c: damn bunny you made me forgot to tell you i sent you a gift today

R.tistic: its a surprise tho

Mr. WhiteCoat: Don't forget to hydrate, PixelBunny. Get some good rest.

You knew you had to end the stream, to pull the curtains closed on the part of you that was PixelBunny. But as you reached for the desktop, the fear of Xavier’s knowing gaze crept back in. What if he had been watching? What if he knew?

With a trembling hand, you typed out a quick goodbye, the keys sticky with the mixture of your cum and the lube.

"Thank you, Daddies. Don't forget to visit my wishlist!" You giggled, trying to keep the tremor from your voice as you ended the stream.

The room felt eerily empty without the glow of the camera, and the sudden silence was deafening. You lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath, the aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing through your body.

As you gathered your discarded clothing and the now-silent toys, X-Devoted’s message echoed in your mind. It was his usual sign-off, but today it felt loaded with meaning. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew something—that he was watching you closer than ever before.

The DMs from X-Devoted popped up on your screen, a stark contrast to the quiet emptiness of your room. 

X-Devoted: Lately, Ive been busy with work and visit cafés to unwind when I have the time. I tried normal ones, a cat cafe, maid cafés, they were all cute and pastel. They reminded me of u

X-Devoted: But Uve done maid costumes already

X-Devoted: …I am thinking maybe U could try barista roleplay some time. Ill send you outfits soon when I have them

Your stomach twisted into a knot at the proposal. The line between your stream persona and your real-life job had always been clear, but now it felt like it was blurring, as if he had reached through the screen and grabbed a piece of you to pull into his own twisted game. 

The thought of playing out a scene that mirrored your everyday life for their entertainment made you feel sick.

But you had to respond. You had to keep up the act. 

You typed back with forced enthusiasm, "Oooh, Daddy, you know I love a good roleplay! And thank you in advance for the outfit! ♡" 

But as you hit send, your heart raced, and your palms grew slick with sweat. The idea of bringing your café job into the stream was terrifying—it was your sanctuary, your escape from PixelBunny.

You couldn’t let them take that from you too. The thought of them watching you, knowing who you really were, was too much to bear. 

You had to find a way to regain control.

To keep your two lives separate.

But as you laid there, the direct messages from your other patrons continued to flood in, each one a gentle reminder of their devoted obsession. Mr. WhiteCoat's concern for your well-being—it was as if he could sense the shift in the air, the panic that X-Devoted had brought to the surface; R.tistic’s flirty compliments, and Syl.Draconia's possessive tips. 

They were all a part of the same web, the same shadowy world that had grown more tangible with every passing day.

And then there was C.Pilot whose sweetness had always been tinged with something darker. His messages had been more intense tonight, more competitive and parasocial. 

The weight of it all became too much, and you couldn’t help but spiral. Your thoughts raced, your breathing grew shallow. 

Who were they, really? How much of your life had they infiltrated? Was there any part of you that wasn’t theirs to command?

The room grew smaller, the walls closing in as you stared at the ceiling, your heart hammering in your chest. The siren call of your next paycheck, the thrill of their attention, the fear of discovery—it was all too much.

You curled into a ball, the coldness of the room seeping into your bones. The whispers of your patrons' voices, their kinks, and their desires swirled in your mind, a maelstrom of need and obsession that you had once found thrilling but now felt suffocating.

How did you let it get this far? How did you become a puppet in a show you didn’t write? You were the one in control—or so you thought. 

But now, as you lay there trembling, you couldn’t help but wonder if the real PixelBunny was the one being played.

The anxiety grew, a monster in the dark, feeding on your fear and doubt. The only thing keeping it at bay was the knowledge that you had a part to play in their twisted games. 

But even that was slipping—because if Xavier was X-Devoted, then your real life was about to collide with your digital one in a way you never could have anticipated.

The countdown to your next stream had already begun.

And there was nothing you could do to stop it. 

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