#let me know if i need to make any changes! :)

[inhogf]

thanos w/ a breeding kink.

contains: he pokes holes in ur condom. smut. a/n: i decided to change up my theme lmk if y'all fw it

thanos [choi su bong] can't shake the thought of you carrying his child. the image of you, round with his baby, bound to him forever. every time it crosses his thoughts, he finds himself biting the inside of his lip. it gets him sooo fucking hard.

he assures you he stopped by the drug store and grabbed a fresh pack of condoms—which was true. what he doesn’t mention is how he spent a solid ten minutes preparing. opening the box with practiced ease, carefully pressing a safety pin through the center of each rubber, three or four times, just to be sure.

he had to make sure you stayed off your birth control— had to make sure your body would start changing in just a few months. the thought of it consumed him, an obsession he couldn’t shake. he needed this. needed you. needed to know that no matter what, you’d be his forever and ever.

it was an asshole move, really.

thanos knew you'd never forget him, no matter how long he was away. he trusted you, loved you in ways he couldn't always put into words. but once the thought was planted, he couldn’t forget it. maybe deep down it was the fear you'd leave or just the desire to know that you were fully his, full with his child. it wasn't just desire— it was necessity. you wouldn't leave, couldn't leave, not when you'd be bound to him in the most permanent way possible. and once it happened? you'd understand. you'd see that this was always meant to be.

“awh, is my pretty baby all out of it?” he muses with a smug look on his face while he's rutting into you. he's got your knees pushed back as far as they'll go, and as that gasp slips out of you, he's right there, giggling in your face thinking of you all filled up with his babies.

it's so much intense than ever when he finally cums in your pulsing cunt, him wriggling your hips, rocking, as if he could get any deeper— but your cunt already latched around him snuggly, his tip bumping, dragging over your spongy spot with slow, languid rolls of hips.

thanos is letting himself go, thinking of getting you to swell up and to be tied to him for life. how your hips are gonna widen and make room for his baby. how your tits are gonna be huge and he can't stop thinking about squeezing and groping every pound you gain.

he's losing it. only calming down his breathing when he pulls out and sees the small amount of cum in the condom, knowing the rest of it is making its way into your womb. he stares down at your pussy, mesmerised by the sight of it dripping with his cum. he leans down, his face mere inches from it as his heated breath ghosts your folds. he watches, transfixed, as another thick spurt of his previous load oozes out of you. he's so impatient, he's already thinking of names.

“you're not going anywhere,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion. “not after this— fuck—.. you’re not leaving me… you can't—”

cr @inhogf don't steal

[lizsos]

One Of Them

warning: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, In-ho being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching (made up kid name) this does not take place in squid game!!

Genre: smut

Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Hwang going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.

From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Ji-ho .

When Ji-ho is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.

You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because In-ho is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You couldn't even stay inside anymore to get work done.

At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, Ji-ho coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.

You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.

Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”

Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.

The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn sweetheart?”

You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the hwang man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”

In-ho whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”

You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”

In-ho could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.

In-ho had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Hwang man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.

You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in you plus didn't want to be one of them.

Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Hwang In-go had become your fantasy.

And it was unbearable.

Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing In-ho’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.

It was Thursday, and Ji-ho would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.

You waited a minute, a shirtless In-ho emerging into the door frame as it flew open. In-ho smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.

“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“

You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, sweetheart.”

“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”

In-ho’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”

You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes . In-ho’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”

Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. In-ho smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.

In-ho was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.

You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Mr. Hwang— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”

“That’s not my name sweetheart, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “I-In-ho —” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as In-ho slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”

In-ho hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”

You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— M-Mr. Hwang,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when In-ho bullied his cock deeper into you.

“Still waiting sweetheart ” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.

“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”

“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, In-ho’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.

“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” In-ho grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”

You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”

“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on In-ho ’s cock.

“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.”In-ho’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.

“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. In-ho’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck sweetheart- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”

In-ho’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.

It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.

In-ho never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.

“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”

You let out a whine, In-ho flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.

A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.

He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”

You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as In-ho pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.

In-ho hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.

The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.

He wanted to make you his pretty little girl.

[inkabelledesigns]

Okay, I have never witnessed this on BlueSky. For the most part our art communities are pretty nice places to be, at least the ones I'm in for doll photography and Bendy fan art. But this person...oh boy. I have thoughts. I get wanting to encourage people to use alt text, but this is not the way to do it. If anything, telling people you're adding them to a blocklist for a failure to make the choice you wanted them to make is a surefire way to make someone not want to do what you're saying they should do. Like, we deal with enough public shaming in the world, why add to it? It doesn't produce meaningful change, it produces resentment and makes you look like an asshole.

If people aren't adding alt text to their posts, and you think they should be, the first question you should ask yourself is why. Why do they not use alt text? It could be any number of reasons, and I'm fairly confident most of them should not be taken in bad faith. Maybe they don't know what alt text is or how it works. Maybe they don't know what kinds of things should be included in alt text. Maybe there's a limitation regarding time or internet connection, or there's a physical or mental disability in the mix. Maybe they don't know where to start in researching the topic and are paralyzed/intimidated. Because goodness knows, some parts of the internet can be cruel and unforgiving when you make mistakes, and it's impossible to learn things without making mistakes. Maybe it's any number of other things that you're simply not privy to that may be none of your business.

If your goal is truly to make the world a more inclusive and accessible place, then why not make some posts talking about how to effectively use the alt text feature? Make a guide for people that's easy and intuitive to use! Why not offer to help someone learn how to do it one on one? There are literally so many choices you could make to help people learn a new skill, and you chose to shame them and prey on their insecurities instead. That's uncool. That tells me this isn't about accessibility so much as it is controlling others, and I'm not into that.

For the people who are actually into accessibility, if you have any suggestions or resources for how to write alt text effectively, I would love to learn from you! This is something I'm inexperienced with. I know that the details I think are important in an image or art piece may not be the stuff other people need in their experience, and finding the balance to actually be inclusive and thoughtful of the people who would use this feature is something I could use some help with. Let's be productive and actually learn something.

observations

[dyingswanpavlova]

Treasure

Pairing: Hwang In-ho/The Frontman × Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Smut, Age Gap (Reader is 25, In-ho is 54), Usage of Daddy, Mentions of Emotional Abuse in the Past, Low Self-Esteem, Sex as a Business Deal, Edging, Spanking, Overstimulation, Face Slapping, Oral Sex (Both receiving), Gagging, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Minors do not interact!

Author's note: It's mostly bad experiences and smut. Anyone who knows me, knows I can't do wholesome...But, you guys, I'm trying!

It has been quite a while since his wife died and he hasn't gotten over it. But now he found someone who brings out a softer side of him...or makes him feel anything at all. Even if it's just the fact that he doesn't have to dine and sleep alone.

The day of her death was always the worst.

Of course he was always cold. One might even muster up the courage to call it cruel.

He was a complicated man in any sense of the word. While he was as cunning as he was handsome, he was also cool and composed. He didn’t ever lose that tight composure, until he allowed himself to. There were only few situations that allowed him to let loose and unleash the beast that lived within him.

It was rather obvious that there was more to him. The way he carried himself made it seem like he was no more than the stoic business man, but sometimes, sometimes you caught a soft glimpse of whatever was underneath. The way his eyes shone in a certain light.

 His brother was enough.

His wife, of course.

 But you were clever. And your sense of self-preservation forbade you to pry. All you had to do was do your job. And what was your job?

You found yourself applying a drop of perfume to your neck and your wrists, staring at your form in the mirror. The black lace covered most of your intimate parts, but it was just enough to leave him yearning for more. He liked that especially – when he had to use his imagination.

But sometimes, on rare occasions like that night, he needed more. He needed a little, naughty dream, to distract him from the turmoil that raged within him.

He was never cruel to you. He was just cold.

It wasn’t like you minded. So far, you had heard all kinds of things from a few friends of yours. Men could be vile creatures, who performed the most heinous crimes, whenever they felt like it. You were sure you could call yourself lucky, when it came to that.

He was older, that was out of question. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not for you anyway.

You couldn’t tell when that started or what the exact reason was.

Your father had been a fairly good man. He never abused you and never hurt you out of the ordinary. The occasional session of spanking was something that stopped once you got older. Of course a child that steps out of line will get punished. It’s not that dramatic and you were sure, you took no damage after that.

He had been a kind man. Good-hearted. He loved you, your sister and your mother very much.

Until he got drunk.

Of course, he loved you then as well. And he never hit you then, either. Not you.

Your mother, sure. The poor, sweet woman she was. Her broken spirit cracked through the light in which her soul was covered, because she was strong like that. Gentle, but strong.

He wasn’t gentle when he drank. No, all you had to do was say the wrong thing at the wrong time and suddenly he’d explode. The way he yelled out of nowhere was the worst thing. The way he gritted his teeth like a wild animal.

You had flinched more than once during the course of your life, simply because he got so angry.

But after a while, he always calmed down, didn’t he? He came down from his demonic horror trip and suddenly, he was good again.

Of course he was proud. Too proud for anyone’s good. His pride often kept him from apologizing. In most cases, he’d just try and act like nothing changed, like nothing happened, like he didn’t just made the walls crumble with his anger.

But sometimes, when he went really overboard, he managed to swallow his pride and then he would apologize. A hug, a kiss, and everything was back to normal.

You forgave him. Why wouldn’t you? He was your father. He loved you.

But daddy issues? No. He was there, after all. He didn’t abuse you. Didn’t hit you.

You had no issues. Why would you?

Right?

You finished applying the perfume and decided to put on some lip balm. It held the faintest hint of rose-color. He didn’t like too much make-up. He didn’t like anything that felt like you were playing dress-up. The silk on your body, it only made sense if it highlighted your character in a way. Not change it.

The gloss on your lips, the blush on your cheeks. No eyeshadow allowed, unless it were natural colors. Mascara was alright, but no fake lashes.

Blush was okay, contour was not.

Lace was okay, leather was not.

J’adore was okay, Chanel Number 5 was not.

You released a slow breath and took a moment longer to check your appearance.

You were pretty, you knew that. Probably not in the way that made you get voted prom queen. More in the way that made weird men ogle you.

That was a talent of yours you had figured out at some point. Your eyes were expressive. And people loved to eye-fuck you.

Sometimes, you’d indulge. It depended on the man and the situation. It depended on the way his eyes on you made you feel.

Not any man would do. Some were perverts, some were disgusting, some desperate. You didn’t look back, when a man walked beside his oblivious wife and looked at you like he was ready to devour you. You also didn’t look back, when a man stared at you with wide eyes and licked his lip in a way that was too lecherous at once.

A subtle glance.

Not even a smile.

Just a look.

You’d look away and after a while, you’d check again. The feeling that spread in your chest was often the same. One of recognition, of attention. It made you feel pretty and desired. Someone wanted you. They were subtle about it, but not subtle enough to refrain themselves from staring.

In most cases, it didn’t lead to anything.

Sure, you had that messed-up phase, after you turned nineteen. Looking back, you really wished your father had been stricter with you. You were always allowed to do whatever you wanted. Meet who you want, do what you want, unless, of course, it got dark outside. No walking alone in the dark.

But he never checked who you were with, if you were truly where you said you were. Your parents trusted you. Back in the day, when you told them you had already finished your homework, they trusted you. Your bad grades weren’t their fault. They had trusted you to do better.

Back when you were nineteen, when you told them you were at the cinema with a few friends, they trusted you. They didn’t check, if maybe you were getting pounded away by some forty-seven year old man, who came on your face and left you feeling used and humiliated.

Never during. Always after.

You had no idea why you felt like you needed this so badly. Attention of men. Approval of men.

Men.

They were never good to you. They used you in most cases and then they’d just up and leave.

First, you were naïve. You pictured all kinds of things. Your mother’s Italian friend, who’d take you to Rome and buy you gelato. You’d walk some coast and he’d show you the lovely way Italians lived. He’d love you, you were sure.

It didn’t matter than he had a daughter your age or maybe even a few years older.

He’d love you.

But of course, he didn’t. Silly you, you really believed that, didn’t you? And he didn’t even say he would. You just made up that version of him in your head.

Some sweet guy from Oregon, who sang Arctic Monkeys song for you with his guitar. You only spoke online, but why care? You’d go and live the American dream with him. Of course you would. He had those soft, brown eyes and the voice of an angel.

You’d give him as many babies as he wanted.

So, of course you agreed, when he asked you to take your top off. Suck on your fingers, look up at the camera with doe eyes, while you did. You slipped two fingers inside yourself, moaning and gasping. Of course you were pretending. Who got off on this? Not you. All he did was stare at you. You didn’t see his face, while he pulled his pants down. It was either his face or the rest of him. But you were looking at him, while you touched yourself for him. It didn’t take him long to cum. But that was alright. You’d get married, after all. In some cases, long distance worked. This was one of them of course.

Blocked.

You spent months trying to find him again. But no way. He was gone, deleted, lost in the depths of the internet. A lost memory. A shameful one.

Sometimes you asked yourself, why your sister turned out normal. She had a job, a family, a husband who loved her. Or did he?

He did get angry, at times. And those few times when he called her a slut, when they argued. It wasn’t that bad, right?

That one time he left her standing at the sidewalk in the middle of the night, in a foreign city. It wasn’t that bad, right? She had angered him after all.

You felt nauseous, just thinking about it. Your sister was the epitome of life and liveliness. She was so spirited, that sometimes her anger scared you. Her confidence did for sure. She was your father’s daughter after all.

But the bastard she married broke that spirit.

And she didn’t even realize it. She just let it happen. You didn’t understand it.

But what you did understand was that she wasn’t as perfect as you always thought. Things were a little more complicated than you initially thought. But you were still far behind her.

You tried to push the thoughts of your messed-up existence and upbringing aside and focus on the task at hand.

Him.

Mr. Important.

You knew his real name and he knew yours, but names didn’t really matter. All you normally called him was daddy.

But luckily, you weren’t babygirl or little girl. That felt odd, even to you. It wasn’t that he was after that – someone who was remarkably younger than him. You just happened to be.

He was fifty-four, going fifty-five. You were twenty-five, going twenty-six.

Thirty years more or less, who cared about that?

And he didn’t really look his age. You found, he looked a good forty-six, maybe.

But aside from that, he was different. The were two kind of men in the world.

The real ones and the made up ones.

The ones who ogled you, while they were walking beside their wives and the ones who never got over their wife’s death and were looking for a way to distract themselves.

You had seen a picture of her. He didn’t make a secret of it. No, he was proud to having loved her. The thought filled you with something bittersweet. A part of you was jealous. Jealous, that someone got loved so intensely, that she’d never be forgotten, ever.

After all, she died young and pregnant. It made you nauseous.

And another part of you, the far bigger part, the less selfish part, it admired him.

He loved her. He loved her so dearly, that she took a great part of his soul with him, when she left.

God, you wished to be loved like that. To be loved at all.

You remembered the way you first met him. The subtle eye-contact. No smile.

But you didn’t feel like you normally did. Something about him was different. He wasn’t lecherous. He was calm. Almost like he was…lonely.

And he understood your loneliness.

The arrangement came quick and without any fuss. He did pay you, but not with money per say. He paid for your studies, he bought you gifts, sometimes he took you out to places you had never been before.

The theatre. The ballet. The opera, even.

That was what you loved the most. He didn’t just use you and left you feeling empty. He didn’t even fuck you every time you saw him. Sometimes you’d just go out. Have dinner. Talk.

You talked a lot and about everything. Sometimes you felt like you were an old soul, sometimes you felt like you knew nothing at all. He knew things. He looked at you. He listened to you.

Sometimes he could be really funny. On other nights he was rather quiet.

You didn’t care if he absentmindedly played with your hand or hair or if he stared straight ahead. Whatever he did, it always made your heart race.

You understood that you were treading on very thin ice.

Feelings were not a part of the arrangement.

He would never love you. You would never be more to him than treasure.

But when you lay there, your head on his chest and still breathless after you just spent hours doing the most wicked things to each other, you couldn’t help yourself. You craved his warmth. His arms around you and how protected he made you feel.

You couldn’t make a mistake. Nothing you did ever made him yell at you.

And that was rather dangerous.

Because you could picture it so easily. Being his wife. His everything. Having his children. Cooking his dinner. Doing all the things loving people did.

All the things loved people did.

You pushed the thought aside with intense fervor, when you heard his raspy voice call out for you.

“Treasure? Are you alright?”

You nearly gasped when you realized how long you had been in there. With a soft shake of your head and a slow exhale, you pushed down the door handle and stepped out of the bathroom. He stood in front of the fireplace and stared down at the flames, lost in thought. When he heard the door open, he looked up and met your gaze. Something in him stiffened for a moment and his gaze ran down your body slowly. You swallowed thickly and tried to push your nervousness aside.

You wanted to be perfect for him. But you were so far from perfect. Each and every time you feared he would look at you, scoff and shake his head.

“I don’t remember that much skin.”

“You looked younger last time.”

“Where’d that wrinkle come from?”

But of course he never said anything like that. Simply your insecurities, giving you a hard time.

He hummed softly and shifted so that he was fully facing you.

“You look beautiful.” He murmured. “Come here.”

You approached him with slow steps, the sound of your tiptoes the only sound beside the crackling of the fireplace.

You came to a halt before him and he tipped your chin up in a gentle way, slowly tilting your head up and making you look at him. He brushed his lips over yours in the softest way, making you shiver in response.

His hand slowly ran down the side of your neck, until his fingers brushed over the lace that covered your collarbone. His eyes followed the movement and he released a soft sigh.

“You get more and more beautiful every day.”

How did he expect you not to fall in love with him, when he was being like this?

“Thank you.” You whispered in return and swallowed a bit of your nervousness.

His eyes crinkled in a smile that hardly reached his eyes and his hands slowly came down to grip your hips.

“You know what day today is?”

You nodded.

“Good.” He whispered and dropped his hands to his sides. “Then be a good girl for daddy and distract him.”

You licked your lips and slowly pushed him back. He was letting you. Until you reached the armchair and he slowly sat down on it. You stood before him and tipped his chin up, making him look up at you now. The look in his eyes was nothing short of admiration. His breath against your skin sent a pleasant tingle down your spine.

You slowly straddled his lap and rested your knees on the armrests, pressing yourself against him and feeling the hardness in his pants press into you already. But not yet, you thought. Why not tease him a little?

You leaned in as if to kiss him, but the second before your lips met, you slowly pulled your head back, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

A low growl grumbled in his chest. “Stop being a brat.” He murmured.

You bit your lip and leaned back with a grin. “Me? A brat?”

“You’re just asking to be punished.”

That made you chuckle. “Well…”

“Oh, I see.” He tangled a hand in your hair and tugged on it, tilting your head back and making you look up at him. “That’s how you want to play?” He murmured and his hot breath fanned over your lips and neck. “Alright, then. I invented this game, little dove.”

He released his grip on your hair and grabbed you by the hips, standing up and holding you against him. He picked you up like you weighed nothing and strode off to the bed, practically throwing you down onto it. The sudden intensity left you breathless and you looked up at him with wide eyes. He reached for his tie and slowly undid it.

“I thought you were daddy’s good girl. Looks like I was wrong.”

He sounded as calm as ever, not a hint of anger as usual. He was just being himself.

“I am your good girl.”

“I’d prefer you to be bad right now. Because I feel like punishing you.”

You swallowed thickly and bit your lip, like you did every so often when he got you cornered like this.

“How?” You whispered.

He smirked in that delicious way, which lit his whole face up without even trying. Then he slowly pulled the tie off and ran his fingers along the soft material.

“Turn around.”

Within seconds, you were on your knees and facing away from him. His hands were gentle as he reached for your wrists and brought them behind your back to tie them together. You took a slow breath and closed your eyes, while your body surrendered. It wasn’t hard for you. You trusted him. He knew your boundaries.

For whatever reason, with him you had boundaries.

Never in your life before had you ever told anyone to stop or not do something. Was it fear of being rejected? Simply fear? Something else? Whatever it was, it kept you from setting healthy rules to keep your body and mind safe. You were free to use. Anyone just did whatever they wanted.

Sometimes you did protest, but they wouldn’t stop and eventually you gave in.

But not so him.

He had asked not once, not twice, but countless times. Until eventually you had been forced to be honest and tell him what it was that threw you off. And to your surprise, he didn’t get angry, didn’t even move a muscle. He just nodded and accepted it.

There were a few freaky things you were into and you were obviously allowing him to do. But if there was something that you didn’t want, he didn’t do it. Just like that.

How hard it was not to fall for him. Impossible even.

He tied your wrists together fairly tight and made a point of pulling on the tie to make sure it was good enough. You felt his gaze roam along your back silently. He then ran his fingertips up your back, over your shoulder blades and eventually the back of your neck.

“You’re my little brat, aren’t you?” He purred.

When you didn’t respond at first, he made a point of gently tugging on your hair.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“And you’ve been bad, haven’t you?”

When you nodded, he tugged again, slightly harder this time. You gasped and immediately added: “Yes. Yes, I’ve been bad.”

“So, you deserve to be punished. How should I punish you?”

There was only one right answer to that.

“However you wish.”

You heard the way he smirked. “Good girl. You’re learning.”

He hummed and slowly circled you like a predator. Of course you felt rather exposed, kneeling on the bed like that, wearing nothing but that thin piece of lace and nothing to cover the dampness between your legs.

“Look at you.” He murmured. “So open and ready for me. Let’s see how ready, shall we?”

He didn’t hesitate to slide his hand between your legs and run a finger over your wetness. You couldn’t help but inhale sharply. Your body was aching for his touch.

Surprisingly, he knew how to make you cum. Pretty good even. No other man had ever accomplished that. You’d normally count only on yourself for that, but Mr. Important? Fuck, he was skilled.

He circled your clit in the same skilled way, causing you to squirm and gasp under his touch. He began to work his fingers on you more and more quickly, keeping his gaze firmly on your face. Your brows furrowed in a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment, but you didn’t care. You were so close. So close. So-

You whimpered when he sharply withdrew his hand, leaving you aching.

“Please-“ You whined.

“Not yet.” He said calmly. “Open your mouth.”

You obeyed wordlessly, allowing him to slide his slick fingers into your mouth and making you taste yourself on him. The bulge in his pants became more and more obvious and it did things to you. The way he looked at you, while he made you suck on his fingers was enough to make you go dripping wet. After a beat, he slowly pulled his fingers back and dried them against his shirt. You let out a shuddering gasp.

“You still ought to be punished, if I recall correctly.”

“Wasn’t this punishment enough?” You whispered.

He smirked. “Not even close.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently draped you over his lap, stomach down and your rear up in the air. Your cheek was pressed against the sheets and you closed your eyes.

“Ten. You know the rules.” He murmured and you nodded.

His flat hand cracked against your skin, sending a sharp pain through your body. He wasn’t gentle about that. Not at all.

You cried out in pain and tried not to squirm too much. “One. Thank you, daddy.” You gasped out.

He hummed approvingly, before his hand came down a second time, causing you to wince and cry out again. Somehow, every strike seemed to get more and more rough. Your skin felt raw and sensitive, more and more with every hit, but you forced yourself to stay still and count, like a good girl. By the time you reached the seventh hit, the pain was nearly unbearable. But you knew better than to beg and plead. It only turned him on more and he was ready and eager to start anew.

“Nine. Thank you, daddy.”

“One more. Just one more, treasure. You’re almost done.”

He deliberately waited for a few seconds, causing you to go rigid and tense in his grip. The uncertainty of when the next hit would follow was nearly killing you. Just when you expected it and you winced forcefully, he instead ran his palm along your red skin gently. You took a deep breath.

And then it came.

The most painful of them all and you immediately felt tears sting your eyes. Your voice cracked as you cried out: “T-ten. Ten. Thank you. Thank you, daddy.”

He made a soft sound, filled with approval and a hint of pride. “That’s my good girl. You did so well. I’m proud of you.”

His words made you feel warm and fuzzy and suddenly you felt like crying even more. Your feelings for him were more complicated than you thought.

“Thank you.” You whispered, still trying to catch your breath.

“I think you deserve a reward.” He murmured.

You tried to swallow, with your mouth dry and whispered: “I do?”

He ran a gentle hand over your hair and hummed again.

“You do. Let’s see what we can do for you.” He shifted you gently so you lay on the mattress instead, staring up at him with red-rimmed eyes. He ran his knuckles over your cheek and smiled slowly.

“Was it too much?”

You shook your head.

He took a slow breath and nodded. “Good.” He shifted so he was on top of you now and pressed a leg between your own. His knee slowly pressed against your core and you felt your eyes fall shut. You didn’t try to hide your pathetic whimper.

He smirked against your ear and gently nipped at it. “Look at that. Have you been this wet all the time?”

Your face flushed painfully and you swallowed your embarrassment. “Yes.”

He hummed approvingly and ran his lips along your cheek, before they finally met your own. You had no time to understand what was going on, when his tongue already parted your lips and delved into your mouth. He wasn’t sweet about it, instead your tongues met in a messy battle, ready to prod at and devour each other.

“What are you?” He groaned against your lips.

“Your cumslut.” You whispered back.

He groaned again and bit down on your lower lip. “Fuck, yes, my dirty little cumslut. You want daddy’s cum, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.” You moaned out.

“Where do you want it, treasure? Dripping down your chin or deep inside you?”

Your eyes nearly rolled back. “Wherever you want.”

He pulled back just enough to kiss your neck. His kisses made you squirm and shudder, but it only ever got more and more intense. You felt so exposed and helpless, but also cared for.

He slowly moved his lips along your collarbone, before they brushed over the material that covered your breasts. He bit down on it and tore at until you felt the cold air hit your now exposed chest. He growled in response and didn’t hesitate to kiss and suck at the skin of your breast. Your hips involuntarily arched against his knee, which was still working on your core. You gasped breathlessly and rubbed yourself against him, desperate for more friction.

“Please-“

“Patience.”

He licked a wet path down your stomach, causing you to writhe and moan.

He wasn’t one for half things. When his lips reached your core, he wasn’t gentle or careful. No, his mouth enveloped your most sensitive spot and he began to work his tongue on you almost furiously. He sucked and licked, slid his tongue inside you and over your wet folds with an intensity that made you cry out. He then sucked on your clit in a way that was almost too much, but just right to make you cum so good that you felt like everything around you faded into nothingness. You felt warm and good, better than you had ever before. He took his time and made the moment last, riding out your release so intensely that you nearly had to pull away from him when it became to much. He smirked up at you and slowly came back up to face you. He was fighting for air, as were you.

“Oh God, that was-“

He pushed his tongue back inside your mouth, nearly fucking it. At the same time he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them torturously and pumping them against you in a way that brought you close yet again.

“P-Please, I- Ah!” Your release rolled over you again, hard and soft at the same time, with an intensity that was near painful. Your hips arched off the bed and you nearly screamed by the way you couldn’t find it in you to shut your mouth.

You gasped for air and expected him to finally pull back, but he didn’t. He kept curling his fingers against your sweet spot and the feeling quickly became too much. Your body was so sensitive and every new touch he added felt almost painful.

“Stop- Please- St-“ You cried out and pressed your hips against his hand involuntarily. Your release came crashing yet again, this time it was a feeling between heaven and hell. It still felt good, but it felt far too much.

“Please.” You gasped, before the feeling even was gone. “Please. I can’t take any more…”

He smirked against your lips and gently bit down on the lower one, before he slowly withdrew his hand.

“Good girl.”

You were still panting and gasping for air, when he gave your cheek a light slap. “Time for you to get to work.”

You moaned, and with some effort, fought your way to get up. Your hands were still tied, so you carefully slid down to your knees, kneeling in between his legs. He was still in his pants, so you looked up at him with innocent eyes and whispered: “Can you help me?”

He smirked again and gently cupped your cheek in his hand. “So obedient.”

He freed himself from his remaining clothes and you found yourself staring at him. Despite his age, he was so well-built and you were always desperate for every glimpse, every touch and every taste.

“Can I?” You breathed out.

He hummed and nodded. “Get to it.”

Your gaze wandered down, but he quickly caught your chin. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Your insides tingled with newfound desire. You forced yourself to keep looking at him, while your tongue slowly slid down his stomach. You saw the shift in demeanor. He was still dominant and calm, but his breathing sped up and something changed in his eyes.

“No teasing today.” He all but growled. “Let me feel that pretty mouth.”

You didn’t hesitate to obey. You parted your lips and ran your tongue over his tip. His head fell and back and he groaned. He then tangled his hand in your hair and guided your movements. He didn’t give you time to catch your breath, he just pushed you down and forced you to take him in. You were caught off-guard for a moment and felt yourself gag. He loosened his grip the tiniest bit and you began to move in the rhythm and pace that he set for you. He quickly went from calm and collected to a beast which rammed his thick cock into you and began to use your throat to his pleasure.

You felt yourself grow wet yet again as you moaned against his skin. Whenever he seemed to hit the back of your throat, he couldn’t control the low moans and groans that left his lips. Your movements became more and more frantic, determined to make him feel just as good as he had you.

Of course you wanted him to fuck you and he probably would in an hour or two. And again and again and again…But right then, you wanted nothing more than for him to shoot his hot load into your mouth and down your throat.

You sucked and flicked your tongue against him in a way that made his grip tighten more and more until he-

He went still, except for his cock, which was throbbing furiously inside you. He came with a low growl and he filled your mouth with his seed. He held your head in place, until he rode out his release. When he finally caught his breath back, he released a soft sigh and his grip on your hair became gentle again.

“Oh God, that was…” He sighed again. “Fuck.”

You slowly swallowed every drop of his cum, all the while never taking your eyes off him. His eyes instantly darkened again and he ran his thumb over your tongue.

“My good girl. My treasure.” He breathed out. “I’m so proud of you.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch. It became increasingly gentle and he slowly cupped your cheek in his hand.

“That was incredible.” He murmured. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He reached behind you and carefully freed your from his tie. Then he slowly rubbed his thumbs over your sore wrists.

“Does it hurt?” He murmured. You shook your head.

He pulled you up onto the bed again and gently laid you down beside him. He stared down at you for a long moment, before he finally rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes.

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a full-course meal right now.”

You chuckled and wrapped your arms around him, slowly running your hands down his back. “Isn’t that what you just gave me?”

He smirked and slowly opened his eyes. “You and that wicked mouth of yours.” He murmured.

Your smile softened when he pressed a lingering kiss against your forehead.

“Can I stay for the night?”

He would most likely let you. He never sent you away feeling used or unsatisfied or, God forbid, unwanted. But there was a part of you that needed to be reassured so badly. And he seemed to know.

He raised a brow and his own expression softened.

“Did you expect anything else?”

His coldness melted away whenever you were like this, entangled and breathless.

No matter how many times he said that it didn’t mean anything.

His eyes told a different story.

“No.” You whispered softly and rested your head on his chest. “No, of course not.”

[maretinelli]

UNTIL YOU LOVE ME

Lando Norris X Piastri!fem!reader

Summary: When Y/n is Oscar's older sister, she works at McLaren in the media and still has a thing with Lando. But she starts avoiding him when she sees videos of him with another woman on Instagram.

Words: 3.7K+

Warnings: Swear words, LOTS of suggestive words, NO BETRAYAL (I didn't want to put more in summary so as not to spoil the plot of the story, relax, no betrayal. Because I hate that), Y/n is Oscar's older sister, mentions of other pilots and Lily being a very sweet, understanding sister-in-law and best friend to Y/n.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And as always, this story came from a song I was listening to while washing the dishes hahaha (??) ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

"Since when does your sister speak Spanish?" Lando asks, leaning against the garage counter with his arms crossed. His gaze was fixed on Y/n near the track, talking to Franco.

Oscar, who was next to his teammate, looks up from his cell phone and sees his older sister talking to Franco, laughing and speaking in Spanish to the Argentine.

"Oh, since she started college. She had to take an extracurricular subject and chose Spanish." Oscar shrugs, turning his attention back to his cell phone.

Lando was still beside him, still leaning on the counter, his eyes fixed on Franco. He had a frown on his forehead, heavy breathing and a look as if he would jump for the pilot's neck.

Piastri then sighs and puts his cell phone in his pocket, nudging his friend's shoulder, making Lando look at him.

"Stop looking at him like that. Soon you'll be able to make him levitate in the air with just a look."

Lando rolls his eyes and uncrosses his arms, resting one hand on the counter behind him.

"She's still not talking to you?" Oscar asks, looking at his older sister and then at Lando.

He shakes his head. "No..."

"What about you? Did you at least try to explain yourself to her?" Oscar raises his eyebrows, waiting for Lando to say something.

"Obviously!" Lando says a little loudly. "I've been trying to talk to her in person and sending her messages for about three races now. But she ignores everything, making the excuse that she needs to sort out some things with the team."

Oscar chuckles softly, knowing that when his older sister didn't want to talk, she knew very well how to find a good excuse to get out of the situation.

"Trust me, you need to explain your side of the story, because... I know exactly what hell is going to happen next." He holds back a laugh and Lando's eyes widen a bit, turning his gaze to Y/n. "You need to tell her that the woman in your car in Monaco was-"

"Oscar!"

Before Oscar could finish speaking, Lily appeared in the garage with a sweet smile.

The Australian driver starts to take a few steps out of the garage and looks at Lando. "You need to talk to her!"

Lando smiles and nods.

Piastri grabs the rest of his things and turns towards where his sister was. "Y/n!! LET'S GO!" He shouts smiling and Y/n immediately turns towards her brother.

"OK! Wait for me in the car, I'll be there in a few minutes!"

Oscar just nods and holds his girlfriend's hand, who is waiting for him in the garage. The Australian looks at Lando and gestures with his hand, encouraging him to explain himself to his older sister.

Lando laughs and they leave the garage.

Since joining McLaren's media team, Y/n has always been close to Lando. They had an easy friendship, full of teasing and laughter, with a natural complicity that made even the mechanics joke that the two worked better together than many driver pairings.

But everything changed six months ago, after a GP that Lando won. The celebration in the paddock was intense, but what really stood out that night was the unexpected kiss that happened between them.

It was something spontaneous, impulsive and perfect.

After that kiss, something changed. They started meeting up outside of racing, seeing each other more often, wanting each other's company in their downtime.

At first, neither of them knew exactly what they were doing, but one thing quickly became clear: this wasn't just a phase or a hobby. Lando and Y/n never explicitly said they were dating, but they promised they wouldn't date anyone else until they figured out what that feeling meant to them.

The truth, however, was that they both already knew the answer. They were in love. They were loving.

Over time, the secret meetings became routine. Lando would take Y/n to Quadrant events, the two would spend nights relaxing in each other's apartments, watching movies or simply enjoying each other's company. Or maybe, it was just the sex.

Everything was away from the eyes of the media, away from any rumors or gossip. Only Oscar and Lily knew what was really going on between them.

But it all fell apart a few weeks ago.

She was in her apartment in Monaco, enjoying a quiet evening, when she decided to browse the internet without any commitments. That's when a video appeared on the screen, posted by some fan.

In the video, Lando was leaving a restaurant accompanied by an unknown woman. They seemed to be talking normally, until she got into his car and he drove away.

The shock was immediate.

A few hours earlier, Lando had even texted Y/n saying he would spend the night with her. And now, here he was, leaving a restaurant with another woman and giving her a ride.

Y/n's mind began to spin, remembering his words, the promise they made not to be with anyone else. Had he lied to her? Betrayed her trust?

Anger and disappointment came together.

At that moment, she made a decision. She canceled all future dates, started avoiding him at GPs, and whenever she had to interact with him for work, she kept everything strictly professional. She ignored all his messages, refused all attempts to talk, and even blocked his number.

But what Y/n didn't know was that it was all just a misunderstanding.

Lando hadn't dated anyone but her. The promise they made was still real to him. He hadn't dated anyone since the day she was announced to work at McLaren. God, he knew from that day that the Australian was the woman of his life.

And the woman in the video wasn't what she seemed, and he desperately needed to tell Y/n the truth before it was too late.

After finishing the conversation with Franco, Y/n walked to the garage again to grab her bag and go to where her brother was waiting. Lando took advantage of the moment and tried to get closer to her, wanting to explain himself, because he knew exactly why she was like that.

"Y/n, can we talk?" He appears beside her as soon as she enters the garage.

Y/n rolls her eyes, noticing his arrival there, and just continues walking down the hallway, ignoring the deep look he had on her.

"Is this about some video for McLaren's media?" She asks, spotting her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

"hm, no..."

"Then we have nothing to talk about. Good night!" Y/n started walking again.

Lando sighs deeply, but smiles, biting his lower lip slightly, knowing that under different circumstances, back when they were together, she would just take her anger out on him in bed. The two of them. Messy sheets. And heavy breathing.

He quickly shakes those thoughts from his mind and runs after her, before she can fully exit the garage.

"So... Franco, huh?" Lando approaches her, whispering close to her neck. Y/n tries to suppress the shiver she felt, but it was unsuccessful, Lando smiled knowing that he had so much power over her.

"Maybe, who knows?" Finally her gaze falls on Lando, raising her eyebrows a little and putting on a corner of her mouth.

He smiles. Y/n Piastri is definitely very different from her brother. While the younger one was more reserved, made few jokes and always had a neutral expression on his face. The older one was a totally provocative person, made a thousand jokes a day and was extroverted.

And Lando knew how incredibly provocative she was in bed. Oh, how he knew.

"I didn't think he was paying you much attention!"

Y/n looks at him in disbelief. "I didn't know you cared so much." She continues walking. "And I also don't know why you're talking to me. You should be thinking about the actions you've been doing while I was in my apartment waiting for you."

Lando rolls his eyes a little amused at the situation he was in. Yet another sign that Norris could be quite the provocateur.

He leans closer to her ear, making her swallow hard and start walking slower.

"You know, I don't think he's your type..." He begins. "I don't think he's going to hold you in bed..." Lando smiles, watching Y/n lose the stability he had created around her lately. "Because... with him you try, but with me you come and sit!"

Y/n held a breath in her throat and looked at him, trying to keep a serious expression and a frown on her forehead.

"Are you still talking?" She sends him a menacing look, which for a moment, makes Lando regret his jokes and teasing.

Y/n continues walking through the paddock, quickly now, a little shaken by those words, but leaving Lando behind, staring at her silhouette that was getting further and further away.

Norris would do anything that weekend to have an explanatory conversation with Y/n, even if he had to use his flattering and provocative side.

•••••••••••••••••••••

The following day, the early sun was already painting the paddock lines orange during the Spanish Grand Prix. While the team moved with their usual pre-race haste and energy, Y/n remained secluded in her small McLaren media office, a simple space provided by the organization for the teams.

Ever since Lando's attempted conversation the previous afternoon, she had made a point of avoiding him, maintaining an emotional distance that reflected the confusion she felt and the provocations that had definitely gotten to her.

Sitting in a swivel chair, Y/n turned slowly, as if trying to find answers in the rotations of her own body. His eyes, lost in thought, followed the reflection of the lights that were beginning to twinkle through the window glass, while his hands, restless, gently touched the back of the chair.

Beside her, Lily was sitting in a smaller chair, positioned so that she could follow both the cell phone screen and the thoughts that, lightly, escaped Y/n's lips.

“I think I have the measles.” She says, blowing her nose into a tissue and Lily stifles a laugh, raising her eyebrows slightly. “I had a fever before I got on the flight and now I’m sneezing.”

"Couldn't this just be a cold?"

"I don't know..." Y/n sighs, resting her head on the back of the chair and turning around again. "I googled it and it told me it was measles or cancer... so I preferred measles."

Lily lets out a loud laugh. "Good thing you didn't choose a career in healthcare." Y/n turns to her and laughs too. "But the fever? I think it's love fever." She waggles her eyebrows. "Have you talked to Lando yet?"

Y/n rolls her eyes when she hears the pilot's name.

"Not me. I have nothing to talk to him about!"

"But he must have, right?" Lily said calmly, leaning forward a little to look at her sister-in-law. Lily shook her head with an amused smile, crossing her legs and resting her elbow on the arm of the chair. "You can pretend you don't care, but I know you still like him."

Y/n stopped spinning in her chair, sighing deeply.

"I like him, okay?" She admitted, looking down at her hands. "I'm still in love with him, and that's what makes me the most angry. Because if it were any other guy, I'd just move on. But it's Lando...and he's the best...I can't explain how in love I am...and I also can't believe he did this to me."

Lily watched her for a moment, biting her lip as if pondering her next words. She knew the truth. Lando had already told her and Oscar everything when Piastri confronted him, ready to defend his older sister.

But it wasn't Lily's place to reveal the truth. Y/n needed to hear it directly from Lando.

"Have you ever considered that it might have been a misunderstanding?" Lily suggested carefully.

Y/n snorted. "Yes. And at the same time, no. If he wanted to explain it to me, he had plenty of time to do so."

"That is if you would stop running away from him, right?" Lily raised an eyebrow. "He's already getting frustrated with how much you avoid him."

Y/n crossed her arms, not knowing how to respond. Maybe Lily had a point, but she still couldn't just forget what she saw.

Lily, noticing what her sister-in-law was thinking, decided to lighten up a bit. "And you know what? He's getting really jealous every time you talk to Franco. It's hilarious. He glares at the poor guy every time he sees you two talking."

Y/n rolled her eyes, holding back a smile. "Oh, great. Now he wants to play jealous?"

"Believe me, if his looks were lethal, Franco would already be in another dimension." She laughed.

Before Y/n could respond, they heard a knock on the door. Turning their heads in sync towards the noise.

"Come in!" Y/n said, still smiling slightly.

When the door opened, Lando appeared, leaning against the frame with a serious look, but with a small smile on his face.

"Lily, Oscar is looking for you." He informed, glancing quickly at Y/n before turning his eyes back to Lily.

Lily smiled, feeling that this was the perfect moment to leave the two alone. "Great!" She said, standing up. Before leaving, she lightly touched Y/n's shoulder. "Take the opportunity to talk to him."

Y/n shot her sister-in-law a death glare, but Lily just winked at her before leaving, smiling sympathetically as she walked past Lando.

Silence filled the room. Y/n looked away from the pilot and stood up, going to a table to get her camera.

"Can we talk?" He was still there, leaning against the doorframe.

"I have to work," she said, adjusting her gear. "Now is not a good time for conversation. You should be in the garage, too."

Lando sighed, and before she could move toward the door, he closed it, blocking the exit.

"Do you need to work or are you avoiding talking to me?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Or... do you just want to go talk to Franco? You guys seem pretty close, don't you?"

Y/n stopped in her tracks, narrowing her eyes at him. "Seriously? You want to go that way?"

Lando smirked. "I'm just asking."

Y/n approached the door, trying to open it, but he used his body to stop her.

"What's wrong, Y/n? Are you afraid to answer?"

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Oh, please, Norris. If I wanted to provoke you, I could do a much better job of it than just talking to Franco.”

Lando chuckled, leaning closer to her ear. "And what would you do, then?"

Y/n just rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the heat his gaze caused. She was still irritated, but at the same time, she knew she was about to give in.

She felt the heat of Lando's body so close to hers that she had to close her eyes for a moment, trying to control her rapid breathing. But it was useless. He was there, so close, and she felt electricity run through every part of her body.

Making her remember all the times they were the only ones in a room with kisses, sighs and touches all over their bodies.

Lando smiled as he noticed her gesture, his expression becoming even more teasing.

"Why don't you give me a chance to explain myself, huh? Afraid of finding out I was wrong?"

Y/n opened her eyes, her stubbornness returning with a vengeance. "I've seen enough, Lando. I don't need to hear lies."

The answer only made Lando move even closer. They were face to face now, their faces inches apart. His intense gaze bored into her eyes, and Y/n felt her legs give out a little as her breath hitched against his lips.

"So that's it? You'd rather believe a random video than me?"

He was so close that she could feel his words on her skin, like a warm breath. Without thinking, as if something greater than her stubbornness took over her, Y/n moved even closer. And Lando smiled before finally kissing her.

It was a hot, urgent kiss, full of longing and emotion. His hands held her waist firmly, pulling her close, while her fingers intertwined in his hair. Lando kissed her as if he was trying to prove, with every movement, that she belonged to him. Y/n gave in for a moment, feeling her heart hammering in her chest.

But before they could go any further, she suddenly pulled away and slapped his chest, her expression irritated.

"You're impossible, Lando! That was a low blow!"

Lando chuckled, licking his lips. "I'd say it was well deserved."

Y/n huffed, pushing him aside lightly. "You should be focusing on the race, not me."

"I haven't been able to concentrate since you started avoiding me." He smiled sideways and added, his voice lower and full of intent, "I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me."

Y/n rolled her eyes and opened the door, rushing out and slamming it shut behind her. That was it. If she didn't talk to Lando right away, he would continue to follow her like a relentless paparazzi.

As she walked through the paddock, Lando's taunts still echoed in her mind. Little by little, she began to doubt whether she had really seen the situation wrong.

Oscar had insisted that she talk to Lando, and if it really was a betrayal, his brother would never speak like that.

Y/n suddenly stopped in the middle of the paddock, lost in her thoughts, when someone bumped into her.

"Oops! Sorry, Y/n! Are you okay?"

She blinked a few times and smiled.

"Hi, Yes, I just... I need to speak to someone on the team."

Franco frowned suspiciously. "You look a little lost."

She just smiled.

But before she could say anything else, the Argentine pilot placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and smiled.

"Well, whatever. It's going to be okay," he comforted gently. "See you around!" He walked through the paddock, holding a thermos in his hands and his mate.

It was at that moment that she decided. She needed to talk to Lando.

Y/n ran back to McLaren HQ, rushing inside to get to the office. But before she could reach the door, she turned a corner and bumped into Lando head on.

"What's going on?" He held her, worried.

"You!" Y/n smiled determinedly.

Lando smiled back and she grabbed his hand, pulling him back into the room.

"I was too hasty and didn't let you speak. But now you can say everything. Even if it hurts." She said quickly, as she closed the door to the small office.

Lando held her face with both hands, caressing her cheeks as he looked deep into her teary eyes.

"Okay, you were angry. But, Y/n, the woman in the video was my sister, Flo. She came to visit me in Monaco and I took her around the city. I would never cheat on you. Ever. And you know..."

Y/n felt her heart race. She blinked in confusion, letting the tears fall.

"Your...your sister?"

Lando laughs and takes his cell phone out of his pocket, opening the photo gallery and showing a photo of him and his brothers. The girl next to him was identical to the one who appeared in the video.

Y/n laughs and puts her hands on her face, a little embarrassed now.

"It's your sister-in-law." Lando chuckles. "You know, I'm in love with you Y/n, I haven't dated anyone before you showed up at McLaren. I knew something big was coming, and it was you. You're the woman I want in my life. I love you, my Australian!" Lando says softly, calmly and romantically. Another version of him that made Y/n's heart melt.

Y/n felt her heart race. She blinked in confusion, letting the tears fall. "Do... do you love me?"

Lando laughed softly.

"And why wouldn't I? You're wonderful, stubborn, funny, kind, beautiful... warm. I love your Australian accent, your laugh when you find something really funny. I love how you bite the cap of your pen when you're concentrating. I love when you play the big sister and fight with Oscar in the garage in front of everyone, just out of protectiveness." She laughs and Lando tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. "And I love... loving you."

Y/n's tears fell at once and, without thinking, she threw herself into his arms.

"I'm sorry. I was an idiot for not listening to you sooner. It's just... this relationship with a public figure still scares me."

Lando pulled her close, kissing the top of her head.

"I will never hurt you. Nor do anything that would make you feel betrayed. Besides, if I did that, Oscar would hunt me to the ends of the earth."

Y/n laughed, pulling away a little and cupping his face.

"I love you, Lan!" She confessed. And how she loved that British man.

Lando's smile grew and he took her hands in his. "So, do you want to make it official? Do you want to date me?"

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise. "You're asking me out now?"

"Yes. And if you say no, I'll have to kiss you again until you change your mind."

"Yes, I do, love." She smiles.

Lando pulled her into another kiss, this time calmer, but full of affection and love. His hands framed her face, as if she were a rare and precious jewel. The Australian's hands ran to his light brown curls, twirling some of them around her fingers.

"The only problem is that I don't have the ring here. But as soon as we get to Monaco, I'll spend hours with you in bed and give you the ring that's already been bought." Lando says, as they walk away.

"Okay, I guess I can go a few days without the ring." She smiles, and then leans closer to his ear. "But now, the part about staying in bed... I can't promise to stay without it..."

"If you keep saying things like that, I won't even be able to run tomorrow."

She laughed and kissed him again, knowing that no matter what, they were finally where they were supposed to be.

Author: Now, a curiosity hahaha I live in the south of Brazil, practically next door to Franco haha, and here I drink a lot of "Mate" too, I'm addicted, but it's also called "chimarrão". My aunts who live in the countryside call it "Mate", I who am from the big city call it chimarrão hahahahaha, just a curiosity of mine and the south of Brazil.

[regressionschool]

PAMPERS PUBLIC SCHOOL REFORM: EDUCATION REIMAGINED OR REGRESSION GONE TOO FAR?

By Emily Dawson, Investigative Reporter

For years, education reform has been a topic of heated debate. Traditional schooling often leaves students overwhelmed by stress, struggling with expectations, and ill-prepared for real life. In response, school districts across the country have begun partnering with Pampers Corporation to introduce a radically new approach to learning—one that eliminates unnecessary pressure, fosters emotional well-being, and removes the burdens of growing up too quickly.

The Pampers Public School Reform Program has now fully replaced traditional education in multiple districts, converting high schools into structured learning environments tailored to a simpler, more guided lifestyle. Students are relieved of responsibilities that once weighed them down, such as complex coursework, college preparation, and even basic hygiene routines. In their place? A nurturing, preschool-style environment where comfort and security come first.

While many officials praise the program’s success, not everyone is celebrating.

"I’m Not a Toddler—Why Are They Treating Me Like One?"

Emma Reynolds, 18, had spent years working toward an honors diploma, with hopes of attending a prestigious university. But when her high school was converted to a Pampers Academy, she found herself pulled into a system she never agreed to.

"It’s not school—it’s a daycare," Emma hisses, gripping the edge of her desk, which is barely big enough to accommodate her.

Around her, the other students seem perfectly content in their new reality. The majority have already transitioned to full-time Pampers, no longer expected to even attempt bathroom breaks. Many sit in their seats with thickly padded bottoms, others waddle freely around the classroom, their sagging diapers peeking out from beneath colorful onesies. Some suckle on pacifiers while listening to their teacher read a picture book aloud, their attention spans seemingly far removed from any concern about essays, exams, or college applications.

Emma isn’t like them. She remembers what school used to be.

"They call me ‘sweetie’ and ‘princess’ and pat my head when I get answers right. They make me sit crisscross-applesauce on the rug during storytime. They don’t teach math, they teach shapes. We have scheduled nap times. And worst of all?" She shifts uncomfortably, her thick pull-ups rustling beneath her skirt. "They won’t even let us use the bathroom like normal people."

Under the Pampers system, students are placed in protective undergarments based on their "developmental needs." For most, that means ultra-absorbent Pampers diapers, ensuring accidents never disrupt classroom learning. Only a handful, like Emma, are still permitted pull-ups, though even that comes with restrictions.

"I told them I don’t need them. I told them I can hold it during class. But guess what?" She clenches her fists. "I couldn’t."

She shakes her head, looking away. "And when you have an accident, they make a big deal about it. They take you to the ‘quiet corner,’ change you, tell you it’s okay, and give you a sticker for ‘trying your best.’ It’s humiliating. But the worst part?" She swallows hard. "The more accidents you have, the more they ‘adjust’ your routine."

At first, Emma was only required to wear pull-ups during class. Now, she’s in them full-time. She doesn’t know what the next "adjustment" will be.

"What happens if they decide I don’t need pull-ups anymore?" she whispers. "What happens if they decide I need…more?"

A Mother’s Concern: “I Don’t Know How Much Longer She’ll Last”

Emma’s mother, Debbie Hall, initially believed the program was an opportunity for her daughter to learn patience and adapt to new challenges. Now, she isn’t so sure.

"She’s been fighting this since day one," Debbie admits, rubbing her temples. "But every time she resists, the school just… doubles down."

At first, Emma refused to use her Pampers-issued pull-ups, insisting she would simply wait until she got home. It didn’t last.

"She told me she’d hold it," Debbie sighs, shaking her head. "She didn’t."

When the school called, Debbie was asked to bring a fresh pull-up and a change of clothes—a moment she describes as one of the most surreal experiences of her life.

"I stood outside the classroom, holding a pack of training pants meant for toddlers, about to hand them to my eighteen-year-old daughter." She exhales sharply. "I don’t know how much longer she’ll last before she stops fighting it."

And that, she fears, is exactly what Pampers wants.

Success Stories: “Happier, Healthier Students”

Despite cases like Emma��s, school officials and many parents insist the program is working. According to Superintendent Laura Whitmore, dropout rates have plummeted, student anxiety is at an all-time low, and behavioral issues are almost nonexistent.

"When we take away the pressures of growing up too fast, we allow students to flourish in a safe, nurturing space," Whitmore explains. "Pampers helps us create a structured learning environment where students can focus on emotional well-being and positive reinforcement.

Studies show that students in the program are better rested, less anxious, and more cooperative. Many enthusiastically embrace their new routine, growing attached to naptime, play-based learning, and the security of their Pampers uniforms.

"Some students come in fighting," Whitmore admits. "But as they settle into the routine, they come to appreciate the comfort and care we provide. And the best part? They never have to worry about making ‘big kid’ mistakes again."

The Future of Education?

With more schools adopting the Pampers model, traditional high school education may soon become a thing of the past. For students like Emma, who still long for independence, the future remains uncertain. But for many others, a world without adult pressures, expectations, or even bathroom breaks is a dream come true.

And as the Pampers program continues to expand, one thing is clear:

For the next generation, growing up may no longer be necessary.

(Sponsored in part by Pampers Corporation. Because learning should be comfortable.)

[carisa-ironfell]

If you're going to church just for the "sermon" and want to get pissy about getting "lectured" instead, you're not actually listening to what's being said (or your pastor isn't saying the right things) and you definitely aren't going to church for the right reasons. It's just autopilot at that point, just a pointless ritual that doesn't mean anything. And I know this from experience because that's WHY I stopped going to church. I wasn't getting anything useful out of it, and the environment was taxing my mental health instead of helping me heal. I wasn't growing, I was just miserable and angry and bitter.

The point of church, as I've always understood it ever since I was little, is to connect with the other members of your community and help each other learn and grow and continuously become better people, to follow Jesus' teachings and LOVE people. You go to church to LEARN, and when needed, to be guided back to the right path by your pastor and/or your peers. That's literally their job. For example, most of Paul's writings. (Paraphrased: Y'all are acting crazy, stop doing that. Here's how to fix it.)

You don't have to agree with others' choices in order to love them, and something that a LOT of Christians seem to miss is: if you're not getting through to someone and you can't change their mind, let it go. The seed is planted, and there's a chance that years down the line, God will speak to that person and they'll be ready to listen. Shouting in their face (literally or figuratively) is only going to make them get defensive and shut down and push that time further away.

Anyway. No one who claims to be Christian or any kind of servant of God should be rejoicing in mass slaughter. And I've had to listen to "Christians" rant about how great and amazing the nightmare in Palestine and other Middle Eastern conflicts are, and it makes me sick. Whether you agree with them or not, people don't deserve to die like that. And if there's a member of a church who tries to implore the president to do something positive about that whole disaster, don't get pissed off with them, because they seem to understand the teachings better than you do.

I don't really consider myself Christian. I want nothing to do with that (generalized) group of people, because I have yet to meet any of them who make sense to me and can help me grow. I believe in God, I do my best to act in ways that reflects Him, but until the church starts shaping up and actually behaving with love and compassion instead of hatred, I'm not involving myself with them. It's dismal to watch and it makes my heart ache. And I can only imagine God probably feels the same way in a lot of cases.

I wasn't expecting to say this much ._. Uhh, sorry if anyone actually reads this lol Be safe and well! With love, Reggie 🤍

The lack of self-awareness is truly astounding.

[destinedfordiapers]

No One Mourns The Wicked

This story is set in the Your Change of Plans universe. So read that first. Or don’t. Either way.

I’ll be honest. When Claire’s parents first told me they were sending her to the Little’s Program™️, I tried my best to stop them.

In my defense, Claire was beautiful and who wants to date a girl in diapers?

I mean, sure, she was stuck-up, shallow, and superficial. And yeah, she thought she was the Queen Bee wearing designer clothes and ruthlessly controlling our friend group.

She was a mean girl. Think Regina George. That kind of girl.

But now that I see her, stripped from her fancy, expensive clothes and attitude wearing that adorable diaper—I can’t help but agree it’s for the best.

“Awww, Clairebear! Don’t be shy!!! It’s just me!”

As you can see, Claire hid her face in her stuffies, too embarrassed to respond.

“Claire, honey,” her mom says, “Ryan came all this way to see you. We don’t ignore our guests, do we?”

A few weeks ago, Claire would’ve bit her mom’s head off for talking to her like that.

But now look at her.

Her mom turns to me, smiling. “She might need a few minutes to warm up to you. She’s still adjusting to her new life.”

Claire digs her face further into her stuffies, whimpering.

“It’s okay, I’m sure it’s a big transition for her. I mean, she did go from Prada to Pampers! Gucci to Gerber! Cartier to cribs! But she’s just so cute in that diaper!”

“Well she does have the best diapers on the market! Only the best for Claire,” her mom says, “Plus she’s been much better behaved since she got back. Sure, she still throws tantrums—all Littles do!—but now they’re about not wanting her poopy diaper changed instead of throwing a fit because we got her the wrong Hermes bag!”

“Now that is something I gotta see! Clairebear throwing a tantrum in a poopy diaper?! How cute is that?”

More whimpers from Claire.

“Well, you’re in luck! She’s past due for her afternoon boom boom. She usually goes during her nap but not today. Should be any minute!”

She pats Claire’s diaper playfully.

“It’s just so crazy,” I say astonished, “Claire poops her diapers now.”

“Yep, the Littles Center recommended the full package to fix her attitude after meeting Claire. Complete unpotty-training, inability to orgasm, and strict reliance on the Littles Center’s special baby formula. She can’t eat any adult food without getting an icky tummy!”

“Well, judging by the fact I haven’t heard Claire talk back at all, I’d say it’s working!”

“Like a charm! She did have a meltdown after we gave her fancy clothes to her cousins, but Littles don’t need fancy clothes, do they Claire?”

“M-maawmmmyyyyy,” Claire lisp’s adorably.

“Sorry, honey, but you need onesies and diapers! And I almost forgot, Claire also got the Babble Package™️, so she sounds just like a toddler! How cute is that?”

“I na a tawdwa!!” Claire shrieks.

It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.

“Of course you’re not,” I coo, “You’re our Clairebear!”

Claire’s mom smiles, “Well, why don’t I leave you two alone so you can catch up. Let me know if she makes a poopy!”

Claire moans again.

For the first time since her regression, I’m alone with Claire.

It’s strange, seeing her there in her diaper, completely docile. Nothing like the bossy, sexy woman she used to be.

I sit on the bed next to her, rubbing her shoulder. “Hey, Clairebear.”

She lifts her head from her stuffies. “H-hi Wyan.” Hearing herself she hides her head again.

Doing my best not to laugh, I push forward. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetie. Not with me. You know I love you. Even if things are different.”

Hearing the “I love you,” Claire immediately turns around. “P-pwomith?”

“Yes, Claire, I promise.”

For the first time since I got there, Claire smiled and sat up against her pillows.

“Is this your stuffy?”

“Mhm! It’s Wy-Wy Dog!” she says excitedly, showing me her stuffed dog.

“Awww, did you name him after me?”

“Yeah!” she says, blushing a bit.

“Well I think he’s the cutest little stuffy in the whole world!”

Her smile fades slightly. “Don wan stuffies, wan you!”

I sigh. I knew it would come to this eventually. I wasn’t lying, I did love her. But I can’t date a Little. I need a woman, not a pamper packer.

“Clairebear, I love you, I really do. But you’re…you’re a Little now. It’s not appropriate for you to be in an adult relationship anymore.”

“Buh, buh!” she starts, stomping her hands and feet, “Na fawr!!! I you guwlfwien!!!”

As I look into her eyes, I no longer see the sophisticated, sexy woman she used to be. Whatever she used to be, whatever fun we used to have, a distant memory.

“Sorry, little one. I need a woman—an adult—and you’re not that anymore. You’re not even potty trained, it’s just not meant to be. Maybe you’ll find a nice guy at daycare!”

I knew I went too far right away. The tantrum started right away.

“NOOOOO!” she shouted, kicking her feet more than ever! Na a baby! Na na na!”

The kicking of her feet caused an immediate reaction. Her screaming suddenly stopped as her eyes grew wide.

“What’s wrong, honey?” I ask before a grunt answers my question.

A loud, bubbly toot trumpets out of her diaper, leaving no ambiguity of what’s happening. Her eyes furrow in concentration at the task at hand.

Her diaper expands rapidly as she grunts. Her eyes still unfocused as she works to fill her diaper.

All I can do is watch as the woman I once revered poops her diaper in front of me, no different from an actual toddler.

Well, I guess she basically is a toddler now.

After a few bubbly toots, her grunting stops. Though the smell immediately attacks my nose, barely mitigated by the baby powder in her diaper.

“Did someone just make a poopoo?” I ask in a babyish voice. I couldn’t help myself. It was instinctual.

It’s just how you talk to pamper packers.

“No poopies!” she shrieks, legs kicking again. Her diaper swaying dangerously.

“Are you sure about that, little one?”

“I didn’! You did!” she squeals, trying to kick me.

“Excuse me, Claire? This is not how a Little should behave! You do not fib about your diaper and you definitely do not try to kick adults!”

“Don care! Na baby!!”

“If you keep acting like this you’re gonna learn what happens to misbehaving Littles. I’ll give you one more chance before you end up on my lap.”

I almost felt bad. The last thing I did was want to cause Claire to throw a tantrum. But here we are.

“You na my mawmy! You dum baby too!” she retorted, still trying to kick me.

“No, but I am,” her mom says walking in, “I could hear your tantrum all the way down the hall! Were you trying to kick Ryan?”

Claire’s eyes grew wide. “I-I-I b-but!!”

“We do not kick our babysitters, do you understand me?” her mom said in that deeply maternal voice you hear when you’re in trouble.

In a flash, Claire’s mom is sitting on the bed, pulling her kicking and screaming Little on her lap.

Claire’s diaper is already browning, bulging under the weight of its contents.

She turns to me and says over Claire’s whining, “I’m sorry, Ryan. I did warn you about her poopy diaper tantrums! I’ll take care of this one, are you still on to babysit her Friday night?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

“Great, you go on, I’ll see you then. I have to teach this little one some manners.”

As I walk out, I hear SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I may have lost my girlfriend, but I can’t argue this isn’t for the best.

[covenofagatha]

Do I wanna know? (Part 3)

Agatha and you have a talk about the future

Word count: 4k

Warnings: 69, oral, smut, angst (hopefully not as much), why would you ever talk about feelings/problems when you could just fuck instead

“What? What part?” you ask, your voice sounding unfamiliar to your own ears. “If it’s the City, it’s fine, that’s not far away, you could even stay here.” 

Agatha purses her lips. “It’s in Albany.” 

Your stomach drops. Two hours away by car on a good day, about four by train. Agatha has a pitiful look on her face and you want to scoff. 

Of course she’s feeling sorry for you. 

“Honey,” she starts, cool and calm as ever and it makes you fucking enraged. She reaches out to touch you again — why does she keep trying to do that? why doesn’t she realize that she isn’t going to fix anything? — but you shove her aside and scramble off the couch, beginning to pace with your head in your hands. 

Is this better than the affair? She still lied to you. She still didn’t tell you about it, she’s still looking to get out. “Why didn’t you say anything?” you demand, pausing to look at her. 

Her jaw tightens. “I didn’t — I didn’t want to before it got real. I wasn’t even sure I was going to go, but my friend reached out and it’s a really good opportunity. The company took me out to dinner last night as an informal interview and I ended up staying the night. I didn’t think you’d come here, I thought you were mad at me or something. Baby, I was really worried about you.” 

In any other situation, you’d feel touched by her concern, but it really just pisses you off even more. This isn’t about you. “I thought you were having an affair,” you say again and her face falls. 

“I would never—”

You don’t even want to hear it. “Look, don’t change the subject, okay? The point is, you did this huge thing without even telling me and now — what? You’re moving to New York?” 

Now she seems unable to meet your eyes, an uncharacteristic shyness radiating off her. “I haven’t even gotten the job yet.”

Your mind starts to whirl with the possibilities. “If you get it, are you going to take it?” 

There’s a thick silence that hangs over you two for a moment and you can see the vein in her forehead pulse as she thinks about it. But her hesitation is all the answer you need. 

“Okay,” you breathe. You don’t even know where your head is at — you’re so fucking mad, but you’re also so relieved that she isn’t cheating, but then now there’s this wrench that could possibly mean the end of things. You’re not going to let that happen. Dropping to your knees in front of her and finally touching her of your own accord with your palms flat on her legs, you earnestly look at her. “We can…we can figure it out, we will figure it out. I can come down on the weekends or you can come here or — I can transfer! I’ll transfer to somewhere in New York and we can get an apartment, just the two of us, and obviously I won’t be much help with the rent because it’s expensive as shit there—”

Agatha pulls you up by your cheeks and kisses you, effectively shutting you up. You lose yourself in the feeling of her lips against yours and you moan softly, everything slipping away for just a moment. In these five seconds, it’s just the two of you and nothing else can come between you. 

But then she breaks away and sighs heavily, resting her forehead against yours. “You just started school here,” she says gently. “I can’t make you give that up. Don’t you like it?”

You shrug lazily. “It’s the first week. I’m not too attached. I’m sure somewhere there will be just as good.” 

“What about your parents? What would you tell them?” 

Why does it feel like she doesn’t want you there? You can’t help the frown tugging on your lips. “I’ll just say that I don’t like it at Westview. I’m sure I can come up with something. They’ll just want me to be happy.” Agatha makes you happy, but there’s a flicker of doubt growing in your stomach.

She cups your cheek and leans back so you’re able to see her eyes. They’re blue as the ocean, full of emotion, and glassy. “Why don’t you give it a few months, hm? I don’t want you to throw away your school and your family just for me. If you really don’t like it, then we can talk.”

“What if I just drop out of school and become your trophy wife? I’ll be such a good one, I’d wear nothing but an apron all day and make your favorite foods and then I can sit on your strap while you eat dinner.” You play it off like a joke, but deep down, you would be more than willing. You hope she says yes. 

Agatha huffs out a laugh and sniffs, tracing a finger down the skin of your face like she’s trying to memorize it. “Wear a short little maid outfit that just happens to ride up and show off your bare cunt when you’re on your knees cleaning the floor?” 

You hum and close your eyes in pure bliss at the thought. “See, now you get it. It would be so perfect, right? 

“So perfect,” she agrees, but her smile lingers until it’s wistful. There’s a longing pang inside you, one that threatens to tear you open, but you push it down. “I know I haven’t gotten it yet, but I won’t take it,” she says quietly after a moment and your brows furrow in confusion. “If you don’t want me to take it, I won’t.” 

Every single morsel of your body is screaming for you to ask her to stay. It would be so easy, and then you could just pretend that none of this — the suspicion, the lies, the sneaking around — never happened. Everything could go back to the way it was before. 

But the slightest fear that she would start to resent you for it creeps into the back of your mind. Sure, she might not mind at first, but over time when her job here gets old and she’s unhappy, she’s going to blame you. She’s going to start to hate you for holding her back, and what if you’re not worth it? 

The last thought hits you like a punch to the gut. Are you enough to keep her content if she stays? Are you enough to keep her happy? 

You’re paralyzed and she’s looking at you expectantly, like it’s an easy fucking decision. You want to complain that it’s not fair for her to put this on you, that she should want to be with you so badly that she willingly gives up the new position for you, but maybe she’s having the same doubts.

The only thing you know is that you don’t want to end up like your parents, with a loveless marriage and a cold, empty house despite the family living in it and the bitter silence of words left unsaid haunting every moment. You don’t want this to become an open wound that festers until Agatha hates you for it. 

“If it’s a better job and if you want it, you should take it,” you say, almost surprised by how eerily calm your voice sounds. 

Agatha looks taken aback for just the slightest moment but nods. “You’re sure?” 

No! Stay with me! I fucking love you! 

“Yeah,” you rasp and she bends down to kiss you again, so sweetly that it hurts. She murmurs something against your lips but you don’t even think to ask what she says because you can’t stop the nausea climbing up your throat. 

You jump back and run to the bathroom before vomiting in the toilet. You sink to the floor, shaking and sweating and trembling, and you’re vaguely aware of Agatha’s hands in your hair, holding it back, and telling you that everything is going to be alright. Is it?

She gets a wet washcloth and holds it against your head while you don’t move from your position, waiting to see if you have to puke again. 

“Had too much to drink last night,” you mutter, feeling like you’re drunk all over again, when she asks if you’re feeling okay. “Thought you were cheating.”  

You hear a heavy sigh behind you and tears prick your eyes. Is she disappointed? Does she think you’re being just a stupid kid? “I wouldn’t, honey. I wouldn’t do that. I promise. I—” She stops and strokes your hair instead.

It feels like there’s something she’s not saying, but maybe you’re just reading into it. 

And then there’s your I love you while she was fucking you, still fresh in your mind. Do you say it again? Do you ask if she heard it? Or just wait until she says it first?

If she does. You can’t get these stupid insecurities and doubts out of your mind and it’s killing you. 

“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up again?” she asks gently and you shake your head. “Come on, why don’t we get you into the shower and then into bed?”

You want to protest just to be petulant, but you’re just so fucking tired. “Okay, mommy,” you say and she sharply inhales, but pretends to be unaffected. Good to know that you can still get to her after you look like you’ve just been through hell. 

She turns the water on and you numbly wait until she guides you up and helps you undress before you step into the shower. You almost buckle to the ground but Agatha holds you up, the sleeves of her blazer getting soaked, but she doesn’t even notice it. 

It’s an awkward position, her on the outside of the tub and you barely standing up inside it, but she rubs your skin and you slowly feel warmth returning to your body. 

You’re about to ask if she’ll get in with you — you see the way she can’t stop looking at your tits and you’re suddenly longing to feel her on you, a reminder that she is yours — when a phone rings. 

Definitely not yours; your phone is always on silent. 

Agatha curses and tells you she’ll be right back before disappearing from the bathroom. The cold feeling starts to grow back in your stomach, creeping up to your throat and gripping tightly. 

“Yes — this is she!” you hear her say from the other room, her voice getting louder as she comes back into the bathroom. You look at her with wide eyes and she gives you a tight smile. “Oh, I did? Well, thank you very much, that is wonderful news.”

The person on the other line starts talking and you can only catch quick muffles of it, but from Agatha’s face, you already know. 

“Of course, yes, hang on just one second,” she says and presses her phone against her shoulder to give you her full attention. Eye contact with her feels like a stab to the gut. “Honey, are you sure you’re okay with this? You can say no.” 

Can you? 

It’s on the tip of your tongue — it would be so easy to ask her to turn it down, so easy to ask her to choose you. She’s waiting for an answer but each drop of water on your skin feels like a chant: no. no. no. You know Agatha’s trying to remain neutral, but you can tell she wants the job, by the way she’s twitching her fingers and the barely concealed pleading look on her face and the way she’s holding her phone so tightly it’s making her veins pop out all bluish and purplish. 

It’s clear that you cannot say no. 

You’re not sure she would ever forgive you, and you’re not sure you would ever forgive yourself. You can’t ask her to throw away this opportunity, not for you. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you say hoarsely, feeling a lot like you just signed a death warrant. 

But plenty of people do long distance, and two hours really isn’t that bad. Plus it just means that with all the waiting, the sex will be even hotter. Her moving away doesn’t mean anything. 

And you can transfer at the end of the semester, so really you just have to make it a few months. 

Agatha’s beam is one of pure gratitude and you know you made the right choice, but she’s back to talking on the phone and your little moment is interrupted. “Oh…two weeks? Of course, I can totally do that.” 

A flash of panic bolts through you and you mouth two weeks? at her. She purses her lips and shrugs apologetically, like that’s supposed to make you feel better. 

The rest of her phone call is blurred out by your sudden inability to hear anything but the rush of the water that has suddenly become so loud it’s taken over all your thoughts and you don’t even realize that she’s hung up and cleaned you off and gotten you out of the shower until you’re shivering and naked and Agatha’s wrapping a towel around you. 

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” she murmurs because you’re now uncontrollably shaking and you think you might be crying a little. “Everything’s going to be okay.” She presses kisses to your forehead and cheeks and nose, muttering the same sort of sentients, while the towel around you slips to the floor when you throw your arms around her and cling to her like she’s your lifeline, like she’s everything you’ll ever need, and she holds you back so tightly you think you might fuse into one being. 

The two of you stand there like that until your skin gets clammy and pruney and your eyes are raw. When you finally pull back, your muscles ache and the front of Agatha’s clothes are absolutely soaked, so you tug on them until she gets the message and begins to strip. 

Her blazer comes off, and then she untucks her blouse from her pants and slowly begins to unbutton it, each time revealing more of her perfect pale skin. You can see the faint outlines of her ribs and then her stomach, the red bites from two days ago still there, albeit faded. 

There’s no mistaking the “M” though. A hot thrill runs through you despite the solemn air between you and a fire starts to flicker to life in your stomach. You reach out to trace your mark as if in a trance and Agatha’s breath hitches. 

Swallowing roughly, your eyes dart up to meet her already-dark ones. “We should talk about the job, right? Figure out what it means for us?” you ask, but even as the words leave your mouth, you can feel the atmosphere shift into something else. 

“Right,” Agatha nods, but she can’t stop looking down at your pebbled nipples — from the cold or from her? 

When she surges forward, clasps your cheeks, and pulls your mouth to hers, you know that it’s both. The kiss is messy, teeth knocking against each other and her tongue invading your mouth and breathing each other’s air, and you wrap your arms around her neck to bring her even closer. She didn’t get to take her pants off yet, but it feels absolutely delicious when she slides a thigh between yours and you grind down onto it. Your nipples brush against the fabric of her bra and you can’t help but moan into her open mouth. 

Fire roars beneath your skin, spreading to all over your body, and you suddenly just need more. You need her to overwhelm all your senses until you can’t fucking think about anything else, not the job, not her moving, not the fact that you could’ve stopped this but didn’t — you just want her. 

She grabs onto your hip to guide you against her leg and you whine as she sucks on your tongue. Her other hand comes up to cup your right breast and roll your nipple and you mewl and jerk against her. She tugs and it feels directly connected to your cunt because you pulse and it only gets worse when she flexes her thigh underneath you. 

“Bed — bedroom, please,” you choke out and her mouth doesn’t leave yours, walking you backwards into the bedroom and not stopping until the backs of your knees hit the bed. 

Agatha pushes you down onto it, the duvet beneath you instantly getting wet from your dripping pussy, and she shimmies off her pants and underwear and sinks to her knees in front of you. It’s a sight to behold, her looking up at you from the floor like she wants to devour you, like she would hang the stars and the sun in the sky for you and it still wouldn’t be enough. The power running through you from the heat in her eyes and the ragged heaving of her red chest and the way she tosses her hair over her shoulder is enough to drive you mad. 

“You’re so perfect,” she breathes and it only makes you wetter. You buck your hips against the bed, trying to get some stimulation to your now-aching clit, but it’s not even close to enough. 

But it’s not even five seconds later when she leans in, inhales the scent of you deeply, and then drags her flattened tongue through your folds, making you keen and arch your back. She is so good with her mouth and she never fails to remind you. 

“Fuck, Agatha,” you gasp, and you usually don’t call her by her name during sex, normally opting for mommy, but you need the intimacy right now. You need to feel like this is real. 

She groans into you and teases her tongue around your clit, never quite touching it, and you bury your fingers in her hair and gently pull on it. Her eyes flick up to yours as a warning and you loosen your grip. Agatha gives you an almost imperceptible nod and rewards you with one long lick to your clit and your head falls back. 

You can no longer hold yourself up when she thrusts her tongue inside you, and you fall back onto the bed, instantly clenching around you. She feels so fucking good, her tongue curling inside your cunt and her nose brushing against your clit, and you angle a leg up on the bed so she can reach deeper inside you. “God, yes,” you sigh, and your orgasm is slowly starting to build up with each roll of your hips and each time your stomach tightens. 

But something is missing — you can’t help your thoughts from straying and you just need more. 

So you stop her and she looks up at you, the entire bottom half of her face and nose absolutely covered with you. Your clit throbs and you sit up.

“I need — I want — wanna taste you too, Aggie,” you whine and you’ve never used that nickname before, but you think she likes it because she lunges up, capturing your lips with hers again, and knocking you straight back onto the bed. 

She nods while still kissing you, whispering, “Fuck, honey, how are you so hot? How are you so perfect for me?” 

You clench around nothing and you claw at her shoulder blades frantically, knowing what you need but not how to ask for it. 

But Agatha knows — she always knows what you want, except for when it really counts apparently. She gets off of you and scooches on her knees until she’s situated behind your head, facing your body. And then she moves to frame your face with her thighs, her glistening cunt hovering right above your face, and she bends over to pry your legs open before leaning down and sucking on your clit roughly. 

You squirm and palm her ass to pull her down to your mouth, and at your first lick through her folds, she moans right into you, the vibrations making you jump. Eating her out while also being eaten out is an experience like no other you’ve ever had. Every single thing you do to her affects her, which in turn, affects you. 

The positive feedback loop has both of you sloppily mouthing at each other’s cunts, mimicking motions while also losing all sense of rhythm, and when she digs her fingernails into your thighs and scrapes her teeth against your clit, you let out a high-pitched sound that has her riding your face furiously. 

Agatha is getting louder too — you can feel it more than hear it, and you are completely drunk on her smell and her taste and how good she’s making you feel. You dip your tongue into her entrance, stroking against her convulsing walls before swirling around her clit and she pauses what she’s doing for a moment to just breathe heavily against your pussy before diving back in. 

All thoughts of anything else are completely out of your foggy mind and you feel like you’re floating, not able to focus on anything else besides Agatha. 

If you would’ve known that your dad having an affair would have led to you having the hottest sex with the hottest woman ever, you definitely wouldn’t have been so mad about it. 

“Oh, god, baby, you’re so good,” she says into your cunt and it only makes you grind up harder. She matches your intensity, riding your face fast, her clit dragging against your tongue. You groan in agreement and her stomach glides against your nipples while hers do the same and you know that it won’t be long before either of you cum. 

She nips at your inner thigh before plunging her tongue inside you and it has your hips bucking. “Fuck — Agatha,” you cry, barely able to keep eating her out because of how stimulated you are. Pleasure is racing through every ridge of your body and your head is spinning. 

“That’s right, honey,” she pants, lathering her tongue all over your clit. “Cum for me.” 

The tension inside you snaps and you cum, riding out the immense wave as she continues lapping at you and you suck on her clit, triggering her own orgasm. There’s a gush of wetness all over your face and she keeps rolling her hips, chasing the last tendrils. 

That was one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, you think, and when Agatha flops down onto the bed next to you, breathing heavily, you think she might agree. 

“Fuck,” you say, completely wiped out, and Agatha chuckles weakly in response, reaching a hand out to rest her fingers against yours, not quite interlocking them. The two of you lay like that for what feels like forever, just soaking in the silence and the comfort of being right next to each other. 

You’re not sure who moves first — maybe it’s a mutual decision, but eventually you slide up to the pillows and Agatha turns around and moves next to you. Rotating onto your side, you hear the sheets rustle behind you and right on cue, Agatha’s arm snakes around you, holding you close enough to her that you can feel her heartbeat against your back and her breath on your neck. 

She kisses the top of your ear and you snuggle back against her. You know that you should put on clothes and clean up your mess, but for right now, you just need to feel her against you. 

“We’re going to be okay?” you ask timidly. It seems like it was so long ago that you were spiraling out of control because you thought she was cheating. 

Agatha’s arm tightens around yours. “We’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.” 

And you think you might actually believe her. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @vyvvycg

[scoupsakakitty]

Please Don‘t Leave Me | idol!Mingyu x Reader | angst

The sound of the rain pelting against the windows filled the silent apartment, each drop echoing the turmoil in y/n’s heart. Her hands trembled as she shoved another piece of clothing into her suitcase, her vision blurred by unshed tears.

"Don’t leave me. Please. I’m begging you y/n." Mingyu’s voice cracked as he stood behind her, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His eyes, glossy with desperation, fixated on her every movement as if he could will her to stop.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the pain in his voice. "Mingyu, I can’t… I can’t do this anymore." Her voice cracked, the weight of her words sinking in as soon as they left her lips. "I love you, but this… this isn’t a life. It’s a secret. A painful, exhausting secret."

"Then let’s change it. Let’s fix it. Just—just don’t go." He reached out, grabbing her wrist as she tried to zip up the suitcase. His hand was warm, shaking. “I’ll talk to the company. I swear, y/n, I will. I’ll make it public. I’ll—”

“You think it’s just about that?” She pulled away, stepping back as her heart shattered at the sight of his tear-streaked face. “It’s not just about hiding, Mingyu. It’s the sasaengs, the threats, the way they call me, show up at my university. The way I can’t even breathe without feeling like I’m being watched.”

His grip on her wrist tightened, his tears falling freely now. “I know it’s hard, I know it’s unfair, but please—don’t walk away from us.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "You don’t understand, do you? It kills me when I have to pretend I don’t know you in public. When we’re at a restaurant and the second a fan walks in, I have to act like you’re a stranger. When we walk down the street and I can’t even hold your hand, when I have to watch you suffer alone because if I even look at you too long, someone will notice."

Her lips quivered, her entire body trembling. "I can't even go out without wearing a cap, a mask, sunglasses—always looking over my shoulder, always afraid someone will recognize me as the girl who’s been seen too close to Kim Mingyu. I can't even call you when I need you because you're always gone. Always busy. Always traveling. I understand that it’s your dream, and I never wanted to take that from you. But what about me, Mingyu? What about my life?"

Mingyu ran a hand through his damp hair, his chest heaving. "I never wanted this to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like this."

She turned away from him, trying to steady herself. "I know that. But knowing it doesn’t make it hurt any less."

The rain outside grew stronger, wind howling through the city, but inside, the only sound was Mingyu’s broken sobs.

He fell to his knees in front of her, grabbing her hands and pressing them against his chest. His heart was racing, pounding beneath her touch. “Feel that?” His voice was hoarse, his eyes searching hers frantically. “This beats for you. It always has, and it always will.”

Her tears finally fell, hot and relentless. “Mingyu…”

“I will do anything,” he whispered, his grip tightening as if he could physically stop her from slipping away. “I’ll leave the industry if I have to. I’ll disappear from the spotlight. I just need you, y/n. I can’t—” his breath hitched, a strangled sob escaping, “I can’t be without you.”

She was crying too hard to respond. Her chest ached with every breath, her entire body screaming at her to stay, to believe his words, to hold onto him like he was holding onto her.

But the exhaustion weighed too heavy.

She reached out, cupping his face, her fingers brushing against his tear-streaked cheeks. "You’ll be okay," she whispered, though she wasn’t sure if she was saying it for him or herself.

Mingyu shook his head violently, pressing a desperate kiss against her palm. "No, I won’t. Not without you."

She inhaled shakily, forcing herself to take a step back. Then another. And another.

As she reached the door, her hand barely touching the handle, she heard him move. Fast. Within seconds, he was behind her, his presence overwhelming. With one swift motion, he pushed the door closed, his palm flat against the wood as he trapped her between him and the exit.

"Please don’t leave me," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, shaking with emotion. "You are the only person who treats me well and brings me genuine happiness. You're breaking my heart right now. Be mean to me, treat me like shit—I don’t care, as long as you stay with me. I'll lose myself if you leave me. I love you more than anything. Please, y/n I need you."

His forehead pressed against her shoulder, his sobs racking through his body. He was holding onto her like she was the only thing keeping him afloat.

y/n swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart breaking for the both of them. Slowly, she turned to face him, her fingers ghosting over his trembling ones.

"I love you, Mingyu," she whispered, watching as a flicker of hope flashed through his devastated expression. "But I already lost myself. I'm not happy, please try to understand me. I need to find myself to keep loving you. See it as a break, not a break-up. Give me time."

His lips parted, his breath shaky. “No please, y/n…”

She cupped his cheek one last time, her thumb wiping away a tear that immediately got replaced by another. Then, with every ounce of strength she had left, she turned, opened the door, and stepped into the night.

The last thing she heard before the door fell shut behind her was a broken, shattered "I love you" and the sound of Mingyu crying, his sobs blending into the relentless storm outside.

And just like that, she was gone.

[stupid-autistic-rat]

Answering these cuz' i' m bored :'] ( I MISS MY WIFEEE RJFMNED )

Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

Therianthropy ! 🐾

What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

I am a Mexican wolf , at least I think that' s my breed , not too sure

Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

I do , I just realised how they fly right by my head tho T-T my most common one would prolly be mental shifts. I haven' t had many cameo shifts , only a few times where I felt more fox like or different breeds of my kind

How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

Uhhh i' m not too aware of that tbh , I just kinda do what I do. Just a wolf in the world. Ig it kinda affects me when I make decisions or state my opinion which is usually noticeably different from human opinions or decisions.

What do you think of the community?

Everyone is really nice and awesome !! 💪 working on a server rn so we can all interact :P

What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

Not too sure , just kinda chilling in my den makes me feel good. Idk how to explain how I feel too much. Maybe gear would make me feel more euphoric but I don' t need too much to prove to myself who I am. COMFORTABILITY tho I label differently. Meeting others like me makes me more comfortable since i' m around humans 24/7 ( idm but sometimes I just need to be around my kind ) . I also don' t like being forced to do a lot of human things or eat like them so meat and berries keep me more comfortable , but my parents buy a lot of shitty meat :/

Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

Not really tbh , I just kinda am chilling as a wolf stuck in some human body , I don' t give much thought about it , I' m just me

What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

Hmmm .. ig just don' t let others get in your head , people who don' t understand what you experience often shit on it cuz' they don' t have the knowledge to understand it. I' ve noticed that in people. You ARE who you are , and you feel things for a REASON. Good luck my goat

Do you have/want to have gears?

I actually would like gears , these masks look super awesome. I' m gonna collect materials to make one. I just need to draw out what I want. I would also like a tail just for comfortability and claws to help me better. Human nails SUCK.

Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

Not too sure. Pretty much was born like this ig , nothing really influenced it. Unless you mean signs or stuff from childhood. I was always super interested in my kind and interacting with related kind ( like dogs ) , and felt perfectly comfortable just existing as one of my kind , which other kids would just believe I was playing "" pretend "" , which I didn' t understand much about cuz' i' m autistic. Never changed , even as I continued to get older.

Uhhh ty for reading >:P

These were fun to answer , I LOVE QUESTIONS !!

If you are an alter/nonhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[marauder-misprint]

Hello!! I’m your new follower and honestly your fics are so good 🥺 I love the “these damn stairs” one and I wonder if u could write part 2 because shy reader and gentle super friendly Remus trope is the best heh.

Thank youuu for following ❤︎

Here is part 2 to 'These damn stairs' and there will be a part 3 because I can't just let it end here :) Might be a few days before I'm able to post part 3 because I got some really good requests in my inbox that I want to get to!

'It's a date'

Remus Lupin x reader

2.2k words

cw: fluff

Talking to Remus still felt like you had the eyes of the school on you. This meant that it was Remus who talked first. You would give him a small smile or a wave when you passed him on your way to a different class, but it was always him who came up to your desk before or after a class you had together. It was him who still came to sit with you at lunch; your friends warmed up to him quickly and proceeded to tease you about him when he was gone. 

You continued to study with him too. He’d wait for you outside the library before walking with you back to the small table from that first study session. With every passing day, you slowly began to be more comfortable in his presence. You were able to hold a conversation with him. It was a slow growing friendship, but it was growing. 

“You’re sure you don’t mind studying with just me?” you had asked once, worrying that he missed all of the attention that he used to get in the library because he was smart and nice. 

He just smiled at you, leaning toward you to say, “I really don’t mind. I’d rather work with you over anyone else.” 

That left you blushing for the rest of your time in the library that evening. Remus always knew what to say to get that blush to reappear. More often than not, you would leave your encounters with Remus with a pink face and racing heart. 

You were thrown off when you showed up to study with Remus on Saturday and he wasn’t waiting for you outside the library. You considered waiting for him to show up but decided to check inside just in case. You found him sitting at a larger table with his friends. There were open chairs on either side of him with the other three boys on the opposite side of the table. The sight sent your mind spinning as you tried to remember the conversation when you discussed studying today. You didn’t recall him mentioning the rest of the Marauders would be there. Plans must’ve changed. 

You headed toward a different table, your usual before you started sitting with Remus. You didn’t want to interrupt their “Marauders Study Session.” 

However, as soon as he saw you, Remus called you over.

“You know James, Peter, Sirius, yeah? Hope you don’t mind they came today. I’m afraid they need the extra push to get stuff done.”

You do mind but god forbid you say something and make a scene. So you nodded and sat down next to Remus. You attempted to keep your things more consolidated than you usually do. You didn’t want to encroach on Peter’s or Sirius’ space. It took you longer to fall into your studying groove with the entirety of the Marauders at the same table as you; you’re positive that anyone and everyone passing by is confused by it. You felt like an outsider intruding on something sacred. It didn’t help that every time you looked up, you swore at least one of them was looking at you or Remus. You’re a bit uncomfortable. It’s not like you’ve ever really talked to any of them. 

“So, erm, how long has this been a thing?” Peter asked after you caught your eye from across the table. 

A thing? What on earth did that boy mean?

“Excuse me?” 

“We’ve been studying together for a little over two weeks,” Remus said, shooting you a quick smile.

Oh That’s all.

Remus’ answer made the question make more sense. You supposed it was a thing that Remus was studying with one person rather than a herd of girls and essentially playing teacher. You berated yourself for thinking that Peter had meant something more. 

“Right, studying,” Sirius said with a smirk. 

Nope. What?

You pursed your lips together and train your eyes on your assignment. That is what you had been doing with Remus. That’s all you’ve been doing.

“Shut it, Padfoot,” Remus warned. 

He glared at his friends. He had warned them ahead of time to be nice to you, to try not to scare you off. He knows you are shy and more reserved. He didn’t want to cancel studying with you so that his nimrod friends didn’t fall behind on their own assignments. But now, he was beginning to regret inviting them. 

Remus reached for a small scrap of parchment and scribbled on it, “Don’t worry about them” before sliding it into your view. You took notice of it and nodded. He lowered his head to get into your view as well. He raised his eyebrows as if asking that you’re okay. You drew a simple smiley face on the parchment. He nodded and returned to his own assignment. With both of your heads bowed in focus, you missed the shared look between the other three boys. You were able to get some work done. The lingering feeling of eyes on you was impossible to shake. You tried to think of a reason why they would be so interested in you, but you kept coming up short. Well, not completely. You had ideas, but each seemed more ridiculous than the last and one was just downright hopeful. 

“Is it true you started talking because you got your foot stuck in that damn step?” James asked as he closed a book he was using for his Herbology assignment.

“Prongs!” Remus hissed as your face turned beet red. 

“Uh, I guess?” you said meekly. 

You tried not to think about that embarrassing day, even if it did lead to your first real interaction with Remus. It wasn’t a moment you wanted to relive. 

“Must’ve been some fall though,” James continued, despite the glared daggers from Remus. “Certainly got our boy’s attention.”

Remus’ face was beginning to turn red as well at this point. He really, really wanted James to stop talking; it was at the point where he was debating Silencio. 

“Oh? What… what do you mean?” you asked, biting the inside of your cheek. 

Sirius snorted a laugh. “Sweetheart, you should hear how much he talks about you.” 

Your eyes went wide. You weren’t sure what you had expected but it wasn’t that. It took a second for the words to fully sink in. Remus talked… about you? Often? With enough frequency that his friends made note of it? Is that why it felt like they kept staring at you? They were just trying to figure out what Remus found so intriguing about you? 

You turned to see Remus holding his head in his hands. You gently placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Remus?” 

A horrible thought crossed your mind: What if this was all just a prank on you and Remus was collateral? What if he didn’t actually talk about you and now he’d have to admit that? 

He ran his hands through his hair before looking at you. His face was bright red, highlighting each scar that ran across his nose and cheeks brilliantly. 

“Can we talk privately? Before I murder these gits?” he asked you in a low voice with pleading eyes. 

“Yeah. Yeah,” you breathed, standing up and waiting to follow Remus through the shelves.

He led you further than you would’ve expected from the table. You assumed that he really didn’t want the boys overhearing whatever you were going to talk about. With each step, you felt your heart rate increase. Maybe he thought you were going to cry at what he was going to say and didn’t want to do that near them. 

“I think we’re far enough. No hearing extension charm they’re capable of reaches this far,” he said, leaning back against the wall with some kind of effortless allure. 

“Are you okay?” you asked. 

You stood a few steps away from him. If something was going to go down, you wanted to have some space between you. 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I’m fine,” he said as he watched you with cautious eyes. “Usually their teasing doesn’t get to me this bad.” He let out an awkward chuckle. 

“Are they teasing you about being friends with me?” you asked, your chest filling with dread. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself to brace for the worst. Remus was popular. He was so well-liked. He was so good with people. And you liked to stay out of the spotlight. Some people thought you were a little standoffish, but so be it. You could see where his friends were coming from. 

Suddenly, you felt hands on your shoulders. And you looked up to see Remus’ warm eyes. 

“They are teasing me about being just friends with you,” he said softly. 

You rolled your lips against each other. What did he mean by that? Just friends? 

“Because I do talk about you a lot. I practically only study with you. I go out of my way to cross paths with you so I can see your smile. I hope this doesn’t sound creepy, but I stare at you from across the Great Hall when I don’t sit next to you.” He paused for a moment to see if you had any reaction yet. “And this is going to sound mean, but I’m so glad you fell on those stairs. It brought you into my life.” He waited again. “Please say something, love.” 

“Okay,” you said as your cheeks tinged pink. “So they aren’t making fun of me? This isn’t some kind of prank?” 

“No. It’s not a prank. The only one being made fun of is me because I wanted to wait longer.”

“Wait longer for what?” 

“Listen. I meant it when I said you are pretty. I meant it when I said I don’t want to study with anyone else. I mean it when I say I can’t get you out of my head. I just wanted to wait longer to be sure… sure that you’d say yes. Sure that you like me.” 

You tilted your head.

“Of course I like you, Remus.”

“But as more than friends? Would you be willing to go on a date with me?”

Your breath hitched. Had Remus just said a bunch of sweet things about you? Yes, and it made your face feel hot. But it was the question that really sealed the deal. He wanted to be sure that you’d say yes. 

“I’d really like that.” You broke into a wide smile. “You thought I wouldn’t say yes?” 

Remus let out the breath he was holding and mirrored your smile. He pulled you into a tight hug before answering. 

“I’ve wanted to ask you out since the first time we studied together. I didn’t want to move too fast. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to jump you or something.” 

You laughed into his chest and he slowly let you go. 

“So all of that back there, that was them being tired of listening to you pine?” you asked.

“Seems like it. I told them to be nice to you, but I guess I didn’t tell them to be nice to me.”

“I mean, I’d say it was pretty nice of them to get you a date,” you said teasingly.

“I’m still the one who asked!” he tried to defend himself.

You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Yeah, but would you have asked if they weren’t here?”

“Not today, no. Maybe in another week or so. I told you, I was waiting to be sure.”

“For a smart bloke, you really should’ve known that if you asked me out on the stairs, I would’ve said yes.”

“Wait, what?” He looked down at you in surprise. 

“Merlin, I’ve had a crush on you for a while. It’s part of what made falling into the stair so mortifying.”

“Those damn stairs, right?” he chuckled as you started walking back to the table. Then he cleared his throat. “So, Hogsmeade next weekend?”

“It’s a date.” 

The three boys were working when you returned. When they looked up, they had matching looks of anticipation on their faces. Neither of you said anything as you sat down and started to work. Without speaking, you seemed to agree that you weren’t going to say anything unless they asked. 

“So?” Peter asked. “Did Remus grow a pair?” 

“Always had a pair, Peter,” Remus said dryly. 

“Moony,” he whined before turning his attention to you. “Did he… you know?”

“Well, she might not know. Because if he didn’t, how would she know?” Sirius said. 

You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head. 

“What if he did and she said no? That’d be something,” James mused. “Although I don’t think they’d be so… content? Peaceful? Somber? Pleased-looking?”

“But wouldn’t they both look much happier if he asked and she said yes?” Peter asked.

“Oi! We are right here,” Remus interjected. “I asked. She said yes. You are to stay away from us in Hogsmeade. Now, work. I want to see finished essays.”

“Our boy became a man!” Sirius said, wiping an invisible tear from his eye. “We’re so proud of you.”

“Padfoot. Essay. Now,” Remus commanded before shooting you a wide grin. 

You could tell that he was pretty proud of himself too. 

tags: @allformoony, @oursweetmoony, @moonyswifee

[starmatzz]

Hiiiii

I NEED a smut inspired by the song "Let the world burn" and that new trending audio "loveyouloveyouloveyou" on dom yunho

IT SCREAMS CRAZYYYY

and maybe not jump into action right away a lil foreplay would be GREAT 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣

Let The World Burn

classmate!yunho x fem!reader | smut, 1.8k

nsfw tags dom/sub, vaginal sex, pet names, violence, death, possessive, stalking, ropes, bondage, orgasm, penetration, touching

You woke up on a cold, unforgiving floor. A dull ache pulsed through your body as you tried to move, but your arms wouldn’t budge—they were tightly bound. Panic rose in your chest as your mind struggled to piece together what had happened. The last thing you remembered was running.

Running through a dark alley.

Running from someone.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

A deep voice emerged from the shadows before the figure stepped forward. It was him.

Jeong Yunho—your classmate. The one you had caught staring at you far too often in class. The one who always seemed to be watching. And every time a guy showed interest in you, they mysteriously stopped coming to school the next day. Or came injured. 

Now you knew why.

Yunho’s eyes lingered on your face, his lips curling into a smile—one that sent a chill down your spine.

“I never wanted things to turn out this way,” he murmured, tilting his head. “But you left me no choice.”

It's dangerous 'cause I want it all

And I don't think I care what it costs

I shouldn't have fallen in love

Look what it made me become

His voice softened, almost gentle. “You love me, y/n. We belong together—you just don’t see it yet.”

Then, his smile widened, dark and unhinged. “But that’s okay. You’re here now. You can’t run anymore.” He took a slow step closer. “And I’ll make you understand.”

And I know you think you can run

You're scared to believe I'm the one

But I just can't let you go

“So… beautiful.”

His hands trembled as he reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t recoil—not with the ropes biting into your skin.

“Oh, almost forgot.”

Yunho suddenly pulled away, flashing you a smile before disappearing into the shadows. The moment he left, everything clicked. From the anonymous notes that kept appearing on your doorstep, through the unsettling feeling of being watched, to your underwear disappearing from the changing room after sports class while you were showering. 

It had all been him.

Before you could process it any further, Yunho returned—this time dragging someone with him. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Remember Yeosang?” he asked, his voice almost casual, as if discussing the weather. “He asked you to prom.”

Your stomach twisted as you took in the sight before you. Yeosang—bruised, bound, with tape covering his mouth—struggled against Yunho’s grip, his eyes wide with terror.

Yunho only smiled.

Fear in their eyes

Ash raining from the blood orange sky

I let everybody know that you're mine

Now it's just a matter of time

Without warning, Yunho pulled out a knife, the blade glinting under the dim light. Before you could react, he pressed it against Yeosang’s neck, his grip unyielding.

“No one can have you,” he growled, his voice laced with possessive fury. “Only me.”

Then, in one smooth motion, he dragged the blade across Yeosang’s throat.

A sickening sound filled the air—a wet, gurgling choke as Yeosang’s body convulsed. His wide, pleading eyes met yours for a fleeting second before the life drained from them. Blood spilled down his chest, soaking his shirt, pooling at his feet.

Yunho let him go, and his body crumpled to the floor with a dull thud.

You couldn’t breathe. The room spun.

But Yunho? He simply wiped the blade clean, turning back to you with that same twisted smile.

I'd let the world burn

Let the world burn for you

This is how it always had to end

If I can't have you then no one can

Yunho let the bloodied knife fall to the floor with a soft clang, his focus shifting entirely to you. Slowly, he stepped forward, closing the distance before kneeling beside you.

His hand reached out, his thumb brushing over your trembling bottom lip. The touch was gentle—almost tender—yet it sent a wave of dread coursing through your veins.

“P-Please… don’t hurt me,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a breath.

Yunho’s expression flickered, his brows knitting together as if your words had wounded him. Then, he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

“Hurt you?” he repeated, his tone almost incredulous. “Darling, I would never.”

He tilted his head, his dark eyes searching yours. “How could I? You mean everything to me.”

As if to prove his point, he cupped your cheek, his touch featherlight. But no matter how softly he spoke, no matter how tender his caress seemed, the blood still stained his hands.

Yunho's palm slid down to cup your breast through the thin fabric of your pink shirt, his touch possessive and sure. Raw desire blazed in his eyes as he watched you, like a predator who had finally cornered its prey. Your breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze.

“You're so beautiful,” he growled, squeezing your breast until you gasped. His hand traveled lower, trailing fire across your stomach before finding the hem of your skirt. His fingers teased along your thigh, making promises his touch would soon fulfill.

“So pretty..my pretty girl, all mine,” he murmured into your hair, his breath warm against your scalp. One hand held you firmly, fingers tangled in your hair, while the other remained poised, as if daring you to challenge his claim. 

His hand ventured beneath your skirt, but you reacted swiftly, clamping your legs together and bending your knee to kick him in the stomach.

"Don't you dare touch me," you warned, your voice steady and firm despite the adrenaline coursing through you. Yunho's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and something else flickering in their depths. 

Yunho huffed, clutching his stomach as he stumbled back, surprise etched across his features. But the shock quickly morphed into anger, and his eyes darkened, a storm brewing within them. The air between you crackled with tension, his fury palpable as he regained his footing, the predator in him reawakened.

“I wanted to make it nice for the both of us,” he growled, rolling up the sleeves of his button up, “but you're not leaving me with any other alternative.”

With that, he took steps forward, pushing up the fabric of your skirt before ripping your panties in one swift motion. 

“Whore..” He mumbled under his breath, his breathing growing heavier as his fingers fumbled in his pocket. You barely had time to react before he pulled out a roll of black tape, his hands shaking slightly—whether from excitement or something more unhinged, you couldn’t tell.

With an eerie sort of patience, he tore off a strip, the sharp rip of adhesive filling the tense silence.

He grinned, pressing the tape firmly over your lips. His touch lingered for a second, as if savoring the way your breath hitched beneath his fingertips.

Your muffled whimper was the only sound you could make now. Panic surged through you, your body twisting instinctively against the ropes, but it was useless.

He shouted directly at you, his finger jabbing towards Yeosang's motionless form on the ground, exclaiming, “What do the other guys have that I lack?!”

He forced himself between your legs, before grasping your bound arms and securing them above your head, unzipping his jeans.

“Fuck, you're all pink down there,” he exhaled, his eyes focused on your private part, “It's a pity I'm going to ruin this pretty cunt right now.”

He didn't hesitate for a moment; he pushed in immediately. You whimpered over the tape as the pressure and burning sensation overwhelmed you, and you instinctively tried to squirm away.

Yunho groaned. The warmth and wetness of your pussy was driving him insane. He proceeded, his long fingers grabbing your hips in a bruising grip as he set a steady rhythm. 

He pounded into you, his gaze locked onto your face, drinking in every trace of fear.

You couldn’t bear it—the pain was unbearable. Strands of hair clung to your damp skin as your body trembled, shaken by both agony and fear. 

“Love you, love you… I love you so much,” he babbled, his words tumbling out in a desperate rush, as if trying to make you understand the depth of his obsession.

Nails dug into your palms as Yunho refused to stop, his hands pressing firmly against your shoulders. He grabbed you tightly, fucking deep into you. You could feel the tip of his cock hit your cervix, causing a piercing pain to wash all over your body. 

“Did it hurt?” he cooed, his voice laced with mock sympathy because repeating the same movement over and over. 

“You’re mine, y/n. Finally mine,” he murmured, his voice filled with possession. “See? We fit perfectly together.”

He looked down, watching his cock disappear in your pussy. The way you stretched around him, how you cried and whimpered, it was all his fuel. Keeping his gaze on your face as he moved his hands from your shoulders, he gently cradled your breasts, squeezing them. 

Yunho continued fucking into you, curses and moans escaping his lips. He leaned closer, sucking and biting the soft skin on your neck, below your ear and over your collarbone. 

“Oh god..I'm close..” he whimpered, his eyebrows pulling in in taunt as his thrusts have become twitchy. Your sweet scent enveloped him, sending a dizzying rush through his body, as if every nerve was awakened at once, leaving him lightheaded and lost in the intoxicating fragrance of you.

His large hand slid up your thigh, his grip tightening as he squeezed. “Fuck, look how deep I am in your pretty cunt...” he breathed out, massaging the bulge in your abdomen. 

You laid there, motionless, waiting for him to finish, the stillness pressing down on you.

“Your eyes are mesmerizing,” he murmured, leaning in, his fingers softly brushing the hair from your face. “I wish I could see you look at me like this every day.”

He slowly withdrew, his cock rubbing against your velvety walls, before forcefully slamming back in. You cried out, the sound muffled by the tape, as your hands shook uncontrollably from the excruciating pain, each tremor making the ache feel even more unbearable.

“Ah..fuck!” Yunho suddenly groaned, staying buried deep inside you. His hips twitches as he came hard, filling you up. 

“So pretty…” he mumbled, his breath shallow as he struggled to regain control, his gaze never leaving you. He pulled out, watching the strings of thick cum connecting his tip and your pulsating slit. 

Suddenly he pushed back in, rolling his hips in circles as he continued fucking you through his orgasm. “Don’t think we’re over, princess,” he smirked, his eyes glinting as he watched the fear spread across your face. Your eyes widened in realization, and deep down, you knew he wasn’t going to let you go anytime soon.

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 10 - vulnerability

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language, fluff central

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you and rafe had spent the whole afternoon together and it had been everything and more. just like he had promised the other week, he was showing you around LA and never leaving your side.

the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange as you walked along venice beach, his fingers brushing against yours in a way that made your heart race.

"you know," rafe said with a smile, glancing over at you, "i’m glad we’re doing this. not just the tour thing, but... you and me, this."

his words hit differently now, sitting down on the beach to watch the gentle waves and the sky change colours.

you looked over at him, "me too," you said softly, a smile tugging at your lips.

he grinned back, his playful energy still present, but a hint of seriousness took over him. "i've never done this before." he admitted.

"done what?" you asked him.

"caught feelings like this." he spoke softly, almost scared to say the words out loud.

you reached out to touch his cheek, "me neither rafe." you held his gaze, "there's still so much we have to learn about each other."

"i know, and that's what i'm scared of."

"why?" you questioned.

"i'm scared you won't like the version of me you uncover. i'm not good with my words but, i didn't used to be a good person. i was addicted to drugs, i bought girls home every night to fill a void, i was so unhappy and treated people so badly. but this," he stuck his hands out and pointed between the two of you, "i've never experienced this."

his truth taking you by surprise, but making your heart swell that he was opening up to you this way. "i'm not scared rafe. the rafe i know now is a good guy. i've never met someone like you and i want to know all parts of you even those that you think i won't like."

rafe let out a soft, almost shaky breath at your words. it was as if you had taken a weight off his shoulders without even realising it. his eyes softened, and the air between you two stilled for a moment.

his eyes didn't leave yours, no response was needed, but he pulled you in for a soft kiss full of emotion.

he pulled away to stare at you for a moment, searching your face for any sign of doubt, but there was none.

"i’ve been thinking about you a lot," he admitted, almost too quietly. "more than i thought i would. i know we’re still figuring things out, but i can’t help but want to be around you. want to be better because of you."

your heart fluttered at the honesty in his words, the vulnerability making you weak, all laid out in front you.

"rafe, you’re already better. you’ve made it this far and the fact that you're here with me, saying this stuff, shows me just how far you've come. you don’t have to prove anything."

his lips parted as if he was going to say something, but instead, he just smiled. without another word, he reached out, carefully taking your hand into his, the touch gentle, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

after many hours had passed of gentle touches and soft conversation, you headed back to the hotel in time to join the others and pack before your flight back home tomorrow.

your chest was full of happiness, feeling ready for what was to come.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: why am i crying writing this they are so cute i hate them

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation @chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover @yesshewrites1 @amterasuu@babykhloutofthisworld @blushmimi  @moonywhisp3rs @rafeysworldim19 @marleymarleymarleymarley @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @vcnillafairy @bambii1i @sammyrenae68

i will be taking people off taglist if that don't interact! just as more people want to be added and need to make it fair<3

[frostyhelltime]

Can I request Husk, Vox, Alastor with reader who drunkenly cofess their love to them? I adore drunk confessions!

I am back from the dead!

I am happy to be back and writing though. Hope everyone is doing well!

Characters listed: Alastor, Vox, Husk.

Warnings: None.

Husk

Honestly…it feels almost inevitable that you would drunkenly confess to Husk. The main times you got drunk were around him after all.

Didn't make you feel any less embarrassed, of course.

But as for Husk he's just…confused at first.

He looks around to see who it was you were actually trying to confess to.

It doesn't occur to him that it is, in fact, him.

His gut reaction is to deny, to push you away.

Tell you you don't even know what you're saying, trying to brush your confession off.

But you are very adamant and it eventually sinks in that drunk or not, you meant what you said.

He's very flustered as he tries to help you to bed, his heart pounding as your words replay in his head.

He promises to talk to you about it in the morning when you're sober.

But you end up having to bring it up first when morning comes.

Part of him is afraid that you hadn't really meant it, and he would have felt foolish asking.

“For a bartender you’re shit at reading signals.” You slur, leaning over the bar with a foolishly excited grin on your face. Said bartender laughs and shakes his head. “How did you come to that conclusion? I read everyone right.” He teases with a raised brow, but your reaction is almost immediate, a scoff as you lean back, holding onto the edge of the bar to keep yourself from falling.

“You can’t be that great because you never once clocked that I have feelings for you.” You drunkenly roll your eyes as you pull yourself back to the bar to smile at him, only vaguely aware of what you’ve confessed. But Husk is more than aware, his eyes blinking rapidly as if that would somehow make what you said make any more sense. Maybe…he turns around, looking at the rest of the bar as if there had been some secret person hidden in a corner you were actually talking to. Perhaps a hidden camera? A prank?

“I mean I was just joking but…you really didn’t know? I really thought you knew.” You laugh, curling your drink closer to your chest and laughing more, not noticing the slight crestfallen look on Husk’s face at first.

“Joking about the reading thing. Not the feelings thing. I really thought you knew, you just couldn’t figure out how to let me down easy.” You chuckle again, taking another sip. 

He’s quick to shake his head, narrowing his eyes as he looks you over for any sign of deceit.

“You clearly have had too much. I’m cutting you off and getting you to bed. You don’t have any idea what you’re saying.” He shakes his head again, huffing as he rubs his temple, desperately trying to fight the building hope he feels.

“Drunk thoughts are sober words! Oh wait. No. It goes….Drunk words are sober thoughts? I think?” You mumble as he crosses the threshold and slings one of your arms over his shoulder as he helps you to your room.

“You really don’t believe me?” You sound much more aggravated than he expected.

“My words won’t change in the morning. Perhaps I’ll be a bit more embarrassed about how honest I was. But they’ll still be my words.” 

You were so focused on putting your words together you didn’t realize how quickly you had reached your door.

How odd.

The next thing you actually remember is the sun shining through your window, painfully so as you groan and roll over away from the light. You’re too hungover to even really startle when you hear a chuckle in your room, but you crack an eye open enough to see it’s just Husk in a chair by your bedside, medicine and water in hand.

“Thought you might need this.”

You look at it a moment before sighing and sloppily grabbing for it, drinking the water down as well with the medicine.

“I still mean it. That I have feelings for you, by the way. If you don’t believe me, ask Angel how many times he and I have talked about ways to make you notice me.” You manage to get out before rolling over and curling up into your covers again.

Which is for the better, Husk thinks. He certainly knows he doesn’t want you to see the startled look on his face, the way his ears twitch in confusion and excitement, or the way his tail swishes about from a happiness he hadn’t dared to let himself dream of.

Vox

It starts with you two drunkenly insulting each other for fun.

No harm, no foul. There's very little off limits for you two, and you both know which touchy subjects to avoid.

Plus, most people were too afraid of Vox to insult him to his face, so it was a refreshing and silly change when you two did this.

But then your insults…change, and it's weirdly both complimentary and insulting.

At first he thinks you're joking, but then he realizes you're actually upset and then he's even more confused.

He hadn’t said anything that should have actually made you angry.

But then he realizes…you seem mad at…yourself?

He’s about to ask what the hell is wrong with you when he hears the…admittedly…backwards sounding confession, both insulting and praising him all at once.

“You have that fake charismatic smile plastered on your face all the time! I’m surprised the image isn’t burned into your screen!” You laugh, shortly before he joins in.

“Least I’m not dumb enough to see a feather duster and mistake it for Val’s feather! Imagine, me startled by a feather duster, I could never.” Vox is laughing, and even though that has happened to him as well, he certainly won’t admit to it.

“Hey! It had the exact same coloration! Not my fault! Least I’m not too stupid to realize when someone has a crush on me!” You scoff, and he laughs at first before looking confused.

“Nah, that’s not a good insult. I am very aware of my secretary’s crush on me. I don’t give a shit.” He raises a brow, looking at you. You’re backpedaling almost immediately, not realizing how easily you had given yourself away. You’re already beginning to mentally curse yourself for making such a foolish slip up.

But Vox’s expression changes from confused to the same type of predatory he gets when he knows he has a sale in the bag.

“Unless…? You meant someone else had a crush on me that I wasn’t aware of?” He hums nonchalantly, leaning across the table and laying his screen into his hand as he looks at you. You only seem to fluster more, looking around for any possible distraction or way out, but your attention is brought back by the sound of his claws rapping against the table in impatience, that stupid smug smile still on his face.

“....M-Maybe…” You mumble, looking down and away now, but the hand making noise against the table stops almost immediately and cups your chin, pulling you to look at him. No hiding.

“Perhaps I can fix that then? The not realizing someone has a crush on me bit?” He teases, and there is something both dastardly mischievous and honest in his next words.

“Besides, you’re just as stupid for not realizing someone has a crush on you back.”

Alastor

It happens after a night of drinking and dancing to jazz.

Well, during, is when it starts.

Both pleasantly drunk on whiskey, you more so than him.

You casually admit it, hardly even aware you’ve confessed.

But he is painfully aware, unsure if you’re genuine or, like every other sinner, attempting to get something out of him.

But you’ve always been so…ridiculously honest and genuine in Charlie’s program. It’s hard to imagine you even saying a white lie, let alone a manipulative one.

He decides to test it in the morning, getting unusually close to you to see your reaction.

Surely if you were simply trying to be manipulative you would be afraid, trying to fool the radio demon himself?

“Oh I love this one! Just one more dance!” You laugh, your grip on his hands tightening. An action that would normally annoy him with others, but with you was almost…pleasant.

“Ah, you know me. How can I ever say no to a Glen Miller song?” He hums, chuckling as he spins you before bringing you close to him again, arm wrapping around your waist a moment in the middle of the energetic and fast paced number.

You lay your head into the crook of his shoulder and grin to yourself.

“My, my, are you losing energy? Already?” Alastor can’t hide the amusement in his voice, nor does he want to as he continues to sway with you to the music.

“Oh no, never. Just…enjoying dancing with my love.” You say it almost absentmindedly, without quite realizing what you’ve said. But even muffled against his lapels, he hears it, and freezes for just a second before continuing his movements.

“Your love? You say?” He asks curiously, eyes almost boring into you as he waits for a response. You tilt your head back just enough to look at him, hands still rested in his.

“My love? Oh. Did I say that out loud? Fuck.” You frown a moment, the pout you wear almost adorable despite how infuriated you were with yourself.

“Language.” He playfully reminds you, spinning you in a way that makes the room spin so much faster than it already was.

“Yeah I speak one.” You slur out, hands gripping onto the lapels of his suit and clinging to him once you’re spun back to him.

But this just makes him laugh, whole heartedly and unabashedly.

“I think it’s time to head back.”

He knows it’s silly to interrogate you in your current state, but still, you babble as he helps you back to the hotel.

“What’s the point of even liking the big bad radio demon? Nothing will come of it.” You laugh, clinging to him as you stumble alongside him.

“Oh? Well I think it depends on how much you like the ‘big bad radio demon’.” He is clearly bemused as he listens to you, still aware enough himself to get you both back safe and sound.

“Like? Love. Romantic feelings. Whatever. I’m sure it’s all unrequited. These lovely dances with you are probably the closest I’ll ever get to that fantasy…” You mumble, sighing to yourself as you finally cross the threshold into the hotel lobby.

The sight of you two practically attached at the hip is nothing new, so barely anyone even bats an eyelash at the sight of it now.

However, unlike previous times he’s helped carry you back, his smile is decidedly strained, deep in thought as he analyzes everything he can about this interaction, and previous ones.

Was this genuine? Highly unlikely. Or was it simply a ploy to gain a favor from him? A loyalty you could utilize and take advantage of?

However in all the time he’s known you…that seemed…unlikely.

Surely you couldn’t have truly meant it? Surely just a silly thought that flitted across your mind as the two of you danced. But still, he helps you to your room, careful to help you into bed, and assuring you he would bring water and medicine in the morning.

When the morning comes and you awaken, you feel a flush come across your face immediately as you remember what you confessed the night before. You groan into your pillow, burying your face in it in a vain attempt to suffocate yourself, but you just hear a familiar and jovial laugh from nearby.

“Oh my dear! That isn’t how you suffocate someone at all!” Alastors laughs, throwing his head back before smiling at you.

You dare to open an eye, looking at him curiously.

“...Do you remember last night?” You ask cautiously, but he just leans closer, until his lips are just a breath away from yours.

“....Do you?”

[csuzlipofa]

Willing to earn it

Daniela x Fem!reader

pt.1

Synopsis: Daniela is willing to do anything for you to trust her again. Will you accept her apology?

slow burn, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, fluff

Warnings: -

Weeks turned into months, but the ache never left. For you, the betrayal lingered like a shadow, refusing to dissipate no matter how much time passed. For Daniela, the guilt gnawed at her every day, an ever-present reminder of her own recklessness.

Her friends tried to move on, though the tension within the group was palpable. Even Megan stopped teasing Daniela, the reality of the fallout having sobered everyone. Sophia tried to smooth things over.

“Dani, you can’t keep beating yourself up,” Sophia said one afternoon as the group gathered at her house again. Daniela sat apart from them, staring at her untouched drink.

“It’s my fault,” Daniela muttered. “I hurt her. I don’t even know how to fix it.”

“You start by giving her space,” Lara offered gently. “You messed up, Dani. Big time. But if she ever forgives you, it’ll be on her terms—not yours.”

Daniela nodded but remained silent. She wasn’t sure she deserved forgiveness.

It was a Friday evening when your paths crossed again. You were at the local park, sketchbook in hand, the fading sunlight casting warm hues over the landscape. Drawing had always been your solace, a way to express the emotions you couldn’t voice.

You didn’t expect anyone to disturb you, least of all Daniela.

“Y/N,” her voice broke the quiet, hesitant but familiar.

You glanced up, your heart sinking at the sight of her. She looked different—exhausted, almost. The confidence she always carried seemed worn thin.

“What are you doing here?” you asked flatly, turning your attention back to your sketchbook.

“I—I didn’t mean to bother you,” she stammered. “I just… I wanted to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you replied, your voice cold but trembling.

“There is,” Daniela said, stepping closer. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance, and I know I hurt you in a way I can’t take back. But I need you to know I’m sorry. Not just for the bet, but for everything—for making you feel like you were anything less than amazing.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Part of you wanted to yell, to scream at her for the pain she caused. But another part—the part that remembered the warmth in her smile and the way she made you feel seen—wanted to listen.

“Why now?” you asked quietly, finally meeting her eyes. “Why are you here?”

“Because I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with the way things are,” Daniela admitted. Her voice cracked, and she looked away, trying to compose herself. “You didn’t just change me, Y/N. You made me realize how empty everything else was—how much I needed someone who actually cared about me for me, not who I pretended to be.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “And how do I know this isn’t just another game?”

“It’s not,” she said, her voice firm. “I swear, it’s not. I know I can’t make you believe me overnight, but I’ll spend as long as it takes proving it to you. Even if that means just being your friend. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.”

You stared at her, searching her face for any hint of deception. But all you saw was sincerity—a vulnerability you’d never seen in Daniela before.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I understand,” she said softly. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. Not until you tell me to.”

The two of you stood in silence, the weight of her words sinking in. For the first time in months, the walls around your heart wavered, if only slightly.

“I need time,” you finally said, closing your sketchbook and standing up. “That’s all I can give you right now.”

Daniela nodded, her expression a mix of hope and regret. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait.”

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back. Daniela was still standing there, watching you go, her hands shoved into her pockets and her shoulders slumped.

Over the next few weeks, Daniela kept her promise. She didn’t push, didn’t hover. Instead, she found small, subtle ways to show you she was serious. A cup of coffee left at your usual library spot with a sticky note that simply read “For the artist who never rests.” A carefully chosen book slipped into your locker, its title related to a topic you’d once mentioned in passing. She was persistent, but not intrusive, allowing you to take the lead if you wanted to.

At first, you ignored the gestures, brushing them off as attempts to ease her guilt. But over time, you started to notice the sincerity behind them. She wasn’t asking for anything in return. She wasn’t trying to force a conversation or even make her presence known. It was as if she was letting her actions speak louder than her words ever could.

One rainy afternoon, you found yourself standing in front of the coffee shop near school. You hadn’t planned on coming here, but the sudden downpour had forced you to seek refuge. As you shook the rain from your jacket, you glanced around the warm, cozy space.

And then you saw her. Daniela was sitting in the corner, a textbook open in front of her, a look of concentration on her face as she tapped her pen against the page. She hadn’t noticed you yet, and for a moment, you debated walking right back out.

But something stopped you.

With a deep breath, you approached her table. She looked up when you stopped in front of her, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“Y/N,” she said, blinking as if she wasn’t sure you were real. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

You hesitated, clutching the strap of your bag. “The rain. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Oh.” She closed her textbook quickly, as if embarrassed to have been caught studying. “Do you… want to sit?”

You considered saying no, but instead, you nodded and slid into the chair across from her. The silence between you was heavy at first, but not uncomfortable.

“I’ve noticed the notes,” you said after a while, breaking the quiet.

Daniela’s face flushed, and she looked down at her hands. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to say anything directly. I didn’t want to make things harder for you.”

“You didn’t,” you admitted. “They were… nice.”

Her eyes lifted to meet yours, a flicker of hope in them. “Really?”

You nodded, looking down at the table. “I’ve been thinking a lot. About what you said. About everything.”

“And?” she asked cautiously.

You took a deep breath, your fingers tracing patterns on the wooden surface. “I’m still hurt, Daniela. What you did—it wasn’t fair. You made me feel like I could trust you, and then…”

“I know,” she interrupted gently. “I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I’m trying to be better, Y/N. Not just for you, but for myself. I’ve been selfish for a long time, and meeting you made me realize that. You made me want to be someone worth knowing.”

Her words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity in them. Part of you wanted to believe her, but the other part was still scared.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” you said honestly.

“I understand,” Daniela said quietly. “But I’m willing to earn it, even if it takes the rest of my life.”

You looked at her, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes—the same vulnerability she’d shown in the park. For the first time, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, she really had changed.

“Okay,” you said softly.

“Okay?” she repeated, her voice hopeful.

“I’m not saying I forgive you,” you clarified. “But… maybe we can try being friends. See where it goes from there.”

Daniela’s smile was small but genuine, a mixture of relief and gratitude. “I’d like that. A lot.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a weight lift from your chest. It wasn’t a perfect resolution, but it was a step forward.

As weeks turned into months, the tentative friendship between you and Daniela began to blossom into something deeper. She stayed true to her word, taking things slow, showing you through actions rather than words that she was committed to earning your trust.

She didn’t try to force her way back into your life. Instead, she met you where you were, celebrating your passions, listening when you opened up, and respecting your boundaries. The walls you had built around your heart began to crack, little by little, as Daniela proved herself in ways you hadn’t expected.

One crisp autumn evening, the two of you sat side by side at the park, your sketchbook balanced on your lap. Daniela leaned back against the bench, her hands tucked into her jacket pockets.

“This feels nice,” she said softly, looking up at the canopy of orange and gold leaves above you.

You glanced at her, your pencil pausing mid-sketch. “What does?”

“This. Just being here with you.” She turned to meet your eyes, her expression open and unguarded. “I never thought I could feel like this with someone. Like… I don’t have to pretend to be anything other than who I am.”

Her words caught you off guard, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you felt your heart ache—not with pain, but with something gentler, something warmer.

“You don’t have to pretend,” you said quietly.

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Thanks to you.”

For a moment, the two of you simply looked at each other, the world around you fading into the background. Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, she reached out, her hand hovering near yours on the bench.

You hesitated but then let your fingers brush against hers. The touch was tentative, like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a storm.

Daniela’s smile grew, her fingers curling gently around yours. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, your chest tight with an emotion you hadn’t dared to name before. “Yeah. It’s okay.”

In that moment, all the hurt and doubt seemed to melt away, replaced by the quiet promise of something new—something real.

Months later, as snow blanketed the ground and holiday lights twinkled in the windows of every house, you found yourself standing in front of the Avanzini family’s roaring fireplace. The girls were scattered around the room, laughing and exchanging gifts.

Daniela stood next to you, her hand intertwined with yours, a soft smile on her face as she looked at you. Her friends had accepted your relationship with surprising ease, and even Megan—who had once instigated the bet—had apologized to you in her own awkward way.

“You okay?” Daniela asked, leaning in so only you could hear her.

You looked up at her, the warmth in her eyes making your heart flutter. “I’m more than okay.”

She grinned, pulling you a little closer. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go. Ever.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. For the first time in a long time, you felt whole.

And as Daniela pressed a soft kiss to your temple, you knew that despite everything, you’d found something worth holding onto—a love that had grown from the ashes of a broken trust, stronger and brighter than you ever thought possible.