#I really REALLY just want to make sure there are as few moments as possible for people to accidentally have a Bad Time

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

RESTLESS. 18+

pairing. spencer reid x fem!reader summary. you’re struggling to fall asleep and you accidentally awake spencer in the process. an escalation of mindless touches becomes an attempt to tire you out word count. 1305 warnings. 18+ readers only. mdni!! pre-prison reid was in mind but you’re welcome to imagine another era. titty holding, fingering, pinv, soft sleepy sex, possible somnophilia (but not really bc both end up falling asleep at end) & cockwarming. enjoy x

It’s late, the time on your phone displaying a number far later than you'd like. You’ve been struggling to get to sleep for the last few hours, endless tossing and turning in hopes of drifting off proving to be nothing but fidgeting. 

And so, you place your phone back onto the nightstand after the umpteenth time of checking it, the sound audible through Spencer’s sleep, jolting him awake. You twist to look back at him behind you, his eyes alert — still sleepy— as he looks over you, making sure you’re the first thing he checks on.

“Sorry, I woke you up.”

He inhales deeply and reaches for you under the covers, slipping a hand under your bedtime top and up to one of your breasts — his hold mindless as he cups it. “It’s all right,” he says, voice tired and thick, still asleep. “Have you slept?” he asks, nuzzling his forehead into the back of your neck.

“No,” you reply, speaking softly as not to disturb the rhythm of his sleep more than you have.

“Aw, I’m sorry,” he apologises through his half asleep state, muttering into your skin. “I can stay up with you,” Spencer offers, pressing a kiss into shoulder.

“No, no. It’s okay,” you say, stroking over his arm through your t-shirt. “Get back to sleep, love. It’s late.”

His breathing changes behind you, the pattern more controlled now, like he’s waking up. “I can’t if I know you can’t,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, pressing a light kiss to where he just spoke.

“I feel bad keeping you awake.”

“Don’t.”

You snicker, the sound subtly entertained. “Oh right, yeah, okay,” you reply, tone sarcastic from his twinge of unintentional callousness.

You adjust your position, rolling onto your back to look at him — the moon casting a soft sheen of light on the side of your faces: illuminating his soft features and messy curls. He’s resting on his fist, elbow bent beside your head as he looks over you, expression growing more conscious.

“You know what I meant,” he smiles faintly, eyes closing as he shakes his head, amused. 

With his hand still clasped under one of your tits, you join him, sliding under your top to hold onto his fingers — keeping him to you. He follows your eyeline and mimicks the gaze set on your chest, each of you watching the soft caress under the fabric. Your eyes flicker up to him slightly above you and he follows, now peering down at you nestled beside his upper arm.

Like a mirror, he copies your movements, glancing down to your lips like you did him mere moments before. Each of your glances like a silent question, wordlessly asking if the same thought was on the other’s mind. And it was. 

You itch upwards slightly, neck raising and head lifting to get closer to him — pressing your lips to his. You linger for a brief moment, using the short pause to figure out whether his mind was in the same place as yours. He slips his hand away from under your breast, the act making you think otherwise. But instead he places it under your jaw, his hold almost needy — his fingers crawling across into the hairs at the back of your head. 

He returns the kiss, his one holding far more zeal than your anticipatory one, like he’s wanting to progress things — wordlessly communicating it with you. And with his palm clasped at the side of your throat, you’re slipping into the back of it and peeling him from you, leading  him someplace else.

You guide him down your stomach and down the front of your underwear, pushing your hands under the waistband and to your cunt. You inhale sharply into his mouth, the brisk, faint contact of his fingers over your clit enough to elicit such a reaction. 

Spencer takes your sound as a cue and does it again to gain that same response, only now there’s more of a whine to it — the sound telling him it’s not the time for teasing or games. He straightens his two middle fingers, the pads of each grazing over the mound, more intent behind his touch than the time before.

You place your hand that was between your legs to the side of his face, holding him close as he deepens the kiss. Your small, muffled moans murmur against him with every circle over your clit — the gentle swirls of his fingers warming you up little by little.

He ventures downwards, fingers spreading between your pussy’s lips to feel more of you. On instinct you part your legs, allowing him more space to continue his faint toying. Lending him more access to you.

He tests the waters and dips the tip of his finger into you, pushing in up to the first knuckle. And when he’s met with near no resistance, he’s delving in further, sinking his middle finger inside you completely. The feeling is far from full — it’s enough to notice, but not enough to satiate the need.

“Another,” you murmur into his mouth, nails grazing back into the sides of his hair. You latch onto his curls carefully, the act an urging attempt to redirect him. “Put another one in,” you whisper a faint plea through closed eyes. “Please,” you add, minding your manners.

He does as asked and slips his ring finger in too, slotting it beside his other to begin a very gentle rocking, scooping even. He parts from your lips and attaches to just under your jaw, pressing a litter of kisses to where his hand was all those moments before.

And as he attends to you without a question, you’re sliding your hand between your side and his front, reaching for the bulge protruding into you. You place it over his cock to begin an irregular palming, the feel of his cock growing hard against your touch makes you clench — the action noticeable around Spencer’s fingers.

He works a small trail of kisses to just under your ear before speaking, lips lingering just under the lobe. “On your side,” he murmurs, soft sleepy words laced with a sense of urgency.

You turn over like you were before this all started, and feel him immediately adjust behind you, feeling him scooch down the bed and ruffle with the fabric. 

He grabs a hold of himself, pulling his dick out over the top over the plaid waistband and guides himself towards you under the covers. And as you feel the head of his cock skim against the cheek of your ass, you lift your leg — allowing him space. You reach through your thighs to help him, help him into you. 

You guide him into you from behind, feeding him inside slowly. And when you feel that faint, little sting, each of you quietly gasp — the noise like that of relief as your heads hit the pillow.

He rocks into you experimentally, pushing the rest of himself into you with a faint wind of the hips. Spencer stills, holding the full length of his cock in place as he wraps an arm around tightly you, keeping you close. 

Your eyes grow heavy upon the filling and surrounding feel of him, the warmth of him against your back and the drowsy, languid breathing of him in your ear becomes white noise to you. The combination of it all finally catching up with you and  pushing you into that somnolent state.

You feel his arm grow heavy against you, the grip he has on you loosening. You can only imagine he was feeling a similar sense of contentment at you. And so, you eventually join him in slumber, curled up in his comfort and cock snugly slotted in you from behind, ready for the best few hours of sleep. 

[bunny-jpeg]

burnin' tire

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, masturbation, fantasies, mad!max, post-dutch gp, mechanic!reader

love the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? suggest your own!!

second.

second was first place for losers. that was what he had been told his entire life. second, seconde, secondo, however he could slice it, it still looked bad. so when he stomped back into the paddock with fire in his heart and a storm cloud over his head, the mechanics scattered.

they even went as far as to push you, their newest addition in front of max so they could get a head start away from mad max.

he looked down at you, something in his gaze left you a little shaky at the knees. this was your first race with the team, and you couldn't secure a win for max. it was almost embarrassing.

"i'm sorry, mister verstappen!" you pouted, "i'm really sorry! we tried to move as fast as possible, but i guess we couldn't keep up to mclaren." you worried about your job! you had just started, you were far from home and this was your dream to work for, "i'm so sorry!"

you almost had tears in your eyes, which deflated the anger from max's stance. he dropped his arms and looked at you. he replied, "there's nothing to be sorry about, it happens." as if he hadn't been on a losing streak for some time now.

your bottom lip quivered and your eyes grew watery, "this was your home race. and i'm just so sorry! i just wanted to do good, i wanted you to win!" a few tears fell and max was dumbfounded.

he was used to tearing into the mechanics and the engineers. he was used to snapping his words and letting rage consume him. instead he reached out for you, "hey, it's okay! don't cry. it's alright.'" he even wiped your tears away as your lip wobbled.

you got into his arms and gave him a bit hug. you looked at him and said, "i promise we'll win the next one! i promise!" even in those baggy coveralls you looked cute. if not beautiful.

max felt the anger disappear in his gut and he smiled at you, almost warm, "yes... yes we will." and when he patted you on the head and turned away and out of the paddock.

the other mechanics were in as much shock as you were. and while max would've loved to continue holding you, even reassuring you about the race in monza the following week. max was painfully hard from your brief interaction. it was like all the anger went to his cock and he needed to get out of there before he caused a scene.

back in the red bull motor home, max thought he was going to burst a blood vessel in his head. it was a pain to get into his jeans after he got out of his racing clothes. everything felt like a live wire, to go without masturbating for that long felt painful. especially when the source of his erection was playing in his read.

you smell like motor oil and warm vanilla, your touch was soft when you hugged him and that pretty face. even with the smear of grease on your face and the red bull cap on your head.

"mister verstappen." your voice rang in his head and he didn't even make it to the bed before his cock was in his hand. his palm covered in his spit as he sat on the couch and stroked himself still clothed.

he knew that the team had hired a new mechanic, but to see you in action made his brain feel almost rotten from the lust he felt. he barely paid attention to who was working on the car during the race but he knew you weren't working alone. and yet, you still carried all the responsibility for the team on your shoulders.

you poor thing. he continued to stroke his cock and he panted heavily at the feeling. thoughts of you were in his head as he pleasured himself. he wished you were there to do it for him. even if you wore you coveralls and covered in grease, if you were on your knees in front of him, your mouth on his cock as you pleasured him.

he wondered if you had even done that before. if you had any partners, or even one at the moment. he tried not to let the jealousy curl in his gut. he wasn't even sure, but he wouldn't have been surprised. you were beautiful, and who didn't love a gentle soul. you wanted max to win and max in turn felt towards you that he felt towards no other mechanic. he wanted you to work on his car, but also taking you out to dinner. to show you the finer things in life.

he wondered what colour panties you wore, and what cut. he knew you weren't wearing a thong, no when you were lifting heavy tires all day. he imagined something red, maybe a boy short. something that moved with the curves of your hips and thighs. he thought excited him, it really turned him on. made his face as red as he hoped that your panties would be.

how they'd curve to your ass, when you ran around the pit stop. how you would lift tools around. the strength to you. max liked models, but there was something about you the captivated him. and you didn't even know. you were just a humble mechanic, and you drove max wild.

he continued to stroke his cock heavily. he panted heavily as he felt his dark t-shirt cling to his back. his pace was quick up against his cock, he even spat on his hand once more to just to get the right friction. it was a head rush. he was not immune to masturbation, max did it almost daily if he had the time.

but to picture you in your bra and panties made him excited. hungry like a dog as he fucked his hand. he wished it was your pussy. he wished that he could bully the tip of his cock against you. he wished he could bend you in half and fuck you with a vigor that there were no other words for.

he wondered if you were loud, if he'd have to silence you with your panties. if he's have to cover your mouth or gag you, or would you just burst into tears like you did in the garage. the wet eyes,staring at him, promising that you'd do better next time. it made max want to fuck you even more. he wanted you every way he could have you.

"shit." he groaned through grit teeth as he continued to stroke his cock. he could feel his heart beat in his ears as he continued to masturbate. you were just a little thing, even with your skills as a mechanic, you were still so small. max felt he need to protect you.

he wanted to make sure you needed for nothing. he wondered if you'd have him as your lover. as your partner. the thought made him shudder as he continued to stroke his cock. he felt the head rush it all, he panted heavily as he stroked his cock.

his pace continued and he let himself get lost in the feeling. when it got overwhelming, he finished all over himself. your words rang in his mind, the promises you made. next time will be better. he'd win next time! and as cum dribbled all over his hand, he panted heavily with the head rush. he panted heavily and felt a shudder through climax. he wondered if you were touching yourself tonight, which made his cock twitch in his hand.

he was covered in cum at the waist and he felt hot all over. he rubbed his face with his free hand and for a moment felt in the post-orgasm shame. but it didn't last long.

with the after shivers of euphoria, he knew he had to do something. he couldn't be jerking off in private anytime he saw you. max was a man of action so after he cleaned himself off, he texted horner,

"i was wondering if i could properly meet with our new mechanic, show her the ropes. i think things will be promising with her." he tried to sound as professional as possible, but as thoughts of your watery eyes filled his mind. he knew he'd have to get himself off again soon. <3

[captain-huggy-bear]

Just a thought...

Quinn is a partner who wants, needs, to be able to meet your needs. It feels like a personal failure to him if he cannot do this or if something outside of his control effects you negatively.

It's a massive weight he puts on himself, uncessarily because your state of being is not entirely dependent on him and his actions. You try to remind him that it's actually unhealthy to think he is in that much control of your entire wellbeing. So it's difficult because any slight issue he wants to fix and some things just can't be fixed by him. You're fighting with a family member? Maybe this has been an issue your entire life and he wants to fix it, hates how it upsets you, but all he can do is help you enforce boundaries. You have a bad mental health day? He feels like he could have done more, even as he's making sure you shower and brush your teeth.

It's both a lovely thing and a problem because on one hand he will make sure you are financially, physically, mentally and emotionally safe around him and as far as he possibly can whether that's him paying the rent and all the bills or him putting himself between you and the road when you're walking down the street. But, on the other hand when things aren't perfect, when your needs or wants aren't being completely met, through no fault of his, he takes that as a personal failing.

I can see him beating himself up whenever he misses something important because of a game, despite the fact that it's his job, despite the fact you signed up for this and were, not happy, but okay with the reality. I can see him being really torn between his own life and his relationship.

That being said I think there are particular important moments that he simply would refuse to go to games for/during. You're in labour? You've just had a baby? He's not going on the road trip or playing the game, he'll dig his heels in on that one, he's at least around for the first few days if not the first week. You're having a major surgery and need support? He's staying. He might miss that work do, that work event, that family dinner, but I think he'd really pick you over hockey when it comes to those massive moments where you need his support and where any normal guy would be present.

The level that Quinn gives himself over to hockey, is the level he gives to his relationship too. He gives his all until there's literally nothing left and even then he's still trying to crawl to the finish line. If he's in, he's all in.

[yu-huuuu]

Hello if may request a madara who has crush like what steps he may go through for his plan to win them over. in the era of the hidden leaf time line (๑`✪̤◡✪̤)◞ღԵհɑղƘՏღ

[🌸] heheh-- This was funny.

genre: bad romantic comedy

warnings: Izuna lives because I say so. We want everyone alive and happy :b, fem!reader (I don't think the gender of the reader was mentioned…? Ahh, I don't remember pipi).

Summary: How to Win Over Your Crush in 4 Simple Steps — by: Madara Uchiha, feat: Three Idiots.

...

..

.

“Four is good luck.” Hashirama had started. “Maybe it would be a good idea if we helped you woo her like in the old days.”

Tobirama interrupted his older brother. “You mean that strange courtship of the ancestors of courting someone using four steps…? I thought four was bad luck.”

Hashirama replied with one of his characteristic smiles to his younger brother, “Yes, but I think it only applies to those who live in the south of the country.”

Izuna, being almost an unconscious idiot, spoke up, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Madara sweatdropped at the stupidity of his friend and brother. “… We live in the south,” he muttered.

…

-- Step number one: he would get to know her tastes.

Madara didn’t know how to start a conversation with you the first time he met you. And it’s not like he was an idiot or anything, he had talked to higher-ups and the heads of other villages before.

He was the fucking leader of the most powerful clan along with the Senju clan, the Uchiha clan.

That's why he couldn't forget that the first thing he said to you out of nerves was: 'I like your headband'... but, it wasn't even a headband! It was a hair ribbon!

And despite that silly mistake of his, you laughed or were you laughing with him...? No, you were definitely laughing at him.

But a part of him didn't care that you laughed at him, your smile combined with your laughter was a charming sight. Too bad it wasn't because of one of his unexpected and witty responses that made you laugh. What surprised him the most was that you decided to stay and start a short conversation with him despite his pathetic attempt to talk to you.

Unfortunately, you were just visiting that day at the Hokage tower. Being the second cousin of the Senju brothers you grew very close to them, becoming very close to both brothers.

When he told his brother and—mistakenly—his closest friend's younger brother along with the latter of them about his desire to court you, they decided to help him.

He turned to see where his younger brother was hiding. The fool simply gestured with his only available hand to encourage him to approach you, while the other held a few sweet breads he was eating that the idiot had bought with his money.

'Glutton', was Madara's first thought. But was he really going to blame him? After all, he was the first one who offered to help him.

“In order to really get to know someone you must know their likes, big brother. That way you'll know that person deeper.” That had been one of Izuna's pieces of advice.

Madara sighed as he watched your back. Tobirama had been the one who had made the meeting possible, bringing you to the front of one of the first restaurants that had been built after Konoha was founded.

According to the little information provided by the youngest of the Senju, it was one of the restaurants you frequented the most.

Taking all the courage he could muster, he slowly approached you. Vaguely, he wondered if you remembered him, for Kami's sake, what if you told him you didn't remember him?

He knew he was being dramatic, but he would surely die right then from embarrassment.

With a shake of his head he shook those thoughts away. “Don't think that way, Madara-.” He told himself before a soft voice brought him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, it's you.”

Uh-oh.

Almost comically, Madara turned to you. For your part, you feared for a moment that his neck would break from the abrupt way he turned to you.

All because he was looking at his dumb younger brother, he didn't see that you had turned around and saw him standing there, looking back like an idiot.

Madara stood still, the poor man having a short circuit; he wanted to say so many things at once, but he couldn’t say them. Was it this nervousness? It was most likely.

He reacted when he realized with embarrassment that he had been left with his mouth hanging open. With a loud snap, he closed his mouth trying to find the right words to start talking, but he just couldn’t find them.

Madara would have scolded himself again, but a small snort caught his attention.

Oh-, you were laughing…

At him… again.

He felt the heat overwhelming his cheeks, he belatedly realized that he was blushing… and oh my god, he was acting like a fucking teenager!

He swore that in the background he could hear his brother laughing and choking on whatever he was eating now.

“Do you want to go eat with me?”, you asked, getting him out of his mind with your pretty voice; Obviously, you were oblivious to his thoughts or your surroundings.

Madara nearly choked trying to answer and, luckily or by a miracle, he managed to answer you, “yeah, sure,” although he spoke a little louder than usual.

The embarrassment he was feeling was enough to make him wish he was swallowed by the earth, Madara Uchiha wanting to be swallowed by the earth… What kind of nonsense and lie was that? He swears that no woman ever managed to put him that way, he was supposed to be the one who put them that way.

And yet, here he was wanting to bury his head in the ground while he followed you inside the small but cozy restaurant.

“And tell me… What things do you like?”

…

Hashirama had a serious expression, if someone had seen them from afar they would have thought they were talking about something serious, politics or something between clans.

However, that was very far from reality.

“Women like to feel special—”

“I know, I had lovers in the past”

“And that's why— wait what.”

Madara felt a strong urge to sigh when he saw his friend's stupid face, looking at him as if he had grown a second head, or as if he had said something like “I'm going to rule the world. If you want to stop me, you'll have to kill me” and then magically survived that battle and hid underground for sixty years planning some kind of revenge with an abandoned child and a creature of dubious origin. The thought made him roll his eyes, as if he was going to do it.

“I had lovers in the past… Did you think I was some kind of social retard?”

“Yes… I mean no—, of course not!”

He raised an eyebrow, Madara was beginning to doubt his friend's abilities. The fact that he had a wife seemed a little unbelievable to him now.

Was this a government social experiment? Wait what.

Hashirama sighed before speaking after a long while. “She likes conversations that can bring out her wit, you know?”

“…I think her ideal type is someone who can flow with her, and who answers with the same kind of wit… at least that’s how she’s been since we were kids”

Madara was absorbing every ounce of information his friend was giving him about you. A little you seemed adorable to him, although truth be told, you were already adorable. “I can imagine,” he said as a subtle, amused smile crept up his lips.

“Oh, believe me, she sometimes got on the older ones’ nerves when she brought out her wit”

His smile softened as he imagined a little you fluttering like a little butterfly among the adults and graciously answering what they said to you. Madara wondered to himself: if he ever had children with you, would they be just like you?

“I can handle it”

“… liar.”

Madara didn't waste his time denying that, after all you and he had agreed to meet at the field that was at the southern end of the village. His heart began to pound with excitement just thinking about meeting you again, he just hoped he wouldn't get as nervous around you as the first time.

...

-- Step Two; ‘Romantic’ Dates

“Alright, listen up,” Izuna spoke up interrupting whatever Tobirama was going to say. “Now you’re about to dive into dangerous waters–”

“You talk like he’s about to enter a battlefield, it’s just a date.”

“Says the one who’s never been on a date in his life.”

“You son of a–”

Madara let out a snort of annoyance, these two weren’t helping at all.

“Listen,” Tobirama exclaimed with annoyance evident in his voice and face, “it’s nothing to be alarmed about, the only thing that changes is that they won’t be friendly dates, they’ll start to be more romantic and serious.”

“Yes, it's something like this,” Izuna said pointing at the drawing of a staircase (?) he had made on the ground, “you are here,” he said pointing at step one, “where the dates to get to know each other better begin… then you will be on step two at the kissing part and ask her to be your life partner,” his brother's voice became dramatic.

“And… what does the last step mean–?”, Tobirama asked pointing at the last step.

“Stay away, Satan!”

Madara looked at them with a disturbed face as he watched them talk about… he honestly didn't feel like repeating it in his mind, he didn't want to see you like that. At least not yet, you looked so pure that the idea of ​​corrupting you hurt him… in more than one way.

He simply walked away trying to get rid of the new thoughts that began to torment him. He looked at the sky, it was beginning to get dark, there was still time.

His walk was slow but sure, some passersby stopping to greet him politely as they passed. Madara wasn't surprised, being the leader of the Uchiha Clan it was normal for people to show him respect.

Vaguely, he wondered if you accept being his, Would you feel uncomfortable if people and civilians bowed to greet you? It would be normal for you to feel that way, knowing you and your status. He could almost imagine your cute face awkward as you walked beside him.

No, surely you would overcome that. You are a strong and amazing woman, you deserved more than a pathetic nod as a greeting. To Madara people should kneel and kiss your feet to greet you.

Although, you probably wouldn't agree with that. You are such an amazing and gentle woman, that your mere existence in this corrosive world shouldn't exist. But you are also a woman who because of her status wasn't that important to her clan.

He grimaced.

But as soon as it appeared, it disappeared when he saw you. Your eyes lit up when you saw him, causing a small smile to appear on his normally stoic face.

Well, if your status doesn’t mean anything now, he’ll definitely make it so in the future.

“How are you?”

…

-- Step Three: ‘Gifts and always Showing Trust’

“What, you don’t know what else to give her?” Izuna asked carelessly as he munched on an onigiri.

“No,” he replied as he tried to think of what to give you as a sign that he was fully committed to you. In the Uchiha clan, there was this tradition where the man had to give you something meaningful as a sign of commitment and loyalty to the other person, though he vaguely wondered if you would understand his gestures since you weren’t part of the Uchiha clan.

“What about flowers?”

“I already gave her flowers before.”

“Second date?”

“No, third date.”

Izuna hummed as he tried to think, “Oh… and what about those western sweets? You know those so-called… chocolates.”

Madara fell into thought, what if you didn’t like them? They were new to the people of Konoha, several people hadn’t liked them — mostly elders — because of the exotic taste.

But you were an adventurous spirit, he was sure you wouldn't mind trying it.

He smiled before ruffling his brother's unkempt hair, who choked a little at the movement. “Good idea,” he congratulated him before quickly moving away from the boy before he could hit him.

Madara walked quickly to the only store that currently sold those so-called chocolates, already feeling excited to see your reaction.

When he entered the soft aroma of pastries hit his nose, surely you would like this place. With a confident step he approached the counter, focusing on the small sign that was next to the chocolates. ‘Heart-shaped chocolates’ was what it read, although he felt a little confused when he saw the shape of the chocolates… they weren't heart-shaped.

He knew this, because seeing hearts outside the body of his opponents was not strange to him. Although, surely, the ‘shape of hearts’ was a Western thing.

“I want a package of heart-shaped chocolates,” he asked the girl behind the counter without bothering to look at her.

When his order was ready, he paid for it without looking back as he tried to think of how to give them to you without looking weird. Maybe on your next date he could give them to you, but, that might look too forward on his part.

“Oh, hello, Madara.”

Madara stopped, you were in front of the door… you were going to…

Were you going to enter?

He wanted to hit himself right now. Of course, being the person you were, you were surely the first person to have tried them when you entered the village.

“Did you buy chocolates?” you asked amused as you looked at the bag and then at him. He couldn’t blame you and you clearly weren’t making fun of him being a man and it was a sin for him to like sweets. Of course not, it was because he had told you in the beginning that he hardly liked sweet things.

“… They are for you,” he said as he handed them to you, almost shy, yet, showing himself confident.

“Oh…”, you managed to articulate before taking the package of chocolates, you looked at the bag between a mix of amazement and surprise before looking at him and smiling tenderly. “Would you like to enjoy them with me?”

…

You were so excited, your body exuded happiness infecting him in its path, “Isn’t it amazing?”

“It definitely is,” Madara replied with a smile looking at you with adoration.

Your first painting had been sold. It was a simple painting but so beautiful, although in his eyes everything you did was beautiful. 

When he heard the news from Hashirama he had almost run out to congratulate you. It was an achievement, it was your achievement, that’s why he was happy.

“I… I still can’t believe it was sold! Honestly, it’s so ugly I can’t believe it, haha!” you laughed, though Madara’s smile disappeared when he heard your comment about your work.

Ugly? That was the last term he would use to address something you’ve done. “I don’t think it’s ugly, I think it’s beautiful and special just like you.”

How cheesy.

Well.

At least it worked… that is, if your blushing face and star-like sparkling eyes told him anything.

Ha, take that Tobirama, who said he couldn’t praise and be cheesy at the same time.

…

-- Step four; ‘confess’

Madara’s hair fluttered, the wind ruffling his long black locks. He wondered if he looked disheveled.

He wanted to formalize what he had with you. In his eyes it was time. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, your smile, the look in your eyes, the way your face lit up when you saw something you liked or when you looked at him.

You had him under some kind of spell. Not that he was complaining about this.

“Madara!” your voice called out to him. And as lovely as ever you approached him, trotting gently. Your hair fluttering behind you, like a beautiful waterfall of the rich color of your hair.

He said your name when you were close to him. “I’m glad to see you,” he paused for a moment to organize the next words he was going to say. “I want to tell you something.”

Your head tilted slightly to the side as a curious look flooded the beautiful color of your eyes, adding a spectacular shine as if a fairy had put that shine there making him fall even more in love with you. “Oh, about?”

Madara felt his hands sweat, making his heart flutter. Why was he so nervous? “I would like to formalize this.”

He looked at your beautiful face, watching as your expression filled with surprise. “You… want… what?”

This confused him, why did you look so doubtful?

However, without wasting another moment, he continued: “I want to make this formal. I want to get serious with you, I want to love you and I want to conquer you more and more every day… if you give me permission to do so. I don’t promise to be perfect… just like I don’t ask you to be, I only ask that you allow me to call you mine and that you allow me to stay by your side.” His quiet, serious, yet almost gentle voice came out trying to lull your ears.

You looked at him as he held his breath, afraid that you would leave and push him away, or even afraid that you had overstepped your boundaries. Did he do something wrong? Did he overstep your boundaries?

Why were you not answering him?

It wasn't until a moment later that felt like an eternity that you finally smiled. Such a beautiful smile… full of life and beauty.

It was at that moment that he allowed himself to smile too. There were no words, no explanations or confirmations of anything.

He knew that the two of you would be together no matter the circumstances.

…

Epilogue::

“Have you loved others?” you asked softly. Your voice, almost like a siren's song that echoed in the sounds of the forest. Your eyes like two precious gems shining in the moonlight.

“Have you?” he asked in the same tone as yours, looking at you where you had settled. You were close to where his heart is, an appropriate place when it comes to you he thought.

“Yes…”

“… Yes”

You confessed as if you were both confessing some teenage stupidity.

“Did you know I wanted to court you?” He asked you after a while.

“Huh? Oh, you talk about that. Tobirama told me the first day we met in front of that restaurant”

“… I’m going to kill him”

You snorted clearly amused. “No need, he helped me sort out my feelings”

“… I guess he’s saved this time”

Your soft giggles like an angel's songs that warmed his heart and brightened his soul, making him feel alive. He pulled you closer to his chest, feeling warm and loved.

And for that moment, which could perhaps be the last, he truly felt at peace.

…

3157… 3157 wORDS!

anyway! i wanted to do something different :D, like… a one shot style writing but following what my lovely anon asked me haha ​​:3 it’s nice to be back!! please reblog and give me a big heart 🪭❤️

Ily guysss!! You always make me happy❤️❤️❤️

[pwblant]

SUNDAE STOP — l.ant

┊a/n : hey riizeblr, here’s an approx. 670 word fic that i wrote at 2am because i couldn’t stop thinking about the anton sundae photo up there 👆 he looks so bf 😕 (p.s., anton and yn keep slipping, REALLY REALLY bad actors 🫡) reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated <3 enjoy!!!

┊warnings : maybee just the couple moments but other than that there’s nothing that you should be afraid of pookie 🫰🫰

it’s a quiet saturday afternoon just a few days ‘till Christmas, you and anton are strolling leisurely through the mall with some of your old friends from your hometown. you’ve all known each other for years, but since you and anton both moved away to study at a different school, it’s been a while since you all last got together. as expected, the catch-up session was in full swing. everyone was sharing updates on their lives—what they’ve been up to, who’s in a relationship, and what new hobbies they’ve picked up—and you and anton were no exception. it was fun being with your closest friends after the longest time; there’s laughter, nostalgia, and pure happiness. 

but amidst all the fun, there is one thing that neither you nor anton have mentioned yet: that the two of you have been dating for the past 6 months. the idea of being teased by your friends was too much to handle, so you both decided to keep it a secret for now and instead tell them when the time is right.

“guys, let’s go to that sundae shop over there!” you beamed excitedly.

“hey now, aren’t you full? we just ate, bab—” anton began, but you cut him off as he unconsciously slipped his arm around your shoulders, earning collective side-eyes from your friends.

“i—um.. guys, do you wanna go there?” you stammered, letting out an awkward laugh, anton’s arm instinctively finding its way to the back of his neck as he realized how suspicious you both looked.

“sure! ice cream sounds so good right now.” your friend replied.

you thank the heavens above because it seemed your friends brushed off what had just happened. with an exaggerated sigh of relief, you all entered the sundae shop.

the others ordered quickly, and it was just the two of you left who haven’t chosen what to order. standing in front of the counter, you scanned the menu, eyes lighting up at the words “sundae skyscraper.” you quickly glanced up at anton, who was standing next to you, and reported what you’d just found. 

“can we share this? pleaaasee i really want it.” you happily ask, batting your eyelashes at him in a playful manner. “it’ll make me the happiest girl in the world.” 

a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, despite his best effort to suppress it. “i’m not falling for your persuading techniques,” he says, though he was already reaching into his wallet to pay.

“you’re the best!” you exclaimed, letting out a soft, triumphant squeal as you moved to hug him. you almost leaned in for a kiss right then and there but quickly remembered that you were trying to keep your relationship a secret. you awkwardly pulled back and glanced at the group, only to find them already staring at you both, smirking knowingly.

“hey anton lee, you’re on a roll! buy a sundae for me next?”one of your friends shouted from the table, and the others laughed, chiming in.

anton’s smile falters, “hell no, i'm not thaat generous, man! we’re sharing this!” playfully rolling his eyes at them.

after paying, you tried to walk back to the group’s table as casually as possible, but their knowing grins made it clear to you that there was no point in trying anymore.

“fine, we’re dating” you sighed as you plopped down next to anton, announcing it like the world’s greatest myster had just been solved. 

“yea…. we figured so.” the friend sat next to you said as she let out a little chuckle.

you talk about your relationship—all about how you met, how he confessed, and how long you’ve been together, expecting at least some teasing or dramatic reactions from your friends. instead, they just nodded, as if it was no big deal—like they'd known all along. there wasn’t a single eyebrow raised, no teasing remarks, just a quiet acceptance. if you’d known it would be this easy and stress-free, you would’ve outed your relationship the first chance you got.

you let out a big sigh, “alright, now that that’s out of the way, i'm going to devour this sundae.”

[haerinari]

JUST THE WAY YOU ARE — 이 희승

PAiRiNG: bf!heeseung x insecure!fem!reader.

SyNOPSiS: you feel insecure about your body but Heeseung is always there to make you feel better.

WARNiNGS: kissing, skinship, kind of smut, mentions of the female body, insecurities, heeseung is a cutie, nipple sucking,

GeNRa: fluff, smut-ish, established relationship, short drabble.

now playing: just the way you are — bruno mars

Your back was resting in your bed, Heeseung softly on top of you kissing your lips while his hands were roaming all over your body.

Of course you’ve make out with him a few times before, but it never have gotten this far.

Your experiences of having sex with past of previous relationships didn’t end in the best way possible. Instead of being a beautiful and intimate moment with your partner to express the love you had for each other, it ended up in you crying in your bathroom floor.

we should turn the lights off…

damn—you have a lot of stretch marks.

you didn’t shave? uh—maybe we should stop.

your ass has a weird shape.

your boobs are too big.

i don’t wanna see your belly next time, alright baby?

You were so lost in your own mind that you didn’t even notice when Heeseung took your shirt off, leaving only the bra that was covering your breasts and your pants on.

“Hee…” you spoke softly, your forehead resting against his.

“Hmm? Are you okay, baby? We can stop if you want, no pressure. Take you time.” he said, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“I just— are you sure you want to do this?”

“Of course I want to.” Heeseung stoped and sat on the bed, looking directly into your eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be? I love you.”

“I know, I know. It’s just that…” you sighted. “I don’t want to fuck up this moment because I really love you too, Hee.”

“Y/N, baby, it’s okay. You’re not going to fuck up anything, you can tell me whatever you want.” he took your hand and started kissing your knuckles.

“It’s just that—Boys have said things, about my body. And I don’t want you to think something related to that, you know? I mean—What if you think that my belly has a weird shape? Or you see that I have stretch marks on my waist and you don’t like them? Or—”

“Y/N!” Heeseung spoke, taking your hands between his hands and kissing your forehead. “I love you, okay? I, Lee Heeseung, Love. You.”

“I love your eyes.” he kissed a spot near them. “I love your hair.” then your head. “I love your lips.” he gave you a kiss. “I love every single inch of your body, and there’s no thing on this Earth that would make me change my mind.”

“You’re so fucking cute, oh my god.” you pulled him in a hug. no one has ever said such a beautiful thing about your body, and for the first time in a very long journey, you felt comfortable with yourself. “Thanks, Hee. I love you.”

“You’re going to let me take care of you now?” he smirked.

“Yeah.” you smiled.

Your boyfriend’s lips were in yours once again, his hands touching your breasts over your lacy bra. He kissed your lips, your cheeks, your jaw and slowly getting down your neck. Your bra was now discarded somewhere on your room floor, and Heeseung’s kisses were slowly getting down to your tits.

“So perfect… So fucking perfect.” he murmured between kisses.

His mouth went to one of your nipples, sucking the bud softly and kissing it here and there. Your other nipple was between Heeseung’s fingers, who was pinching it to give you the perfect amount of pleasure. He then went to your other nipple, taking care of it like he did before.

Heeseung took his shirt off to now focus on trailing a path of kisses from the between of your breasts to where your pants started. He took them down a little bit, revealing your stretch marks on the side of your waist. He started to kiss them, every single stretch mark or imperfection visible in your body was getting touch by your boyfriend’s sweet and loving lips.

“You’re the most beautiful woman on the entire earth.”

He got up and went to your kiss your lips again, a gesture of reassurance telling you he loved you and every single part of you.

[igglemouse]

The symptoms are hitting hard this morning as you can see and it is very difficult to make it to the restroom when you have to walk as slowly as possible. I worry for a moment that I might not make it but don't worry I get there just in time.

But my morning is the usual, changing diapers and keeping her squeaky clean. Which isn't easy since it sometimes feels like she does whatever she can to avoid being clean. At least this morning she waited until six a.m. to cry for attention!

Pascal's morning is also the usual, for him at least. Beating up that poor treadmill again. This man is really dedicated to his fitness and it's so admirable that I'm happy to let him be in the mornings.

So I feel like the sooner I bring it up, the better. It makes little sense holding it back from him since he'll figure it out eventually. I expect he'll be happy just based on the last time we talked about children, so there isn't any pressure about it this time. I think I'll just bring it up over breakfast actually. Yeah, that is the plan!

So that's exactly what happens. We finish an apple salad and before Pascal can get up and likely go train or work out again I keep him at the table with a simple sentence. "Looks like Flora will be having a little brother or sister."

It takes him a few seconds to either parse what I mean OR come to grips with it. "You're pregnant?" I give my head a little nod and watch as a smile spreads across his face. "Wow!"

"Would it be biased if I hope it is a boy?" He says and I quickly shake my head.

"Nope! I'd be happy with a boy too, keep things even, I guess," and maybe would get him more involved? Although, I will say, he has stepped up a little. Not a lot but...a little is better than nothing.

While I'll soon be a mother of two I am also still very much a Simtube content creator and I must make sure that to keep the momentum going for my channel and so it's time to record a new video.

This one will teach anyone how to make quick and chewy blueberry bagels. A nice desert to go along with a main dish to be sure and I think easy enough for anyone to bake! I will admit that my baking skills are not the best buuuuuuuuuut I think I am proud of the end result!

Thankfully Flora slept right through the recording of my video but you know right after it I had to go and check on her and play with her and give her a little tummy time. I think she does pretty well although she definitely throws a tantrum in the middle of it.

But if you recall I had planned on inviting both Sara and Marjorie over to meet Flora and well...because of previous events I'd like to move past it is only Sara who comes.

She does arrive with a bit of a frown on her face and I'm sure I'll find out why she's in such a sour mood but first to invite her inside and more importantly, introduce her to Flora!

And so I have to go and pull Flora from her crib and bring her to Sara who lights up at the sight of her. Whatever frown she had on her face instantly melts away and she can't wait to hold her.

"Florencia is her full name," I say to Sara as she coos and snuggles Flora who is being very well behaved right now! "She seems to only be fussy with me!"

"Well of course because she knows you'll listen to every little demand she has!"

"Having the strong urge to have your own yet?" I joke but I can tell saying that hit the wrong nerve. "Sara, I didn't mean-"

"No, it's fine, I want to but...can we talk about it a little later?"

"Of course!"

It was then that Flora decided she had enough of introductions and started to cry.

"Ok ok Flora, we get it, we get it!," I say taking her back and letting Sara know she's free to hang around but I have to get her to sleep.

Sara was exploring the house a bit since its actually her first time here and in the end I find her seated right before my tempting blueberry bagels. I'm guessing she would have taken one but she looks like she has a lot on her mind right now. "This place is...really nice," she says, at least in a much better mood than when she arrived.

"Isn't it? Still very empty but we'll fill it day by day, I hope."

"It's a lot of space to fill but it's also not too much, if that makes sense?" She is right. It's not exactly a mansion but it's big enough to be impressive.

"So..." I start, curious about what has Sara all sour right now. "Is everything okay?"

"It's the guy, you know the one I'm dating?" she reveals but all I can do is nod my head because I actually do not know the guy she's dating. She has kept his identity as vague as possible, not on purpose, I think, but he remains a mystery to me all the same. "He's umm, well, let's just say his occupation isn't clean."

"Clean?" I urge, needing a bit more.

"He works for the cartel...I think."

"Oh," well, that's no good. You all know i have an extensive relationship with the cartel but Sara does not know that. All she knows is that I'm an immigrant. "Sara, who exactly are you-"

"Well, that's not the problem," she says, as if there could be something bigger than that. "He apparently has a bit of a promotion on the table and thinks he should take it."

"A promotion in that world usually means more simoleons and more of a chance of also getting killed," I tell her honestly. "Sara, who is this guy?"

"My boyfriend?" she says, which is obvious. I know that but how do I get more information out of her about him?

"Sara, I've known a few cartel guys from...well, they basically ran the town I came from. Maybe I know about him and can better prepare you for-?"

"Simón," she says and at that moment my heart drops.

There is only one Simón that I know and I do not think there could be another especially tied to the cartel. Maybe there is, it's not that uncommon of a name after all, but before I can ask for his last name she's moved on, perhaps sensing that I wasn't into the conversation so somehow she's talking about Flora again.

"She really is adorable isn't she? You know it was dangerous coming over here I might get the fever myself!"

"O-oh uh yeah, yeah," I say, regaining my balance. She's very possibly dating Simón, my Simón. "Oh umm, by the way, I'm pregnant again," I announce for whatever reason. Perhaps because I was not sure what else to say or do in the moment.

Well, that will certainly be awkward if she introduces me to him. I would tell her that I know him but I'm only 90% sure that she's talking about the same guy...maybe, hopefully, she is not.

Frida Varela - Next Episode 10.4

[weird-dere-writes]

Violently shitting myself on the first date is DIABOLICAL WORK MIMI jskdjdkdhkdndjdd

Okay situation setup first, mutual friends set me and Ichigo up on a blind date. We are both a little slow to warm up to one another and get comfortable, but once we do, everything is lovely <3.

This is actually my second time eating out today. The first time was with one of the friends that set us up for the date as a little debrief about the guy I’m meeting. Went to a new restaurant for the first time then, and hours later on the date it is clearly affecting me.

Ichigo has heard my stomach grumbling too throughout our date which has me a little bashful, but he’s been so nice about it fr. I told him it might have been something I ate, so he’s understanding. But at some point the urge to go just hits me and I rush a “I’llberightback” before making a b-line for the bathroom.

Unfortunately for me the terlet does not feel the wrath of my guts. I don’t make it in time and now I am trapped in this conundrum.

I spend the next few moments standing in shock, mortified. Thank GOD no one else has walked into the bathroom. I am freaking out. WHAT IN THE WORLD DO I DO IN THIS SITUATION???

My first thought was to call either of the friends that set us up. Unfortunately neither answer.

So I am forced to face THEE most embarrassing ordeal ever bc I cannot stay shitty pantsed lest I get a rash.

1. Do you tell your fave and do you go back to the table?

Yes, and yes AUGH. But I am telling the staff before I do either so I can 1) escape the moment for a little longer and 2) warn them so they can clean any remnants of my biohazard nskdjxkd. Shortly after I am making my walk of shame back to the table, not sitting down on the chair as I meet him again.

2. What do you say if you do tell them? How does that conversation go?

I’ll start with an awkward ‘hey’. He’ll greet me back, and then i tell him I’ve really been enjoying his company but I have to cut the date short. I hope we can meet again, but I understand if he doesn’t want to after this. (screaming internally because HOW COULD I FUMBLE THE BAG WITH A GUY SO HOT AND NICE 😭😭😭). And then I tell him “I just shit my pants. Like really bad… I need to go home and shower. I’m so sorry.”

He looks at me genuinely shocked and his eyes flick down to my pants before quickly going back up to my face, his own turning a little red. I don’t know if it’s out of disgust or if he’s trying to be respectful, but a girl can hope for the ladder 😔😔😔. Nothing comes out of him but a breathless “Oh…”

Seconds of us blinking at each other later, he shakes his head a little and stands up, before asking me if I’m okay. I tell him I’m fine, just majorly embarrassed. He quickly arranged to pay for all of our food, probably on account of feeling bad for me HELP. And we end up outside.

I feel my eyes watering, but I’m trying to hold the tears at bay.

3. Does your fave help you if you do tell them? If you ghost, do they ask why?

When we’re outside, he offers me his jacket to sit on so I don’t get shit in my car. And while that is so nice I am again SO MORTIFIED bc I can’t POSSIBLY accept that HELP. He won’t take no for an answer though. Insists the jacket is old anyway. Says he doesn’t want me suffering more than I have to. It’s kind he’s considering me so but I still feel horrible. I don’t even know whether to ask if he wants it back bc honestly I know my ass would just burn it if it were mine.

I ask any way though, and make sure he knows I will be cleaning the FUCK outta that thang but in nicer words of course. He takes a minute to think about it, seeming quite hesitant, but ultimately says yes. Again, I believe out of pity for me so I don’t feel more embarrassed. Gives me his number so we can arrange for that return sometime, walks me to my car bc it’s late and safety mmmm. then we go our separate ways.

4. Do you get a second date?

Some power or other must have smiled upon me for my honesty and bravery bc YES! 😭

Surprisingly I do! 🧎🏾‍♀️

I found out bc one of the mutual friends who found out about the fiasco gave me a sticker about 2 weeks later. It was a funny/cutesy drawing of a bunny sitting on a toilet with the words “IBS = I be shittin” on it.

Once it’s in my hand my soul leaves my body bc ik what she’s referring to and I want to DIE thinking about it. And she’s like, “I hear he’s been thinking about you.”

Of course for obvious reasons I assume she means he’s been thinking about that experience and probably not so positively of me.

But then she says he’s been wanting to arrange another date, but has been shy. She elbows me and tells me I need to return that jacket of his sometime~.

💀 <- *me after she said that with bell tolling sound*

As a matter of fact Mimi, “she” could honestly be u fr NDKDJDKDJDKC

cw gross but here’s the scenario:

you’re on a first date with your fave, it’s perfect, but suddenly your tummy starts to rumble. you barely make it to the bathroom. you shit yourself.

questions:

1. do you tell your fave and do you go back to the table?

2. what do you say if you do tell them? how does that conversation go?

3. does your fave help you if you do tell them? if you ghost, do they ask why?

4. do you get a second date?

[musical-chick-13]

3 and 5 for the fandom asks please!! 🥰

3. Do you anticipate writing for a new fandom this year? Which one?

Several things on the Giant WIP List are for fandoms I've never posted fic for! (Like, for example, Noir (2001) or Chainsaw Man or DN or obscure Dutch opera Sunken Garden.) But being WIPs, I guess this would mean that I have still, technically, already written something for those fandoms. So if we're talking about "Do I anticipate starting anything brand new this year for a new fandom," then for my own sanity I think the answer is going to be "no." (Though I did write a completely unrelated Christmas fic in like. Three days at the end of last year, so...never say never..........)

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA (<-not laughing at you, this is the sound of me crying).

Okay. So anyone who has been following me for the past like. Few months at least. May have heard me talk about something I keep calling "The Fic That's A Lot." This is the first thing on the WIP list I'm trying to complete because I've been trying to do that for the past... actually I don't want to look at how long I've been working on it, we're going to move on.

Those who have borne witness to the saga of me trying to finish this will know just how much of. A Challenge. This has been for me. It's, ultimately, a character study of 11 and River (and, by extension, their relationship) that takes place after they're already married, but it is the most...unconventional, we'll say, thing I've ever written. I don't want to elaborate too much, just because the premise itself is full of some very specific trigger warnings (MUCH more so than my usual fare of things like intense grief or discussing the particulars of intrusive thoughts). But the closest thing I can reasonably give to a summary (which...I know you already know this because I've been screaming to you about it for the past God-knows-how-long) is that River breaks her ankle, and from there spirals a series of events that make her husband go, "Sure hope this doesn't awaken anything in me" and her go, "Yeah, this has definitely awakened something in me." Lmao, let me see if I can find a passage of this that a) I haven't already posted and b) isn't completely deranged.

The sound of the chamber orchestra tuning their instruments shakes her out of her musings, and she remembers something that’s been prodding at her brain since she realized what was on the live feed. “How are you accessing this footage? I thought the workshop was a closed event. Airtight security.” His only response is to smirk, eyebrows darting slyly up and down. Which can only mean he’s done something very difficult, very clever, and-given his lack of elaboration on the subject-probably illegal. That last one sparks a wicked sort of thrill in her, one she’ll have to fully unpack later. “And they say I’m the bad influence.” His face snaps into something oddly serious, like this inconsequential piece of banter is an affront to something. (Affront to what, she has no idea.) “You’re not,” he says.

new year fanfic asks

[todayisafridaynight]

INCREDIBLY FUNNY that I refused to settle for just saying "bread" but yes it was those! So in that sense, the lavish bread physics are integral to conveying how important the little things were in getting him through prison. Still, for the sake of the drip…...... perhaps sacrifices are needed...

But yeah, I'm thrilled you noticed those things about the evolution of Jo's design, too! It's super interesting to think about in terms of storytelling, I don't think you're inarticulate in saying that at all. Speaking of, I also just look up "holder" to find prev asks at this point lol

Jo and Ichi's dynamic is also a major topic of interest for me (as we've seen). I think a lot of what's going on with them is definitely some variation of "old habits die hard." That's natural when you form that kind of uneasy coexistence. But like you mentioned, it's also telling that Jo picked up the nickname in the first place, because I went back through the entire script, and it really is the case that only Arakawa, Masato, Jo, and the people who raised Ichi call him that. It's reserved for his family.

I think this line about Aoki (that I completely forgot about before looking at the script again lol) may also shed some light: "A long time ago, I knew him as the young master. He knew me as Ichi." Because they all do that, don't they? Ichi still says Captain, Boss, and Young Master, Jo still says Boss, Ichi, and Young Master, Aoki still says Dad and Ichi.

Even though on paper these relationships should've dissolved with Ichi being expelled, Masato becoming Aoki, and Jo taking over as second patriarch, to one another, they're all still who they used to be. And as an aspect of how they communicate, the "learned language" that forms in families, it stands out when they're all on the same page with the terms they choose to use.

This line from Ichi also stood out to me: "But my aniki taught me different. He said whoever makes the first move is the victor. The guy with steel balls wins." Like, that's clearly Jo, right? For one thing, the "flavor" of aniki is different from Captain, of course--one is directly an appointed post, and one is more open to interpretation--but it also clearly shows that Jo's imparted his "philosophy" to Ichi in some ways.

I think, to a degree, it's one of those holdovers from RGGO that wasn't fully implemented. Because they're more or less the same in RGGO in this regard, but RGGJo does outright say it makes him weirdly happy that Ichi still calls him Captain, so that's a clearer indicator and makes the idea feel more "complete."

With what I said before about their "learned language," too, the Arakawa Family has this way of saying goodbye that's specific to them, and I really miss it in Y7. It is referenced briefly, but it's not a "thing" like it was in RGGO. It's kinda like how The Gang in It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia greet each other with "Hey-ohhh!" LMAO idk but. I Enjoy. But that's also why it stood out to me that LaD8Jo greets Ichi the same way as Y7Jo and RGGJo.

ALSO that is so sick the author of Soliloquy saw your art…… incredible……….. + as an aside since I was reminded, it's very true that sometimes people seem to "fill in the blanks" with tropes, and my favorite is honestly when it's both funny and offensive. There was this whole "phase" (and to everyone's credit it was short-lived) of playing Mine up like this Huge Misogynist because he's not attracted to women, and it's WILD to recognize that he's gay but still pull up homophobic tropes for funsies.

Like I was mad at the time mostly on account of the mischaracterization (because come on, even if you've only seen Y3, he is still uncharacteristically soft with Katase… not that he wasn't INSANE for The Slap, but it also wasn't at all rooted in the same things as say, Nishiki slapping Reina might've been.) But it was funny. Perhaps not in the way it was intended to be, but it was funny. And, you know, that's why I'm happy to stay in my own little corner as well.

You coulda just said bread it's ok 😭 I WAS right though it WAS a carb......

On the subject of language though, it's def something I picked up on (if my last ask wasn't any indication lmao)! It's a real neat detail and something I think helps push that 'family' theme Y7 has going on (or at the very least demonstrates how despite the times changing, they still have those bonds with each other whether they acknowledge it or not), it definitely being a case of picking up a habit/term from family.

About tropes in fan works though, I can't act like I'm guiltless of it LMAO so I don't have too strong of a leg to stand on when it comes to criticizing it (and I can't lie, sometimes I do find playing into the trope funny if it's at least based on something from the text and it's just exaggerated For The Bit yeah). However I do think the strangest thing was linking misogyny and Mine (I made a post rambling about it but deleted it like. .3 seconds later) because nothing he does in either Y3 nor RGGO is explicitly misogynistic? In the slightest? And as we talked about before he's considerably pretty respectful towards women? Again, he surely did slap a little girl, but it wasn't because she was a girl you know (still cringe to do but if we're gonna talk about it let's do it right please and thank you). As you say though, pushing that trope onto Mine just feels like perpetuating the harmful stereotype that gay men hate women, and in cases like that then I can't really take the piss out of it without having a weird taste in my mouth.

[daughterhouse]

megumi struggles to say 'i love you' sometimes—but he knows it's an important thing to hear and he does love you—so he shows you his love instead.

in the way megumi meets you after each of your classes just so he can walk you to your next one, pinkie finger intertwined with his as you walk. even if it means running late to his own classes, he wouldn't give up those few extra moments with you for anything.

in the way megumi dotes on you after being sent out on a mission, even if you didn't get a single scratch. he's making sure you eat, stay hydrated, and will probably drag you to shoko if you even complain of a small headache. he worries about you incessantly—sometimes you think his love language is overthinking!

in the way megumi entertains your fantasies. talking about what the two of you will do once you leave school. he will play with your fingers as you babble on and on about the places you want to go with him, the types of people you'd like to meet together, the things you want to experience with him at your side. you both know that life as a sorcerer can be unpredictable, so he takes note of every last thing you want to do with him, and makes as many plans as possible!

in the way megumi kisses you randomly. they don't even have to be full kisses. sometimes when you're walking together, he will pull your hand up and brush his lips over your knuckles—small signs of affection like that. even if he gets grumpy when you acknowledge how soft he is on you.

and lastly, in the way megumi says it every time you sleep together. whether you're spending the night in his room, or you're napping together after a long mission—once he thinks you're fast asleep, he will press a gentle kiss to your hairline and say it softly; 'i love you'.

though he knows you're never really sleeping, not with how your lips twitch upwards each and every time.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Summoning Failed Successfully

Imagine a warehouse. Imagine a bunch of cultists in dark robes with all the candles, daggers, ancient books, and chanting. Now add Danny.

Only not as the summoned being, no. As a sacrifice.

He is sitting down, tied to a chair, in the middle of the summoning circle, looking as bored and deadpan as he can possibly be. The cultists are chanting, and he frowns, listening to their chants for a moment.

"Hey, is that Latin?" He questions, but to no avail, "You know you're not actually using those words correctly, right?"

"Keep quiet, child!" One of the cultists snaps. Danny leans back in his chair and shrugs.

"I'm just saying, you ain't summoning shit with wrong grammar," he huffs, seemingly absolutely nonchalant about the whole thing. Oracle, who is watching the whole ordeal through the surveillance cameras, raises her eyebrows. Red Robin and Robin are already en route to the building the cultists chose for their extracurricular activities, but now she almost wants to watch this a bit longer.

Gothamites are pretty used to all kinds of shitshows, but this boy is from out of town. She checked him through facial recognition. Daniel Fenton, a transfer student from Amity Park, Illinois.

A few more cultists stop chanting and turn to Danny.

"Do you know Latin?" One of them asks, and the boy makes a half-nod, making a thoughtful face.

"Not fluently, but, like, it's a dead language, I felt kinda obligated to learn it. Just for the meme, you know?" He chuckles.

The cultists, judging by their confused silence, don't know. Barbara doesn't know what he's talking about, either. But she is almost curious now, so she taps Robin's and RR's comm lines:

"RR, Robin, when you arrive, don't jump into the scene," she asks.

"Understood," Tim answers immediately, but Damian, of course, demands explanations:

"Is there an obstacle?"

"Not really," Barbara humms, "The sacrifice is in the process of de-escalating the situation."

She can almost hear the questioning silence over the comm, but, thankfully, no one argues. Meanwhile, one of the cultists pipes up, voice full of doubt:

"So, you can... like, proofread our incantation?"

"Yeah, sure," Danny nods, apparently fine with being sacrificed, "Who you're trying to summon anyway?"

"Satan," that same cultist answers, and Danny laughs approvingly.

"Classic," he nods and smiles, "I'll give you this. The circle is mostly alright, so you don't need an incantation to summon the fucker, I have him on speed dial." And with that, he leans forward, screaming towards the floor: "Ey, Satan!"

Barbara must say the act was actually convincing, but he went a little overboard with it now. She reaches to tell both Robins to get in, but suddenly, a loud, booming voice reverberates through the building.

"The fuck do you want, kid?"

Cultists fall to their knees - it doesn't seem like an act of worship, more like their knees bucking. The whole circle dimly lights up in red, smoke raising from it.

"Do you see this shit, Oracle?" Red Robin questions, and she mhm's at him, not sure what else to say. If this is still an act or a trick, she must say it's a very good one. Although somehow she suspects it's not a trick. She's seen enough magic in her life to tell the difference.

"Do you want to come to Earth, be gay and do crimes?" Danny asks, almost mockingly.

"Fuck off."

The red light flickers and disappears, and Danny looks back up to cultists, grinning cheerfully.

"Welp, looks like he doesn't wanna," the kid concludes and stands up from his chair. Barbara hadn't seen when or how he got out of his bindings.

The cultists just watch him walk out of the circle in bewilderment.

"Pursue?" Robin's voice comes over the comms, and Barbara thinks for a moment.

"I get a feeling like that's a bad idea," Tim mutters over his line.

Barbara agrees.

[monstersflashlight]

Day 2. Monster-kinktober: Artificial intelligence + Handjobs/Temperature play

A/N: This is a prequel piece of this one that nobody asked for but I wanted to write. Also, I took handjob in the literal way, so we have fingering as handjob here. Enjoy!

Robot x fem!reader || dirty talk (kinda), fingering, temperature play, semi-public sex (technically)

When you started working in the factory, you were mesmerized by the robots. You were the only human in your floor and thought they would be more… mechanical. But they weren’t. They looked very much robot-like, but they were great at conversation. They were nice in a very human way, and that only made them even more appealing for you. They were interesting, and weird looking, and a bit androgynous in the best way possible. So nobody would blame you when you say you fell in love with one of them.

It all started in a slow Wednesday afternoon. You had a couple hours until the end of your shift but there wasn’t much to do, so you were just filling some paperwork and trying to look busy without being too obvious about the fact that you were only moving papers around. And then someone knocked on the door of your office. You thought it would be one of the humans of other floors, looking for something and being too stupid to ask the robots. Some humans didn’t like the fact that the company was mainly robot oriented.

But it wasn’t a human. It was your favorite robot looking as weird and mechanic as always, and making your pulse skip a beat as he showed his silver bald head. “Hi! What can I do for you?” You asked cheerfully.

“I have a question,” he said in his monotonous tone, eyes unblinking. At first it was unsettling that they didn’t blink, but you got used to it and now it was a bit exhilarating to be the focus of attention of a robot, they didn’t miss a single movement you did and that called to you in a weird way.

“Okay. What kind of question?” You questioned, looking at him in the most professional way you could muster, but probably failing because he was robotically hot. In a way that made your pussy a little bit wet every time you talked to him.

He didn’t wait more than two seconds before shooting at you: “Do humans like robots?”

“Wow, that’s a big question right there.” You thought about it for a few seconds, trying to organize your thoughts to explain human-supremacy groups to a robot. “Some humans like robots just fine, but other humans think they are inferior to humanity so they…”

He cut you. “No, no. I understand that, I mean if humans like like robots,” he clarified.

And for a moment you were speechless, was he really asking if human and robots could have some kind of romantic or sexual connection? Was that even a possibility? You’d thought about it (a lot), but you never knew robots could feel that way about humans, you weren’t even sure they felt. You knew artificial intelligence was great nowadays, but you weren’t sure and thought it would be rude to ask. Good luck they weren’t scared to ask anything and were always truthful.

“Oh. Oh. I don’t know… Yeah, I guess so. Why not?” You answered, trying to sound neutral about it.

He looked at you for a few more seconds before asking: “Do you like robots? Do you like me?” He caught you completely unprepared for that question.

“What?” You squealed.

“I like you.” You just discovered they could like humans, and your brain was trying to process a thousand little movements and interactions at the same time, trying to figure out if he meant what you thought he meant.

“What do you like about me?” You asked, still confused about what was happening. Was your robot crush really telling you he wanted to have his way with you, too? That wasn’t possible, was it?

“You treat me like an equal, and you are always nice to all robots. Also you look squeeze and I want to touch you.” You choked on a laugh at that part. “Do you like me?” He repeated.

You thought about it for half a second, thinking about the naughty fantasies you had all alone in your house. You thought about all the extra time you spent in his area just to chat with him for a bit. You did have a crush on him. “Yes,” you finally let out, a spark of hope inside your chest.

“Good,” he accepted, his head bobbing up and down in a very non-human way that made you want to smile. “Are you my girlfriend now?” He said, making you giggle.

“Aren’t you going to take me out first?” You joked.

He looked panicked for a second. “Yes. Yes. Human records said we need to go to dinner and to the movies. But I don’t eat, and I’m not allowed into cinemas. But we can skip that and do the fucking, that’s third date as the internet explained,” he deadpanned, making you choke on air and start coughing really hard.

“We can do what?” You choked out, eyes as big as plates as you looked at him.

“The fucking. The internet said human partners used their genitals together to get pleasure. I don’t have genitals, but I can create some,” he explained in his toneless voice, making it sound serious and ridiculous at the same time. He continued: “different shapes, different colors, they can attach. I have them on my desk. I’ll bring them. Wait here,” he ordered.

“Wait!” But he was already gone.

He came back a couple minutes late, carrying a big box full of various dicks of different colors, shapes and even textures. You were looking into the box trying to decipher when your life became so surreal and how did your boring Wednesday end up with a robot boyfriend and a box full of attachable dildos.

“We can try them now,” he announced, reaching to grab one when you stopped him.

“No! We are working.”

“But I want to touch you and I have no job right now. You don’t either. You’ve been moving papers around all day.” You didn’t even have time to process the fact that he was aware of your every moment before he was talking again. “Let me touch you, please.” His voice sounded mechanical and had zero tone to it, but at the same time it sounded like a plea and you found yourself accepting with a soft “okay”.

He approached you and lowered his bald robot head until he was a couple centimeters away from your face, he stared without blinking until you looked away, red blush covering your cheeks. “I like that you can change colors,” he said, making you smile. “Can I see your tits? The internet said human women liked them played with.” His change of behaviour from cute to horny robot made you want to laugh maniacally.

“Some human women do, some don’t,” you explained.

“Do you? Do you like your boobs being played with?” He asked, his head tilted to the side in a very puppy-like gesture that made your heart skip a beat. He was looking at your covered boobs like they held the answers to all his questions. He reached for your buttons and you didn’t stop him.

“Ye- yes,” you stuttered, suddenly nervous as he unbuttoned your shirt and stared at your lacy bra. He lowered it down, exposing your tits to the cold air of the office and making your body shiver.

“Why are they hard?” He asked at the same time he pinched one of your nipples with a bit too much force. You let out a gasp and he released it, just to do it again. You liked that he was playful, it was refreshing.

“It’s cold and they are sensitive,” you let out between heavy breaths.

“They turn hard when cold?” You nodded, and then cried out when his fingers suddenly became as cold as ice as he rubbed your nipples with them, making your back arch on your chair. “Oh. And what happens if it’s hot?” He asked as you felt his hands became scalding hot and you cried out again.

He did it a couple more times, pinching and rubbing and making you lose your mind with just his fingers. You were almost at the edge of a good orgasm when his hands traveled down, popping the button of your pants and rubbing your covered mound.

“The internet said this was the best place to give pleasure. Is that true?” He asked, his hand slipped lower, rubbing over your dripping center. You nodded frantically, grabbing onto the sides of the chair like your life depended on it. “It’s wet and soft,” he noted. You flushed redder, your face flaming hot as he explored the inside of your pants. He pushed your panties to the side and touched right over your aching pussy, making you cry out again, your eyes rolling back into your head. “Do you like that?” You nodded, your teeth biting down on your lips so hard you tasted blood.

He rubbed up and down your pussy for a while, not doing anything crazy, just two fingers collecting your wetness and exploring your most vulnerable place. He hummed every once in a while, looking at you unblinkingly as you squirmed on the seat. And then he found your clit, his fingers rubbing over it with such precision you saw starts and had to cover your mouth.

“I wonder what happens if I apply cold here,” he said out loud as you felt his fingers turning ice cold and your body shivered, more juices dripping from your pussy.

He turned his fingers scorching hot, rubbing your clit, and then cold when he rubbed them over your entrance. You were on edge, but he wasn’t even trying to get you off. You were desperate, wanting to do something, to come, but you wanted to let him explore you some more… It was exhilarating to have him pay such attention to you.

And then he surprised you pushing two fingers inside as he rubbed his thumb over your clit. The combination making your body jerk as he gave you the robot equivalent of a smirk, which looked like a weirdly creepy grin that made your pulse race and your pussy wetter. He crocked his fingers and found your G-spot, faster than any human ever had, and you screamed under your palm. He looked at you and did it again, rubbing your clit and sweet spot at the same time. Your orgasm was so close you could feel it at the tip of your consciousness, but he stopped then. Just for a few seconds, but enough to make you release your hold on the chair and grab his bald metallic head.

“Make me cum,” you pleaded.

He didn’t answer, he just grabbed one of your boobs with his free hand and started rubbing ice cold fingers over your nipple. At the same time the hand in your pants got hotter and hotter, almost too hot, but so, so good. He thrust inside of you a couple times, his thumb rubbing over your clit… and that was it. You screamed as your back arched and your body fell into the most intense orgasm of your life as he stared at your contorted face.

You were coming down from the high when he said: “I liked that. Next time we should try the dildos,” he stated, voice monotonous.

“Yeah… Whatever you want,” you told him, too tired to argue, and too excited to try.

[saetoru]

AGE IS NOTHING BUT A NUMBER — GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day two — overstimulation ; find masterlist here

synopsis. befriending nanako and mimiko has its perks—like fucking their father, for example. suguru might have aged over the years, but that doesn't mean he's lost his touch. don't believe him? that's okay—he can always just show you instead

length. 5.3k words (bro this fic was agonizing)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, dilf! suguru, college au (reader is a student), age gaps (20+ difference), jealous suguru, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, angel)

notes. this took me so long bc i hate it so im posting it and running away to play genshin to slave away for primos

most people can tell their best friends everything. not you, though—you have a secret. a dirty, shameful, horrible little secret, in fact.

no one knows that every chance you get, every small little moment you can possibly squeeze in, you fuck your two best friends’ father—and it’s going to stay that way, unknown and forever hidden. suguru is young as far as parents go, just barely in his twenties when he’s found himself a single father of two, but that doesn’t mean he’s not too old for you. and it especially doesn’t mean that it’s not inappropriate to fuck the man that raised your two closest friends.

you meet nanako and mimiko during your freshman year of college—the rest is history. the first time you spend the night at their place, suguru (he insists you call him that on your first meeting) is overjoyed that his girls have someone as lovely as you.

who wouldn’t be? you’re smart, well-mannered, respectable, and incredibly studious. what a perfect role model for his girls—after all, every father’s worst nightmare is his sweet, precious daughters venturing off to the real world. men are dogs—suguru should know. they’re sleazy and prey on young women who are naive and unsuspecting, taking advantage of their hopefulness before completely destroying their innocence. suguru can’t bear the idea of his perfect little girls becoming victims of such sinister behavior—but that’s all quelled when he meets you.

but he never thought, not even for one second, that he’d become one of those men.

those older men who fuck girls half their age—the girls that are barely in their twenties and still don’t even really understand how taxes work. the girls that have just started to learn how to hold their alcohol and can only recently buy it legally. the girls who don’t realize how complicated adulthood can be, just barely spreading their wings and learning what it’s like to be free.

suguru has always found those men deplorable. they’re the awful, disgusting, untamed vermin of society—women must be protected from them at all costs.

but now? well….now he’s one of them—and he finds, even as disgusted with himself as he is from time to time, he has little regrets.

not when you’re sprawled under him, hands tracing over his bare chest, feeling the soft skin under your palms in wonder. suguru, though he’s not let himself go by any means, is past his prime—he still frequents the gym, and he has more time to go now that the girls are gone most of the day, but he’s not immune to the effects of aging.

his hair has more than a few strands of white sprinkled in now; nanako makes sure to remind him not to pull them out unless he wants more. he’s still managed to keep the abs he was once so proud of in his youth, but they’re still not as hard—layered over a slight belly that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter what he tries. his skin is a bit looser, and his eyes have slight wrinkles in the corners of them, but despite it all, suguru still looks as handsome as ever.

he’s aged well, still looks remarkably young for men his age, and still looks like that dashing young man he once was who stole hearts. in fact, he still hears about his looks, especially from nanako and mimiko’s friends—he’s always chuckled to himself and shook his head in amusement.

that’s your dad? god, he’s so hot.

what? he’s single? oh my gosh, do you need a mom?

i can’t believe he’s never been married—women in his generation don’t deserve him. i’ll take him off their hands.

wait, do you have pictures of him when he was younger?

oh my god, he’s so fine. are you sure he’s in his forties?

nanako and mimiko, bless their hearts, have always crinkled their noses at the…less than proper comments they’ve had to witness about their father. in fact, they’ve watched teachers practically throw themselves onto suguru at parent-teacher conferences. it’s bothersome—a little disturbing to hear their friends talk about all the things they’d let their dad, of all people, do to them.

but you? you don’t make unhinged comments. they appreciate that.

but if only they knew…

if only they knew that sometimes, like right now, when you’re spending the night, you don’t actually sleep—instead, you sneak off to their father’s room, lay on his mattress under his body, and feel his touch. you can feel him, hard and throbbing in his sweats as his clothed cock presses against your thigh—but he takes his time with you, and doesn’t do anything about the clear arousal pooling between your legs just yet. 

instead, he focuses on remembering your body—it’s been a while, after all. he hasn’t felt your hips, hasn’t tasted your skin, hasn’t heard your voice. 

“missed you,” suguru breathes, hovering over you as you hum, nipping at your skin as his nose brushes along your neck. your hand is playing with his hair, twisting long, black and white strands along your fingers. “haven’t seen you in a bit, angel.”

“i’ve had midterms,” you murmur.

suguru knows—nanako and mimiko have been studying for them themselves. he’s more than a little disappointed that you haven’t come over to study with them yet. but then, just the other night, mimiko mentions you’ve been spending your time with a boy at the library, sharing a table as you lean over his shoulder to look at his laptop. nanako giggles that you might have finally gotten yourself a boyfriend. mimiko hums and nods as she murmurs it’s about time.

suguru swallows down every bite of dinner with an aftertaste of bile that night.

a boy—a boy? you’ve been skipping coming over to study with the girls (and, by default, seeing him) just to study with some boy? what’s got your attention on the guy so badly? why would you break the routine you’ve had for the last few semesters for someone you just recently met? have you finally started to realize that this is a mistake? is suguru a mistake?

he thinks maybe not, now that you’re back in his bed—but he still has too many unanswered questions. 

“so i’ve heard,” he says lowly, “i’ve also heard there’s a certain boy on your radar.” he smiles bitterly, pulling away from your neck to stare at you with those dark, sharp eyes of his. “a much younger, and fitting match for you, i suppose.”

you roll your eyes, snorting.

“is that what nanako and mimiko have told you? honestly, those two,” you huff fondly, “i told them already. he’s just my partner for a presentation. we’re practicing.”

“oh?” suguru raises a brow—and then he shivers lightly when you lean up and kiss his jaw, eyes fluttering shut at your touch.

“yes,” you giggle, “no need to be jealous of someone half your age, you know.”

“that’s exactly why i’m jealous,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss you softly.

your lips taste like honey—probably sweeter, in fact. they drip with that decadent, saccharine taste of youth. he feels twenty again every time he kisses you, feels not a day older than his glory days.

“oh, you poor thing,” you grin, cupping his face as you scatter kisses along his cheeks and nose, thumb tracing the skin. fuck, is this what it feels like to be in love? it makes him feel so young, so free, and hopeful for the future. when was the last time he felt this way? “have you been losing sleep over my nonexistent college boyfriend?”

“well, kids your age fool around quite a bit,” he says in that father tone that he uses on nanako and mimiko, “what was i supposed to think?”

you’ve heard that tone so many times before; the one where he talks like he knows better, like he’s wiser, like he’s aware of something you’re not. 

girls, make sure you share your location with me—i need to find you in case anything happens. it’s for your own safety, end of discussion.

make sure you watch over your drinks, okay? men these days take every chance they get to spike them when you’re not looking. mimiko, i was your age once, too. i’ve seen this happen plenty.

don’t walk alone in the streets at night. call me. i’ll pick you up—no, nanako, it’s not lame. the streets are dangerous at night. there are creeps, you know.

don’t get into any boy’s cars, girls. you never know what’ll happen; one mistake is all it takes to ruin your life—hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. one day, you’ll understand i’m right.

“i’m not a kid,” you pout, and then, smugly this time, you wiggle your brows. “did’ya lose sleep over my imaginary boyfriend? you need plenty of sleep at your age, y’know.”

“no, you’re not a kid,” suguru agrees, “you’re a brat.” and then he’s back to pressing those hot, open-mouthed, hungry kisses along your jaw, humming in delight when you angle your head to give him better access. 

sometimes, it’s fun to get under suguru’s skin—it’s fun to break that carefully built, mature patience of his, pulling a twitch of his eye and a furrow of his brow from him. so, you grin widely as you murmur, “who knows? maybe he’d fuck better—more stamina, y’know?”

it’s supposed to just tease him, to make him glare at you unimpressed so you can giggle and kiss between his brows—but suguru stills at that, painfully stiff for a moment before he bites at your skin. hard. 

“oh yeah?” he hisses, his voice low and dangerous as he pulls away to glare down at you, “you think so? what, you think an old man like me can’t fuck you long enough?”

you don’t get a chance to reply—not before he pulls your pants down your waist to reveal your soaked panties, pulling a hum from him as he grins at the damp patch of fabric. his fingers circle over your clit for a moment, right over the cloth, making your breath hitch as you buck into his touch. 

“suguru—”

“look at that,” he chuckles, “wearing my favorite one, huh? can’t fuck you that bad if you try your best to impress me. isn’t that what you wanted? is that what you were thinking when you put these on before coming over? how precious,” he murmurs—he speaks so condescending, so knowingly, as if he’s read your mind just by looking at the red lace covering your dripping cunt. you cover your face in humiliation, but he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head, clicking his teeth in disapproval. 

part of you knows you should quit while you can—the other part? well…it wants to test the limits a bit longer. suguru has never been so easy to rile up, you want to indulge in it for just a bit longer if you can help it. 

“well,” you huff, “what’re you waiting for, then? don’t tell me the age has slowed you down—”

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he says in a low snarl, “fine, you want me to hurry up? you got it, princess.”

it all happens before you can even register—one moment, you’re grinning at him with mischief in your eyes; the next second, he has you in nothing but your bra, bare in his bed as he pulls your legs apart and leans close to your pussy.

“you know the thing about guys your age,” he hums, toying with your clit lazily as you gasp with a twitch, “is that they really don’t know how to take care of anyone but themselves. guess they just don’t have enough experience to really figure it out.”

his lips latch onto your clit, sucking before he rolls his tongue over the sensitive bud as his fingers sink into your core, pushing past your folds and stretching you open. it’s slow—deliberately so, in fact. it makes your head spin, and your fingers curl into the bed sheets as you pant. 

“suguru, m-more—”

“don’t worry,” he coos, pulling away from you to grin up at your glossy eyes, “you’ll get plenty, baby. we’ll see if you’ve got the stamina. y’know, since you’re so young.”

his lips are back to wrap around your clit, fingers sinking and curling exactly where you’re most sensitive—suguru finds your sweet spots instantly the first time he has you sprawled under him. didn’t even take a moment of trial, just knew where to touch and kiss to have you unravel in his hold. that much still hasn’t changed—his fingertips press against the sensitive spot in the back of your walls, pulling pretty little whines from you as his tongue flicks over your clit. 

it’s always been a blessing that nanako and mimiko’s room is across the house—had they been closer, they might hear the mewl you let out as his fingers bully into you faster, unforgiving as they brush against your walls and build the ache up between your legs until it’s about to burst. 

“s-suguru, ‘m close, so, so close—”

“already?” he gasps, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your clit with a sly grin, “thought you had more in you than that, baby. so youthful—figured you’d last a bit longer.”

he’s mean about it—rubs it in your face some more that you’re so close so fast before he pulls his fingers away and doesn’t even give you the satisfaction of falling apart on his digits. it makes you sob, hips bucking up to chase the friction of his fingers, but he’s already gone, leaving your walls empty and fluttering around nothing.

“no,” your voice breaks, “n-no, so close, please. i want—”

“that’s what he would’ve done,” suguru hums, “pulled out before you even finished. that’s what guys your age always do—they don’t know how to make girls finish. you ever had that problem with me?”

“no,” you say quickly, shaking your head. you’re a pretty little thing, he thinks—pouty, wobbly lips and those glossy eyes as you sniffle. “no, you always make me cum—please, i wanna cum, sugu.”

“yeah?” he pouts with faux sympathy, “didn’t feel good, huh? feels better when i take care of you, doesn’t it?”

“uh huh,” you nod—you’re still panting through the aftershocks of having your orgasm ripped from you, chest rising and falling harsh enough that it fills him with pride he can pull such drastic reactions from you. no one knows your body like suguru—he’s too good at giving it what it wants for anyone else to compare. 

“think that boy—” he spits the last word like it’s poison on his tongue, “—can take care of you?”

“no,” you whimper, “no, he can’t. not like you, never like you.”

“that’s a good girl,” he nods approvingly, rubbing his slick-coated finger over your clit, toying with it teasingly as you writhe, whining for more. “you know something else about men your age? they don’t care to please a woman—don’t bother to appreciate them enough to make them feel good. you think that boy would be here—” he pauses to motion between your legs, where he’s currently situated, “—willingly? taste you willingly? let you cum on his tongue willingly?”

“i-i don’t…i never asked someone to—”

“did you ever ask me?” he interrupts, raising a brow at you, “you ever have to ask me? i just do it. wanna know why? because i know what i’m doing—know how to treat you right, how to give you what you need. isn’t that right?” 

“yes, yes—you always give me what i want—”

“what you need,” he corrects, “and you know what i think you need right now? this.”

his tongue licks a stripe along your entrances before you can say anything else, pulling a gasp out of you as your hands find his hair and tug—suguru groans at that, feels his pants get impossibly tighter as the aching erection he sports throbs between his legs at the way you pull at the strands so desperately, so needy. for him. only ever him. 

his tongue fucks into you, messy with the way he devours you, the slick arousal pooling from your cunt coating his lips, his cheeks, his chin. you moan—and really, it’s almost a squeal—when his fingers are sinking back into you, tongue flicking away at your clit mercilessly as he thrusts his digits in and out of your pussy. you’re close, painfully so, the pressure steadily building and building until you just can’t hold it back anymore. 

“sugu—’m c-cumming. god ‘s so good—feels good,” you babble, thighs closing around his head as his fingers curl into your sweet spot over and over again, not stopping for even a second as he helps you ride out your high. your walls spasm around his fingers, tight as they flutter around him and make him groan at the thought of being inside you. 

he watches, hungry and in awe, as your back arches off the mattress and your mouth parts, broken little wails of his name rolling off your tongue in a sweet melody. 

“i bet he’s never seen someone look like this,” suguru murmurs, watching the way the ecstasy takes over your features as your face falls slack from pleasure, “so pretty when falling apart. bet he’d never even get close to making you look so fucked from just his tongue.”

your orgasm ripples through you—it’s not new, the way he makes you feel so good, but it’s definitely nothing to get used to either. your body slumps back onto the mattress as you finish, panting harshly while he climbs up to hover over you once again. 

“that felt good?” he asks, nosing at your cheek as you nod breathlessly.

“yeah,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“hope you’re not tired out just yet,” he says smugly, eyeing the way sweat clings to your forehead and huffs of air exhale from your lungs with each labored breath, “because we’re nowhere near done, baby. not even close.”

just like that, your bra is unclasped and pulled off, freeing your tits for his mouth to latch onto a nipple, sucking and lightly grazing his teeth along the bud while his fingers tease at the other, pinching and rubbing over it with his thumb. you whine, eyes squeezing shut as your hand cups the back of his head and keeps him in place. 

“bet i could make you cum just from this,” he says with a laugh, “i don’t even need to fuck you.”

“please,” you dig your nails into his shoulder, moaning as he switches to wrap his lips around the other nipple, “please, sugu—n-need more.”

“be more specific,” he says lowly, looking up at you in amusement, “gonna need more than that, princess. you gotta help me out here—i’m afraid i don’t know what i’m doing.”

suguru is doing everything he can to drag this out—if you’d known one small comment would have him riled up like this…well, truthfully, you can’t say you wouldn’t have made it anyway. it’s exciting in its own right when he’s so determined to show you why you need him, why no one else but him is meant to see you like this, make you fall apart like this, have you sprawled under them like this. 

no one can know about you and suguru—not nanako and mimiko, not your other friends, not your family. you know what they’d say, how they’d feel. 

disgust—shame, even. he’s far too old for you, you know they’d say; he’s a red flag for getting with someone so young. no one can know that you come here, dead in the middle of the night when your friends are asleep, and fuck their father. not only that—lay with their father, talk about your hopes and dreams for the future with their father, giggle as you gossip with their father, fall in love with their father. 

something tells you the feeling is not unreciprocated—that suguru feels the same, that he loves holding you in his arms just as much as you love laying in them. maybe it wasn’t a joke, what you’d said. not to him, at least—maybe deep down, it stung; maybe he had something to prove. that boy might be closer to you in age, but he’ll never, ever treat you the way suguru does—no one will, for that matter. perhaps he has to show it so you really know. 

so you look him in the eye, pull him closer until his forehead is pressed against yours and you can press a delicate kiss to his lips before you murmur against them, “fuck me, suguru. please—need you.”

he groans at that, closes his eyes before his hips move to press the thick tip of his cock against your folds, dragging it along your entrance as he coats his head with your slick. it’s flushed a deep pink—it’s been neglected for so long that he shudders at the way it aches, at the way even the slightest friction along the sensitive tip pulls a soft gasp from him. 

for a moment, he wonders if he really will last long enough to fuck you properly—he might not, with the way your walls always squeeze around him, always have him ready to fuck his load into you just as soon as he’s inside you. the thought alone almost makes his cock twitch—but suguru is a man of patience, so he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch, looking down and watching as his girth disappears inside you. 

“look at that,” he coos, grinning wide as he looks back up at you, “took me so easily. ‘s cause when you do it right, it doesn’t take much, does it?”

“f-fuck—” your head presses back against the pillow, mouth hung open as you breathe heavily, trying to squirm and get even the slightest bit of friction from him as he stays painfully still. “move, suguru—please, c-can’t wait anymore. jus’ wanna feel you.”

“i know,” he chuckles, “patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”

despite it all, suguru is not feeling very patient anymore—it’s been long enough. his hips roll slowly at first, a shallow thrust of his hips that makes you both moan lowly before he all but pulls out and slams back in, hard. you can feel the burning stretch of his girth practically splitting you open, every thick vein dragging along your cunt and every brush of his tip against the back of your walls. it’s loud—the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sound of his deep groans and your breathless whines, the sound of the headboard hitting the wall as he fucks you into his mattress. 

“god—fuck, suguru—th-there,” you mewl as he slams into you right where you need him. 

you’ve lost count of how many times suguru has fucked you like you’re his. in his bed at night, in his shower in the mornings, on the couch when you drop by when the girls aren’t home, in his car that one time he drove you home when it rained, in your apartment that one time he dropped off your laptop because you forgot it. there’s one common denominator—the way he makes you feel, not just from the way his cock ruts into you, but from the way his fingers tangle with yours, from the way his mouth finds your jaw to kiss, from the way his forehead presses into your shoulder with warmth. 

it’s exciting, maybe. at first, it’s scandalous and a little thrilling in its own right. by now, it’s something much more than that—you don’t think anyone could make you feel the way he does, fuck you like he does, even if they tried. even if they knew where to touch and where to kiss. even if they knew what you liked and what you didn’t. 

they couldn’t be suguru—would never be suguru. 

“there, huh?” he pants, moaning softly as he feels your walls flutter around him tightly, “i know. i know how to fuck this pussy—my pussy. you think some boy you hardly know would know? think he’d care to learn? think he’d even try?”

“no,” you gasp, shaking your head as your hips buck up to meet his sharp thrusts, “no. no one would make me feel this good. make me feel so good, sugu.”

“ngh—sh-shit,” he hisses at your words, cock almost swelling harder at the way you praise him, at the way your words are almost slurred with no real thought behind him. it’s a little pride-inducing, the way you’re still able to sing his praises without having to really think about it first. he can hear it, the way you’re lost in the drag of his cock, drunk in the haze of pleasure, unfocused on everything else besides the way he bullies his thick girth into your abused cunt.

it’s a mess, it’s filthy the way there’s a mix of pre cum and your slick at the base of his cock, along your inner thighs, coating your skin as the squelching sound of him nudging past your folds fills the room.

it’s good, the way he makes you feel—he can hear it in your voice as you wail his name.

“s-suguru—oh.”

“what, you gettin’ all fucked out on me? ‘m not even close yet, princess,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck as he sucks softly into your sweet spot. you throw your head back, rasping out a cry of his name again as his balls slap against your ass with a harsh roll of his hips. 

and then his hand makes its way between your bodies, thumb attaching itself to your clit before rubbing punishing circles into the bundle of nerves—you sob at that, back arching up as your chest presses against his, nipples hard as they brush along his skin.

“s-sugu—close, ‘m gonna cum a-again—so close,” you pant brokenly, every sentence cut off with a sharp gasp as he thrusts into you. 

you’re close—you can’t fight back the way the coil in your belly snaps as he teases your clit. it’s still sensitive from the last orgasm, every nerve still burning up from before as he gives you more, gives you too much, almost. you cum harder this time—your second high creeping up on you when you least expect it. 

it makes your eyes roll back, makes your thighs quiver, and tears stream down your cheeks as you chant his name over and over. suguru, ‘s so good. suguru, ‘m cumming. suguru, ‘s all for you.

every sentence makes his cock drill into you faster, sloppier in rhythm, maybe, but faster. needier. bordering on desperate. 

“f-fuck, baby,” he grunts, “squeezin’ me so tight—such a tight fuckin’ cunt. you think just anyone deserves this? think you can just walk around and let anyone fuck this? ‘s bullshit—ngh.”

you don’t answer—can’t answer, in fact. it’s all teary eyes and soft sniffles as you mewl with every thrust, voice breaking between every pretty little sound you make. he’s still fucking into you, still dragging his cock against those sensitive walls, still bumping against your clit with his navel, still nudging against your sweet spot with his thick, swollen tip. it’s almost too much—it is too much, making you writhe under his body as you try to form the words. 

“‘s t-too much, sugu—c-can’t anymore,” you try, “can’t.”

“what?” he gasps, furrowing his brows in mock confusion, “you’re tappin’ out on me already? but ‘m not even done yet, sweetheart. haven’t even finished yet—don’t tell me you’re already spent. how will you keep up with your little boyfriend’s stamina if you can’t even take an old man like me?”

“c-can’t take anyone but you,” you sob, “jus’ you—only you. promise.”

“yeah? you swear?”

“uh huh. jus’ you, sugu—don’ want anyone else. won’t fuck me the same.”

“atta girl,” he coos, chuckling as he leans down to kiss your jaw, trailing soft pecks until he meets your lips, “that’s what i thought. make sure you don’t forget, okay?”

“fuck, suguru—’m…g-gonna…”

“gonna what? cum? you’re cumming again?” you nod at that—he grins wide, pride settling into the crinkles of his eyes before his thumb rubs harsh circles into your swollen clit once more. he looks pretty like that—hair framing his face, the mix of black and white strands sticking to the damp skin of his forehead. his skin is flushed, abs flexing as he pants over you. sometimes you feel guilty that half of why you come over to visit nanako and mimiko is to fuck suguru—the guilt is quickly extinguished when you see him like this, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his arms barely hold him over you, eyes shut tight as he groans. 

“i-i’m—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you can’t form sentences anymore as you cum—again. not that you really could before that, but now all you can offer is croaked half-syllables and shaky sobs. your walls squeeze around him, tight as they hug around his throbbing cock. 

it takes one, two, three more sloppy rolls of his hips before he lets out at a low, “baby, fuck—’m gonna fill you up. want that? want me to cum in you? make you mine? always been mine, haven’t you?”

“yes, yes—yours, sugu. yours, yours, yours,” you babble, words slurred between breathy moans and broken sobs. “wanna be yours.”

you can feel him—feel the way his cock twitches in you, the way he grinds into you to ride out his high, the way sticky, hot ropes of cum fill your walls, the way he fucks his load deeper into you with every sloppy thrust of his hips. his arms quiver as he holds himself over you—just barely, though. you can hear the way his voice cracks as he gasps your name over and over, as he mutters lowly about how you’re his, how you’ll always only be his. 

“mine,” he grits, “you’re fuckin’ mine—see how you’re suckin’ me in? see how i fit in this pussy like it was made for me? ‘s cause you’re mine.”

his body slumps onto yours as he finishes, head pressed into the crook of your neck as he kisses the skin while you both catch your breaths. you whimper, still sensitive, as he pulls out of you, a soft chuckle falling past his lips as he pulls his head up to look at you and press a kiss to your cheek. 

“so,” he starts, eyes laced with amusement as he takes in the fucked out look on your face, the tears still drying your cheeks, the swollen flush of your bottom lip, “still think you need someone with more stamina? someone who’ll fuck you better—”

“god,” you groan, slapping his shoulder, “will you drop it already? you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“no,” he murmurs, pecking your lips, “still wanna hear it some more.”

“your ego needs a reality check,” you huff as you brush a strand of hair from his forehead, “think i’ve fed it plenty all night.”

“actually, i think you crushed it,” he pouts theatrically, “talking about some asshole who doesn’t care about you right in front of me. after i take such good care of you, too. the girls already think you should date him,” he adds the last part with a slightly bitter roll of his eyes, pulling a giggle out of you.

“they think i don’t know how to talk to men,” you snort, “imagine they knew i was talking to men old enough to be my father.”

“hey,” he clicks his teeth, falling onto the mattress beside you—he pulls you into his chest, letting your cheek rest on his bare skin. it’s so wrong—lying in bed with the father of your best friends. but somehow, suguru feels like the only thing you’ve ever done right. “age is nothing but a number, sweetheart.”

if i have to see the word cock one more time im going to eradicate all humans that have them

do not comment about a part 2 !!!!!!!!!!

[lnfours]

you | l.n

summary: what’s more romantic: laying cuddled up next to the fireplace on christmas eve with the love of your life, or that special item in the little black box with a bow?

warnings: established relationship, mentions of sexual content, holiday vibes, and tooth rotting fluff.

message from jordan: hi everyone! here’s to the first christmas fic you’ll be receiving from me! don’t worry, focal point is still very much in production and will most likely have a chapter coming out later this week :) i hope you all enjoy!! sending you all my love, as always 🤍

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the orange and yellow flames kept the both of you warm as you laid with your head on his chest. his fingers absentmindedly drawing shapes into the soft skin of your bicep, your head resting on his chest as you found yourself listening to the sound of his beating heart.

the one that only beats for you.

your legs were intertwined with his, and you had found yourself tracing over the indents in his abdomen with your fingernails. silky soft and tanned skin littered with moles and freckles. the same ones you made sure you pressed kisses to every time you found yourself in their path. they littered his skin like stars in the night sky. and to you, they were just as beautiful. one of your favorite features of his.

his breath tickled your neck, smiling softly when he placed a kiss to the skin where your neck met your collarbone. you felt him pull you closer against him, leaving no gaps between you. not even enough space for air.

it was the little moments like these that you cherished the most, the ones you held close to your heart. the ones you’d think of whenever someone would mention how well the two of you mesh together, that you’re the definition of his soulmate. his version of a nice, warm soup you crave on a cold and windy winter day.

simply enough, you were each other’s soul healing medicine.

“missed you,” he mumbled against the crook of your neck, “sorry i couldn’t help you bring your stuff over.”

he had told you to bring more things from your apartment to his house. and when you protested, he argued that you already had a side of the vanity in the bathroom filled with your makeup, skincare and any other possible hygiene products you could think of. you had even taken over a side of his closet.

and maybe a drawer or two of his dresser that you hadn’t told him about. instead, while in search of a pair of socks, he had found a couple pairs of your pajamas in the drawer.

the simple fact that you had been leaving your things behind whenever you’d go back to your apartment for a couple days was like little reminders to him. reminders that you’d be back in a few days time, that it wasn’t a temporary situation to you. this was real. and you were all in, just like him.

“‘s okay, max was here to help,” you said, “sorry i took over one of your shelves. i wanted to bring some books,”

he shook his head, “don’t be sorry, i like your stuff being here. makes it feel more like home.”

you smiled, tilting your head to meet the pair of blueish-green eyes you had fallen head first in love with. the ones you had seen one night out in london, the ones that you had been mesmerized by ever since.

he tapped on your arm lightly, a silent signal that he was going to move. you untangled yourself from him with a soft frown, not really wanting to reposition yourself beings the previous state had been far more comfortable. you sat up as he did, watching as he kneeled towards the tree, picking up various packages and looking at them before putting them back down. it was like he was looking for one in particular.

“what’re you doing?”

“looking for something,” he said softly, “i can’t remember where i put it- oh here it is.”

you furrowed your eyebrows when he turned around with a small little box in his hand. a black box with a white bow on the top, too neatly done to have been done by him. you squinted at him, taking it cautiously.

“it’s not christmas yet,” you questioned his actions.

“i know, but i’ve been trying to decide if i wanted to give it to you early,” he said, “but i think now is the perfect time. besides the fact that i’m impatient.”

you chuckled softly, undoing the bow on top and playfully tossing it his way. his reflexes allowed him to catch it, placing it down on the floor next to him. he took the time to take in your figure, how pretty you looked in the dim light of the christmas tree and city lights shining in through the windows. how his tshirt had ended up around your frame, hair slightly messy.

to him, you were the most perfect person in the world. the only person he envisioned a life with, who he wanted to come home to at the end of the day. the only one who understood him better than he knew himself. he thanked every god possible and counted every lucky star for the night in london that had changed his life.

“i swear, if something pops out at me, so help me god,”

he laughed, “nothings gonna pop out at you, baby. promise.”

you squinted, narrowing your eyes towards him as a sign that you didn’t necessarily believe him. you lifted the lid of the box with slight caution, and when it was clear that he was telling the truth about there being no surprises, you fully opened it. however, the gift inside the box raised more questions.

“a key?” you lifted your head, letting your eyes meet his as you held it up, “to what?”

“our home.”

you blinked at him, speechless for a moment as he smirked at you.

“wait, what-?”

“move in with me,” he said, “i’ve been thinking about it, for a while now actually, and you’re the person i want to have a life with. i want to come home and find you on the couch watching tv or dancing along to the music playing in the kitchen while you’re cooking dinner. youre the one i want to wake up next to every morning, the one i want to say goodnight to every night before i fall asleep. it’s you, not anyone else,”

you fought the tears welling up in your eyes from his sweet words as he continued, “and i love the fact that every single one of your things has a spot next to mine. i want this crazy little life that we have forever, so this is my way of asking if you’ll move in with me.”

you bit on your bottom lip as you smiled, “i mean, i don’t really go to my apartment anymore anyway, so-“

he didn’t let you finish before he was pulling on your arms to bring you closer to him, making you squeal as you landed on top of him on the floor. you giggled when he pressed his lips to yours, kissing him back. the kiss only breaking when your smiles got to be too wide.

“i love you,” he mumbled against your lips, “more than anything.”

you hummed, “i’ll always love you more, though.”

warmth spread for your chest at the idea of taking your relationship one step forward. you had known for a while that he was the one you wanted to do everything with, but knowing he was on the exact same page as you was a feeling like no other. a state of euphoria. one that made you feel giddy inside, like you were back in high school with a crush all over again. the same kind of exciting feeling that you prayed never died.

and as long as he was yours and you were his, that was never going to go away.

he flipped the two of you over so he was back to hovering over you on the floor, the same position the two of you had been in earlier in the night. you played with the hairs on the back of his neck absentmindedly as you spoke.

“even though it’s not a new home, does this count enough that we get to christen every surface of this apartment?”

he laughed softly, nose bumping against yours, fingers lightly tracing into the skin of your waist underneath your shirt, his lips brushing against yours sending shivers down your spine. the kind only he could cause.

“do we even have any spots left?”

“oh i’ve got a mental list, don’t worry.” you smiled as his head fell to your collarbone. the sound of his giggle echoing through the room, causing you to laugh too.

your eternal happy place.

“then, what’re we waiting for?”

“i like the way you think, pretty boy.”

[fallingforyouforeverr]

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐭 | 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

summary: lando begins to panic when you don't want to cuddle with him

author's note: it's really hot rn where I live so i just wanted to write a cute little blurb inspired by my own suffering. vote here for who i write my next fic about!

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Lando was confused. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, and you didn't seem to be upset with him until now, so he couldn't possibly understand why you were refusing to cuddle with him.

It started off as most of your evenings did. After dinner, he washed the dishes while you dried and put them away, then you both moved into the living room to watch some tv before bed. Only, when Lando tried to pull you closer, you pushed his arm off you, moving away and leaving your boyfriend staring at you like a kicked puppy.

You didn't seem to think anything of it, settling back down on the other side of the sofa and pressing play on your favourite show. However, Lando was still frozen, mind reeling from your rejection. He wondered if you were ignoring him because you were mad or if it was just a mistake and you genuinely couldn't feel his eyes on you.

At last, the uncertainty became to much to bear and he decided to speak up. "Um...baby?" He asked tentatively, watching your face closely to see your reaction.

"Yeah?" You answered, glancing away from the screen.

Huh. That's weird. You didn't seem mad at all, and you obviously weren't ignoring him, so what was this about? Maybe you weren't feeling well suddenly?

"You feeling okay, sweetheart?"

Turning your body to face him, your equally as confused expression only eased his worries slightly. "Yeah, I'm alright. Why?"

Deciding it was probably best to be direct, Lando spoke again. "You pushed me away!"

You couldn't help but giggle at the adorable pout on his face, suddenly feeling bad for not explaining your behaviour earlier. "Lan, my love, I'm so sorry! I promise I'm not mad at you or anything, it's just because of the weather."

"The weather?" His expression changed, a slight frown settling into his brow as he waited for you to continue speaking.

"It's too hot," you explained. "It's my first summer in Monaco, I wasn't expecting it to be this warm. I didn't want to cuddle because I knew I would overheat."

Lando mentally slapped himself for not thinking of that as a possibility. He had lived here for a few years so he was used to the unrelenting sunshine by now, but you had only moved in with him recently so of course you weren't. He couldn't help but laugh at how much he was stressing over something so small.

"You idiot, making me panic like that!" The brunette scolded you playfully. You stared up at him innocently, batting your eyelashes with a smile.

Lando suddenly grabbed hold of your waist, and you shrieked loudly. You wriggled helplessly in his grasp, as he tickled you sides, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"I'll stop if you say sorry."

"Never," you gasped, swatting at his hands. He merely shrugged, tickling you harder.

"You sure?"

"Okay, okay, I-I'm sorry!" You managed between breathless pants.

Lando grinned cheekily at you, allowing you a moment to catch your breath before he leaned in to kiss you softly. You threw your arms around his neck tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. When you finally had to pull away for air, he rested his forehead against yours.

"I thought you were too hot," he teased, causing you to groan again and smack his shoulder. Lando pressed another quick kiss to your lips before continuing, "and for the record, I am definitely buying you like 20 fans tomorrow."