#like it's not a big deal. it wasn't meant to hurt me

[colorsofthestorm]

I am not immune to asking questions when I know the answer might hurt me.

[koishua]

this is going to sound funny and i totally don't blame you if you laugh but im tired of feeling like a yn

[love-strikes-thrice]

[Image Description: screenshot of Tumblr tags on light mode.

Tags read:

Getting real suspicious about the conflation of fantasy with reality in fandom.

"You must only read good and pure things! Otherwise you're secretly evil (smiley face)" is the song of book burners and history revisionists.

The growing number of fans treating shipping as a sign of moral purity is troubling at best and terrifying at worst.

Never trust someone who tells you to police your thoughts.

Never trust someone who tells you that bad thoughts are the same as bad actions.

And most of all.

Never trust a purity spiral.

Fandom

ID End]

I really think everyone needs to truly internalize this:

Fictional characters are objects.

They are not people. You cannot "objectify" them, because they have no personhood to be deprived of. They have no humanity to be erased. You cannot "disrespect" them, because they are not real.

[gguk-n]

hey could you maybe write a lando x reader where when it was clear that lando lost the championship the reader just comforts him but he is distancing himself from her but she doesn’t give up on him so pls a happy end ❤️

established relationship, not very angsty, short

My World Champion

Things had been rough between the pair for a few months. With the mounting pressure on Lando to perform had left him pushing all those close to him away. He wasn't very happy with it but he felt like maybe he could focus better. The person who had to deal with the brunt of Lando's distance was his girlfriend, Y/N. They'd been together for a while and friends for longer. They just got each other like no other but lately Y/N felt like she didn't know Lando as well as she used to.

Y/N did try to bring up the distance. It was Azerbaijan, "Lan, don't you think we barely talk" Y/N spoke slowly, trying to start a conversation with her boyfriend who was sat across from her on the sofa. He didn't bother to even look up, "What's there to talk about when I'm busy trying to win a championship. Let me focus" he huffed. "I didn't mean it like that. I just thought we could spend some time together" Y/N trailed off. "We are sat together right now. How much more time do you want to spend with me?" Lando sighed and finally looked up from his laptop. "I just" she felt her voice die in her throat. 'I don't remember the last time we kissed Lan' her brain thought as she got up and left the room before another fight ensued.

It was during the winter break when things were starting to look up. Lando had just won the Singapore GP, he was more attentive and present; they even cuddled the whole day. Y/N thought that she had her boyfriend back. Oh how wrong she was because as soon as they were back on track; Lando was back to square one. The Austin loss hit deep, making Lando double down on strategising and spending every waking hour with the team or thinking about Formula One. It was like he forgot Y/N existed or for that matter himself. She would sit there and stare at her boyfriend who looked more and more like a stranger with each passing day.

Things had become rocky between them. She felt the divide growing with each passing weekend. Mexico wasn't any better. But Brazil landed a huge blow to Lando. He shut down, he stopped talking to anyone and spent all his time scrolling on his phone. There was nothing she could do without Lando walking out or shutting the door on her face. So, she sat and waited. She would cook his favourite food or leave out his favourite snacks to munch on. But she didn't make much break through on him; as he still chooses to stay reserved, opting to carry the burden alone.

It was after the Las Vegas quali, when Y/N noticed the light begin leave Lando's eyes. All she could offer were words and cuddles but Lando had put up a wall between them. The bed seemed too big for the two of them with either on each side. She stared at the space in between them wondering when it had gotten this big.

After the race, Y/N sighed a sigh of relief. The Championship battle was over and that meant she got her Lando back. She saw glimpses of him when he congratulated Max and couldn't wait to jump into his arms. But it was like Lando was back, just not for her.

That night, they spent it like any other, on either side of the bed. But as Y/N tried to fall asleep, she felt the bed shake. On further inspection, she saw Lando's frame quietly shaking from the sobs as he tried to not make any noise. Her heart hurt watching him, she slowly scooted over causing Lando to stop crying for a moment. She wrapped her arm around his torso and buried her head in his neck. "I love you, my world champion" she whispered causing Lando to turn around. His face was streaked with tears which she carefully wiped off. "I don't like it when you cry" she muttered and pecked his lips. "I thought you fell asleep" Lando mumbled. "Can't sleep without my cuddles" she quipped. "But, I'm not the world champion" was all he muttered, remembering her first comment. "For the world, no. For me, always" she smiled. Lando searched her eyes for anything, but all he found was undeterred love. "And you're not angry?" he asked. "No. I'm happy to watch you compete for the championship because I know, sooner or later you'll win it. Just waiting for that day" she reassured. "I'm sorry for being a dick. I was just" Lando spoke before she cut him off, "over whelmed. I know. But you didn't have to do it all alone. What am I here for?" she spoke tenderly. "I love you" he whispered kissing her for the first time in a long time. "I love you too, muppet" she whispered back. He looked at her for a long time as his hands pulled her closer, running along her frame; "What would I do without you?" he asked. "Crash and burn" she chided. "Agreed" he mumbled pulling her in for another kiss. "You alway know how to make me happy" he mumbled in between kisses. "Only when you listen to me. Otherwise you're Mr Grumpy" she chuckled. "I promise not to be Mr Grumpy anymore" he laughed kissing her again. "Next time I'm grumpy, kiss me. I think all my worries melt away with your kisses" he said pressing her against him. "So, the next time you start an argument, I'm gonna kiss you" she said cupping his cheeks. "Best way to end an argument" he smiled pressing their foreheads together. "I won't disagree" she kissed him again, making up for all the lost time.

[winxanity-ii]

BIG FAT MEANY

ship: stepbro!megumi x fem!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (p in v, fingering, dub-con); overbearing/possessive brother (aged up: reader and megumi are in early 20s) word count: 4.5k (lololo forgive me y'all got a bit carried away with the storybuilding 💀 promise this won't happen all the time jajaja ) A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to let you know that i'm reposting this from my alt account, lulu-4-u in case you've seen this posted before... ★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You weren't a hateful person. Not at all.

In fact, you were practically a ball of sunshine—inside and out.

You loved everything.

It was the simple things in life that made your heart flutter: the moon on a clear night, the smell of fresh rain, lazy afternoons spent with your friends from college, and, of course, your family.

Especially the love between your mom and stepdad, Toji.

He came into you and your mom's life at a time when things were pretty dark—your dad had been having an affair with his secretary, and your mom was left heartbroken. But then, when you were fifteen, Toji walked into the picture, and everything changed for the better.

Out of all the things you cherished, though, there was one thing—one person—you absolutely hated.

Your stepbrother, Fushiguro Megumi.

You hated how mean he was to you.

How he always managed to push your buttons.

How he treated you like a child, even though you were only a year younger than him.

And what you hated the most?

How pushy he got when things didn't go his way.

"Megumi, I said stop!" you whined, pushing at his annoyingly close chest.

Your mind could only race, trying to piece together exactly how you ended up in this predicament.

The night had started simply enough. It was a Friday—date night for your mom and Toji, which meant the house was practically dead.

Normally, you would've just stayed at your dorm, but tonight was different. Your dormmates had been all over you about some party happening on campus, trying to drag you along, but you weren't in the mood.

You'd barely been able to dodge their constant nagging, so instead of getting sucked into something you didn’t want to do, you decided to come home.

A weekend in your room sounded a lot better than getting roped into a night of drinking and chaos.

But instead of holing up and rotting away in your room, Megumi had caught you on your way upstairs. He'd asked—well, more like insisted—if you wanted to watch a movie with him.

It had been a little out of the ordinary, but you shrugged and went along with it, thinking it'd be a decent way to pass the time. And for a while, it had been fine. You both settled on the couch, watching the newest Scream movie.

Until now.

"Megumi, what's your problem? It's just Yuji..." you finally managed, voice small as you sat up properly on the couch, trying to put some distance between the two of you.

"My problem?" he repeated, scoffing like you'd just said something ridiculous. "My problem is you acting like you don't know what’s going on. That picture—he sent it to you for a reason. But you're sitting here like it’s no big deal."

Your brow furrowed, hurt blooming in your chest at what he was insinuating.

You hated it when Megumi got like this—sharp-tongued, confrontational, like everything you did somehow annoyed him.

And this time? It was all over a damn picture...

It wasn't even a big deal, honestly.

You and Yuji were just chatting as always when among the messages he sent a picture of himself fresh out of soccer practice.

You could vividly recall the boyish grin plastered across his face, eyes bright with his usual warmth.

But it wasn't just the smile that caught your attention.

His shirt, the one you knew had probably been soaked with sweat from practice, was pulled halfway up, wiping at his forehead. It casually exposed the lean muscles of his abdomen, glistening faintly from practice.

He hadn't done it on purpose—he probably didn't even think twice about sending it knowing him—but the way his body looked in the picture was enough to make your face burn upon seeing it.

But apparently, what wasn't a big deal to you, was to Megumi...

"Is he your boyfriend or something?" he demanded, glaring down at you. "Yuji, I mean. Is that why you're all flustered? Because he sent you some half-naked picture and now you’re freaking out like some lovesick idiot?"

"What are we, twelve?" you scoffed, crossing your arms and turning your body away from him, your tone sharp. "For your information, it's none of your business what Yuji is to me. We're in college, Megumi. I don't owe you any explanations."

You could feel the heat rise to your face again, but this time it wasn't just from the embarrassment. It was the fact that he felt like he had any right to badger you about this.

He wasn't your parent, your guardian—hell, he wasn't even a friend half the time with the way he acted.

"Why do you even care?" you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to him. "You're always like this. Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

You didn't see the way his jaw clenched or how his gaze sharpened at your words. You were too focused on staring at the wall, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your chest.

You stood up abruptly, ready to head back to your room, away from his snappy attitude.

But just as you turned, a large hand wrapped around your wrist, halting your steps.

You froze, looking over your shoulder to see Megumi. He was staring up at you through his dark hair, head tilted slightly, a burning look in his eyes that made your heart race in a way you didn't like. His grip was firm but not painful—just enough to keep you there.

"Megumi, let go," you huffed, your lips pouting as your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. You gave a light tug on your arm, but his hand didn't budge.

He didn't say anything, just kept staring at you, his expression unreadable. That silence—his stubborn, infuriating silence—only made your frustration build.

Why did he have to be like this?

"I said let go!" you repeated, yanking on your arm harder this time, but his grip tightened. You felt a hot flash of anger rise in your chest.

"If you don't—" you started, your voice trembling with frustration, "I'm gonna tell Mom and Toji when they get home."

His eyes flickered for a second, and just as the words left your mouth, he scoffed, standing up in one smooth motion, his form towering over yours.

You could feel the heat of him, the intensity of his presence making you instinctively take a small step back.

"What?" he sneered, his voice low and mocking. "You're gonna tell them that you're whoring around?"

You gasped, your eyes going wide in shock, heart slamming in your chest. "What the hell, Megumi? Why would you—?" you started, but the words barely made it past your lips before he cut you off, stepping even closer, his voice quick and biting.

Megumi stepped even closer, his body towering over yours as he stared down at you through his dark lashes, his voice dropping into something almost mocking.

"Or are you gonna run to Toji?" he taunted, his lips curling into a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. "I bet you'd like that, huh? Telling him how mean I'm being to you... like some helpless little girl."

Your breath hitched, your back pressing against the wall as he closed the space between you, his presence overwhelming.

You felt cornered, heat rising to your cheeks in a way you couldn’t control. His words, the way he looked at you—it all left you speechless.

You hated that he had this effect on you, hated the way he made your pulse race, not just from anger but something deeper, something you couldn't quite place.

Megumi leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or maybe you like it when I'm mean to you. Is that it? You're always whining, but you never tell them, do you? Why's that?"

You cleared your throat, trying to steady yourself, your eyes darting off to the side to avoid the intensity of his gaze. "B-because," you stammered, voice barely above a whisper, your cheeks still burning hot.

"Because what?"

You swallowed hard, finally meeting his eyes, though the way he was looking down at you made your heart pound even harder. "Because… you're my big brother..."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt silly for even uttering them. You expected him to laugh, to scoff at you like he always did, but instead, his expression didn't change. If anything, something darker flickered in his eyes as he leaned even closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Is that what you tell yourself?" he asked quietly, his voice low and almost dangerous. "That it's just because I'm your big brother?" He tilted his head slightly, still staring down at you, his eyes narrowing just a bit. "You sure that's it?"

You could feel the heat rushing to your face again, heart pounding painfully in your chest as you struggled to find words, any words, to push him away.

Your mind raced, and though you wanted to focus on the anger bubbling up, a different thought crept in, unwanted but undeniable.

Megumi was attractive.

Like, really, really attractive.

You hated to admit it, but standing there, inches from him, it was impossible to ignore. He towered over you, standing at least six feet tall, his broad shoulders filling out the plain black t-shirt he wore.

You could see the faint outline of his muscles beneath the fabric, the way his chest rose and fell with every breath, the strong line of his jaw clenched in irritation.

His dark hair fell over his forehead in that effortless way it always did, messy but somehow perfect, framing his sharp, intense features.

And those eyes—Gods, those eyes.

Even though they were currently glaring down at you with frustration, you couldn't deny the pull they had. Dark, stormy, and filled with an intensity that made it hard to hold his gaze for long.

They were the kind of eyes that could make anyone feel small, vulnerable, and you hated how they always managed to affect you.

Your breath hitched as you let yourself take him in for just a moment too long, your body betraying you with a sharp jolt of attraction. But no—no.

You weren't going to go there.

This was Megumi, your stepbrother, and as good as he looked, he was being a complete asshole right now.

You shook your head quickly, trying to rid yourself of the thought. Stop it. Stop thinking like that.

Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath and straightened up, attempting to put on your most serious face, even though your heart was still hammering in your chest.

"Look, 'Gumi," you began, your voice sounding steadier than you felt, using the nickname you had given him years ago. It rolled off your tongue easily, a little too familiar for the situation at hand, but you needed something to ground yourself. "I'm not sure what’s wrong. And I'm sorry if I did anything to make you upset, but you have got to stop this..."

You trailed off, knowing full well what the 'this' was. And deep down, Megumi knew too.

It wasn't just about Yuji, or any other guy, really. It was him.

It was how he acted—how he always got so weirdly possessive, so jealous, whenever another guy so much as talked to you.

You didn't even have to be interested in them; the mere mention of someone else was enough to set him off.

You'd seen it countless times. The sharp glares, the biting comments, the way his jaw would tighten at the mention of a boy's name.

It was always the same, this constant undercurrent of envy and jealousy that never made sense, and it wasn't just a protective brother thing.

No, it was something else.

Something darker.

Something you weren't ready to acknowledge.

Megumi's jaw clenched, and for a second, you thought he was going to say something or maybe even do something.

You braced yourself, heart racing with both frustration and something you didn't want to name.

But instead, he let go of your wrist, taking a step back.

"Fine…" he muttered, his voice low and almost too calm. "You're right, and I'm sorry."

You blinked, momentarily thrown off. Megumi? Apologizing?

He never apologized to you, not like this. Usually, he'd just brush you off, act like whatever happened didn't matter or somehow turn it back on you. But now, here he was, actually acknowledging his behavior.

It felt strange, and you weren't quite sure how to respond.

"Uh, well, um, thank you…" you mumbled, still processing.

It didn't feel real, this sudden shift. But before you could dwell on it for too long, you turned to leave again, ready to retreat to the safety of your room where you could put distance between yourself and this confusing experience.

But just as you began to walk away, you felt it again—his hand, firm around your wrist.

He wasn't letting go.

"Where's my apology?" he asked, his tone unsettlingly calm.

"Huh?" you responded, confused by the sudden demand. Your brain barely had time to catch up with the words before Megumi yanked you forward, pulling you off balance.

You stumbled, instinctively putting your hands up to steady yourself, but you ended up falling into his chest instead. "Oof!"

Your hands pressed against the solid warmth of him, trying to create some space, but Megumi's arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

The heat from his body seeped into yours, making it impossible to ignore how solid and overwhelming he felt against you.

"Megumi—" you started, breathless, but the rest of your sentence was cut off as he brought his lips close to your ear, his voice soft and commanding.

"Shush…" he murmured, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Let's just finish the movie."

With that, he pulled you back down onto the couch next to him, his arm still wrapped around your waist, keeping you tethered to his side. You were practically sitting on his lap, his arm still holding you close, and your mind was spinning, trying to wrap itself around what was happening.

The movie played in the background, but you couldn't focus on anything except the heavy tension in the room and the warmth of his body pressing against yours.

As you tried to shift away, to put some space between you, Megumi's voice pierced through the room, low and deliberate. "You know," he began, his hand dropping lower, his fingers brushing the inner corner of your thigh. "I just realized something… we never got to bond." He emphasized the word by gripping your thigh, his touch firm and intentional.

Your breath hitched at the contact, and your mind blanked for a second, overwhelmed by how sudden and intense his presence felt. "I-I mean, we still can," you stuttered, trying to defuse the situation, trying to keep this from going wherever it was heading.

But the way Megumi's face pulled into a wicked smirk, the sharp gleam in his eyes, made your stomach drop. He leaned in closer, licking his lips as he watched your reaction, his grip tightening slightly on your leg.

The air around you felt thick, it was as if everything had narrowed down to just this—his gaze, his hands on you, the heat of his body so close to yours.

Before you could even think of moving again, Megumi's hand suddenly gripped your jaw, his fingers firm against your skin as he turned your face toward him.

His touch was possessive, controlling, and it sent a wave of something through you—part fear, part something darker that you didn't want to name.

"C'mon, look at me," he said, his voice a low murmur as he scooted even closer, towering over you now. He tilted your head back slightly, forcing you to meet his eyes, and even if you wanted to pull away, you couldn't.

His grip was too strong, too sure.

Megumi watched your reaction closely, his smirk growing as he tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "What's wrong? You don't wanna play with your big brother?" The way he said it, his voice dripping with a mock sweetness, sent shivers down your spine, and your heart pounded painfully in your chest.

"G-Gumi, the movie…" you stammered, trying to deflect, to push him away with your words, but it was no use.

You knew nothing good was going to come from this.

He just chuckled softly, his fingers gripping your jaw a little tighter as he leaned even closer, his breath hot against your skin. "Forget the movie," he muttered, his voice taking on that dangerous edge again.

Before you could react, Megumi grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them to your side with one hand.

You were startled by how effortlessly he did it—his arms didn't even bulge, as if it was nothing for him to hold you down like this. Your heart raced even faster, panic starting to creep in as you realized how strong he really was.

You tried to squirm, to pull away, but Megumi didn't budge. His grip on you was firm, almost casual, like he was barely putting in any effort to keep you trapped against him.

Megumi tutted at you, a soft noise that somehow felt condescending, as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "The movie's still there, silly," he hummed, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

You could feel him nosing along the contours of your neck, his presence overwhelming every one of your senses.

"Let's just play a game until the commercials are over, yeah?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing, as if this were all some harmless joke to him.

"A-A game?" you stuttered, your mind struggling to keep up with what was happening. Your body felt frozen in place, your instincts screaming at you to move, to get away, but the grip he had on your wrists, the way he held you down so effortlessly, made it impossible.

"Yeah…" he whispered, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. "Let's play… who can last the longest."

The words didn't even fully register before you felt the sudden force of him pushing you back against the sofa.

An involuntary "oomph" escaped your lips as your back hit the cushions, and your vision blurred for a second as you stared up at the ceiling, heart pounding in your ears.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Megumi was hovering above you, his body blocking out everything else. His dark eyes raked over your face, taking in every flicker of emotion you couldn't hide, every sign of the fear and confusion coursing through you.

He didn't move, not yet, but the weight of his gaze pinned you in place as effectively as his body did.

There was something in his expression—an intensity that made your chest tighten, made it hard to breathe, and you couldn't help but feel like you were already losing whatever game this was.

Megumi let out a deep chuckle, the sound reverberating in your chest, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't worry," he murmured, his tongue flicking out to lick the curve of your ear, making you shiver. "I'll go easy on you… for now."

"Megumi—" you started, your cry cut off as his hand cupped your jaw, and he slammed his lips onto yours, his movements forceful and possessive.

Heat shot through your body, shivers running down your spine as his tongue invaded your mouth like a man starving. It was overwhelming, the way he kissed you—demanding, fierce, leaving no room for resistance.

You whimpered against his mouth, the noise muffled by the way his lips devoured yours. His hands wandered along your body, gripping, grabbing, squeezing any part of you he could find.

The pressure of his touch was firm, almost bruising, and with every place his hands explored, your body responded with an involuntary jolt of heat.

Your breath hitched as he hooked his hands under your legs, pulling them up and around his waist, his hips jolting forward into yours. The movement sent a rush of sensation through you.

You managed to tear your lips from his, gasping for air as your chest heaved. "M-Megumi, stop…" you whined, your voice trembling, your head falling back as you tried to make sense of what was happening, what he was doing to you.

He didn't stop. Instead, he groaned low in his throat, his lips finding your neck. He licked and bit along the sensitive skin there, the rough scrape of his teeth making you shiver even as you tried to push the sensation away.

Your mind was at war with itself—one part of you frothing, screaming, fight him, get him away, the panic clawing at your chest.

But the other side—the darker part, the one that you didn’t want to admit was there—was keening, practically begging for more of his attention, for more of this twisted game.

And Megumi, as if sensing the battle raging inside of you, just smiled against your skin, biting down a little harder, leaving a mark you knew wouldn't fade anytime soon.

Megumi pulled back slightly, making a deliberate show of licking his lips as he panted above you, his eyes dark and focused. "C'mon, lil sis," he murmured, rocking his hips into yours in a slow, rough rhythm that made your breath catch in your throat. "The game can't start until you're ready."

Your body betrayed you as you watched him put a hand between your bodies, his fingers easily slipping into the confines of your sleeping shorts. "Ohhh, looks like you really wanna play, huh?" he taunted, his voice laced with smugness as his fingers rubbed up and down your wet slit.

A wave of shame washed over you, your thighs twitching with the instinct to close, to shut them and stop what was happening, but his frame kept them wide open.

You couldn't escape the heat pooling low in your stomach, no matter how hard you tried to fight it. A choked whine left your mouth, your back arching involuntarily when he slipped a finger inside.

Megumi let out a groan, low and rumbling, as if he was savoring the sensation. "Damn…" he muttered under his breath, cursing softly as he felt your walls constrict around his finger. His thumb brushed over your clit, making your whole body jerk, and when he added a second finger, the fight in you began to crumble.

His fingers were relentless, rubbing and probing with a skill that left you breathless. Your legs, which had tried to resist, opened wider for him, your body moving of its own accord.

Megumi hummed in approval, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he muttered, "Good girl." The words sent a rush of conflicting emotions through you—humiliation, desire, confusion—but you couldn't stop the way your body responded to him.

And before you knew it, you came. Babbled whimpers fell from your lips as the coil within you snapped, your body shaking with the force of it.

By the time you came down from the high, Megumi had already pulled back, sitting on his haunches as he dropped your legs.

You curled your legs up to your body, watching as he began to untie his drawstring sweats, his eyes still locked on you with that same wicked smirk.

You looked away just as you caught a glimpse of the dark trail of hair peeking out from his waistband, heart pounding in your chest.

At this point, you had accepted what was about to happen, and your mind raced as you braced yourself.

Megumi crawled back over you, his hands tugging at your shorts, and you barely registered the feeling as he discarded them over his shoulder. One of your legs was pulled back around his waist, the heat of his skin pressing against yours.

His body hovered over yours, and you felt him nudge your entrance with the tip of his dick, sliding it up and down along your slit.

A shiver ran through you as you struggled to keep your thoughts clear, but it was impossible under the weight of him, both physically and mentally.

"Fuck," he groaned to himself, eyes locked on where your bodies were beginning to connect.

Your breathing grew shallow, your heart racing uncontrollably, knowing that whatever came next, there was no turning back.

Megumi filled you in one swift movement, stealing your breath away. You cried out, the sound a mix of pleasure and pain echoing through the room. His groan was long and guttural, reverberating in the space between you.

Megumi's rhythm was steady, each thrust sending a jolt of shock of pleasure through your body.

It felt surreal—part of you couldn't believe you were letting this happen, but the undeniable pleasure clouded every coherent thought.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, the intensity of it all overwhelming your senses.

"That's right," Megumi grunted, his breath hot against your ear. "Take all of me."

You couldn't form words, your mind spinning, too overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

Instead, all you could do was moan and whimper, your body moving with his, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room. His hand snaked up to your throat, gripping lightly as he maintained a relentless pace.

"You like that, don't you? You like the way big brother fucks you?" he growled, his voice harsh and demanding, his thrusts becoming even more intense.

Your mind reeled, unable to speak, only nodding frantically in response as the pleasure built inside you. You could feel the pressure mounting, an orgasm threatening to wash over you as your body tensed beneath him.

Megumi seemed to notice, his hands hiking your legs up higher, deepening the angle, each movement more brutal and precise than the last.

You lay there, body writhing beneath his as he fucked you like a ragdoll, and a dark part of you couldn't help but thrill in the way he took control. His voice filled your ear with praise, breathless murmurs of "you're doing so good for me," and other words that barely registered through the haze, as if he were drunk off the feeling of you clamped around him.

Soon, his tempo shifted, becoming erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as his low moans became uncontrollable.

The intensity built until you felt warmth spreading inside you, the realization hitting you that he was coming, his release flooding your senses.

The throbbing between you two blurred together, until yours faded, and you could still feel him twitching, even as everything else calmed.

Eventually, he slowed, both of you panting, the room thick with the aftermath. You winced when he finally pulled out, a shiver running through you as you felt the hot liquid seeping out.

Megumi stood to grab cleaning supplies, gently wiping you off, his touch softer now, though still lingering in the tension of what had just occurred.

And as you lay there, watching him, all you could think was, What the fuck just happened?

[no-144444]

mclaren masterlist!

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oscar piastri

false starts and unthinkable mistakes Oscar comes to you at the end of a bad race

debuts and podiums how oscar celebrates after your first race, and first win.

mishaps online oscar accidentally posts a nude online the night before your big concert and launch. oops.

red flag you get in an accident on track

the disgraced pop princess oscar is your salvation after things so horribly wrong

-> his disgraced pop princess oscar is there for you through your first real GP weekend and everything else, of course

my girl fans made a youtube compilation of oscar and you being in love since your prema days.

slip-up oscar slips up about your wedding

pointe shoes and racecars you and oscar had grown up together, and grown apart. now you're teaching him ballet for a mclaren video. will you two reconnect?

family fights you and oscar were never meant to be together, lando made that clear. one night changes everything, then another changes it again.

accident prone oscar comes home one night hurt, how do you deal with it?

bad day you had an awful day, but at least you're coming home to him.

Stoic much? oscar might be too good at the whole 'keeping a secret' thing. like, really good.

wallflowers like flowers too you never thought you'd find love, especially not with your best friend at his sister's wedding.

chancer Can he figure out who you are at the masquerade ball before you leave forever?

mark my words mark (webber) 'slips up' about your marriage.

nothing bad! the sprint pisses you off, ted's notebook catches you at a bad time, you say some things, oscar posts some things, and it ends up being one of the most popular ad campaigns in history. oops.

quick tweet, big problem you and oscar are together, but the world doesn't need to know you're engaged. lando decides they do.

knowing me, knowing you you're a broadway star, and oscar has to know everything about a topic for the 'anything but F1' segment. win-win when his girlfriend is in the public eye.

gymming oscar doesn't want you going to the gym

then we can breaking up sucks.

first kisses being jack wolff's nanny is a pretty sick gig, especially when your old friend is an f1 driver and is interested in you...

-> first dinners being jack wolff's nanny is a pretty sick gig... only when your boss (/ father figure) isn't trying to interrogate your new boyfriend. (18+)

-> vampire oscar gets a new nickname...

guilt tripping oscar asks something of you that you know you can't do. you do it anyway and it ends in you two almost breaking up. almost.

farm girl what's a better way to a guys attention than shouting at him for being too slow?

sweating oscar has been acting strange

mixup oscar gets a bit jelly when you and franco get close

lando norris

mistakes the aftermath of the Hungarian gp

family issues lando (and his mum) are there for you during a difficult time.

catch-up lando after monza

the break up of the century you and lando break up on horrible terms, could a new album and a special performance bring you tow back together?

making moves Lando and you don't exactly get along and now you're quitting, he'll surely take it well, right?

misguided mishaps One bed between you and your brother's best friend… what could go wrong? (18+)

was it casual? the seriousness of your relationship wasn't exactly clear... leading to unforseen circumstances... (18+)

3 minutes lando overshoots an overtake, and you go off the track. what then ensues is the most stressful and awful 3 hours of his life.

2 hands your stunt-driver pulled out the day before the shoot, good thing you're dating an f1 driver. (18+)

risotto brazil was shit

prince charming lando brings his niece to the ballet, who knew he'd find love?

holidate Y/n, who gets mocked for being single, finds the perfect solution when she meets Lando, an F1 driver. Now she has the perfect date for her holidays, but her heart starts yearning for something more.

"oh yeah?" you and lando go out to celebrate his win and the championship, but you run into someone...

prison, not a promise lando proposes and it doesn't go as planned...

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series

our favourite presenter, y/n y/l/n! f1 grid x reader x oscar piastri

Presenting… y/n y/l/n Tweets about our favourite F1 commentator!

Judgy McJudgy Pants or Osc? You decide! you and oscar are getting closer, or are you?

dangerous media things go downhill fast as you fall, and he has to catch you. what makes it worse is what he says after…

lies and flights you two have a moment, the moment ends, and so does something else...

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playing favourites masterlist

your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: I'm feral for this man and this song + struggling w my writing format ( im new to this omg )

JADED | AARON PIERRE.

Toxic!Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader.

warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions of but not limited to; sexual content ( finger!ng), extreme language (cursing, use of n-word, use of b-word), talking you through it. lil bit of exhibitionism if you squint, mild daddy k!nk.

summary: in which you decide to end the toxic situation-ship you share with Terry— except this man only know how to suck you back in.

tell me that we locked in, locked in, look in my eyes.

tell me that you mine and we ain't just fuckin, ain't just vibin.

Why were you nervous? It wasn't like you'd never been in the very same GMC pickup before—oh you'd been in here plenty times, plenty times. Your eyes flickered to whatever they could, other than him.

The backseat.

The same backseat you'd been folded. flipped, and fucked out on. It was clean now, he'd definitely had some detailing done, the remnants of how he made you squirt only two weeks earlier had vanished, once etched into the seat itself.

And why were you sad about that?

You averted your eyes away from the backseat, firmly turning straight forward in the passenger seat, teeth nervously gnawing at the skin in your jaw. It was way too silent and tense in the truck. Way too silent. "Hi..” you sheepishly muttered, tucking a stray curl from your wash and go behind your ear, eyes darting around the parking lot of your apartment complex. The parking lot was the safest option for you, you knew how incredibly intoxicating Terry was, which meant the more space from your bedroom, the better.

Out of your peripheral, you could see Terry's face contorted into a twisted mix of confusion anger. His brows furrowed together, a mug presenting itself on his face. "What the fuck?" He spat. "Wassup?" He asked, his tone more accusatory than anything.

Where the fuck did he get off acting hurt and confused? That was supposed to be your stance in this whole thing, hurt and confused. And most of the time it was. But tonight, it was a nice change of pace, the hurt and confusion lingered on Terry instead—in which you could finally take on the nonchalant and curt demeanor. It felt so good too. So good to finally not be the one with the lump in their throat, eyes burning from blinking back tears. This felt, good.

"Nothin', just chillin," you simply responded, playing with the smartphone in your lap, acrylic nails tapping at the casing.

"Fuck you mean just chillin?" He asked his brows furrowed as he tried to catch your darting eyes. "You ain't been seein' me text you?"

"Yeah?" You responded slowly in a questioning tone, as you focused on the ASICS on your feet. "Been busy lately."

You seen Terry texts. Shit, the past couple of days he'd been the one blowing you up. It started the other night when he rung your bell and you didn't answer, you knew it was him, and he knew you were home. Lights still on and bright in the kitchen.

Private Ryan: Just rung the bell

Private Ryan: Come out.

Private Ryan: I'm sorry for the way I acted the other night. I ain't handle that situation like a man. Lemme make it up to u

It was so hard ignoring Terry, he made it hard. He didn't text or call often, he wasn't hardcore into his phone like the rest of the generation, maybe the marines played a part in that? Hell, he made sure to stay active in an effort not to get addicted to his cellular device—that's why when he texted it was a big deal.

But no way this nigga thought that you'd be at his every beck and call when he couldn't even solidify a title between the two of you? Casual sex and jealousy gets old—especially when it isn't under the terms of a relationship.

It was fun at first, linking up and sneaking off. Getting folded like a lawn chair when you least expected it, but there was something about Terry that brung the strings to a no-strings-attached situation. You started craving him, wanting him, and you made that very clear, but Terry made his intentions crystal clear from the beginning. How could you fault him for not wanting what you want? But how he could he also fault you for the change in your attitude?

"Busy?" He repeated the word like it disgusted him. His burning gaze tore through you, you could feel the heat radiating from his glare. Terry let out a heavy breath, gently tapping his fist against the staring wheel as he finally averted his gaze to the windshield. Thank Q!

But as he tore his gaze away from you, you centered yours on him. And why the fuck would you go and do that? Knowing how gorgeous he was, especially when he was pissed off? Clenching and unclenching his jaw. He had some nerve coming over here with a fresh cut. Everything so lined up and sexy—

"I came over here, a few days ago," he sternly spoke, the rough edge to his voice only setting off the throbbing in your pussy, "and you know that 'cause you was home, lights on and shit, I'm textin' you and you reading the shit in real time. What the fuck?" He repeated the three words once again. His voice growing rougher by the second.

"Two weeks ago, I'm fillin' you up and today you actin' cold as hell? Fuck is goin on?"

And why did he keep saying all the wrong shit? Filling you up was an understatement, he was stuffing you to the brim quite literally, to the point where he had bottomed out and was still tryna give you more. Filling you up, ha.

"I can't do this anymore, Terry," the words came out of your mouth abruptly, almost like you could trust yourself to say them. Terry sat there unwavering, he didn't speak, he didn't move. This only prompted you to continue. "It's too much, we both want...different things. And I'm tired of feeling like I'm overextending myself to you, being too available for you. I can't do...whatever this is anymore."

"Pea..”

"Don't do that," you firmly responded. The direct eye contact didn't seem to deter you this time. There he went. Playing those mind games. Calling you that nickname. Pea. A shorter version of the popular nickname your grandfather frequently referred to you as, sweet pea.

Terry kissed his teeth. Oh he thought he knew what was up. It'd became clear as a day. "You fuckin' somebody else." The words came out soft, quiet almost as if there had been a realization.

You let out a heavy sigh, your eyes rolling at the comment, " I'm not having sex with anyone, Terry." You spoke truthfully. As if you could. He made that hard enough, he stuffed you perfectly. He knew how to find that spot inside of you so easily, almost like he vacationed there in his spare time. He knew exactly what made your eyes roll back, what made that squeal in the back of your throat come barreling out, he knew your body too well to let anyone else come and have a gander.

"But I am dating," you said more quietly than you anticipated. Maybe it's because the recent dates haven't been anything to brag about. Not that your online dating profile and messages to your homegirl hadn't been highly specific, you've been attracting the same types. Baby daddies and men way too old to still be trying to just hook up. "And I know what I want, and it's not this...anymore. I wanna be able to climb in bed with a man and wake up beside him too, and not worry about him being hot or cold, or when I'll see him again," yuck. Why did you feel that damn lump in your throat again?

"I'm so tired of feeling disposable." You finalized. Flashing your watery eyes to the window adjacent to you. You weren't gonna cry in front of him. Shit, you weren't that tender. But all your feelings hitting you at once in this situation made you more emotional than you gambled for. You knew the nonchalant facade would only last so long on you. Terry was trained in that shit. He had a poker face like no other.

Terry didn't deter his gaze from you, his gorgeous eyes soft and lingering. "I don't try to make you feel disposable, Pea."

"Yeah, well, you don't have to try. You just do." You mumbled quietly. "That's why I don't wanna do this shit anymore."

Terry kept his eyes on you, reaching his large hand out to grasp your smaller one at a failed attempt at interlacing your fingers when you snatched away.

"Stop, Terry!" You frowned folding your arms. "I'm serious. No more calling, and texting, and popping up at my place."

He barely acknowledged you, kissing his teeth and leaning over the center console to rub his hand across your tummy, gripping your sides. "Why you actin' like that? Like you don't miss daddy?" He mumbled softly, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

This man didn't give up. Your restraint was at zero, and just like that you were putty.

You shook your head, arms still crossed as you let out a small whimper in which you claimed to be a protest. Eyes lowering at his wandering hands. "Hm, you don't miss daddy?" He asked in response, his hand sliding back over your tummy, fingers fondling with the button on your shorts.

This is exactly what you wanted to avoid, that was the whole point of the parking lot. Far away from a bed. But you should've known that you didn't need a bed with Terry.

And yet, just like a dumb bitch you shook your head once again. Playing into his sick little game.

He trailed his soft, teasing lips down your cheek until he reached your neck, leaving a searing trail behind on the skin there. You sucked your bottom lip in, a solid attempt at trying to keep whatever moans he was pulling out of you at bay. You couldn't betray yourself even more than you had already done. You came down here to end things, and instead you were about to get folded in half once again. The circle of life if you will.

"You don't miss me? So why you lettin' me take these off you right now?" He asked. Oh he was soo condescending. He tugged on the bottom of your shorts, and look at you, lifting up to help him earning a chuckle. You were so easy. "Nipples been hard ever since I touched you," he mumbled in between kisses to your neck, his hand busying itself up to your breast while your shorts slid down your legs, rubbing your hardened nipple through the thin fabric of your tank top.

You suck in a sharp breath. Your body was on fire. You felt like you were on fire. Every kiss made you hotter, and the way he was touching you had your pussy fluttering. You had to be ovulating, this shit wasn't normal.

"That pussy so wet, I know it," he spoke, his voice lower, lips sucking on the thin flesh on the side of your neck, hand roughly parting your thighs earning another isolated whimper from you. His hand rubbing the inside of your thighs, leaving a lingering tingle behind. He was such a fucking tease sometimes.

He kissed his way back to your cheek, all the while his hands left soft slaps, and grips to your inner thigh. Your eyes fluttered closed at his constant teasing, breathing uneven as hell. You felt like you were swelling with need.

"Look at you, baby," he hummed against your ear, "you a horny fuckin' mess," he tsk'd in your ear, fingers dancing over to your pussy. Fingers lazing dancing over your slit through the thin fabric of your panties. A shaky breath slipped past your lips a soft drawn out moan following. Hell, the betrayal was already done.

"Niggas not treatin' my bitch right, huh?" He rhetorically asked referring to your dates, his own eyes focusing on the lazy dance his fingers were doing on your barely exposed pussy, until he quickly got bored and used those same fingers to move the fabric aside. "Can't be, otherwise you wouldn't be this fuckin' turned on right now." He answered his own questions, fingers immediately doing slow, hypnotizing circles on your clit.

"Fuhhh," you moaned out in response, arms immediately parting so that you could grip onto the sides of your seat for a sense of stability.

"Mhm," he hummed in response, "pussy wet just like I thought," he mumbled dragging his pointer and middle finger up and down your pussy a few times before slowly slipping the both of them in your heated core at once earning a choked out moan from you. You fit around his fingers so perfectly, almost as if he'd molded your pussy to do so.

His brows furrowed as his fingers searched inside of her, knuckle deep, "fuck," he cursed, "look how you suckin' my fingers in you like that. You missed daddy, this fuckin' pussy missed me."

It wasn't like you could respond at all, he was literally pulling your moans out of you with his fingers. His free hand had busied itself with pulling up your tank top and exposing your braless titties.

"Look how you came out here," he kissed his teeth, fingers massaging your slippery insides, the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching on his fingers filled the pickup truck, his other fingers pulling and tugging on your hardened nipples, squeezing softly before quickly pulling away. "Barely fuckin' dressed, you wanted this. You wanted daddy to get you right, huh?"

"Talkin' about' dates, you don't want them fuckin' clowns," he hummed peppering soft kisses on your cheek, his fingers attacking that delicious spot inside of you. "You just want daddy to flood that pussy again? Make you his bitch?"

"Oouu shit, daddy!" You moaned out, eyes squeezing shut as your head lazily fell against his shoulder. Him humming in agreement to your moans followed by a cocky chuckle. "Right there, right there!" You rushed out. Your resolve had slipped away a long time ago.

"Where baby?" He cooed,his tone condescending. "Right here?" He asked his fingers never deterring from the spot, instead he pushed them deeper, faster.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as his fingers continued to work inside of you, he whispered other obscenities to you as he finger fucked you good. Deliciously good. So good that you couldn't decipher or comprehend anything he'd been saying. The sound of your pussy around his fingers was sending you to another bliss you didn't know you could reach.

"Listen to how messy that pussy sound on my fingers, baby," he groaned, his free hand gripping your face firmly, tilting your head up from his shoulder so that he could watch your facial expressions closely. He smiled as he watched you; eyes squeezed shut, lips forming into that familiar frown he knew so well, a long whine following suit.

"Yeah, that pussy wanna cum for daddy don't she?" He asked placing a sloppy kiss on your parted lips.

"Oh my god," you whined your brows furrowing as you opened your watery eyes to Terry looking down right at you.

"Yeah, she do," he mumbled nodding his eyes focusing in on the assault his fingers were doing to your pussy before slipping them out slowly, rubbing the stickiness he accumulated on his fingers onto your clit in slow, agonizing circles earning a whine from you. "You better not fuckin' cum though," he mumbled quietly to you, hand softly tapping against your cheek.

"Don't..cum?" You slurred through a moan for confirmation. You could barely comprehend what he was saying, you were so deliciously close. So close.

"Don't cum," he slapped his finger against your pussy lightly, the wet plaps almost enough to send you over the edge. Only almost though. "Get in the backseat, I wanna get in that pussy." He spoke hand slapping down on your sensitive pussy once again, sending trembles to your already weakened legs.

—

cheers to my first fanfic on here lolz! feedback and criticism always welcome 💗💕 hope you enjoyed xx!

[huskersbooze]

Who's in Control?

Alastor x Reader

| Part 1(here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Summary : You sold your soul to Alastor and had no idea how big of a deal this was. Until recently, you finally learn what it means, and realize all that Alastor had been doing was just a lie.. or was it?

Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader, Huskerdust? (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)

Warnings : swear words

Additional Tags : Angst, miscommunication, misunderstandings, Alastor actually being nice?!, no use of (Y/n)

Ib : Who's in Control By Set It Off

Word count : 1.8k

"Good morning, dear."

"Morning, Al." You reach the lobby and take a seat on the floor next to Alastor's chair.

"How was your sleep, darling?"

"It was good! And yours?"

"Aha, hilarious, really. You know I don't sleep, my dear." He places a hand on your head and gives your hair a ruffle. "You really do know how to brighten my day."

The rest of the team reaches the lobby, and you all gather around for your daily dose of trust exercises.

-----

You and Alastor had been growing closer and closer ever since your arrival at the hotel. There was no doubt that he was your favourite person there.

And, well, for Alastor, he never wanted to admit it, but everyone in the hotel could tell, and even he was aware.

He was growing a soft-spot for you.

It was never supposed to be this way. He was never meant to grow attached. It just somehow happened, and that was that.

Everything between you two was going great. Except for that one little issue that bothered Alastor.. but you didn’t have to know. He never tried to abuse any of that power when he asked for your soul. He never thought of doing anything to you.

But there comes a time in every relationship where a lie can ruin it all.

“Hey, sugar. How ya’ doin’?” Angel Dust leans by the bar counter, greeting you as usual.

“I'm doing decent. Husk and I were just talking about you.”

“We were fuckin’ not!” You watch as the cat's ears twitch, the drink he was originally pouring tipping over.

“Oh, really? No need ta’ lie Husky~” You laugh at Angel's teasing, which makes Husk let out a low growl. “At least I don't gawk over a certain demon so obviously.”

“Hey! Are you talking about me and Al?”

“Who else would he be talkin’ about?” Angel tilts his head to the side, giving you a knowing glare. “Ya’ can't even deny it.”

“Al and I are just friends.”

“Kid, Angel's right.” The cat can only do so much but sigh. “You don't know him as well as I do. He treats you differently.”

“Still, we're just friends-”

“The Radio Demon doesn't do ‘friends’, kid.”

“Yeah, well, he owns my soul. Of course he'd treat me differently.”

The way it so simply came out of your mouth like it wasn't some big deal. Both Husker and Angel Dust froze in place, staring at you wide-eyed.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“What.. what did you just say?” The spider can hardly comprehend the news you'd just dropped.

“He owns my soul..?”

“Kid. What the actual fuck?!”

“What the fuck did he do to you?! Ya’ alright?! Are you hurt?”

You watch as the two demons skim your body up and down, firing questions at you, checking up to make sure you weren't hurt.

But you were confused.

“What's going on? Why are you guys suddenly acting so strange?”

“Wh- Why did you sell ya’ soul to him?!”

“Fuck I knew he was up to no good!”

“He told me by selling my soul to him he'd protect me from everything and anything at all cost. I didn't see a reason to decline?” You reply to Angel's question, ignoring Husk as he mutters about himself being correct. “I got nothing to lose.”

“Ya’ got everything to lose, shitass.” You hear his voice start to crack slightly as you realise tears welling up in his eyes.

“Angel?! Hey, what's wrong?”

“Damn, kid. You really don't know shit, huh?”

“About..?”

“What it means to sell your soul.”

“I know what it means, Al said-”

“Forget that fucker.” Husk practically spits out his name. “D'you know why I work here at the bar?”

“Because you like your job..?”

“No. It’s because I was forced by the person I sold my soul to.”

“Who..?”

“Hell, kid.. you really can't take a hint?”

And just like that, he says one more name, and your whole world comes tumbling down on you.

He didn't actually care for you, he was just shaping you in case you came to use.

He didn't actually enjoy your company, he was just watching you to make sure you were obedient.

He didn't actually mean any of the things he said. He was just trying to manipulate you.

And you were so damn lost. So damn lost as to whether the control and power you thought you had, really belonged to you.

“Valentino is an overlord.. and he's your boss?”

“Yup.” Angel nods.

“And he owns your soul like Al owns Husk’s?”

“Exactly.” Husk replies.

“And there's no escaping this contract..?”

“No.” The two reply together.

“Fuck.”

-----

“Greetings, my dear! How are you on this fine morning?” The static sounds from Alastor's usual seat at the lobby where you all gather every morning.

There's that usual smile etched on his face, which, you used to believe looked genuine when he was talking to you, but it seemed that wasn't the case.

“Hey, Husk. Hey, Angel.” You greet the two on the couch, completely passing by Alastor and ignoring his whole existence. “Mind if I sit?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Angel scoots over and makes space for you to squeeze between Husk and himself. “Ya’ look like hell.”

“You alright, kid?”

“Couldn't sleep much last night, but I'm fine.” You reassure them.

The rest of the crew were a bit startled at your display, knowing well that you refused to not sit by Alastor's chair, normally.

And here you were, ignoring him completely like he was no longer relevant, and hanging with the other two demons.

“Okay.. what an interesting way to start the morning!” Charlie tries to break the ice.

Everyone turns their attention towards her.

Everyone but Alastor.

He was practically fuming with rage, anger, irritation, but yet, a tiny bit of worry.

How dare you ignore the Radio Demon like he was some piece of useless trash?

But then again.. why were you suddenly acting so cold and distant? What did he do wrong?

He couldn't help but focus his attention on you throughout the entire day, but you didn't even spare him a single glance.

Needless to say, you felt a knock on your door that night.

“Darling, how wonderful to see you! Wonderful, really. Mind if I come in?”

“A little. What do you need, Alastor?” You stand at the door frame, hand still on the door handle, prepared to slam the door in case anything happens.

Meanwhile, Alastor was pissed. You had never rejected inviting him in for late night chatting, in fact, you never rejected anything from him.

“It's nothing, really. I just hoped to have a friendly little chat with you, if that's alright?” Alastor leans down to your level, tilting his head and giving you his usual smile he reserved for you, and you only.

“A bit busy. Maybe next time.” You attempt to close the door, but a hand swoops in and, damn, was he strong.

“Dear, what seems to be the issue?”

“I’m really busy, Alastor.” You sigh. His ears twitch at the name. Where were all his sweet little nicknames? Why were you only referring to him by his full name?

“Clearly, something is wrong, and I ought to find out what I had done to deserve such treatment.” He states, making himself welcome in your room. “Talk to me, darling.”

“Oh enough with the pet names, I’m not your fucking pet.” You roll your eyes, closing the door behind you to make sure no one stumbles upon your little predicament.

Alastor stiffens, then laughs.

“Whatever are you talking about, dear? Of course you’re not my pet.”

“The damn contract says otherwise..” You watch as Alastor shifts uncomfortably, his back still facing you. “I should’ve known you just wanted another soul. Fuck you, Alastor.”

You continue on about how you never should’ve trusted him, and how you finally knew about everything so there was no point in him pretending to tolerate you.

Alastor, however, could barely process anything you were saying. He could hear his own static in his own head, and it was growing louder and louder.

What the fuck was happening? How did you know? What did he ever do? Where did he go wrong..?

“Darling, please.. You don’t understand-” The radio filter in his voice was off, his actual voice coming out as a soft plea.

Taken aback, you stopped talking. Alastor turned to face you, smile still etched high and proud, but his eyes looked like he was about to break.

“Alastor..” You murmur. “I just don’t think I can trust you anymore. I’m sorry.”

“When have I ever used any of that power on you?!” Alastor snaps, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find out what to do to fix all this. “I’ve been nothing but nice! I.. I helped you when you were in trouble! I did nothing to hurt you..”

You watch as Alastor starts losing his usual composure, having it slowly drifting away.. It was heartbreaking seeing him like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him and pretend nothing happened.

“It doesn’t matter when you’re in control..”

“No.. darling, no! You’re in control!” He scrambles, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Really? I’m not sure I trust any of that bullshit anymore.”

“Dear, please, listen to me..!”

“I'm sorry, Al.. I think it's best if you leave.”

He pauses.

“Have a good sleep, dear.” He says, voice filter completely off. It was a rare occasion getting to hear his sweet voice. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances.

-----

“Oh my, Alastor, what's got your ears pinned back?” Rosie leads her friend through the halls and has him take a seat opposite of her. “Is everything alright?”

“No.. no it's not.” He replies. “She found out.”

“About the deal?”

“No, Rosie. No.” He sighs. “She found out what selling her soul to me actually permits me.”

“But you never wanted to abuse that power, did you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then, I'm assuming you didn't tell her?”

“No.”

“Well, why not?”

“Would it make a difference?" She could practically hear him scoff. "She's irritated at me as is. It's not like she'd even heed my words."

“Come, now, Alastor. You know as well as I that the sweetheart would listen.” Rosie tuts, waving a hand at him.

“She doesn't need to know how powerful she actually is.. she doesn't need to know her soul is being gambled this very second.”

Alastor sighs, getting up from his chair.

“Thank you for your kind words, Rosie. I shall take my leave now.”

“Take care, Alastor.” She smiles. “I'm sure she'll understand.”

“I surely hope you're correct."

———/ TBC. /———

READ PART 2 HERE

[katiascraft]

"If nothing else gets you through. Then darling, i'll cry with you" | LN4

parings: Lando Norris x reader.

Summary: after the chaotic Brazilian GP, you know Lando is verygood at lying that he is alright and nothing can move him. But with you he can't pretend.

Now playing: "Cry with you" by Jeremy Zucker.

Word count: +1,2k.

Warnings: I think none. A few cursed words I guess and mentions of anxiety. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author's note: so today was the shittiest day at the office y’all! I still feel like shit but I needed to write something about this. Why is Lando so hated??? You need to check yourselves!! Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

The Brazil GP it’s been the toughest so far. The Championship of drivers was also kind of defined. Of course Max was gonna win. He wasn't a three time world champion by luck. He is really one of the best drivers this sport has ever seen in history along with Senna, Prost, Lewis and Schumacher. But all of that indicated that your boyfriend was not gonna win the championship this year and that shuttered your heart.

You knew how hard Lando worked on that. All of the media attacked him. Social media twisting his words in a really cruel way. It was all too much noise and you perfectly knew how hard it was for him. How much anxiety he was handling and all of the pressure he was putting on himself. The pressure and illusion of the team to be back at the top after so many years decided it was gonna be Lando the one who did that. And that was a correct choice, lando was more than capable of winning the championship. But at some point it all happened so fast the pressure was descomunal.

You knew your boyfriend. You know how hard he’s worked all year. How much this all meant to him. You didn’t have holidays this year because he really wanted to fight. Train. And attack. Or at least that’s what he wanted to do.

You knew he was really good at pretending and playing it cool so people won’t ever know how much hurt his carrying. He could play the super hero indestructible for all the camaras. You won’t see him shattered right then and there. But you knew him too damn well to know he was broken. He hoped to be the winner. He dreamed about it his whole life. And this magical year was finally the one who gave him the chance to almost be it. This race was the hardest. It was luck and skills to the limit. A lot of crashes. The rain was irritating at one point. You almost didn't want to keep watching. When Lando got off track and went down to P6, you knew. He didn’t reply to any message through the radio. You cried, of course you did. You were on this as much as he was in it. You cried out of frustration. This year was a rollercoaster for you. You also dreamed of the day Lando won. You wanted that to happen even more than he wanted to. He deserved it. For how hard he works. How hard he is on himself when something out of his hands happens. Or when he made a mistake. How hard was all of that on his mental health. How obsessed he could get. And how that could send him into a spiral. You knew this was the best year at the same time it was the worst one.

When you watched him walk into the garage where you were. Your heart broke. Not because he was angry or even sad. He was playing it cool like it was not a big deal at all. So you knew how much pain he was handling.

Your eyes met after he talked to his engineers and mechanics. You were so sad this weekend. So good yet forgettable.

“Hey” he said walking to you and you just couldn’t help but dropped a few tears hugging him so tightly. You were squeezing him at some point. He let you do it. And rested his head on your neck. He fought the tears in his eyes so hard in that moment.

“I’m so proud of you. You are so strong Lando. So talented” you said now looking at him trying to repair something with your thoughts on him but knowing it won’t change anything. But you just wanted him to know he was all of that and the greatest person alive you knew. He kissed you gently.

“I love you y/n. Thank you for always supporting me” he said and gave you a kiss on the cheek giving you another hug. You didn’t say anything but hugged him tightly. After a few seconds another person joined and by the giggles he left out, you both knew it was Oscar. You two giggled a little. It was a family hug.

After that intimate little moment, the media had to be done so you had to say goodbye for a while.

(…)

After dinner with the papaya family you decided it was night in. Lando showered again because he said he had a headache. You haven’t talked about how he feels yet. You didn’t want to be invasive and more because this was a very sensitive topic to discuss. You knew he would eventually crack and talk to you. Like he always did.

You put on your pajamas and waited for him by just looking out the window at the city of São Paulo. After a few minutes la do was out. You turned to look at him. He was by his luggage wearing only a towel looking for a boxer and T-shirt. You could see his whole back. He took off the towel and put the clothes on. You looked to the bed and climbed in it waiting for him. You analyzed him one more time while he got cozy on the bed with you.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m okay babe” he said, like reading your mind. You gave him a half smile.

“You sure? We can talk about it baby” you said softly and got closer to him so you could stroke his hair sweetly. He looked at you and nodded. But then his eyes were full of tears so he denied. Your heart sinks. “Come here my love” you said, bringing me to your chest and hugging him in a way for him to find comfort somehow. He hugged you and hid his face in your neck so you couldn’t see him. “It’s okay baby. I know it was q fucking shitty day at the office. I know how much you wanted it. And you deserve it still, baby. But life is sometimes a bitch you know? I mean the alpines got the podium” you said trying to make him feel better. He was still crying and all you could read was he tigherter his grip. “Sometimes life is a bitch to the people that don't deserve it. Amazing people who are good and so no harm but somehow get the harder life mode now and then. This makes you stronger, Lando. I know next years gonna be. You will do it. Because you can and because you want to. And that more than enough because talent you already have babe” he moved a little under your hug. You heard him giggle a little. That makes you smile a little too.

You stoked his curls gently and kissed his forehead.

“I love you and admire you so fucking much. You deserve the world and I know you will eventually get it” you told him now looking into his eyes holding his face between your hands. His face was wet and his eyes teary. Seeing him like this broke your heart in so Many pieces. But you knew he was gonna be okay. He was gonna be world champion one day.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I love you” he said with a shaky voice and you gave him a little kiss.

“You just did you landinho” you said sweetly making him smile and you gave him another million kisses.

——————————————————————————————-

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

[literary-lesbo]

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵

ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ! ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴜᴘ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏɴ ᴘɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇ��ᴛ

𝘏𝘶𝘳𝘵/𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵

♡ "can you please come get me?"

♡ "hey, don't do that, you'll hurt yourself"

♡ "no, don't cry, I hate it when you cry"

♡ "you look sad"

♡ "oh god, you're bleeding"

♡ "I could just use a hug"

♡ "don't touch me"

♡ "it's okay, just breathe"

♡ "I'll stay for as long as you need"

♡ "you can trust me"

♡ "can I touch you? is that okay?"

♡ "you don't need to apologize, ever"

♡ "hey, hey, you're alright! it's okay, just calm down"

♡ "shh, shh, you're okay now"

♡ "here, hold my hand"

♡ "there's no shame in crying, I promise"

♡ "are you crying?"

♡ "you are what's important right now"

♡ "I've got nowhere else to be"

♡ "I'm at the hospital"

𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

♡ "I don't want to die"

♡ "I was only using you"

♡ "stay away from me"

♡ "why am I always your second choice?"

♡ "we almost made it"

♡ "leave I don't want to see you"

♡ "why are you helping a monster?"

♡ "I'm barely holding on"

♡ "can I leave now?"

♡ "I guess that's just how little I meant to you"

♡ "I just want to know you care about me"

♡ "stop looking at me like I'm damaged goods"

♡ "there's no us and there never was"

♡ "you deserve so much better"

♡ "don't do this here"

♡ "am I too late?"

♡ "say something, just fucking say something"

♡ "I know. I know I wasn't enough. I always did"

♡ "I did care, I used to care"

𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

♡ "shh, stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair"

♡ "can I borrow your sweater? it smells like you"

♡ "you're my new pillow"

♡ "I'll be here to protect you"

♡ "it's okay, I couldn't sleep anyway"

♡ "you make me so happy"

♡ "aww, you're blushing"

♡ "wait...is this a date?"

♡ "can I kiss you?"

♡ "I'm glad you came"

♡ "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified"

♡ "thank you for being her for me"

♡ "you're so pretty when you first wake up"

♡ "I want you to stay, please"

♡ "dance with me"

♡ "your eyes are so pretty"

♡ "is someone sleepy?"

♡ "can I kiss you?"

♡ "you're so warm"

♡ "this/these are my favorite"

𝘚𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘧𝘪𝘤

♡ “you’re sure I’m sick?  ‘cause I feel fine”

♡  “I really cannot be sick right now”

♡  “everyone gets colds.  I’ll live”

♡  “I really hope this is just my allergies”

♡  “stop thinking so loud; my head hurts”

♡ "I'm scared"

♡ "I can't even talk properly"

♡  "I feel like I'm letting everyone down"

♡ "you're making a big deal out of nothing"

♡ "I'm so tired..."

♡ "no, you're not fine. you're burning up”

♡ "you need to rest. I'll stay here with you until you feel better"

♡ “just let me take care of you"

♡ "here, take my blanket”

♡ “I’ll make some tea”

♡ “you're in no condition to go anywhere”

♡ “just rest and let your body fight this off"

♡ “take this medicine, please"

♡ "I'm here now”

♡ "right now, the only person you need to help is yourself”

[writting-stuff-sometimes]

Night in Vegas- Lando x fem reader

Summary: Y/N had been Lando's PR, it had been messy and she moved to Red Bull, but maybe things were not as bad as she thought.

Warnings: Abusive Max (Sorry someone had to be the bad guy) smutty ending.

Notes: No hate to anyone this story just needed a villain.

___________________________________________

The moment the job offer came from Red Bull you didn't think it twice. You had been Lando's PR for the last 2 years, which was kind of a nightmare. He had the worst cases of verbal diarrhea, not that Max didn't but the paycheck was worth the extra work. Also, the interactions with Lando had always been weird and uncomfortable.

He was so nice and funny around everyone else but you, whenever it was just you two, you could hear the grass grow. In the beginning, you tried to get to know him, create somewhat of a bond so you could understand him better and work around that info, but every time you tried to get him to tell you something about him he would shut you out, keeping his answers short and dry.

And here you were, your first six months as Max PR agent were...interesting, he was a master in driving but thanks to his dad and the people around him, his public image was a challenge, a challenge you loved to work, at least you did until he started showing his real self. It began with small tantrums, mood swings when an interview had been scheduled when he had agreed to go play paddle, or that one time on a bad day when a reporter asked him about his dad's history with the law even when you had precisely warned them not to ask about any of that.

But that was all fun and games until tonight's event for the Vegas GP. Usually, the US GP's parties were a nightmare. Tons and tons of media people and influencers with little idea about F1. Yet they were important to attend because of the amount of rich people the teams craved as their lawful sponsors, so all the drivers were requested to go. This meant an awful fight with Max who hated these events where he had to "prostitute" himself for a couple of millions, it was particularly tricky now that some pictures and supposed messages showing Kelly might have been cheating, surfaced. You promised him to warn everybody that any questions about his personal life were off the table for any of the interviews, but American media cared little about that.

"Are you stupid or something?" His angry voice was so much like his dad's. Dry, hurtful, and insulting even when he wasn't using big curse words.

"Max, I told everyone personal questions were off the table. I sent a memo last week and a reminder this morning" You walked following him closely as he exited the event venue. Your heels making it difficult for you to keep his pace.

"I don't care!" He stopped and turned towards you abruptly, making you crash against his body. "If Christian gives me any shit about not being here I will make sure he knows this was all your fault" His voice loud and angry felt even more intimidating as he was towering over you, his red face so close to yours you could feel the heat radiate from it.

"But-"

"Shut it, I don't want to hear it" He spat.

"Hey, mate, easy" You both turned to look at the curled hair driver approaching at a firm pace.

"Lando, this has nothing to do with you"

"It does when you're talking like that to Y/N" He gently held your arm pulling you back, placing himself between you and Max.

"How did you deal with this shit for two years? she's the worst"

"I disagree, she's the best"

"What? Why are you defending her?" Max looked in shock from Lando's intervention, and to be honest, so were you.

"Because I know the mess you are and you talking to her like that is unacceptable and most likely uncalled for. We should've never let her go, I've begging Zak to get her back and after this, there's no way I'm letting her stay at RB"

"What the fuck? I don't...Wait, did you two ...? She must be a good fuck if you want her back so bad" A bitter laugh left his chest.

There it was, the angry verbal diarrhea.

You wanted to jump in and tell him you had never even crossed two complete phrases with Lando, how the hell were you going to fuck him? But no sound left your body, you were just a passenger in this trainwreck.

"Max, come on, It's not her fault your life's a fucking mess and that you have no idea how to deal with it. And take it from me, mate, you don't need a PR manager, you need a therapist."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Max took a couple of steps forward and faced Lando menacingly. He wasn't much taller than the Brit but seemed angry enough to cause damage.

"This is enough" You finally spoke, your voice shaky as you grabbed Lando's arm trying to pull him back. But he didn't move an inch.

"I'm not afraid of you mate" Lando hissed.

"Ok enough" You said in the most motherly voice ever and stepped in between them. "Lando, thanks but that's enough. You two don't want to do or say anything you'll regret later"

"See you on the track, mate" Said Lando as he took your hand and pulled you toward the parking lot.

You walked with him still in shock from the situation, expecting for him to let go of your hand as soon as you were out of sight from Max, but he kept going until he reached the Valet and gave him his ticket.

"Thanks fo that" You tried breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I think I need to go back there tho, I might not have a job tomorrow, but I don't need them to fire me because of not complying with my duties, Maybe I can find Max and convince him-"

"If they don't fire you, you're quitting" He said as he typed on his phone.

"What?! No, I can't do that, I can't afford to lose my job"

"You'll have a job"His voice was confident as he kept typing.

"Lando, I really-"

"Your car, Mr.Norris" The valet cut you off opening the passenger door for you.

"Get in" Lando walked toward the door to hold it himself.

"Lan-"

"Get in... please" He finally looked at you, something in his eyes telling you to do it. Not wanting to perform another scene now in front of the valet, you got inside the fancy McLaren. Your feet thanked you for the much-needed rest after the little sprint.

He removed his suit jacket, got in the driver's side, and drove off.

"I swear, you're not going to be jobless, you can stop with the bouncy leg" A hint of a laugh in his voice. Of course, he could laugh about it, he was worth millions, if he lost his job that same night, he'd have enough money to live comfortably for two lives.

Your phone started ringing in your bag. Chirstian's face on your screen made your heart beat a thousand miles. You could almost hear him, his calm yet angry voice made your skin crawl.

"Don't answer him, there's no need"

"Lando, you don't get it, it's not that simple"

A ding on his phone and a pop-up notification on his console screen called your attention.

Zak: Fine, I'm ok with it, we can talk details tomorrow.

"See?" He said smiling at the notification. You stared at him confused.

"I promised him I would behave my best for the rest of my contract if they took you back. Welcome back to Mclaren" A big smile on his face. It was odd being on the receiving end of that smile.

"Sadly, you won't be working with me. You will be part of the team's PR, I think that's an even bigger paycheck, tho"

"Ok, stop stop stop" Your voice filled with slight panic. "What the fuck's happening?"

"Wow, your first bad word" He was way too entertained with the situation.

"That you know of" Your facade was off, screw being professional, this moment was a moment for panic.

Christian's number shined on your screen again.

"Hello" You finally answered.

"Y/N, I just got a thousand messages from Max, and from the team at the event, what's going on?"

"Christian, Max lost it after some journalist asked him about Kelly, I had clearly said no questions about that were allowed"

"You should not have left Max to leave the party, we need him back there"

"I tried to stop him but-"

"No buts, Y/n, that's your job"

"No"

"What?"

"No, that's not my job, I'm not a babysitter, I'm a PR agent, I should not be dealing with tantrums and the equivalent of being spit in the face by an angry baby just because he's Max Verstappen"

You took a deep breath as the man on the other side of the phone kept quiet. Netflix would kill to have footage of this situation.

"I quit" You finally said

"What?" His high-pitched voice told you he was as surprised as you by the words leaving your mouth. You turned to look a Lando, he had the biggest smile on his face.

"I quit, Christian. I can stop by to sign my resignation tomorrow."

"But-"

"I'm sorry but I have to go now. I will stop by your office tomorrow to sign whatever is needed and to return my credentials. Have a good night" You hung up with shaky hands. As much as you sounded confident you were screaming inside.

"Nice" Lando's accent so thick.

"Oh my God" You placed your head between your legs and took deep breaths, trying not to faint.

"It's ok, it will all be ok" You felt his hand run softly up and down your back which felt weirdly soothing and calming.

You finally felt calm enough to lift your head, realizing he had pulled over at a truck stop next to the highway.

"What the fuck just happened?" You closed your eyes, the world felt as if it was spinning out of orbit.

"It will be ok, you were amazing"

"I will regret this tomorrow"

"I could help you with that" he said under his breath, you barely catching his words.

"What?"

"Never mind. Listen, you'll be fine, you'll join the team for the next season, and you can take this time as a well-deserved vacation"

"What are you talking about? Maybe Zak only told you that so you would stop bothering him. I can't wait until the next season. Oh my God, I need to call Christian back, if I apologize and explain that I was drunk or something he might not fire me" you said as you fumbled with your phone trying to get your shaky hands to get your calls.

"Stop, no, Y/n" In a swift move, Lando took your phone from your hand.

"Give it back! This is all your fault!"

"What?!"

"If you had stayed out of this I might have convinced Max to go back to the party and none of this had happened" You said as you almost jumped over him to get your phone back as he moved his hand around keeping you away from it.

"Oh c'mon, you wouldn't have lasted two more weeks with his annoying ass, I love Max but he's a pain" He sounded way too entertained by all this.

"Lando, stop it! Give me back my phone!"

"No, you have to calm down"

"No, give it back" you were almost kneeling over the seat.

"Y/n, stop"

"No"

"Y/n!"

"NO, GIVE IT-" Before you could finish your sentence his free hand grabbed you from your neck and pulled you toward him, his lips crashed into yours, finally getting you to stop moving. You even stopped breathing.

After a couple of seconds or hours, you weren't sure anymore, he let go of the fist he had formed around your hair and pulled back. His cheeks flushed as if he had been the one who had gotten kissed out of nowhere.

"Have I been drugged? Am I hallucinating? This has to be a weird trip"

His particular laugh sent chills down your spine.

"C'mon, it wasn't my best job but I'm not used to kissing people as they're having a panic attack, I needed you to calm down"

"And kissing me was the best you could come up with?"

"You're not thinking about your phone or Christian anymore, are you?"

"You're sick"

"Listen, I'm sorry I did it like that, ok? I stepped over a boundary and I apologize, but I know that after this you might hate me for the rest of your life and this seemed like the only moment I was going to be able to do it, so I'm sorry but not really"

"You can't go around kissing people just because"

"I didn't do it just because"

"What?"

"Y/N, I'm fucking in love with you!" He screamed.

"What?" Your voice is barely a whisper

"I'm sorry, I was dumb ok?"

"I'm not getting any of this"

"Ok, I'll explain. It took me about 2 months to fall head over heels for you, ok? You're smart, incredibly beautiful, funny, and so good at your job, it was hard not to fall in love with you. But I know I can be an asshole, so trying to stay away from you and not ruin everything I behaved like an even bigger asshole, pushing you away and into Red Bull's arms. So as an apology, I've been having talks with Zak. this has been going on for months. So no this just didn't come up, Max just made it easier for me to set the plan in motion"

You stared at his proud face in awe.

"Are you breathing?" He asked when not. single sound had left your body for a long time.

"You're in love with me?"

"Um yeah" He blushed and almost looked away but he didn't.

"For the two years we worked together, you were in love with me?"

"Yeah, basically"

"You have a shitty way of showing love"

"Sorry" he laughed under his breath

"You're nuts"

"I know" As soon as he saw you had calmed down he stretched his hand softly caressing your cheek. "I'm nuts for you"

"Ew, don't"

He laughed, the sound making you feel something new.

"I don't know"

"What?"

"What's going on"

"Maybe another kiss might help? I'm actually asking this time"

"Ok" You answered in a low whisper.

"Ok" He softly whispered as he took you by the neck, and pulled you toward him. It was a mutual kiss now, your lips dancing with his. His tongue traced your lips and they parted allowing your tongue to start a fight with his.

The kiss heated up as his other hand grabbed your hips and pulled you over him. Your ass pressed on the horn startling both of you and making you laugh, but quickly you returned to your make-out session.

His hand shily traveled down your spine and stopped over the soft satin fabric covering your ass. You knew exactly what he was trying to test, so you moved yours down his chest, feeling his racing heart, and traveled down all the way to his pants. You could feel his growing bulge and you gave it a squeeze. He moaned deeply and he gave a slap to your ass, making you moan too.

You were about to unbuckle his belt but his hand landed over yours.

"Wait, do you actually want to do this?" he asked out of breath.

"Yes" Your voice shaky from the excitement.

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you or-"

"Lando, I want you to fuck me"

Your words sent an electric shock through his body, you could even feel his dick twitch under your hand.

"I'm all yours" He smiled and moved his lips to your neck, you threw your head back giving him space to explore it and its sensitive areas. He gave soft bites around it, as he stretched to the glove compartment getting a condom out of it.

"You're a manwhore"

"I was just manifesting this"

"Sure" you answered squinting your eyes.

"I promise, You can ask Oscar, I've not had sex for months"

"I don't need to know that"

"Yeah you do, I swear I wasn't going to use this with anyone else, I promise"

He was most likely lying, but you decided to believe him, at least for tonight.

"Fine" You said as you took the condom from his hand and opened it as your lips went back to his.

He helped you by pulling down his pants and his boxers enough for his throbbing cock to spring out and slap his stomach.

"Hello Mr. Norris" You said with a cheeky smile

"Don't act so surprised"

"Sorry"

He now took the hem of your dark blue dress and pulled it over your hips, softly caressing the soft flesh of your thighs and ass. He moaned at the feeling of no underwear under it.

"You're naughty"

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me"

"I love it" He said and bit your lower lip as he placed you over his hard cock. You took the condom and without breaking the kiss you rolled it over his dick, enjoying the feeling of the heat and the veins that ran through it.

He couldn't wait any longer and as soon as he felt the condom in place he lifted his hips entering you in one deep thrust making you moan loudly from the incredible feeling of being so full.

"Fuck, Lando" you said as he started thrusting. A slow yet hard pace made your eyes roll to the back of your head, as he held you one hand by the neck the other one caressing your ass.

"Fuck, you're so fucking perfect" He moaned against your tits that were spilling out your dress.

He took one of your nipples in his mouth, pushing you closer to your release.

You had forgotten when was the last time you had sex, but none of your previous experiences could compare to this one. Lando being a manwhore was quite a benefit.

His hips hitting against yours at such a perfect pace was driving you crazy. He could tell by the way you were pulsing around him that you were close. This was probably a record and he was going to savor it.

He brought one of his hands down to your clit and just a couple of circles helped by how wet you were pushed you over the edge, loudly moaning his name in his ear. That sweet sound looped in his brain, making him reach his climax shortly after.

"Fuck" he finally said after you two had reached a decent breathing pace.

"Shit"

"Fourth curse word of the night"

"Shut it" You said as you pushed yourself off his chest and kissed him.

"I'm going to love having you around again"

"Me too"

"Well, Max was right about one thing" A cheeky grin on his face.

"What?"

"You're such a good fuck"

"You're a dick" You slapped his chest as he pulled you back to kiss him.

This was probably going to be a mess, but at least for a couple of months you were unemployed and free to date whoever you wanted, that included F1 drivers who would probably be off limits once your contract started, but that was a problem for your versions of the future.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch,

[enkvyu]

7:02pm — gojo satoru ; part two to this imagine

"gojo, your hair is in my mouth."

"you're lucky i washed it a few days ago."

you peer up at him over your phone. "a few days? how many? gojo, tell me."

gojo hums to himself and you hate that it might be serious consideration that he's under. "like maybe seven?"

you gag, flailing at your mouth and spitting out the few strands. you faintly hear gojo complain but it's overridden as you deal with your dilemma.

the two of you were curled inside the stomach of one of getou's curses as it flew across the ocean to arrive back at jujutsu high. the cramped space and gooey flesh makes you shiver, effectively increasing your poor mood, but perhaps the biggest detriment was the person you were stuck with.

sure, public transport was a viable option but yaga had specifically emphasised on the "top-secret" and "classified" written in big bold red letters on the mission file. this meant no one was to know, not ordinary people, not curses and not even other sorcerers.

granted, the school had access to one private jet which they were willing to offer, but that jet only had space for one.

the three of you had sat down and played a game of scissors paper rock to determine who takes it, and while you were lucky to win it for the trip forward, getou ends up victorious for the way back.

and now, you were stuck in close proximity with gojo inside the gut of a flying dragon.

"why are you in such a bad mood anyway?" gojo has the audacity to ask, as if he wasn't the sole reason why you were uncomfortable. you keep your mouth shut though, nothing good will come out of admitting your undying, and unfortunately unrequited, love for him.

"i'm in a perfectly fine mood."

"why do you look like that then, all constipated and everything? did you not go to the bathroom before we left?"

you curl your fingers into a fist and punch him in the chest. it hits his uniform, smearing some of the curses' stomach juice. "of course i did! i'm not a newbie sorcerer."

"ouch!"

"that didn't hurt you."

"how are you going to tell me how i feel?" gojo jabs back. "because it did hurt, it hurt my feelings."

"oh boohoo."

"so you are mad."

you bite your lip and turn away, finding the abdominal wall of the beast easier on the eyes than your own friend. "i'm not."

"you're sulking."

"i'm not." you hiss before taking in a deep breath. "look gojo, can we just stay quiet until we get there?"

gojo keeps staring at you through his glasses and his face fails to give his thoughts away. the suspense is killing you, but before you can relent and ask what he has to say, he clears his throat.

"i have something to tell you."

you sigh, rubbing at your head. "what is it?"

"wait, don't turn around and keeping looking at the wall. hey, what did i just say?"

"gojo, the view isn't really the best to sightsee. why can't i look at you?"

"because if you do, i don't think i can tell you after all."

you close your mouth. "is it that serious?"

"yeah." he clears his throat again, adjusting the collar of his uniform. "look, i know you've been weird around me the past few days and i don’t think it’s because i stretched out your uniform when i wore it last weekend. i don't know why you’re being mean to me, and shoko and getou won't tell me either."

you resist the urge to look at him. "you're having this kind of talk with me now? here? seriously?"

"you won't even stay in the same room as me for more than a few minutes! getou may call this curse his bad-luck curse but for me right now it's the only way to get you to listen to me." he stays quiet for a few seconds. "this is really serious, okay, so don't make any comments. i know you're practically brimming with them."

it was true you had a lot to say, but gojo's serious attitude was putting you off. still, having him call you out made you more aggravated and you let one slip. "well, this is really bad-luck for me."

gojo clicks his tongue and you can see the irritation on his face before his words are even coloured with it. "i'm not telling you this so you can feel the same way but—"

the curse suddenly tilts to the side, throwing you into gojo as the four walls of its stomach becomes a wheel, rotating you around. you yelp as your forehead hits him hard in the chest, tears springing to your eyes at the pain.

“what’s going on?”

the two of you spin round and round, and you can't distinguish your screams from gojo's as gravity plays you like a toy, throwing you around.

the movement makes you sick. "gojo, do something! blast it!"

"getou'll get mad if i kill another one of his curses!"

"are you kidding, we're going to die!"

gojo swears, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you into his chest. with his other arm, he holds out his hand and presses it on the flesh.

you tuck your chin in, squeezing your eyes shut when you realise he hadn't started chanting his technique. "what are you doing?" you look up at him and find him staring at the exit of the stomach through all the goo and chaos.

with a trembling finger, he points to it. you stare into the abyss, squinting your eyes to make out its indistinct shapes. what was that pulsing thing, attached to the side? and was it just you, but was it getting bigger?

with a start, you realise that the curse was about to throw up. and coincidentally, so were you.

"it's going to throw us up!" you share your realisation with gojo but the look on his face tells you he already arrived at the same thought.

he opens his mouth to say something, or scream you're not too sure as the walls of the stomach contracts. distantly, you feel gojo slide his other arm around you and his infinity takes over, shielding the two of you as you're forcefully ejected from the curse's mouth.

a scream escapes your throat as you escape the curse's, wind rushing through your ears. gojo swears again, bringing his arm up to protect your head.

you only know you're safe when you feel air again, the real kind, not the gas built up in the curse's stomach. a thud tells you gojo has landed on solid ground again and you've never felt more grateful to be alive, your entire body relaxing as your soul leaves.

gojo sighs with you, his hold slightly loosening.

getou watches as you're spat out, stepping out of the private jet with a big smile on his face. "you guys look rough."

you feel gojo tense his jaw rather than see it. "what was that for?"

getou shrugs, throwing a bag over his shoulder. he starts digging through it. "i told you that curse is some serious bad-luck. at least you both arrived in one piece.” he looks up and raises an eyebrow at you. “literally in one piece, are you guys going to stay like that forever?"

your mind slowly pieces together your position, still curled up in gojo's arms as he is sat on the pavement, before you leapt out. gojo makes no move to stop you, though you think he might have tsked.

"here, this is for you." getou finally pulls out what he was searching for from his bag and throws it at the two of you.

you catch it instinctively, studying the object in your hand. "a can of soda?"

"for surviving."

"that curse of yours is a safety hazard." you mutter, but accept the can. you crack open the lid and tilt your head back, taking a long, cool sip.

gojo stares down at the drink. "i told you i don't like this flavour!" he complains and you roll your eyes at his antics.

"then don't drink it."

"no. give me your one instead."

getou pauses, halfway to opening his own iced coffee. "huh? i got this for me. and you don't even like coffee! you should be glad i even got one for you in the first place."

"let's play a game of rock paper scissors to decide who gets it."

"no. i just told you i got this for me."

gojo stands up, taking a step forward menacingly. "huh? after what you put me through, you think i'm just going to take no for an answer?"

getou's eyes flicker to yours before he takes up gojo's challenge, activating his cursed technique. black liquid opens up the air beside him, a peering red eye on the other side. "can't handle rejection, gojo? because you better get used to it."

you take another sip as you watch the boys, absentmindedly wiping at a stain on your sleeve. you remember the feeling of gojo's arm around your body and you blush despite yourself.

"are you feeling sick?"

you look up to see that gojo had stopped fighting with getou, his entire attention on you.

"huh?"

"you're red in the face. you look like a tomato."

ignoring the last part, you hide your face behind your drink. "i'm fine."

getou looks between the two of you and there's a glint in his eyes that you've seen before, one that you've grown to dread.

he throws back the rest of his coffee, grimacing as it gives him a slight brain freeze, before crushing the can in his hand. gojo mutters a quick, "show off" that he ignores, instead chucking the can into a bin a few metres away.

"what a time." he starts saying, the words static. "that was great. well, now that i've finished my drink, i should head back inside."

“i should head in too. i smell real bad.” you sigh and give gojo a glare when he agrees.

“actually, can the two of you stay here? i think my curse isn’t feeling too well after eating you two. just until i come back, okay?”

you think there might be an ulterior motive but glancing over at the curse, you find that it did look greener than before.

"where are you going, and for how long?" you ask and hope the look in your eyes will make him stay.

"i need to tell yaga we finished the mission. you guys can just stay here, i've got it." then to you, he says, clenching his fist in support, "you got this."

you want to break his arm.

getou hurries away despite your silent plea, leaving you in an awkward silence with the one person you wanted to avoid most. you take multiple quick sips to busy yourself, but you can’t ignore the person standing by your side.

gojo shifts his balance to his other foot and the sound of his shoe against the pavement breaks the silence. "so."

"so."

"it's really bright, huh."

"you're wearing sunglasses."

"and do they completely cover my eyes? no they don't. i can still complain about the sun."

"just push your glasses up then."

"no." gojo huffs. "i look cooler this way."

"who told you that? because i know for a fact it wasn't anyone whose opinion actually matters." you jab back.

"your mum said that, actually."

"are you a child?"

"what, are you too cool for old jokes? they're iconic for a reason."

"and there's a reason why 'your mum jokes' died and should stay that way."

the natural way in which you banter with gojo gives you confidence. maybe it didn't matter that you liked him, or that he didn't like you back. it was enough that he was here with you now, joking around. perhaps you could even live with knowing that your unrequited love had come to an end, perhaps you could even pair them up yourself without a sense of bitter jealousy.

"i know you like getou." gojo says in one breath.

the peace you had come to, shatters.

"what?" you say in an inhale, and it comes out sounding weird.

gojo pouts, crossing his arms. "i'm right, aren't i? you like getou. i heard what you were saying to shoko that one time."

"don't eavesdrop on other people's conversations!"

"you were saying it pretty loudly, what was i meant to do? shut my ears?"

you wave away his whining. "stop, hold on. you think i like getou?"

gojo nods. "i don't think you do, i know. you said you like people like him."

"when did i ever say that? also, i'm not the one who likes getou, you are!"

"what?"

"what, what? you do, don't you? you told me yesterday that you liked getou."

"i never said that!"

"then who were you talking about?"

"who were you thinking about?" gojo shoots back. "because you didn't even hesitate when you explained your type to shoko. you were thinking of someone, weren't you?"

you gulp. "i asked first."

he looks at you long and hard and you stare back at your reflection through his glasses. his mouth opens and there's a mixed sense of dread and anticipation brewing in your stomach.

"tch."

"did you just click your tongue at me?"

gojo faces away. his jaw is tense as he blatantly ignores your question. "you're really annoying."

"huh? speak for yourself!"

"you have a problem with me?"

"i have a problem with your stupid attitude."

when gojo closes the distance between the two of you, you take a step back out of instinct. it doesn't matter though because gojo steps forward again, pushing you up against the curse getou had left behind. he slams a hand into the flesh of the curse and it makes a startled sound. the both of you ignore it. "it's you, idiot, i like—"

the force behind his slam is frightening, but the thought is torn from you when the sound of regurgitation grabs your attention. with a start, you turn around at the curse and find your phone on the ground at the entrance of the curse's mouth, covered in goo.

"my phone!" you exclaim, bending down to pick it up.

gojo backs up and groans loudly, but you don't care, wincing instead when the item is sticky.

"i didn't even know i lost this! thanks gojo, i think." your voice trails off wearily, holding up the phone and watching as viscous liquid slowly drips off it.

gojo rubs his face with his palm and you wonder why he looks so distressed. "that curse is seriously bad luck." meeting your eye, he points a finger at you. "listen to what i have to say!"

you raise your eyebrow at him. "damn okay, gojo's arrived." you mutter, wiping down the phone and pocketing it.

the clouds overhead parts, sunlight shining down in rays. the trees whistle in the summer breeze and light filters through the gaps in the leaves and branches. it hits gojo perfectly, adorning him in a golden light and you've never seen him so beautiful. guilt fills you at the thought and you hold your soda tighter.

he breathes in one more time. "i don't care that you like getou." he says. "because it doesn't matter to me. it just means i have to work harder to change your mind and get you to notice me instead."

"it's kind of hard to not notice you." you say. "i mean, look at what you're wearing."

gojo hisses. "don't ruin the mood, you're throwing me off. like i was saying, it's not your fault you like getou but i had to tell you this anyway, because it's been making my heart feel all prickly and stuff. so shut up and just stand there looking pretty, or whatever." his last few words trail off uncertainly, as if he never intended to say them at all.

"what are you even saying?" your heart picks up. was he about to confess?

"i'm saying that i think i like—"

"there you guys are!"

your head whips around at the voice, scanning the familiar landscape before settling on a single person. shoko stands metres away, waving a hand to grab your attention. "over here!"

"shoko!" a grin splits across your face. "i haven't seen you all day!"

"am i interrupting something?" she yells to get her voice across the distance.

you don't even look over at gojo as you shake your head. you had a feeling he was just going to tell you something you already knew, that he liked getou, anyway. “no! hold on, i'm coming over."

before you can run up to her, gojo grabs your arm, a deep frown etched on his face. "wait, you still haven't—!"

without another thought, you hand him your half-finished can of soda and wriggle out of his hold. "you can have the rest of that. i'll hear you out later, okay?"

"but the mood was so right!"

"look after the curse until getou’s back, later!"

gojo stands there in front of the bad-luck curse, one arm limp by his side and the other holding a can of blue soda. he watches as you fling yourself into shoko's arm, already listing all the things you've been saving up to tell her.

there's that prickly feeling again, gojo realises, noting the way the sun lightens the shade of your hair, the way your eyes curve up as you smile, and the way you hold onto shoko's hand, wishing that he had enough courage to hold yours.

defeated, battered and drained, gojo looks down at the can in his hand, and notes the slight lipstick stain on the rim.

with a red on his cheeks that didn't come from the sun, he presses the aluminium to his lips and takes a sip. it tastes sweet.

gojo decides that he'll just have to settle for this.

i hope this was okay considering i had no intentions of writing a part two. sorry for all the descriptions of stomachs and throw up, i was studying the digestive system 👎 if this isn’t what u guys expected feel free to leave a request !!

[hanasnx]

re-hash

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 0.9k WARNINGS: explicit sexual content | f!reader | established relationship | daddy kink | mild dacryphilia | size difference

JJ MAYBANK's no stranger to being called "daddy." It's practically one of the only things you wanna call him in bed, and something about it just hits. Maybe it's his own raging daddy issues, or the fact it signifies an authority figure, someone to look to. JJ likes calling the shots, and who better to call shots than Daddy? Before you'd introduced that petname to him, using it as a taunt was pretty common. In the midst of a fight, he'd tease his opponent with a little beckoning: "Tha's right, come to Daddy." If a variation was in order, he wasn't a stranger to switching it out for "Papa."

He didn't take into account how far it could go though. Addressing him as your daddy was commonplace, but while he's working on his bike, he gets introduced to something different.

"Pass me that, will you, duchess?" he asks, brows furrowed at the metal in concentration. He holds out his hand for you, and you walk while you read a little paperback book. The spine is weathered.

You hum confirmation, and toe over, plucking his tool from its location. Its hefty weight causes it to drop into his palm more than you meant to, but your focus is still on reading. "Here you go, pa."

He registers your words, and slows to a halt. Unlike him, you're invested in your story, index fingernail toying with your lip unconsciously. The crease in his brow deepens, tilting his head. "Uh," Looking at you through an eye because of the sun glare, upper lip raising to the corner of his nose like a curtain. "What was that, sugar?"

"Hm?" you question, raising your brows in question as you respond to his gaze with your own. "What'd I say?" You're not entirely sure what had occurred, the fresh words from your page still echoing in your mind.

"Called me 'pa.'" he reminds you, his twinge of southern twang apparent in his phrase. Unable to hold your eye contact, he glances down at the tool he fidgets with in his lap, picking off some dirt.

"I did?" In disbelief, you frown, a hint of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking—"

He shakes his head. Minutely disappointed you didn't double down. "No, s'fine. S'fine." He pouts his lips, and twitches his nose when he sniffs, scratching it with the back of his hand. "No big deal, sweet pea, I don't mind it." He returns to his bike.

Later on, he doesn't let you get away with playing dumb. "What was it that you called me earlier?" His arms shake with effort, holding himself over your head as his hips rock into you, your legs folded up on either side of him. "Huh? Duchess?"

"JJ!" you chide, but it comes out in a sultry whine, your body bobbing with his movements as his dick lodges all up in your insides. "What are you talking about?" There you go playing dumb, and he won't have it. Callused hand slots itself in the crook of your knee, hooking your leg over his shoulder to stretch you out. You yelp when his head hits a new and deeper angle inside you.

"Nah, nah, don't be like that." he snickers breathlessly. "What'd you call me earlier? Know you wanna say it. Lemme hear it, bae, c'mon," He goads you, and you can tell his accent is more defined at a time like this. It's mouth-watering. Or his long cock rearranging your insides is.

His blonde curls fall into your face as he looks down, watching your cunt slurp him up while you cry out each full sheath. Moans are practically shoved out of you, like there's no room to keep them inside when he buries himself to the balls in your little cunt. Worsening his pace, slapping skin on skin because you're not obeying him.

"JJ, it hurts! It hurts!" you sob, clutching onto the fabric of his side slit shirt he still wears. He pushes your hand off of him, picking himself up to sit on his knees. He tucks the hem of his top between his teeth, displaying his contracting abs as he gets into position. Briefly, you're granted a reprieve, but that's only because he's switching things up on you, slotting his hands under your hip bones to raise you, biceps swelling from the action. Desperately, you catch your ragged breath, until he handles you back onto his dick. He doesn't reintroduce you to inch after inch, no, he bottoms out straight away, plunging his length into you while yanking you into it. You thought it was hell before, now you're near tears, mindlessly reaching out to him as if to wordlessly ask for a breather.

He keeps his hardened concentration where your bodies conjoin, a ring of cream forming around his base, and he scoffs through his nose. You thrash, but you're spasming around him. "Guess this pussy can take some abuse, huh?" he asks rhetorically, muffled by the shirt between his teeth. "So squirmy. She's flexible, I'll give her that. How's about it, baby, wanna tell me now?"

You fist bangs against his forearm, taut from his hold on you, fingers digging into your flesh as you fight him. "Pa! Pa, please! Ugh, you're so mean!"

He drops his shirt so he can speak clearer, "Yeah, but your Pa fucks you good, huh? Right? Pa fucks you nice, and good." Deliberately, he rolls his abdomen, and in turn, pistoning his cock into you in way that has your lashes fluttering. His movements, forcing himself to be slow and steady, causes him to shake from effort, every muscle flexed as he fucks you. Your leg still haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, and he feels your own tremble travel from your core to your toes. "Say it. Say it or I swear I'll tear you in two."

"You fuck me good, pa, you fuck me nice and good. Nobody does it like you, daddy, I swear."

[roach-works]

ok im waffling on about fallout instead of having breakfast but i saw a criticism of how the prisoners were treated that's stuck with me.

spoilers!

so i think the criticism wasn't incorrect, per se: it condemned the way the show portrayed the vault dweller's naive intention to rehabilitate their murderous captives. it found fault with a common, and horrible, message that tv shows like to say, which is that carcerial violence and even the death penalty is the only effective way to deal with criminals, who are a fundamentally Bad category of human. im sick of that message too! but i think that wasn't what was going on here, actually.

so like, the vault dwellers had only ever experienced violent loss the once, and didn't really know how to cope other than denial and repression of the ordeal. but they were all hopeful and enthusiastic that their prisoners, the invaders that came to kill them all and take their stuff, could be eventually welcomed into the community as their comrades. the champions of this cause were nebbishy dorks and painfully out of touch academics. this is pretty normal for how prison reformers are portrayed, if extremely fucking annoying for those of us who ARE in favor of prison reform.

but so of course when the son of the former overseer, Norm, speaks up and suggests killing the prisoners, because why should they share resources with invaders who explicitly wanted to keep hurting them? why should they show mercy to their attackers? everyone is appalled by this suggestion. because they had to reinvent the whole concept of vengeance right then and there, because grudges and cycles of violence are anathema to a bottle society like theirs. they have been raised all their lives to forgive and forget and now, put to the test, they're recommitting to this ethos: get along, let the past go, look towards the future, believe the best of everyone.

but the prisoners die, anyway. the prisoners are killed with rat poison. and the thing is that Norm who suggested it didn't do it himself. and the prison guard who's blamed for it, even though she privately agreed with Norm that the prisoners are dangerous and unforgiveable, she didn't do it either. it's not a moment of triumphant, cathartic vengeance and it doesn't prove that there's no way to negotiate with terrorists and invaders but kill them like vermin because that's not what the message is meant to be.

the message is that norm stands there in the middle of these inconvenient prisoners, these corpses dressed in his own people's uniforms, and he looks at the new overseer. and he knows that she killed them, and she knows that he knows. she wanted him to know. this is her message and he's reading her loud and clear. and he doesn't look like a guy who's just been backed up by authority, who's just been validated in his desire for the ultimate control over those who have wronged him.

he's scared and pale and the music is ominous as fuck. and he's inside the cell, he's directly in the middle of it.

because what just happened is that he realized his entire society is being held prisoner, and the overseer is the one with the rat poison. and that he doesn't know, anymore, what freedom and safety and justice actually mean, just that he doesn't have them and he doesn't know where to find them.

that's what that scene meant. not that rehabilitative justice is a pathetic delusion of people who have no idea how to make hard choices.

but that before you advocate for killing prisoners, you might want to see how big that prison is, first.

and which side of the bars you're standing on.

[appleblueberry-pie]

hear me out- yandere Miguel capturing us after we managed to escape from his lair (he kidnapped us) and us dealing w/ the consequences he put up for us 👀

Anyways thank youuu 🤭

I Thought You Knew Better Than This.

You've never thought your own home could look so ruined. He threw and destroyed everything. Your walls covered in claw marks in certain places with big and heavy pieces of furniture destroyed and laying on the opposite side of the room it's supposed to be on. You tried to make minimal sound as his hand on the back of your shirt continued to hurt you. Miguel hasn't stopped breathing heavy since he found you hiding in your little corner. He was seething. Absolutely furious with how the way things have turned out. It was supposed to be a simple day today. He drowns you in his luxury and money while he also indulges in the feelings of happiness that your happiness gives him. But when he was distracted and had his back turned, you disappeared without a second to spare, taking his patience and mercy with you.

Even though he wasn't wearing the symbol of his power, his spider-suit, something about him wearing just regular clothes while chasing you as if he was a predator catching his prey made your heart pang in fear. You said nothing and kept to yourself as he practically shoved you into the fully formed portal.

When you two were back into your very carefully decorated and designed (he would call this your real bedroom in your real home)bedroom meant for your comfort and safety, Miguel sat on the edge of the bed and had you planted on his lap. Your back touched his hot chest and your each of your legs were spread out with the outer sides of his own.

You swallowed thick bile and continued to keep your mouth shut. Your eyes roamed around your room in hopes of self soothing your erratic inner turmoil. Miguel grabbed the lower part of your face and turned you to make eye contact with him. His eyes held some sense of control within him, but you knew his heart was telling an entirely different story. You tried your best not to look away, knowing how he feels about eye contact.

"Por qué te fuiste?"(Why did you go?) His voice was quiet as he asked. He spoke to you as if you were a child, and truth be told, you really really didn't want to tell him why. But the last thing you should ever do is lie. Especially to him. "I just.....I didn't want to be with you." You silently croaked out the answer, guilt showing in your eyes, but he didn't care. "Hm? Don't I give you everything? Don't I take good care of you? Papi no te cuida bien?"(Doesn't daddy take care of you?)

You slowly nod and he shakes his head. "I don't understand. Help me understand why you thought it was a good idea to run away. Please." You stutter as you try to answer as his hand somehow sneaked past your pants to rub his cold fingers on your clit through your underwear. ".......B-because I-" "Because you don't think. You just act immediately on your thoughts and leave me to clean up your mess. This is why I make you stay home."

No matter how hard you tried to ignore his fingers, your body somehow managed to build pleasure from the constant stimulation he was giving you. "I'm sorry." He rolls his eyes and begins to take off your pants. "Yeah." You didn't want to think about what he wanted to do with you. You drop the pants onto the floor once they pool around your ankles and Miguel manhandles you over his lap.

"Wait, no, Miguel. I don't wanna do this, I'm not ready!" You feel his digits prod at your entrance as best as they could through the small and unnecessarily damp part of your underwear that he caused. "It never seems like you're ready for me to give you any of your punishments, mi cielo. But don't you think it's time for me to give you what you deserve?" You squirm under his hold, and he rightfully continues to hold you down.

"No!" He coos at you while staring down at your panties, shoving the piece of the cloth to the side to access you more easily. "Mmmm, I think I should." Two of his digits poke at your hole and your shame drastically increases as you automatically whine at the feeling, squirming in his arms.

You hated, hated getting sexual with him. It wasn't fair that he had more experience than you and could play with you like an instrument, making you sing every song known to man. He was so good at touching you, you never wanted to try it again since the first time it happened. Knowing how hard it was to not only ignore him, but also how hard it was to go against his word when you and him both knew he could make you feel so good in ways you didn't think was humanly possible.

Miguel looks back up to see your reaction as he inserts his fingers and you immediately go silent. His fingers thrust inside of you two, three times and then on the fourth time, curls on that spot and you squeeze your eyes shut. A very small upward curve makes itself known on Miguel's face. He softly praises you and continues working your pussy out. "There, we go, bebé. No se siente increíble? Déjame escucharte."(Doesn't that feel amazing? Let me hear you). Your hands tighten their hold on his thigh and you shake your head no. He suddenly pulls his fingers out, licking them clean before tossing you onto the bed, immediately taking his hard cock out of his pants. "Está bien, nena."(That's okay, baby) He almost seems to say his words excitedly, rushing to mount your ass, one of his hands on the small of your back to keep you in place, his head hanging to watch the hot tip of his cock slip between the plush doors to his only escape to reality, indulging in you entirely. "........Tengo otras maneras de hacerte cantar."(I have other ways of making you sing.) He was gone, too far gone to stop and it was all of your fault.

He lets out a shaky sigh, leaning down to connect his chest to your back, now moving the hand that once was restricting you so that his body can take that role, and instead putting his hand in your hair to move your face to meet his. You look up at him with those adorable glossy eyes, the tears threatening to drop down your pretty cheek only makes him smile. "You did this to yourself, baby. Don't be so sad. All you have to do is let me do the work, okay? Just relax." Then his lips connect with yours in a sweet, loving kiss that you fucking hated. But your opinion never mattered in these moments, and it especially didn't matter when he kept deepening the kiss, groaning into your mouth as you felt him very gently intrude your entrance.

His kisses. His kisses successfully distracted you. Those plush lips making you forget your words. And when his tip oh, so gently kissed that spot inside of you when he was fully in, you felt your mind begin to buzz and didn't even realize you stopped trying to resist. Miguel took that moment to let his hands roam your heavenly body. There were only a few times he got to do this, and sadly, it was only when he was having sex with you. He wanted to be able to touch you every day. He wanted his hands to touch your stomach, your sides like this every morning and every night. He wanted to soothe your mind and body like this every day in any way he could, outside of a sexual context, because he knows he could. He just wishes you would love him back so he can give you what you truly deserve. Own him like you truly deserve.

But then he remembers you telling him he wasn't shit, his love wasn't shit, you wanted him dead, wanted him gone, he was worth nothing and the only thing you'd enjoy would be him in the dirt. Dead, gone, cold and forever silent, out of your mind. But what about all of this he built for you? What about those mornings you'd be in his arms and immediately realized you cuddled him all of the damn time in your sleep? What about those times he had to help you cook, had to help you with those weirdos who cat-called you outside, had to help you with your stress? Your pain that he took away from you? Just like this?

What about that? "Nothing I do is ever enough for you." His hips slowly roll into yours and you focus on the sheets in front of you, ignoring his crazy talk. "Maybe I should try giving you all that I got. Maybe then, you'll learn to be thankful." He grabs you by the waist and pulls you to the edge of the bed. Both pairs of feet touch the ground, but you both remain bent over the bed. His hands grab onto yours and pulls them up, giving you no space or peace of mind to be able to ignore anything he's doing to you.

The soft rolling picks up speed and force, the jabs he makes inside of you increasing in pleasure with each thrust. You begin making sounds you can't control, and Miguel smothers you with kisses on your neck, praising your actions.

You hated him. You hated how you began leaning into his affection and relaxed at his words as he fucked the logic out of your mind. You hated how he numbed your tongue and continued to abuse your sweet spot constantly, knowing how sweet you'll be to him afterwards. And even when you grind back into him, all of your muscles tensing as he rubs at your clit during your orgasm, you still find a way to try and curse his name, only for it to come out of your mouth as if he was an angel from heaven.

Miguel pulls out to shoot his load onto the sheets, knowing the relationship you two have isn't something he wanted his child to see. It'd take a few more months.

You let him clean you, wash the sheets, feed you and put you to bed. And you couldn't find it in you to complain, let alone have any kind of opinion of what just happened. Not when you were this tired. Miguel decided to skip work for the rest of the night to sleep with you. You don't say anything.

You curled into his arms, knowing the next morning will just be a mental battle with yourself over giving in or continuing this exhausting fight you were putting up. His hand softly caresses your head, the other one holding your body close to his. He is whispering to you in such a soft and lovely tone, it just makes you wonder how obsessed he really is with you. Skin to skin. He lulls you to sleep and stays awake for a good while, just to embrace the moment he's never given. Then follows you into his subconscious.

[lemoncrushh]

Show Me Your Texts, or It's Over

Summary: Harry finds out you've been in contact with your ex and gives you an ultimatum.

Warnings: angst, maybe a little gaslighting

Word Count: 1889

A/N: From my 2016 collection. This was based on a prompt selected by a reader. Very angsty. You won't like Harry in this, and maybe not y/n either. I almost didn't repost it, but please don't take it too seriously.

You hurried outside to your car, the summer heat threatening to burn you through your black shirt. You felt the vibration of your phone in your hand, alerting you of yet another text from Harry. He'd been texting you all morning and throughout your lunch break. It had started off as a harmless conversation of missing each other when he'd reminded you what time his flight arrived. You'd been apart for over a week, resolving to short late night phone chatter until one of you fell asleep, or the occasional text that left you cold and flat. Needless to say, you were dying to see him.

As the morning progressed, however, so did the texts. His flight was delayed due to weather. He wasn't sure if he'd make it in time to go home and change, so he'd asked to meet you at the dinner party. You argued back and forth, insisting that you were fine with being a bit late if it meant you could go together.

You knew without a doubt that this text that had just arrived was him telling you otherwise, but you were already running late and needed to get back to work. You'd been excited for and anticipating his return, but now you were just frustrated and perturbed.

Tossing your purse and your phone in the passenger seat, you drove back to work. It wasn't until you were settled back in your desk, running your hands through your hair with a sigh, that you decided to examine his newest text. You were surprised, however, when you noticed the name. It wasn't from Harry. It was from your ex-boyfriend, John.

Biting your lip, you swiped the screen to read the text.

Working hard, or hardly working?

You chuckled, texting him back quickly.

Neither. Just got back from lunch.

Damn, I was hoping to persuade you to meet me for a bite.

You grinned at your screen. John had texted you out of the blue two weeks ago. At first you were apprehensive about talking to him again. He'd been the one to break off the relationship, claiming he wasn't ready to commit. You'd taken that to mean he wanted to be free to screw around, so you'd given him the boot. Although you held your head up high, you'd been hurt, your self-esteem lacking. That is, until you'd met Harry. Harry had been the solace that you'd needed, lifting you up repeatedly by his words as well as his actions.

When John came clean with you in his texts, apologizing and admitting that you deserved much more than he had given, you'd decided to bury the hatchet. There was no point in being bitter about it, and you forgave him, not so much for his sake, but for yours.

One thing you hadn't done, though, was tell Harry about it. It wasn't really that you were trying to hide it from him, but you didn't want it to become a big deal. Harry knew how John had treated you. You'd told him repeatedly, and a couple of times had cried in his arms over it. So telling him this same ex that had made you cry was now texting you like an old friend...probably wouldn't be a good idea.

Sorry, you texted John back. Raincheck?

Better yet, how about you meet me for drinks later?

You gritted your teeth, not sure how to answer. Asking for a raincheck on lunch was one thing. Lunch you could do. Probably. But drinks after work? Besides, you needed to run straight home after work to get ready for this dinner party with Harry.

As though he knew you were thinking of him, Harry's name popped up with a new text.

Flight's been delayed longer. I should be home about 7.

Just as you were about to reply, another text alert from John popped up.

How does Margo's sound?

You swallowed hard, trying to decide who to answer first. Quickly, you typed out a message for John.

Sorry, I can't tonight. Harry's coming home.

As soon as you hit send, your eyes about popped out of your head. You'd sent it to the wrong person! Shit!

You saw the three little dots pop up, indicating Harry was typing.

What??

Calming yourself down, you decided to play it cool. It was an accident. He had no idea who the message was for.

Haha sorry baby. I was talking to a friend. Didn't mean to send that to you. I'll see you at 7.

Ok

Making sure you had John's text open then, you politely declined, sending him the text you'd originally intended to.

Oh ok then, John sent back. Maybe some other time. Have fun!

"[Y/N]!" you heard Harry call from the front of the house.

"You're home!" you squealed from the bedroom.

You'd hoped to meet him at the door, greeting him with lavish kisses, but right then you were in an awkward position on the bed, trying to buckle your high-heeled strappy sandal.

"Hi, beautiful," he said in a low tone.

You looked up to see him standing in the doorway. Temporarily dismissing your buckle, you stood to meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around him.

"Mmm, I've missed you," you murmured against his chest.

"I missed you, too," he echoed, "and you look gorgeous."

"What, this old thing?" you playfully scoffed, stepping back to allow him to view your ensemble completely.

A sexy grin spread across his face while he set his suitcase against the wall.

"I'll hurry and get ready. Wish I had time for a shower."

"Go ahead," you insisted. "I don't mind waiting."

"No, love, we're already late. I'll just change."

You sat back down on your bed, grabbing your phone while Harry undressed. You'd gotten a couple of texts from John earlier. When you'd told him you were getting ready for a dinner party, he'd asked you to send a picture. You thought it was a little odd at first, but so far he hadn't said anything that made you feel uneasy. You'd sort of slipped into this comfortable friend zone unexpectedly. So a few minutes before Harry had arrived, you'd sent John a selfie in your dress. He had yet to reply.

Tossing your phone on the bed, you stood and walked to the vanity to put your earrings on. As you were adjusting the second one, Harry passed by the bed.

"Who's John?" he inquired, shoving his arms into a clean shirt.

"What?" you turned to look at him. You noticed then he was inspecting your phone.

"You just got a text from a John," he added.

Oh no.

"'Wow, you look amazing!'" Harry quoted, reading the text that John had apparently sent. "'Sexy as hell!'"

Your entire body trembled as he lifted his head to glare at you.

"Who the fuck is John?" he repeated, his voice rising.

"Um..." you sucked in your lips, wringing your hands.

"Not your bloody ex boyfriend!" Harry nearly shouted, his eyes narrowed.

"Baby-" you started, but Harry interrupted you.

"You're talking to him again? After what he did to you?"

"Harry," you swallowed, stepping towards him. "Let me explain."

His face showed no sign of willingness to listen to any explanation though he remained rooted in his spot.

"He's been texting me a little," you admitted.

"A little?" Harry raised a brow. "For how long?"

"A couple weeks."

"A couple weeks?! Were you gonna tell me?"

You looked down at your hands, wishing you had something in them to hold.

"I thought you'd be mad," you said meekly.

"Well you were right about that!" Harry turned away from you, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck!"

"Harry, I'm sorry," you muttered sincerely. "But I swear, it's harmless."

He swung around, his eyes shooting daggers at you. "Harmless, huh?"

"Yes. He wanted to apologize for everything. I told him I appreciated and accepted his apology, and we just got to talking about what we've been up to, you know, like catching up. I told him about you and-"

"You've told him about me," Harry interrupted.

"Yes! He knows all about you. He knows you were coming home today and we were going to a party."

"Is that..." he paused, "is that who you were texting earlier today? When you sent me the wrong text?"

The look on his face told you he did not find it funny in the least, regardless of your trying to play it off like you had. You opened your mouth to retort, but decided it wasn't worth it.

"Yes," you sighed.

"Shit," Harry dropped his shoulders. He blinked slowly before reaching for your phone.

"Let me see the texts," he demanded.

"What?" you asked incredulously.

"The texts from him. Your conversations."

Anger building in your chest, you grabbed your phone out of his hand.

"No!" you glared at him. "That's ludicrous!"

"Why? Because you have something to hide?"

"No, I-"

"Then show them to me, [Y/N]."

You stood silent for a moment before shaking your head slowly.

"Show me your texts, or it's over," said Harry.

"You can't be serious," you contended, your voice just a whisper.

"Dead serious."

"You..." you began, but quickly surrendered, handing him the phone. "Fine."

You sunk down onto the bed while Harry scrolled through your text messages from John. You knew there was nothing wrong with them. It was the principal. Harry didn't trust you, and that angered and disappointed you.

You focused on Harry's belt buckle while he stood before you. You felt like a child. You didn't appreciate it. You loved Harry and you would never to anything to sabotage your relationship. A tear dropped in your lap, wetting your dress before you even realized you'd been crying. Sniffling, you stood up again to reach for a tissue on the vanity.

"[Y/N]," you finally heard Harry mutter. He cleared his throat. "Baby, I'm sorry."

You turned and looked at him, your eyebrows raised. He lowered the phone, dropping it on the bed. Then he stepped closer to you, reaching for your hands.

"I'm so sorry," he declared again. You noticed a glint of a tear in his right eye.

"I was telling the truth," you said.

"I know," Harry bit his lip, the side of his mouth turning up. "You mentioned me a lot."

"I did," you nodded.

"And you said you're madly in love with me."

"I did."

"And that you're happy. For the first time in your life."

You blinked. "Yes, I did."

"God," Harry ran a hand through his hair again. "I was a jealous prat."

You giggled softly before placing your hands on his chest. "What on earth do you have to be jealous about?"

Harry grinned. "I mean...I still kinda think he's trying something. But I like how you sidestep him every time."

"Because I don't want him, Harry," you conveyed. "I want you. Only you."

You gazed into his eyes until he slipped his hands under your ears and lowered his mouth to capture yours.

"I really missed you," he murmured. "Maybe too much. It's made me do something I never thought I'd do."

"I'm yours, baby," you promised. "You don't have to worry about a thing."

You slid your hands down his torso.

"Except maybe about being late for dinner."

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