#I have melted into a puddle and there I will stay

[brighteststar707]

Also for the ask game!! I'd like to make it sound all fancy and smart like I'm an English teacher, but my brain is too silly for that

6 - Something I remember vividly from reading one of your fics: Is it weird that the first thing that came to mind is Jaehee with pigtails from the 'Hair' fic you wrote for her? It was such a domestic piece, but picturing myself playing with her little pigtails and watching her blush as I call her cute, is something I still remember very vividly, oddly enough. I love Jaehee!! And I love the way you write her to bits and pieces. Soft coffee wife, my beloved <3

7 - What made me the most emotional after reading: Telepathy. It's always going to be Telepathy. Okay, maybe not always, but it'll definitely remain up there even in the future. I'd say it's my favorite fic of yours, actually. Which is... honestly very surprising, because I don't get as effected by Jumin/V stories as I do with Choi twins or Rika, for exactly! I do get sad and it's interesting for me to see them explored in different ways, but I never really felt... all choked up about them, you know? Well, you took that and slapped me right across the face with the masterpiece that is Telepathy./pos The way you wrote down the slow and painful process of drifting apart from your best friend... God, it felt both cathartic and painful. Probably because it's something I've experienced first hand, very recently, at that. Telepathy is a fic that left me laying on my bed and staring up into the ceiling, just thinking about it for a good 15 minutes. And, you know what? That's my favorite kind of feeling after reading a fic. I love Telepathy. I will gush about for as long as it exists. Go read Telepathy, ya'll.

8 - What I like the most about your writing: Descriptive writing. Now, it's probably because descriptive is my personal weakest point (in my opinion), and I tend to always focus extremely hard whenever I read someone else use descriptive writing in their works to learn new techniques and memorize if it sounds good or not. Either way, God, do I adore the way you manage to just paint the exact image of what's happening as I read. It's not too much, and it's not too little. It's just right. If I would write up everything I vividly remember from your fics, this ask would get too damn long, but what's important is that I often remember the exact location. How it looked. How it felt. How it smelled. How a certain character was dressed. How their face looked. Whether it was warm or cold. What sounds there were. It's those tiny details that make even the simplest of your stories shine so brightly! They just... get stuck in your head like your favorite song. And I think that's just amazing <3

I don't know what I did to deserve this Mia!! I've been sat here reading this over and over and feeling all warm and fuzzy🥺 Please don't worry about trying to sound English teacher-y, you've conveyed everything here so well.

Soft coffee wife Jaehee! I've made it my personal mission to write her soft and happy because she gets to little opportunity to do that in the canon routes (and I love her to bits and think she deserves the world). I'm so glad the pigtails imagery stuck! She deserves her cute moments too!

The Telepathy love!!! I will always appreciate love for Telepathy, it's one of those fics that will also always be one of my favs because of the writing process and the relationship between V and Jumin. It's a wonderful surprise to hear that my writing had that effect on you, especially for a relationship that doesn't usually affect you that strongly. It's all I could ask for, really. I'm very sorry that you had to deal with the slow loss of a friend. It's a uniquely painful experience and I'm sending you a lot of warmth <3

The details of my stories sticking in your head like a song.... Oooh I'm going to need a moment, that's one of the nicest things anyone has said about my writing. Thank you, Mia.

[brown-little-robin]

(to myself) why don't you calm down and paint more chickens. then you'll feel better

[starredforlife]

was gonna go to the gay bar but I inflicted psychological damage on myself by trying to do taxes and then listening to music from senior year of hs should I still go

[cathalbravecog]

Man... I can't stop thinking about the things that were talked about on the stream, especially the answer on my question - so... get ready for a ramble! its a long one. oops. i dont even know where im going with this, im just dumping my thoughts somewhere. half is about ttcc lore in general and the streams, the other half is about cathal and me projecting onto him deeper.

before i even hop deeper into this, it wasn't until early today that i learned that there was a whole drama about cranky's answers (regarding the graham and flint question and the whole "keep it sane" thing. i thought it was...off, but i understood it as 'do what you want people, just don't start any harassment because of ships and your favorite pairs'.

definitely could have been phrased better, though. at least we got a good response and an apology later from maven on twitter. but i legit did not know this was a drama until those twitter posts were made LOL. i dont interact with the fandom so i do not know how that answer was percieved by most. or if anyone except for me and my friends have had any thoughts about the question i asked that got answered.)

and what im tryna get to is that i get cranky isnt the one to be answering lore things, and probably didnt know what to answer... but it's still something to think about

because being told "cogs and toons just dont become how they are out of the blue" (paraphrasing here) as an answer to what cathal initially thought of seeing his dad be bet up and thrown off a tower is... confusing? he did say first and foremost that it has to be built upon before saying that. i understand that this is... a lot of characters! and cathal did have some focus on him thanks to the comic and they wanted to focus on other managers... but some have deeper, more intricate lore that's easy to grasp (especially the more, well, angstier managers like chip and misty.)

and we have gotten some extra lore for other managers like belle, mary, tawny.... thanks to thomas' rambles.

and it's definitely difficult for a team of volounteers working hard on a fan game together to make lore for all the characters, that are still very young in their *life span*, having been around for less than a year. despite ttcc being more character driven and focused on the cogs, it's still a game they have to run so they cannot focus on lore only and some game management has to be done first. there's a bunch of things they have to consider, like consistency and how fans may react, or possible themes or what they want the story to be...

and. yeah. its hard since. come on lets admit it. clash has an issue with how these are all given to us. hell, there's lore bits i still dont know about and im still learning because it's..so all over the place. a new player will not know about it. maven acknowledged this in the tweet and i really appreciate that, as it's honestly been my number one issue with clash, especially as someone who is there for the lore. (i mean, and the gameplay, i know some people who don't play the game itself much. well i sure do a little TOO MUCH because i have PROBLEMS. but im interested in the lore, too, yknow?)

some lore you cant learn from the wiki, and unless you interact with the community, you may never learn *where* all of this even is. if you werent live for certain lore there, it's hardly accessible to you. lore locked behind one time events, an arg website, wikis, discord chats... all that. it's hard to keep track of! i'm sure it's like that for both the fans and the writers. these characters are great, fun, and i love them, but the way we are given this information is... not the best. it's very easy to miss certain details.

it's especially bad if you're like me - only ever interacting with a close group of people you trust, (because people are scary especially a lot of... lore driven fans. yeahnoimeanshippers.sorry.and just big crowds of people in general) having only gotten back into the game recently AFTER most of the major lore events (first played once in 2019, then never again until january 2023) and also you dislike youtube and video content, so you dont watch it. something in your brain would rather if you step on a nail than watch a playthrough video (especially with commentary).

like in general it shouldnt be necessary to go through all these hoops just to know the lore! especially for things that may have little lore...

anyways, uh, back to cathal. i cannot stop thinking about this.

it definitely wasnt an answer to what i specifically asked - but possibly more so about... why cathal is the way he is? and despite what my brain and low self esteem during hard times may tell me - i do not believe that anybody is truly "lazy". i just dont think that exists. there's always some reason behind a person being unmotivated or lazy. even the little things!

but like... that's just kinda obvious. all toons and cogs have motivations. thats like... one of the basics of writing characters. have motivations for characters and reasons for why they are how they are. doesnt have to be anything tragic, just.... how they are as people.

it's totally unrelated to the question of what cathal thought about seeing his dad like that... but oh well! i asked that because i made up my own story around that already, and i just wanted to see what someone working on the game thinks about the same idea.

not to be Tumblr User CathalBravecog, but, of course I have projected heavily onto cathal. i have already stated how important cathal is to me as a character, especially with appreciating myself when im.. not exactly the most motivated. when im not doing much. taught me to appreciate breaks. hell! i keep preaching this myself. its okay to take breaks! and yet i often end up not doing it and i overwork myself on games and art and other things.

there's... a lot of things "wrong" with me that i don't have names for yet, especially due to not having a diagnosis for them, but they're very real feelings and they cause me to be unable to do things a lot of the time. various mental blocks and a new member of the gang... physical pai! hooray.

this... endless productivity we are forced and expected to do. it can take a toll on you. breaks are just as necessary and to say it's a thing that has to be re-learned is... sickening. hooray for living in a Corporate (clash) society, fellas.

one thing i can say is that i absolutely headcanon that cathal has adhd - though, maybe not the same type i do. i do not think he gets randomly hyper and wants to (and does) jump around everywhere and blurt things out randomly and impulsively. cathal here has the low energy, yknow.

i like that a lot of the content around him doesnt even describe him with the words "lazy" and "sleepy" instead.

every day is the same... even if his job is relatively simple, just watching over the camera feed - it's definitely boring... and having to do it every day is not rewarding. and being mostly alone and without consequence, he gives into wanting to do something else. he's got these huge screens and a room to himself, and he loves watching shows and cartoons... so he's gonna do that. it's more fun. it's stimulating. and especially with his dad being the one to give him his position, he knows that he's got nothing to really worry about there.

i also think it's a bit hard to be motivated knowing that... this war between the cogs and toons is just. endless. hell, again, he has to see his dad *everyday* be attacked by them. his body damaged after the fall - only to be fixed again. rinse and repeat. i would too, find it pointless. especially if you're like cathal, since i pointed out before that he is very kind and caring towards the other cogs. he's also thoughtful, noting that yknow... a lot of stairs to get to his room.

why do all that when you can chill... and feel good. do something that feels nice...

i don't have any names for this, but with how sleepy he usually is, that's definitely a thing to consider too. and just, from experience... being tired and/or sleepy it... dismotivates you even more. its so hard to start tasks even if you *want* to do them. and considering cathal mooost likely doesn't want to do his work on his own - then these tasks can be just. impossible to start.

like, i have struggled with this my entire life myself, just because of my adhd screwing with everything, but after getting covid and most definitely getting a form of chronic exhaustion from it.. things have been even harder. i pull myself through day and i barely have the energy to even start anything. sometimes i dont even do anything all day and... woops! still no mood or energy to do anything. i just work on random bursts of motivation and things that captivate me...

not sure how it relates to cathal, but, hey, if im personal here ill ramble about it too because WOW it has been biting me in the ass and i need to speak to Professionals About It

like... i dont think hes being "lazy" willingly, yknow? theres a reason behind it. it definitely is just... being sleepy, the comfort... the fun and stimulation doing something fun he's interested in (his shows) are just... stronger desires and way easier for him to get to. why struggle through something when it takes up all your energy, and then you feel no reward for it? yeah. exactly. even just "not feeling like it" is a reson. "not having energy" is a reason. hey, are these things to get better about if needed? certainly. i wish i could get help with this, it would help me in my life so so much. but should it be seen as ENTIRELY negative and as being a "hinder to society". hell nah. and i think thats swag. cathal is swag he can do this, good for him lmaooo. my brain is deteriorating i apologize.

there was... another thing i wanted to say, but i forgot. so i'll move on.

but just... yeah. i dont think cathal is just lazy. i dont believe in "laziness". he's got reasons for why he prefers naps and just... watching tv instead of doing his work. perhaps he does want to do these things, but gave up on trying. its not worth the effort, it does not feel good. its not stimulating enough to keep him going.

[loadsofcats]

Have a feeling that, if more of you read Riders of the purple sage by Zane Grey, you’d be going mad over Lassiter

[anto-pops]

babe! thinking about you. hope you're feeling betterrrr <3

I’m this 🤏🏻 close to making out with you, straight up

BUT THANK YOU FOR THINKING OF ME !! You’re so sweet to check in, I love you angel 💕💋 I do feel better, I’m mostly tired at this point and taking like 3 naps a day so that’s not too bad. Fingers crossed ya girl is negative by this weekend :’))

[berryfairyluvr]

hihi I loved the zayne princess treatment post could you do a sylus one as well please 🥹💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝

sylus and his princess (queen) treatment

pairings: bf!sylus x fem!reader

warnings: none really, maybe minor mentions of some memories

a/n: thank you for the love and the request xx hope you enjoy <3

With a high bounty on his head Sylus has many enemies. Now having you as his beloved partner in this dangerous life (and all the ones before and after) your life has taken priority over his own. Despite your stubborn tendencies, he always has eyes on you ensuring your safety.

He not so slyly suggests you stay at his place 99% of the time as an answer to any of your complaints claiming he has 'this and that' but really it’s to keep you close by.

You insist on waiting up for him after his many late night outings much to his opposition. The lamps dim lighting catching his eye through the window each time he returns to find you cutely tucked into yourself sound asleep on the plush couch. He’d chuckle quietly and scoop you into his arms carrying you bridal style down the dark hallways to the bedroom.

You often complained about the coldness of his marble flooring even in socks. He’s made sure to have his staff keep you slippers in your most visited rooms ever since.

You thought his shower was huge before? He had it expanded and added multiple shower heads. When you asked why, he responded with “Time is of the essence, now we can save it by showering together sweetie.”

He loves to accommodate you, adding a vanity to his bedroom, his and hers closet, shared armory access personalized just to your liking… The list goes on.

He’s discreetly possessive with his touches but it’s usually masked by his powerful demeanor. For instance, when the two of you are out he’s often guiding you on his arm or with his large hand splayed on the small of your back. At meals and meetings his hand finds its way to rest on your thigh.

He will not stand for any sign of disrespect towards you, those who haven’t learned that are met with something violently unpleasant. (Most times completely unbeknownst to you— Sylus makes sure you’re occupied)

You yap and he listens. Earnestly. And I mean undivided and devoted attention. He is so very fond of the way you light up like a child when speaking about your life.

His attention to detail is remarkable and he shows that in your everyday life. Whether it’s picking up on your favorite scent or noting what things make you relax more than others, he provides you with them as much as possible.

That travel magazine you’d been reading hadn’t gone unnoticed and to your surprise, he’d arranged for the two of you to escape reality and venture out for a vacation.

This man can compliment, and he can compliment goooood. He has no issue expressing his gratitude and respect for you through his words and oh boy is he good with his words.

Seeing you scared or fearful wounded him enough the first few times that it now melts him into a puddle at the first sign of worry from you.

this is his *please don’t be worried/upset* look

He doesn’t mind one bit helping you bathe and dress after a long day of work. He even brushes your hair.

Your words mean everything to him, he wants to hear it. (He praises you for it in return 🤭)

For all the excursions you often clung to him like a backpack atop his bike— he decided a spare motorcycle helmet just wouldn’t do for you anymore and had one made to match his.

His date at any and every auction, he revels in getting to flaunt you around all dolled up and on his arm. Some even say his demeanor changed since you began attending these events with him..

read zayne’s version here

requests open ❤︎

[nouearth]

when the snow settles.

clark kent x male reader.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. clark’s busy spoiling his sick boyfriend with cookies and cuddles—until things heat up when someone decides a kiss (and more) is the real cure for a cold.

𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 & 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓. one-shot [ 6.0k ].

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. male reader 〳 corenswet!clark 〳 established relationship 〳 sick!reader 〳 christmas!au 〳 sexual content: top!clark, bottom!reader, belly-bulging, breeding, rimming (r!receiving), praising, body worship, clark can alter the temp of his body (and dick).

Snow fell softly outside the apartment, blanketing Metropolis in a serene hush that contrasted sharply with the sound of sniffling from the couch. Clark’s living room was cozy, aglow with the golden twinkle of Christmas lights strung up around the windows. The faint scent of pine mingled with the sweet aroma of gingerbread baking in the oven, though the stuffy haze of your cold dulled the sharpness of both.

You sat bundled in a mountain of blankets, a tissue box on one side and a half-empty mug of tea on the other. Despite the misery of a congested head and the scratchy soreness in your throat, you couldn’t help but watch Clark with a mix of amusement and adoration.

In the kitchen, he moved with a carefree confidence, humming along to Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas as it played softly on his phone. He had insisted on baking cookies for the evening, declaring it the perfect way to boost your holiday cheer. Not that you needed much help in that department—his reindeer antler headband, bouncing with every step he took, was doing most of the work.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his strong forearms, and his glasses had fogged up slightly from the warmth of the oven. Even with the goofy apron he wore—a red and green monstrosity with “Santa’s Favorite Helper” embroidered across the front—he looked unfairly attractive.

Clark glanced over his shoulder at you, a soft smile spreading across his face as his gaze met yours. “You okay over there?” he asked, his voice gentle. “Need more tea? Another blanket? A better boyfriend?”

You groaned theatrically, flopping back into the throw pillows. “What I need is for my head to stop feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton.”

And stones—your flair for drama only worsened the throbbing ache from the sudden movement.

Setting down a tray of freshly baked cookies, Clark wiped his hands on a dishtowel and made his way over to you. He knelt beside the couch, one hand reaching up to take the temperature from your forehead while the other rested lightly on your knee through the blanket.

His touch was warm, steady, grounding.

“Still running hot. Sorry you’re feeling this way,” he said sincerely, his brow furrowing just a little. “If I could punch a cold in the face, you know I would.”

You laughed, but it quickly dissolved into a coughing fit. Clark was at your side in an instant, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back until the worst of it passed. “It’s so unfair that you never get sick,” you rasped, your voice rough and strained. “You’re just… immune to everything. Meanwhile, I’m over here melting into a Christmas puddle.”

“Wow. This is the thanks I get for baking you cookies? My boyfriend wishing ill on me?” He chuckled, resting his elbows on the edge of the couch to stay level with your gaze. "If it makes you feel better, Krypto would probably be thrilled to drink you up if you were a puddle! Likes his water from the spring... spoiled dog."

His grin was boyish and a little smug, and you rolled your eyes at him, though the corners of your lips twitched upward.

“What I’m saying is… we could’ve been sick together,” you muttered, “But I can’t even enjoy them. Look here.” You picked up one of the gingerbread cookies Clark had carefully decorated earlier, the icing swirls and tiny candy buttons a testament to his painstaking attention to detail.

The cookie felt firm yet inviting in your hand, its edges slightly crisp and still warm from the oven. Breaking off a piece, you popped it into your mouth, hopeful that even through the fog of your cold, some of the sweetness might break through.

Instead, all you got was the texture—a faint crunch that dissolved into a soft crumble on your tongue. The spice you knew should be there, the warm bite of ginger and cinnamon that normally screamed Christmas, was muted to the point of nonexistence.

You frowned, swallowing the flavorless bite with effort. A sharp, scratchy sting flared in your throat, the dry irritation making each swallow feel more uncomfortable than the last. The lack of taste was almost offensive, a cruel reminder of how thoroughly your cold had robbed you of simple joys.

Clark’s eyes flicked over to you, catching your expression as you set the rest of the cookie down with a defeated sigh. “Nothing?” he asked, his voice tinged with sympathy.

“Absolutely nothing,” you muttered, your voice still scratchy. “I might as well be eating cardboard.”

Clark chuckled softly, getting up on his feet to sit beside you. “Guess that means more for me, huh?” He reached for a cookie, his teasing grin faltering when he saw your pout, but his craving persisted nonetheless. “Hey, don’t worry,” he added, nudging your shoulder gently. “Once you’re better, I’ll bake you a whole new batch. Extra ginger, just the way you like it.”

“Yeah…”

Clark bit into a gingerbread cookie with gusto, clearly enjoying his own handiwork as he snuggled beside you on the couch.

“Mmm,” he hummed dramatically, his eyes widening as he made a show of savoring the bite. “Oh, wow. These might be my best yet. Sweet, spicy, perfectly baked—chef’s kiss.” He gestured extravagantly, grinning like he’d just won a baking competition.

“Not saying these aren’t good, but I’m pretty sure the last time you made cookies, Krypto got more excited than I did."

You were about to roll your eyes at his antics when you noticed a speck of icing clinging to the corner of his mouth and a small crumb nestled in the dimple of his cheek. It was such a ridiculously human detail—charming in its imperfection—that you felt a sudden pang of affection bloom in your chest.

“Here,” you said, laughing softly as you reached up and brushed the crumb away with your thumb, your fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. His skin was warm, and the bashful smile that tugged at his lips made your stomach flip.

“Didn't stop you from cleaning out the cookie tray...” he murmured, his cheeks pinking slightly as he quickly licked the icing from the corner of his mouth, completely oblivious to how endearing he looked. "Thanks."

You shook your head, biting back a grin. “You’re a mess,” you teased, but your voice was far softer than usual, betraying just how much the sight of him—unpolished, sweet, and so effortlessly Clark—had utterly disarmed you.

Clark’s smile softened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. His lips lingered for a moment, warm and impossibly tender against your fevered skin. When he pulled back, he looked at you with that impossibly earnest expression that always made your heart twist.

“It’s nice, though, isn’t it?” Clark murmured, his voice soft and warm, like the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting off his glasses. “The cookies, the Christmas specials, the decorations… being snowed in together. Like a Hallmark movie, but… not terrible?”

You could see the flicker of nostalgia in his eyes as he spoke, his tone carrying a quiet sincerity that made your heart ache in the best way. The soft crackle of the digital fireplace playing on the TV and the distant hum of holiday music only made the moment feel more intimate, as if the world outside had disappeared entirely.

A warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with fever. Clark had this infuriating knack for making everything—even being sick—feel like a kind of blessing, as long as he was beside you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, your voice rough but laced with affection. “Talking like I’ve got only two months left to live…” You tried for sarcasm, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Clark’s grin softened into something more tender, his gaze unwavering as he watched you. “Yeah,” you admitted quietly, letting out a small sigh. “It’s nice. Really nice.”

The weight of your words hung between you for a moment, and the corners of Clark’s mouth twitched upward again, this time into a bashful little smile. He didn’t say anything more—he didn’t need to.

Instead, his hand found yours beneath the blanket, his thumb brushing softly against your knuckles, as if to say everything he didn’t put into words.

You knew he was the strongest man in the world, but it was these quiet moments—his sincerity, his kindness—that made you feel like you were the one holding something unbreakable.

Clark squeezed your hand gently, his expression melting into something tender and a little uncertain. He studied you for a long moment, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every detail. “You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked softly. “I mean, really okay? I know I’m supposed to cheer you up, but I don’t want to push too much—especially if you’re not feeling great.”

You leaned your head back against the cushions, exhaling a soft sigh. “Clark, I’m fine,” you said, your voice still raspy but carrying enough exasperation to make your point. “I mean, yeah, I feel like I’ve been hit by a snowplow, but it’s not like I’m about to collapse.” Your lips quirked into a small, teasing smile as you tilted your head toward him.

“Besides, you’ve already gone above and beyond. The cookies, the mistletoe, the cozy speeches… you’re basically an elf on the shelf who magically transformed into the perfect boyfriend overnight.” You reached over, your other hand settling on Clark's broad shoulders as you gently rubbed them, a silent gesture of appreciation.

Clark chuckled at that, but the faint blush on his cheeks deepened. “Well, I don’t know about perfect…” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck in that adorably bashful way that made your chest tighten.

“Perfect,” you repeated, a little firmer this time, giving his hand a squeeze. “Even in that ridiculous apron.”

He let out a breathy laugh, and the sound sent a flutter through you. The way his smile lingered—soft and boyish, but edged with a quiet intensity—made your stomach flip. His thumb absentmindedly traced circles on the back of your hand, and though the gesture was small, it felt impossibly intimate.

“Clark,” you mumbled, leaning in slightly, the hoarseness of your voice making his name sound heavier, more charged. “Stop worrying so much.”

“I can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a low murmur. His eyes flicked to your lips before darting away, a faint flicker of hesitation passing over his features. “You’re sick. I don’t want to… you know… make it worse.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, though it quickly turned into a cough. Clark’s expression immediately shifted to concern, but you waved him off, catching your breath as you gave him a lopsided grin.

“Clark, I’m not made of glass. And for the record,” you added, your voice softening as you leaned in just a little closer with the support of your elbows, “I think kissing you would make me feel a whole lot better. Best medicine and all that.”

His ears turned an impressive shade of red, and he ducked his head slightly, his grin both shy and disbelieving. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of exasperation and fondness.

You shrugged, your grin turning sly. “And yet, you’re still here.”

“I’m still here,” he echoed softly, his voice carrying a weight of affection that made your heart ache in the best way. His gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the soft glow of the Christmas lights casting him in a golden halo.

Slowly, tentatively, Clark leaned in, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw. “If you wake up tomorrow feeling worse,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in the barest of touches, “I’m blaming you.”

“Noted,” you whispered back, your breath mingling with his as you tilted your head to close the distance between you.

Strange. You hadn’t noticed the scent of cinnamon when he first brought out the cookies, but now, with your lips inching closer to his—like two cookies spreading and melding into one—you could almost convince yourself you were cured. Almost, if not for the stubborn stuffiness in your nose.

The kiss was gentle at first, as if Clark was afraid you might shatter beneath him. But when you let out a soft, contented sigh and threaded your fingers through his hair, his restraint wavered.

He deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a warmth and intensity that made you forget all about the congestion and sore throat. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his other hand pressed lightly against your waist beneath the blanket.

You tugged him closer still, your lips parting to let him in as the heat between you began to build. Clark’s kisses were like him—steady, powerful, and infused with an overwhelming tenderness that made your head spin. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you were breathing harder, the warmth of the moment erasing the chill of the winter night.

“Feeling better yet?” he asked, his voice teasing, though the worry flickering in his eyes betrayed him. It wasn’t just concern over your condition—it was something deeper, a quiet struggle to hold himself back. Not when you looked so effortlessly beautiful, your disheveled state a product of his presence.

“Better,” your voice came out in a whisper, your hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm before traveling around his torso to untie his apron. “But I think I might need a few more rounds just to be sure.”

Clark let out a soft laugh as you tossed the fabric to the floor, his thumb grazing your cheek in a tender gesture. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, but this time the words were thick with affection. His teeth caught his lower lip as your hands lingered at the waistband of his pajama pants, your intentions unmistakable with the gentle tug at his drawstring.

“You sure?” he asked sincerely, large, calloused hands pressing all over your body, but mainly your bare stomach, where he began mapping out heat zones over the plane.You could feel the strength of his abdomen beneath the thickness of his sweater as your hand gently traced his body in admiration. Biting your lip, you reached up to remove his glasses and nodded.

"If you don’t mind taking care of me tonight.”

There was something about the way Clark watched you during moments like these. You couldn’t tell if it was the warmth of his touch or the intensity of his gaze that made you feel so small, so vulnerable. Either way, you savored it—the sensation of being his entire focus, the apple of his eye, and nothing else.

Your stomach sank when he slid his third finger inside of your tight hole, joining his twinned index and middle.

“I can never get tired of this…” you mumbled, unbuttoning the rest of your pajama top when the pressure below heightened your body temperature.

“I’ll say,” Clark hummed, a growing mass forming large in his pants as he was knelt on the bed, gently working you open. The sound of his lubed fingers twisting and curling deep inside of you made his cock jolt, your cheeks reddening as a result of his attraction.

Clark had always been patient, but when it came to having you submit under his touch, he seemed to relish every second. His hands moved slowly, pressing and kneading at just the right spots, his fingers curling deep and slow to the rhythm of your heart while his other hand rubbed small and smooth circles over your stomach.

It wasn’t just about easing your tension—it was about watching you. The way your breath hitched when he found a tender spot, the subtle flutter of your lashes, the way your lips parted with a moan when he spread his three digits—it all captivated him.

He couldn’t help but grin softly as his hands worked their magic, savoring the reactions that only he could coax from you. For Clark, the real reward wasn’t just in soothing your aches—it was in seeing your face completely melt under his touch, your body reacting wantonly because you craved for more.

And with that, Clark went on to give you more. Knowing how sensitive your body’s condition was in the moment, he carefully pushed your legs up, his large hands stabilizing you by the thighs, and replaced the fill of his fingers with his inquisitive tongue.

Like his fingers, he started out slow and deliberate, tracing the swollen ring of muscle to sample the fresh layer of artificially-flavored lube dripping out of your hole. He licked you with a casual ease, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

“Smells like coconut,” you sniffled softly as he lifted his head to press a few kisses to your inner thighs. The warmth of his breath lingered on your skin, but your attention caught on the sticky sheen smeared across his cheek, a glistening trace of slick that made your cock twitch.

“Close… coconut cream pie. More vanilla than I was expecting, if I had to be honest…”

A tender smile curved your lips as your fingers found their way into his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingertips. You began to pet his head gingerly, your touch slow and soothing, grounding both of you in the moment.

“Love you.”

Clark leaned into your hand instinctively, a low hum of contentment rumbling from his chest. His eyes fluttered shut briefly, the tension in his broad shoulders melting under your touch, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away entirely.

“I love you too, (M/N).”

His gaze flicked to yours, a sudden spark of mischief between the blinds of his eyelashes, before he paused for a moment, letting the anticipation build, and kept a watchful eye on you while he slowly pushed out his spit to drizzle it over your wet hole.

Then, with agonizing precision, he pushed the remainder of the saliva into the center of your opening, the wet, methodical slck of the motion sending a jolt of heat down your spine.

“Fuck…” Your fingers curled into his hair until they were grasping, pushing him and his tongue deeper into you while simultaneously rutting your hips against him.

Clark was a hungry man. He made sure to clean up any traces of his spit and lube with that thick tongue of his, slurping the remnants before adding onto it again with a generous amount of spit. Every time you thought the trail of saliva was dripping dangerously close to the bed sheets, Clark’s intuition was strong enough to blindly guide him to the leak, deftly licking it back up and kissing your flesh in passing.

He would never waste a single drop.

A quiet, satisfied moan escaped him, low and drawn out, as if savoring the sweetness of the lube and your flesh was a private indulgence. His eyes never left yours as his nose rubbed at your taint in midst of his devouring, The smile that curled at his lips—glazed and glistening—was a challenge, a silent dare that made the air between you feel heavy.

Heavier, when he found the right rhythm of flicking his tongue to make your body writhe under him.

“Clark, please…” you whined, one hand massaging your loose balls while the other toyed with your nipple, pleasuring yourself not only to the sight of Clark indulging in the warmth and taste of your flesh, but also his naked torso.

His chest rose and fell steadily, each inhale making his broad shoulders flex, the faint sheen of sweat catching the light. The planes of his abdomen looked carved, every ridge and dip inviting your eyes to linger, compelling your cock to leak out of sheer astonishment.

His arms were just as mesmerizing—thick and powerful, with veins running along his forearms that seemed to pulse with quiet authority, especially so when he’d alternative between working your hole open with his fingers and tongue again.

The strength they promised wasn’t just physical but protective. Those arms of his were built to shield and hold you.

When he finally pulled away, his gaze lingered, watching as you panted breathlessly, your chest rising and falling, desperate for him to finish what he had so teasingly begun. The tension hung there, thick and electric, like the moment itself had slowed just for the two of you.

He took off the remainder of his clothes before sprawling himself over you, his broad frame hovering just above yours while you seized the opportunity to thank him of his service. Between gentle kisses that Clark needed to get out of his system before he would lose himself in your body, you generously applied a glorious amount of lube on his large cock, though not letting Clark’s kisses answer to nobody.

His muscles pressed gently against you, the solid strength of his chest rising and falling with each breath when you took a couple of moments to thoroughly layer him in slick—to silently appreciate him for his efforts in lifting your spirits throughout the week with firm strokes.

The weight of his cock in your hands was satisfying, hefty enough to make you pause and marvel at the sheer size of it. You couldn’t get used to it, nor did you want to.

“You comfortable? Need more pillows? Tell me if your body starts hurting, okay?” Clark asked, suppressing his moans by showering your neck and face in small, lithe kisses.

His hands roamed your body at their own free-will before they began fixating on your arms, where your goosebumps were discernible. His brows furrowed in concern.

“Little cold…” One arm looped around to caress Clark by the nape, holding his forehead flushed to your own, while your other hand continued to stroke him between your collective hip grinds. You shivered again, despite being nestled so close to him, the draft still biting at your skin.

“Give me a moment,” he murmured softly, the heat of his breath brushing your ear.

You looked up at him, puzzled, but before you could ask what he meant, Clark pulled back just slightly, enough to give himself space to move. Without a word, he began to shift, his body warm and powerful as he adjusted his position. A flicker of surprise passed through you when you saw the subtle concentration on his face, but before you could ask again, you felt it when he pressed himself on top of you again, lowering his hips.

Clark’s body temperature seemed to rise—slowly, but steadily, until you could feel a gentle heat radiating off him. It was as if he was adjusting his own internal warmth, shifting it just for you. Your eyes widened in disbelief, but the shiver running through your body eased, the cold gradually melting away as his warmth enveloped you.

“You should be good now,” he said, his voice low and calm while he pulled you back into his arms, his skin now perfectly heated against yours.

You nestled against him again, finally able to relax as the cold left you entirely. “Not even going to ask,” you graced him with a kiss, reaching between your pelvis and his to adjust his cock against your hole and nodded. “I’m good to go.”

“Love you so much…” He took you by the jaw and slotted his lips into yours once more, grounding the wavering of your breath with his protection before he pushed his hips forth.

“It’s so… big, C-Clark—“ you groaned, clenching your eyes shut through the bittersweet tension of his large cock opening you up.

Clark whispered several I know’s over your lips, a strong effort in placating the pain surging beneath you, while taking a few pauses for you to catch your breath, for Clark to catch his because—you were so tight.

"You're so tight..." Clark seemed to have admitted in a whisper without realizing.

You felt yourself swell within seconds, the crown of your insides clenching him and pushing him out all at the same time, but Clark remained resilient, pushing, and pushing, allowing you to feel the slow, deliberate pressure inside of you, until he was finally deeply rooted inside of you to the hilt, earning himself a deep guttural groan from you as a reward.

“You feel so good, baby. So, so good. Taking me so well…” He peppered your whimpers with soft kisses, his words soothing you as his boyish smile remained, warm and comforting, easing you with each gentle touch and praise.

“You’re so warm too…” you muttered into the palm of his hand, kissing him at the calloused skin before you returned back to his plush lips.

Your breath caught in your throat as you shifted, the feeling of being filled growing deeper, fuller with every inch of Clark’s large cock moving inside of you. Clark’s large palm rested on your stomach, caressing over the bulge that seemed to move in conjunction with his slow, methodical thrusts.

He had never mentioned it, but you knew it was a sight that he secretly loved. Clark's eyes softened with admiration as he watched, his gaze lingering on the subtle curve of your stomach. It was unmistakable, the way it had begun to gently bulge with every rut of his hips, becoming more prominent depending on the strength, the fullness a natural sign of the way your body had been affected by what you’d taken.

And what you had taken was Clark’s love and devotion to you—his thick cock making you gape and swell from beneath.

It wasn’t easy, not by any means, but there was an undeniable pull in watching your stomach swell from his cock—an almost desperate craving for the mixture of pain and pleasure, for the way it made your body react even though your mind wavered between wanting to resist and wanting to surrender completely.

He couldn’t help but marvel at it, his fingertips lightly grazing the curve, tracing its outline with a reverent touch. The way your body had responded to him, the way it molded to the shape of the intimate moment, filled him with a quiet awe. He leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against your skin, his voice low and hushed. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, a hint of wonder in his tone, as if he couldn’t quite believe the sight before him.

Clark was never one to boast, but in this moment, the glint in his eyes spoke volumes. He’d never been so proud of having someone like you—someone so determined—take all of his girth with such unwavering focus despite the tears in your eyes. Happy tears, to which he’d only create more of, when he gently pressed on the bulge in your stomach and sandwiched his cock within your insides, plunging himself deep inside of you until the only sounds that came out of your throat were guttural.

“C-Clark—oh, god…” your cock was dripping in pre-cum, throbbing to the weight of his cock hollowing you out as he sped up his hips and pushed you deeper into the bed on instinct. You held onto his muscular shoulders as he clutched onto your waist and rocked you back and forth along to his deep thrusts.

“God, I’m so deep inside of you. Is this okay, baby? Is it okay that I’m making love to you like this? I’m being selfish, aren’t I?”

“No-please! I l-love it so much, Clark. Fuck. Keep fucking me like that… wouldn’t want anything more—”

“Like this? You like how I’m so deep inside of you to the point where your tummy’s swelling? So… good. You look so good for me…”

His forehead connected to yours again, panting over your mouth and taking a moment to marvel over how he had rendered you speechless before he could muster up the energy to kiss you again, to draw out another sound from you with his tongue.

The warmth of his mouth was almost feverish, his breath mingling with yours in a tangled, wet dance. Each movement was smooth and sensual, your tongues exploring, tasting, tracing the contours of each other’s mouths with growing eagerness. The wetness of it—the gentle press of his lips, the slick glide of your tongues—made the kiss feel all the more intoxicating, as if every flick and sweep brought you deeper into him.

Clark’s body temperature only seemed to have gotten warmer, affecting you from the inside and out as his cock was synchronous.

You could feel Clark’s dick heat you up from the inside, seemingly softening your guts to make the ease of fully wrecking you all the more easier. With each kiss, praise, and thrust, your body melted further, feeling as soft and pliable as butter left out in the warmth. The tension in your muscles faded, replaced by a liquid sensation that spread through you, leaving you entirely at ease and whimpering in his hot embrace.

The faint sheen of sweat gave him an undeniable rawness, a physicality that made your heart race. You were mesmerized by the way it clung to him, the way the droplets caught the light before sliding slowly down his torso.

Each movement he made only seemed to draw you in more, the heat radiating from his body intensifying the pull you felt. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, infatuated not just by his strength, but by the way he looked so alive, so real—like the sweat was proof of his effort, his focus, and the raw intensity of how he was making love to you and that tantalizing hole of yours.

“You’re fucking me so good, Clark. I could come like this, baby—just like this…”

“And when you make a mess—not if, but when—I’ll treat you like the prince you are. I’ll clean you up with my mouth, let you watch me lick every drop away with my tongue, and then I’ll kiss you, giving you a taste of your love for me.”

His skin, damp with the effort of his keen need to wreck you, left a trail of warmth and moisture as he pounded you, a strong, animalistic friction that made every touch feel more intimate and passionate, that made the current position of him mounting you and bending your knees till they touched your chest despite your condition well worthwhile and all the more rewarding.

It was a sound that matched the intensity of the connection between you both—no words needed, just the symphony of his sweaty skin meeting yours, and his cock hollowing you out until you two had made a permanent imprint on the mattress.

Clark’s breath hitched as he watched you, his eyes soft and filled with admiration contrasting with his hardened thrusts. “You look so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “Just… so perfect.”

His hand moved to your stomach again, evidently in love with the way you swelled from his cock, the weight of the moment sinking in with the aid of the bed creaking, and Clark’s sweaty skin slapping against you.

Every word he spoke, every gentle press of his lips, seemed to soften you, coaxing out of the cold that had been restricting you. It was as though you were being molded by his touch, the heat of his affection spreading through your veins, leaving you pliant, relaxed, and willing to give yourself entirely to him.

All sensation coursing through you was a tangled mess of pleasure and overwhelming intensity. Your body was on the verge of unraveling with every deep thrust of Clark’s. You could feel him swell, veins throbbing inside of you, his balls twitching as he was nearing his high just as you were.

Your eyes fluttered closed, the edges of your vision blurring the harder he pounded into you like an animal, like he was beating away at your cold, and you could feel yourself slipping into a blissful madness.

It was almost too much, yet it felt like the most real thing you’d ever known. Your body trembled from the weight of his body on you, from the girth that Clark was destroying you open with. Every muscle was tight with anticipation, yet you managed to hold onto a smile, the corners of your lips twitching despite the storm raging inside you, your cock throbbing and leaking in overdrive in warning.

“C-Clark..!“

Your hands instinctively found their way around Clark's neck, pulling him closer as if to anchor yourself in the moment. The kiss you pressed against his lips was desperate, full of need and grounding, a silent plea for him to steady you in the chaos as your balls tightened up into your core.

With each breathless press of your mouth to his, you found a sliver of control, a tether to the reality of his presence, even as the pleasure threatened to send you into pure blissful madness.

“I know—me too—“

Your smile lingered, your mind teetered on the edge, savoring every second, every touch, every thrust, and every heartbeat that connected you both, until the very moment where Clark’s name slipped from your lips in a breathless gasp.

“Clark—“

The tension had reached its peak, and when it finally broke, it was like a wave crashing over you, overwhelming and all-consuming. You came in a shared, fervent release. All muscles in your body was taut with desire, the culmination of your love for him unraveling in the form of thick white ropes shooting out of your cock, decorating your bulging stomach with layers upon layers, some splattering onto Clark’s body from the sheer amount of power and arousal.

Clark’s grip on you tightened, his body shuddering against yours as he gave into the same release, his breath ragged in the wake of it. His name left your lips in a soft, trembling sigh as he spilled his warm, thick seed deep inside of your raw hole. He left you breathless, thick, and steady, flooding you in ropes that seemed to never end. It was a powerful, consuming feeling, filling you completely, each pulse of his cock deep and unwavering, decorating your insides with a thickness that left you in awe of how much he had to give, like his body had held nothing back.

Your bodies moved together in those final moments, each thrust and touch sending shock waves through your system as Clark rode out his orgasm. You could feel every inch of him, raw and exposed. The warmth spread through you with each movement, the thick fluid of his cum filling you to the brim, a steady stream that didn’t seem to have an end leaking out of you that would surely have your flesh glued together with his.

Nothing else listed but the two of you—completely undone, unraveling together and leaving behind nothing but the sweet, tender echo of your love for each other.

The room was still, save for your breathing, as Clark’s forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath, tangled together in the beautiful, but sweaty aftermath.

“Are you… feeling better?”

His fingers traced along your skin, over the mess that you made of your stomach to let the sticky substance seep into his own palm, while he caught the remainder of his breath in the crook of your neck, fully collapsing on top of you.

“I…” You groaned, the lingering sensation of pleasure making it hard to find words. But despite the exhaustion, a sly smile tugged at your lips.

You rubbed his broad back in soothing circles, whispering in his ear, “I think I might need another prescription, Doctor.” Your voice was breathless, a mischievous glint in your eyes as the desire still simmered beneath the surface.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[dollfacefantasy]

clark kent x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, car sex, mating press a/n: ummm yeah i need him so bad it makes me ill <3

for as long as you'd known clark, you'd never known him to lose his temper. he was forever-patient, your boyfriend. understanding to almost a frustrating degree. especially with you, his little love.

he was already pretty easy to get along with, but on the rare occasion you did have issues, clark seemed to have a natural instinct for deescalating you. he never raised his voice, never spoke an unkind word about you, never gave you a look harsher than what could be described as stern.

all it took to calm you down was a glimpse of his natural puppy-dog eyes and pretty plush lips. his thick arms would circle around you and hold you to his chest. he'd sway back and forth with you a little, a small smile on his face as you melted into the embrace. whatever semblance of tension or irritation that had been bubbling up easily dissolved into a puddle between the two of your bodies.

so, all that to say, you didn't really believe clark possessed any kind of rough edge or combative instinct. despite his large stature, you couldn't really picture him ever being rough.

that was until tonight.

you and clark had planned to drop by some event at the talon, but your sweet boyfriend had warned you earlier that he found out there'd probably be some trouble there later. some potentially dangerous situation that he wanted you avoiding at all costs. it was for your safety. he just wanted you to stay home where he wouldn't be worried while him and chloe investigated.

but did you listen to him? of course not. you went anyways, not in the mood to listen to his vague explanations as to how he even discovered this information in the first place. you put on a cute little dress with some new shoes you bought specifically for the night and took off.

unfortunately for you, clark had turned out to be right. not even thirty minutes after you arrived, chaos broke out. people flew through walls and glass shattered everywhere, all because of some guy who looked like his body could stretch and bend like a rubberband. it totally sucked. but none of that was even the worst part. you survived the craziness of whatever that person's problem was. the real danger came when the dust settled and you saw clark across the room staring at you.

he looked pissed.

he was at your side in an instant, but closing the distance didn't soften him any. it kind of did the opposite since up close he could see a bloody scrape stretching across your cheekbone.

you could see he was worried first and foremost, but behind that concerned top coat a fire burned. as soon as your small wound had been tended to, his long fingers clasped around your bicep. he pulled you to your feet and all but dragged you out of the coffee shop.

"clark i-" you started in an attempt to explain yourself.

"save it," he said, voice as cold as you'd ever heard it, "i asked you for one thing. that's it. stay home for your own good. don't come out here and pointlessly risk your life."

"it wasn't that bad," you defend weakly.

"but why even take the chance?" he asked with true exasperation, "i shouldn't need to convince you that your safety is more important than whatever they had going on tonight."

he didn't continue the lecture beyond that. just walked with a clenched jaw and motivated stare in the direction of his truck. like always, he opened the door for you when you got there. though this time, he practically scooped you up and dumped you into the car.

he was silent as he drove, fingers tight around the steering wheel. you could practically feel the frustration rolling off of him. the urge to lash out for once was near spilling over. he pulled the car over, and you figured you were really in for it. in a way you were right, just not how you thought.

clark didn't bother yelling, didn't try to start a fight. he glared at you for a few silent seconds before leaning across the seats and crashing his lips against yours. he kissed you like he wanted to steal the breath from your lungs.

after a blur of clothing being shifted around and positioning body parts awkwardly in the confined space, you found yourself in the meanest mating press of your life.

you were folded in half beneath all of clark's weight. the points of your new heels scraped up the truck's ceiling while your knees squished against your chest. little squeaks and whines slipped their way out of you as his tip battered against your cervix. he was so deep you swore you could feel your insides rearranging to make room for him.

"clarkkkk," you mewled before biting your lip, desperately searching for some way to ground yourself. one set of your fingers gripped strands of his dark hair while the other held a fist of his flannel.

"what, baby?" he panted. for once, clark wasn't fawning over you between thrusts. he wasn't cooing or praising you for taking him so well. instead, he had his face against your neck and his hands wrapped around your waist, bucking into your dripping heat with enough force to rock the car.

you tried to force out words to convey what you were thinking. too big. too much. so deep. harder. faster. none of those made it though. only choked moans and then a sharp squeal when he rolled his hips and struck that extra-sensitive sweet spot inside you.

"someone's gonna see if they drive by," you whimpered, squirming underneath him.

"maybe you should hold still then and let me finish, huh?" he grunted, "no one's gonna see. everyone's in town dealing with the mess from tonight. the one i told you was gonna happen."

"i didn't think-"

"i know you didn't," he interrupted, "didn't use that pretty little head at all, did you?"

words of defense eluded you right now, his nonstop thrusts keeping your mind cloudy. instead you chose to whine, your lip quivering he rolled his hips deeper yet again.

"oh yeah?" he asked, as if you'd said something coherent.

you opened your mouth again to speak, to really argue back this time, but you were cut off by your own desperate cry when his hands tugged you closer and speared you even further on his cock. you could feel him grinning against your neck at the noise.

"i know, baby. i know you're sorry. you don't have to explain. thinking's too hard for you right now, yeah?" he cooed, his tone bordering on mocking.

your pout got more severe but so did the needy sounds escaping your mouth. you felt those long fangs of his scrape against your throat. his tongue then glided across the area, making you shudder.

"clark-" you tried to say something else, but he cut you off. he raised his head up and kissed you deep again, swallowing the words right from your mouth. when he pulled back for air, he rested his sweaty forehead against yours.

"you can be such a brat," he breathed, "so much whining even though i know you love this."

the truck creaked as his movements continued to jostle it. you felt his breath fanning across your face and watched as his eyes fluttered shut. you knew he was getting close, but so were you. your cunt squeezed around him rhythmically, coaxing him too the edge along with you.

"you gonna cum, baby?" he finally muttered against your lips.

you nodded eagerly, more than ready to release. it only took a few more hard thrusts to get you there, and clark followed along no problem. in the afterglow, he laid on top of you for a minute or so, trapping you in a cage of searing body heat.

when he finally did sit up, the two of you fixed your clothes and stretched your limbs. he looked over at you with more tenderness. your boyfriend's gentle temperament had seemingly returned with the relief his peak brought.

he cupped your jaw with his fingers, looking over that cut on your face. leaning in, he gave it a small kiss before starting up the car again.

"i'm just trying to look out for you, you know? just... please listen next time. i don't know what i'd do if you got hurt. you had me worried sick."

"i will. i'm sorry i scared you," you replied softly. your eyes studied the loving look in his eyes and the way his features seemed so at peace now that all his adrenaline was out of his system.

you grabbed his hand across the seats and traced little patterns on his knuckles for the drive home. he let you play with his fingers but shot you a glance.

"i'm serious. next time you get involved with something like that i won't let you off so easy," he teased.

you smiled and nodded, wanting to put his mind at ease. though in the back of your mind, a small part of you considered trying again some time, just to see what "not so easy" looked like to him.

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you’re not sure if it’s normal for a ‘relationship’ like you and gojo’s to be so constant.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! situationship!gojo, although it seems to be a little more than that, fluff! he’s a clingy baby ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i literally had to pull over at the side of this road to write this in my notes <3 childe is coming tomoz guys i swear !

“satoru, i have to leave eventually, i can’t stay here forever.” you sigh from where you’re wrapped in gojo’s, your… friend’s bed, his sheets, his shirt. you’re not sure how long you’ve been here, three? four days maybe, it’s like both of you are just ignoring that maybe this is a little more than what you’re trying to say it is.

“you leavin’ me cold? where’s your heart.” hes teasing you as he whines playfully, pouting from where he’s standing at the foot of his bed. he’s still shirtless from his shower— his snowy hair is wet, framing his features and you think it’s annoyingly unfair how low on his hips his sweatpants are resting. “bring back my sweet girl.”

he’s not sure how to tell you that he doesn’t remember the last time he had a full nights sleep before you’d started staying over.

“none of my stuff is here.” you try to reason but gojo’s so fast to send you a handsome sort of grin before he’s turning away from you momentarily. you watch him hum as he picks his slacks up from the floor, reaching into the side pocket to pull out his wallet before reaching so quickly for the sleek black card inside with a shrug.

“i’ll get you new stuff. see,” he tilts his head towards the card and you know he’s serious despite his smooth tone, the ridiculously luxury apartment you’re in right now and his usual expensive clothes was enough proof that he could, but that’s not what you meant.

“no, satoru, i’m serious. i need my clothes.” you sigh as you lean yourself back into the plush pillows beneath you, youre grumbling like you’re being held here against your will but you’ve still made no real effort to move from your place.

you feel the mattress at your feet dip as gojo pushes himself back onto the bed, his fingertips reaching to wrap gently around your calf as he crawls his way towards you. it’s incredibly intimate the way he looks up at you through his lashes, lifting your leg slightly until you feel his lips trace along the inside of ankle, leaving short—soft pecks in their wake.

his gaze remains on yours as he trails kisses up your skin, continuing until he’s high enough to let his chin rest on your stomach, long arms wrapping underneath your waist as he shoots you another smile. “oh? but you look so good already, sweet thing.”

you groan at that, “satoru! omg, i need an outfit. i cant just live in your stuff.” — as comfortable as it is.

“yeah yeah, i hear you. i can take you there, wait f’ you and bring you back.” gojo grumbles from where he’s hugging himself into you, bringing up one of his hands like he’s talking you through a plan as you watch his fingers wave around in the air with his words.

you sigh again, for what feels like the millionth time today, but you still let your fingers push their way through the damp roots of the man over you’s hair— a motion that earns you a quick kiss pressed through your shirt before he lets the silence linger comfortably.

you think this was probably a lot more than what you’re both trying to say it is.

“hm, so you wanna go on a date, ‘s that it?” gojo grumbles a few moments later, goading as he shoots you one of his cheekier smirks before he’s pushing himself up high enough to curl over you. but the playful jokes makes you feel suddenly warm as you look up at him— trying so hard to retain the frown on your features despite the way his crystalline gaze makes you want to melt into a puddle.

“you’re so annoying.” you try to push him away but he doesn’t budge as he chuckles, leaning down to press his face ticklishly into the crook of your neck as he pokes playfully at the sides of your waist— just enough to kick start a laughing fit. “‘toru! i swear—“

“oh? i see how it is. why’re you mad?” you can barely breathe as gojo presses you into the mattress beneath you— twitching and wriggling underneath his huge body as he continues to press into your ticklish spots.

“s-stop it! i’m not mad.”

“oh yeah? well i haven’t done anything afterall! you said you wanted an outfit, don’t go all shy on me now~” he’s deliberately accompanying each touch with an onslaught of kisses along the crook of your neck that make you shudder.

“satoru! oh my god, i’m gonna kill you.” you gasp as you kick your legs, giggling uncontrollably until you feel him cease suddenly and drop himself back on top of you with a huff.

“oh, scary! you said it, sweet girl. you fallin’ for me? i knew it! it can’t be helped, i’ll be happy to take you out if you ask nicely.”

gojo’s lips rest against your jawline as he speaks this time; smooth as honey while his hands push their way underneath the hem of your—his shirt. his fingers rest gently at your waist before he begins tracing something messily, probably something similar to a heart if you were to focus on it a little more.

you don’t answer him this time, like you’ve admitted defeat as your arms wrap around him— letting him melt into you a little longer before he’s pushing himself up to press a kiss against your cheek, then your lips when you turn around to face him.

“hm, that’s too bad. i kinda wanted to keep you locked away in here for a little while longer. oh well.” gojo smirks as he tries to feign disappointed, pinching between his brows before he’s shooting you a wink and leaning in for another kiss. his lips linger a little longer this time, tongue coming out to tease along your lower lip before he pulls away suddenly a few moments later— leaving you pouty and all of a sudden kiss starved.

you watch him fumble around for a little bit, sorting through the clothes that you both had peeled off in such a rush the night before. you give him a confused look when he bends over; rising back up as he shakes his car keys at you with another one of his signature grins.

“aw, don’t look at me like that. come on, we got somewhere to be, right? wear somethin’ nice f’ me.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen get cuteness aggression for their s/o

requested by many people! counterpart to this hc <3

masterlist

seungcheol, woozi

has probably actually gotten mad at how cute you are at some point. like genuinely, looking over at you and then just freezing, before loudly complaining and making a whole fuss over how you can't keep looking at him like that because he will!!! he Will need to punch something bc of just!!! how!!! cute!!! you are. nonono, he's not punching you, he's gonna punch like. a wall or something. just to vent over how someone as adorable as you actually exists. and then he'll give you kisses all over until you're laughing because you are ridiculously cute and he needs to shower you with affection so you realise how enamoured he is.

jeonghan, joshua, minghao

only he could make cuteness aggression sound like the softest thing ever. he'll be aggressively squishing your cheeks so hard that your eyes are all squinty and everything you say is basically indecipherable, whilst he continues sighing and looking at you with all the fondness in the world and lamenting over how goddamn adorable you are and honestly, what is he going to do with you? the stark contrast between his soft, enamoured voice and the way he's ruffling your hair and kissing your face everywhere like you're going to disappear any moment makes you laugh, weirdly endeared by his behaviour. you're going to get him back for it, though. and ruffle his hair until he can't see a single thing.

junhui, hoshi, mingyu, chan

probably cries. he looks at you sitting there all pretty, completely minding your own business, and the feelings just bubble up inside him so aggressively because WHO is allowed to be that adorable whilst doing absolutely nothing? it's not fair. what starts out as a rant over your cuteness ends up with him a bit teary-eyed and sniffly bc you're just so pretty and he doesn't know what to do. you have to pat him on the head and wipe away his tears as he clings to you and continues to tearily confess that you're the sweetest and loveliest person he's ever seen. his episodes of cuteness of aggression always end with you getting cuteness aggression too bc of how adorable he is everytime he does this

wonwoo, vernon

he's not very showy about his cuteness aggression, at all, but that doesn't mean it's not obvious. he'll stare at you for hours with literal hearts in his eyes, fondness written all over his face, and anyone who looks at him will just know how cute he finds you, even though he hasn't said a word. acts like you're the most precious being in the entire world, and is basically dissolving into a puddle of adoration right then and there. god, he's so lucky to even be in your presence and be able to love you, bc you're just so pretty and so cute. “why are you staring at me so much?” / “you're just so cute, i don't know what to do with you.”

dokyeom, seungkwan

he is very, very noisy about how cute he finds you. i mean like genuinely screeching and being all loud as he complains that you are far too adorable and what about his heart?? have you thought about his heart? bc it's currently melting onto the floor and it's all your fault!!!! the loud screeching is Also accompanied by very clingy hands, so expect the sudden shout to then be followed up with him basically hanging off your shoulders and holding your face in his hands as he cries over how adorable and lovely you are. everyone within a fifty metre radius will know that he finds you cute, by the way. be prepared.

request guidelines

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[peachsukii]

— emergency contact

it’s been two years since you’ve seen your ex-boyfriend, and didn’t plan on changing that anytime soon. a nasty villain fight lands you in the hospital during an overnight patrol and leaves you unable to tell the doctors who to call in your dazed state.

✮ content. late 20s. ex-boyfriend bakugo, hospitalization, sappy confessions & second chances. distance makes the heart grow fonder kind of deal.

『 #reis softie sundays 』

Sharp, shooting pain down your back and a desperate cry from your partner ⎯ that was the only thing you remember from the last…four hours? Time is becoming illusive at this point, blending together with how fast everything unraveled around you.

Were you injured on patrol? Did that villain slip through your fingers and escape? Where was your partner in all this chaos?

“Doctor, she’s waking up,” you hear in the distance, muffled but clear enough to understand. A nurse walks into your blurred vision, a soft smile on her lips. “Hi hon, you’re in the hospital. We’re taking you to your room now, hang tight.”

All you can manage to do is nod in acknowledgement, the world spinning on its axis and making you extremely dizzy. Your eyes fall closed, a hazy sleep welcoming you in seconds.

When you wake next, you're not quite sure how much time has passed. The room sits in darkness, the only sources of light coming from the moon outside the window and the various machines chirping around you. There's a static in your head, as if you're stuck on a radio frequency that hasn't been adjusted to the correct channel. Even with all the noise in your head, a familiar voice can be heard outside in the hallway, one you'd never mistake for anyone else.

"It's late," a nurse says, presumably trying to convince him to go home. "Are you sure you want to stay? We can try her other contacts again in a few hours."

"M'sure. Do I need'ta sign in or whatever?"

"No, that's alright. I'll notate it on her chart and let the front desk know. I'll be back in a bit and we can talk more about treatment."

The door slides open to prove you're not imagining things ⎯ your ex isn't a manifestation of your delirious state. Bakugo's standing in the dim light of the hallway, tip toeing inside and shutting the door as quietly as possible. When his eyes fall upon your hospital bed, he notices that you're awake and sighs. "Been awhile."

You don't have the energy to do this dance with him, to go back and forth with lightheartedness like old times. "Why are you here?"

His lips press into a straight line, jaw clenched tight as he seems to silently ask himself the same question. He makes his way over to the bed, taking a seat at the edge by your feet. "I'm still one of your emergency contacts in your hero file."

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. There's no way you haven't updated your database profile in two years...right? Bakugo catches onto your confusion and explains before you have a chance to press him further on the matter. "M'the only one who answered."

What time was it, anyways? Your eyes bounce around the room swiftly to find a wall clock. You squint a bit to read it, finally making out the numbers. 4:30...am?

"What did they call you for?" you yawn, rubbing the exhaustion out of your eyes. "I don't even know what happened."

He takes a deep breath as a large hand finds your thigh, resting atop the thin blanket. His touch makes you want to melt into a puddle, memories of your past relationship coming back in waves.

"They didn't tell me much, only that it was life or death. Thankfully, your ass chose life." He shakes his head, a quiet huff escaping him. "Somethin' about a villain's poison quirk. Ya got hit in the spine and it paralyzed you temporarily, an' you fell from someplace high up. Your partner caught ya and the paramedics got to you just in time."

Oh. Well, that explains the pain from earlier.

"But why did you answer their call, Baku⎯" you cut yourself off to correct his name as it leaves your lips. "Katsuki?"

"I'm not heartless, just 'cause we haven't talked in ages doesn't mean I don't care about ya."

You shift in your bed a bit, eyes gravitating toward the window to avoid his gaze. Truth be told, you two ended on decent terms and not maliciously. Wrong place, wrong time...at least, that's what you two chalked it up to. You were both too busy with hero work, too absent from each other's lives to properly be a couple. After a year, you convinced yourself that you were satisfied watching him from afar, catching brief glimpses of his life through interviews and news reports. That was your excuse, a cowardly way to keep him out of reach and prevent you, and him, from getting distracted.

"Hey." Bakugo's fingers squeeze your thigh to recollect your attention, the blanket crumpling under his palm. You're terrified to look at him, knowing full well that in your battered state, you'll crumble like stone if he says anything remotely sweet. Those vermillion eyes of his always had a way of making you weak ⎯ soft. "I was thinkin' on my way over here that I should'a called ya, reached out to keep in touch. M'sorry for not doin' that."

"It's...fine," you stammer out, a shaky hand coming up to wave off his concern. "We don't have to talk about that now."

"I don't wanna only talk to you when you're hurt, or worse..." he trails off, screwing his eyes shut to avoid the dread lingering in his chest. "Look. What m'gettin' at is you scared the shit outta me, and it made me realize that I've got a lot to say after all these years."

Oh boy, you brace yourself for impact, expecting the explosive nature to come pouring out any second. But, it never comes.

Before you could stop him, Bakugo's on his feet and leaning over the bed, arms slung around your shoulders to pull you close. A strange but familiar veil of comfort drapes over you in the moment, pulling on your heartstrings. Your eyes begin to sting when the words he whispers finally reach your ears. "M'done usin' hero work as an excuse to avoid you. I wanna talk this shit out...when you're ready. I'd love to make ya dinner again."

You can't help but let out a breathless laugh, arms finally coming up to return his hug. "Only if you promise to make your special katsudon. I've been craving it for weeks."

He chuckles over your shoulder, squeezing you a bit tighter in response. "Deal."

Who knew that a villain was what you two needed to face your fears, to finally admit that the spark was never smothered into nothingness. And this time, something tells you that you'll both make damn sure it stays ablaze.

happy softie sunday!! I know it's been awhile since I've written one. hope you don't mind some baku-sap :)

✮ network. @pixelcafe-network

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@napbatata @Yoyolovesdaiki @kirishimaeijiromyman

@strwbrrykthv @awkwardchick87 @stunies @sakufilm

[thepromptswhisperer]

"I'm weak for you." Prompts

“I’d do anything for you.”

“Ha. Don’t think too highly of yourself. Just because I crave your company every now and then, doesn’t mean you’re my weakness. You’re not.”

“I can’t control myself around you. Don’t even want to.”

“Fiiiiine. I’ll do it. For you. Just for you.”

“Why do you have to make keeping a distance from you so damn difficult? I’m trying my hardest and you just…”

“That was but a moment of weakness. Think nothing of it.”

“Having a weak spot for someone doesn’t equate to wanting to be with them. Those are two completely different things.”

“Why can’t I say ‘no’ to you?”

“It scares me to see how far I’m willing to go for you.”

“No, wait. Stay- Stay back. I need to think rationally.” “...What’s that got to do with me?”

“You just can’t stay away from me for too long, huh?”

“My knees have gone a bit weak. Do you mind holding me?”

“It’s like… You have this power over me, and I- I guess I’m wary of where it might lead.”

“I don’t care about anything but you.”

“No other person makes me feel both weak and strong.”

“Stop it. Can’t you see that staying away from you is torture for me too?”

“I’m weak for you.” 

“You have me all wrapped around your finger.”

“I don’t want to scare you away with my… infatuation.”

“Right now I think you could probably talk me into anything.”

“You’ll be the death of me, [name].”

“You’re the only one I have opened up to like this.”

“Aren’t you at least a little ashamed of how blatantly you’re exploiting my feelings for you?”

“For you, I’ll take on any challenge.”

“(Fuck.) I need you to say that/make that sound again.”

“Just when I think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. Do you want me to collapse? Maybe melt into a puddle too while I’m at it?”

[obae-me]

How many kisses I think it would take before he turns to mush

My creativity has been stuck in essentially a rush hour traffic jam for like weeks, so let's write something silly for practice, shall we?

Lucifer

Definitely ten or more. He tries to keep his composure, to focus on the task at hand, scold you for coddling him and distracting him, but if you hold onto your stubbornness and see it through to the end, he will be putty in your hands soon after you reach double digits. He might even fall faster if you give him little bits of praise after every kiss.

Mammon

Three MAX. One to catch him off guard, one to make it really sink in, and then the third to land the final blow. No amount of tsundere will outlast the triple attack. He'll be following you around like a lost puppy for the rest of the day, almost demanding more. He's greed after all, three might've broken him, but he'll be damned if he doesn't get more.

Levi

I would be tempted to say just one is enough, but we want a soft boy, not a vibrating, anxious mess. He gets tense at first, and he needs some reassurance and some time to understand that he likes and is okay what is happening. So I'm going to say five or more kisses. The first few he's just stuttering and blushing, but soon after, he can put that aside and just allow himself to relax a bit.

Satan

He acts like it takes him just as long as Lucifer, reaching double digits, when in reality he gave in internally much much earlier than that. Four is when his heart is melting and his mind is screaming, but around eight is when his body starts to unwind, almost curling around you like a cat.

Asmo

Much higher than you would expect. One must bridge the initial flirting phase before he becomes a puddle. I'm going to say probably six kisses. The first three he'll be giddy, but if you get softer with each kiss, he'll slowly start to become speechless.

Beel

As long as there isn't food in the way, just one. One kiss is all it takes. This demon has just so much love in him, you hardly need to kiss him for him to be soft for you. He doesn't need to put up an act. Just give him a single smooch and he'll drop whatever he's doing to cuddle into you.

Belphie

So many kisses. Probably even more than Lucifer. He feels like he deserves your kisses anyway, so it's hard to get him flustered about it, especially when he's so spoiled. Besides, you have to hope your affection won't lull him to sleep. Over ten for sure. Just keep going. Eventually, he'll be overwhelmed and give up his sleepy smug nature and transform into fluff.

Diavolo

Look me in the eyes and tell me this touch starved man will not cave after like two or three. He's not used to kisses, so the first kiss has his brain lagging. Hit him with the double combo and he's gone. Wasted. Fatality. Although please just kiss him more than twice. He really likes it.

Barbatos

Too many to count, unfortunately. He likes it, don't get him wrong, he's just tough to break. But there must be a breaking point somewhere. Keep attacking him with kisses and surely he must give in eventually, although most likely by his own will, giving in just so you can catch a proper breath. A win is a win.

Simeon

Probably no more than four, although it seems like more than that because he'll often return to sender and kiss you back. Don't give in, you must stay strong before he makes you melt first. Hum as you kiss him and he'll fall faster, almost cooing.

Solomon

He's got a stronger will than most, almost as good as Barbatos, but he will melt in due time. He'll treat it like a game at first, which it almost is to you, but he doesn't have to know that. It takes a while, but when he melts, he melts fast. He'll be trying to chuckle and make light of it one moment, and then be a completely speechless mess the next.

[big-sis-milly]

Mom who grew up in the late 90s/early 2000s and still uses emoticons, ending her texts in O.o's and ಠ_ಠ's, showing you her sketchbooks filled with edgy pseudo-anime style doodles of angel girls and foxes and creepy teddy bears with too many stitches and sharp teeth with a fond, yet equally embarrassed smile on her face.

Mom who finds her old scene outfits while you're out and decides to try some on as a joke, she says they fit surprisingly well, if not a little more snug than she remembers. You come home to find your mom in torn black shorts, a faded Gir t-shirt, as well as fishnets on her arms and legs. Additionally, it's far tighter on her than she realizes herself.

You would never tell her, but your heart began beating like crazy when you saw her like that. She looked absolutely stunning, not to mention dreadfully— alarmingly sexy. In fact, you quickly found yourself very much in need of somewhere to sit down and hopefully hide the scandalous tent growing in your skirt. Still, she seems to have been drinking since before you got home so she's not very attentive anyhow.

Wow, she's hammered tonight. Must be some midlife crisis thing you don't get, not that you're complaining. You should be complaining, but you aren't. There are multiple moments you find yourself ogling your mom, staring at her ass when she bends over or being nearly hypnotized by her tits when she tries to do the caramelldansen. You think you're in for a long night.

After a while she settles down next to you on the couch, watching the show you put on with a loopy half-grin stuck on her face. You forgot how snuggly she gets when she's drunk, but as long as you have your blanket everything should be all right.

Of course, things started to get a lot more stressful when she suddenly placed her head on your lap, nearly pressing her nose right against your girlcock. Uh, did she pass out? That would be the best case scenario, but you can't really be sure from this angle. Plus there's no way you're moving, that could risk unwanted contact with your crotch. But, the thought of your girlcock rubbing up against your mother's face... no, no! You're trying to get out of your head until you hear a long, quiet inhale from your mom. Your heart felt like it stopped when an equally long but much louder moan escaped her lips on the exhale.

You've never heard her make that noise before. You could feel your heart melting into a puddle between your thighs from the sheer sudden eroticism on display, finding yourself less and less concerned about the consequences when her huffing turns into nuzzling. Jesus christ she's literally nuzzling your bulge. She can't still be asleep right?? Is she testing you? Teasing you? Your entire body feels electric, you know you can't stay still forever, especially if she keeps this up. You adjust to try and make yourself at least a little more comfortable, but hear your mom stir awake. Holy shit, was she actually sleeping?!

"Mmmgh, ah, sorry honey, I guess I-" She trails off, seeing how hard you are up close. "Oh."

You try to squirm away while apologizing profusely. How could you let her see that? You're an awful daughter, a perverted loser who can't even-

"No, no no, it's okay! It's okay, you're fine, j-just breathe, okay? Can you do that for me baby?" Your Mom says, desperate and drunk, holding your arms lightly. Her directions to calm you down actually help somewhat, and she lets you scoot away into the corner of the couch so you can cover yourself again.

You and your mom sit there for a while, neither of you sure what to say. Mom eventually clears her throat, looking everywhere but you.

"I think I need to confess a few things, haha." She chuckles jadedly, looking disheveled and red in the face as she reached out to put a hand on your thigh. It makes you jump a little, but the warmth is so comforting, it almost feels right that your mother's touching you this way. But that can't be possible, this has to be wrong, if not... then you could've been doing this for years now. Uh– what? N-no, that's not right...

"Ever since you started hrt, I could tell from your laundry that you began to smell different as a girl. I know I'm an awful mother, but your scent drives me up the fucking wall kiddo. I've tried... I masturbated to your bra a week ago, just to see if it would pass. It only made things worse, so- nggh, fuck, why did you turn out so good~ It's not fair that you're my daughter~"

This is a lot of information she's just dropping on you, the only thing you can do is stare wide eyed behind your pillow. Wait, uh, what does she mean by that last part?

"Ughh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be saying this, but... you're kinda my type. I've seen the changes during your transition happening day by day and I could tell, even early on, that you'd be absolutely irresistible to any lucky kid who wanted you. It made me jealous. Things would be so much easier if you weren't my daughter." You could see the conflicted look on her face when she said that. You don't know why, but you think you share the exact same feelings. And so you ask:

What if we pretended?

Your mom looks surprised, like she wasn't expecting you to suggest something like that, it's obvious she was a moment away from saying the exact same thing. She scans your expression, the nervous, blushing, beautiful little girl in front of her, just to make sure this is something you want to do in the first place. She can sense the quiet, excited anticipation in your eyes. God, what did she do to have such a wonderful daught- ah, s-stranger! With no relation to her! Yup yup, totally fine, just two non-familial people... Hm...

"If you're okay with that, sure. This'll just be a one time thing, I promise." She says reassuringly. "Just lay back and let mo- let me take care of you. Um, may I?"

You nod, nestling back into the couch a little. Your mother— or, uh, this very nice woman— carefully removes your skirt, letting your gock spring from your panties. She tries not to swoon, but you can see her half-lidded eyes already memorizing every tiny detail.

"Absolutely beautiful." You hear her mutter, her lips just barely brushing against you, breath warm and agonizing until she wraps her mouth around the tip of your girlcock. The way she swirls and flicks her tongue across your glans makes you shudder, the yelp that escaped your throat is cut short by your hand clamping over your mouth.

It feels exquisite, the semi-fancy term fitting due to the obvious experience this woman has performing oral. You don't think you've reached this pitch of moan ever, with anybody. Best not to think about it!

Every noise you make only seems to entice her more, shoving you deeper down her throat with every bob of her head until her nose is touching your tummy, the only thing you're able to do is writhe in place and try not to pull her hair too hard. Doesn't seem like she minds all that much though <3

You let her know through quivering lips that you're about to cum and she relents, albeit begrudgingly. She can't help but smother your gock in sloppy kisses right after, the sensation keeping you frustratingly close to the edge. After a beat she stops suddenly, backing off a little and brushing a few strands of hair over her ear.

"Gosh, I uh, maybe got a little carried away at the end, haha! Sorry sweetpea, my little girl's just too delicious~"

Your face turns even redder, she hasn't used that nickname for years now, she probably thought you grew it of it. You instinctively push your thighs together, whining as you decide whether or not to tell her. Did she even notice she said it in the first place? Maybe you could excuse it if it was an honest mistake? She probably knows what she did anyways, no need to rub it in. It's fine. It's fine! Oh, is she saying something?

"Honey, can I get on top of you?" The woman said, panting and making an expression just short of puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry. I need more. Just a little more, please?"

You barely have time to process what she just said before she's straddling your lap, only her rolled-up shirt and her fishnets remain on her body. Her boobs squish against yours, though she's a lot more developed than you are. The mere touch of her cunt to your gock makes you both jump, but she's not putting it in. She's waiting for you with that same look on her face.

You've found yourself going very far into a decision that could have dire consequences. Despite this, you can't help but lose yourself in her eyes, impatient and pleading, but forcing herself to stay still out of pure love for you. She must really want you, huh? No, she's probably just imagining someone else, it's just your scent she's attracted to right? Yeah, that's all this is. Nothing more. After this one hiccup, everything should go back to normal!

"Baby? Sweetie, a-are you okay?" Your mother's worried voice snaps you out of whatever thoughts you were having, and only then felt your own tears on your face. Why are you crying again? So stupid. You try to convey your thoughts to her, but you not knowing why this is happening yourself isn't helping, not to mention breaking down even further from the overwhelming amount of thoughts swirling about your head.

"God, I knew this was a bad idea," she mutters before returning her attention to you, "I'm sorry babygirl, we can stop, I shouldn't have-"

No, no no no. Finding the courage, you reach out and place a hand on your mother's waist, making her gasp as you lift your hips to meet hers and fully insert yourself into her completely soaked pussy. She latches onto you in surprise, wrapping her arms fully around your head as she pulls you close and practically howls with pleasure, her gorgeous tits smushing against your face. You've never heard your mom moan like that before. Or, no, your- ohh fuck your mom's cunt feels so good~ fuck it, it doesn't matter, you can't hold it back anymore. With your hands roaming every inch of her body, you unbury yourself from her tits and cry into her ear, "Mommyyyy~"

There is an immediate noticeable effect on your mom from the utterance of that word. You feel her tighten up hard, her cute little noises oozing with guilt. "Aah~! N-no sweetpea, we- ghh, have to pretend or, or- ngohh god." She almost sounds frustrated at how flustered it made her, losing her ability to think as you start moving inside her, like her brain cells are being killed with each thrust <3

As you start getting closer and thrusting harder into her, less and less words are spoken, gradually replaced with purely animalistic grunts and moans as you two feverishly rut each other. Of course, aside from the occasional groan of the other's name. Neither of you care about the bullshit façades you desperately tried to put up anymore, you need your mommy and she needs her daughter, more than anything in the entire universe.

Your orgasm quickly sneaks up on you, and it seems like hers is too. As you and your mom start arrhythmicly fucking each other to climax, she meets your gaze, mouth agape and eyes hungry. She kisses you, and you gladly returned the favor. You and your mother plead and whine into each other as you both cum, hard. You're pretty sure you blacked out for a second. It was everything you secretly dreamed of. Neither of you want to leave, so you stay inside her as you and your mom lazily make out on the couch for a while, cum slowly leaking onto your lap.

As you both break the kiss, she nestles into your shoulder, whispering "Thank you, thank you, thank you," over and over again. You can't help but say it back. So many aspects of her remind you of the nervous cringy teen she used to be, but you prefer her like this. Perfect, in every way.

[hellobykittys]

sooo i have a idea if you want obvi, i think about Lando's girlfriend who is best friend with the 2 Lilys and not with Alexandra or Francisca and Rebecca? I think these last 3 are like idk antipatic but not antipatic...(Not hate for they, its my personally opinion)

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 ✦ 𝐋𝐍⁴

SUMMARY: You're going to accompany your boyfriend on a racing weekend and you're taking the opportunity to spend time with your friends. NOTES: English is not my first language! I hope I understood this request correctly. PAIRING: Lando Norris x Reader! Girlfriend. WARNING: girls meet and some fluff. WC: 1.6k

MASTERLIST

Y/N wasn’t a constant presence during race weekends. Balancing the demands of college with the travel needed to accompany her boyfriend was a challenge, but she made it a point to be there whenever she could. The Singapore GP was one of those rare occasions where she managed to escape to the paddock and cheer for Lando.

Y/N had been at the McLaren hospitality suite for a few minutes. Lando had to leave her alone to handle some team-related matters, so she settled at a table, trying to pass the time while waiting for him.

“Y/N?” A sweet voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here already?”

She turned around to see Lily Zneimer, Oscar Piastri’s girlfriend and one of her closest friends. Ever since they met—thanks to their boyfriends’ insistence—their friendship had quickly blossomed. At first, both were too shy to make conversation, but with a little nudge from Lando and Oscar, they discovered just how much they had in common. Since then, their bond had flourished, and they stayed in touch even outside of race weekends, constantly texting and planning meet-ups.

Lily flashed a radiant smile as she walked toward the table where Y/N was sitting.

“Oh, I just got here,” Y/N replied, smiling as she stood up to greet her friend. “I sat down to wait for you and got a little distracted.”

“Should we go find Lils?”

“Lils” was the nickname they gave Lily MuniHe to avoid confusion since the two girls shared the same name.

“Let me just ask where she is,” Y/N said, quickly pulling her phone out of her bag to text Lily MuniHe, while Lily Zneimer chatted enthusiastically.

“Are you feeling good about this weekend?” Lily asked with a hopeful smile.

“Absolutely! I’d love to see a double podium for our boys,” Y/N replied, tucking her phone away after sending the message. “Imagine if one of them wins? It’d be perfect!”

“I think we’ve got a good chance,” Lily said optimistically. “The track suits them, and it’s all going to come down to today’s qualifying.”

“Ah, Lils just replied!” Y/N announced, glancing back at her phone. “She said she’s at the Williams hospitality.”

“Then let’s go find her,” Lily suggested, already grabbing Y/N by the arm. “And after that… we should grab some food. I’m starving!”

The two started walking through the paddock, exchanging laughs and comments about the drivers and the bustling atmosphere around them. Singapore’s heat was relentless, and Y/N was already regretting her choice of a long-sleeved top, even though her outfit looked amazing.

“Fingers crossed the Williams hospitality has strong air conditioning,” Lily remarked, fanning her face with her hand. “If not, I might pass out before we even get to the food stand.”

“Not if Lils convinces us to stay and gossip,” Y/N joked, laughing.

When they arrived at the Williams hospitality, they found Lily MuniHe waiting outside, looking like she was melting in the heat.

“Took you long enough!” Lils exclaimed, pointing dramatically at the sky. “I almost turned into a puddle of sweat out here!”

“That’s because you can’t stay in one place,” Lily Zneimer teased with a playful grin. “You could’ve waited for us inside.”

“Well, now that we’re here, let’s get something to eat!”

“Let’s go!” Y/N said, grabbing both of their arms and leading the way toward the VIP area’s food court.

“I was thinking,” Lils began with a mischievous grin, “why don’t we grab some snacks to try? I saw some really interesting options around here.”

“I love trying savory snacks!” Y/N said enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up. “Let’s get all the flavors.”

“I’ve never been here before,” Zneimer commented, looking around with curiosity. “But I saw some desserts that look amazing.”

They reached the snack kiosk, which was relatively quiet, making it easy to pick their choices. Soon, they sat down at a nearby table with their selections.

“It’s such a shame you two don’t come to races often,” Lils commented, pulling a funny face. “Imagine how much fun we could have if you were here more often!”

“I’d love to be at every race, but college doesn’t make it easy,” Y/N said, with a wistful smile. “Some days, it feels like there’s no time to even breathe!”

“Same here,” Lily Zneimer added, sorting through the snacks she had picked. “Between work and travel, it’s hard to keep up with everything.”

“You’re both so boring!” Lils teased with a mock pout.

“Not everyone is born with the talent for sports like you,” Y/N quipped, raising an eyebrow. “It’d be great if we were pro golfers too, but sadly, I’m just a struggling student.”

“Lucky for me, I’ve got the best of both worlds!” Lils joked, earning laughs from the other two.

The trio continued joking and chatting about silly topics, losing track of time. It was amazing how, despite the chaos of race weekends, they managed to carve out these little moments of fun.

“By the way,” Lils said with a cheeky grin, “what happened to your boyfriend’s hair? I saw him earlier, and it looked like he just rolled out of bed.”

Y/N burst out laughing and rolled her eyes. “I know! He swears it’s ‘casual style,’ but really, he’s just too lazy to use a comb.”

“At least he’s not as careless as Oscar,” Lily Zneimer chimed in, laughing. “I swear he doesn’t even know what a hairdryer is.”

“And he doesn’t care!” Y/N added, raising an eyebrow. “I try to fix it, but he always says, ‘I’m comfortable like this.’ At least he still looks good with messy hair.”

The laughter flowed naturally as the girls joked about their boyfriends’ quirks. Between the pressures of the season and the intensity of race days, these lighthearted moments were crucial to keeping their spirits up.

“Speaking of our boyfriends,” Lily MuniHe said with a mischievous smile, “how about we plan a double-date dinner? What do you think?”

“That would be perfect!” Y/N exclaimed, excitedly. “It’s been ages since we all went out together.”

“I’m in!” Lily Zneimer agreed. “I just need to talk to Osc first.”

“Osc! So cute!” Y/N teased, watching as Lily Zneimer’s cheeks turned pink.

“You can’t tease her!” Lils defended with a laugh. “You’re always calling Lando ‘Lan.’”

“Oh, but ‘Lan’ is adorable!” Y/N replied with a shrug, playfully provoking the two.

The three kept chatting animatedly as they finished their snacks, but the announcement that qualifying was about to begin had them scrambling to get up.

“Time to head back,” Y/N declared, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “I need to see my boyfriend secure pole position today.”

Lily Zneimer and Lily MuniHe followed her, still laughing and joking as they left the VIP area. The paddock was busier now, with mechanics and engineers rushing around, but the girls’ energy remained light and cheerful.

“So, what’s your prediction for today?” Lily asked, casting a curious look at her friend.

“Easy,” Y/N replied confidently. “Lando on pole and, with a bit of luck, Oscar right behind him.”

“Alright then, but if that happens, Osc and I will pay for the dinner we’ve been planning,” Lily countered, crossing her arms with a playful smile.

“Deal!” Y/N said, laughing. “And I’ll take care of dessert.”

Both girls laughed, sealing the agreement with an exaggeratedly dramatic handshake. As they reached the entrance to the garage, they shared a quick cheek kiss before parting ways to cheer on their respective boyfriends.

As Y/N stepped into the McLaren garage, her eyes immediately found Lando. He was already suited up in his signature orange racing gear, deeply engrossed in a conversation with one of the mechanics. She approached slowly, not wanting to interrupt. The moment the mechanic walked away, Lando noticed her presence and broke into a warm smile.

“Hey, honey! You finally showed up,” he said, his tone light and affectionate. “I was starting to think I’d have to get in the car without my good luck kiss.”

“I was with the girls, just wandering around the paddock,” Y/N explained as she stopped beside him. “But, of course, I wasn’t about to let you head out without seeing you first. By the way, I made a bet with Lily—if you get pole, she’s paying for dinner.”

Lando’s grin widened, clearly pleased with her confidence. He placed his hands gently on her waist, leaning in closer.

“Well then, I guess I’ve got one more reason to give it my all today, don’t I?” he said, his voice full of affection. “I’ll do it for you, my girl.”

Y/N smiled and stood on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I know you will,” she said with conviction. “But now you need to focus.”

“Just one more kiss,” Lando pleaded, his playful tone one she knew all too well.

Y/N gave in, brushing her lips against his again. What was meant to be a quick kiss deepened as Lando held her firmly by the waist, prolonging the moment. When they finally pulled apart, she rolled her eyes, trying to sound stern but failing to hide her amusement.

“Lan, you can’t kiss me like that in the middle of the garage!” she scolded, though her voice carried more laughter than seriousness.

“Why not?” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “You’re my girlfriend. I’ve got every right.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head but with a smile tugging at her lips. “Alright, Mr. Confident. Now go. Show everyone what you’re capable of.”

He grinned from ear to ear, pressing a kiss to her forehead before finally pulling away to get ready.