#i love how he smiles at the end he's so silly

[jamminvroomvroom]

get to work.

LN x leclerc!reader

a sequel of sorts to as sick as it sounds, i loved you first - part 1 - part 2

in which lando starts the life with you that he’s always wanted

hi! me again - obsessed with these two soooo much so best believe i had to write (and will continue to write) more for them! thank you so much for continuing to read my work, ilysm and also huuuuuge shoutout to my brainrot bestie @lavenderlando because i truly could not do any of this without her xoxox lemme know what you think, likes and reblogs are aaaalways so so appreciated!

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! this one is kinda filthy hehe. smut, fluff, highkey breeding kink, brief switch!lando and switch!r, unprotected p in v, general sex acts in silly places, charles still having it out for lando lmao, mentions of pregnancy/family planning

7.2k words

you stare up at him, breathless, awestruck, leaning further into his touch. he’s swaying you gently to the music, ignorant to all the eyes of your nearest and dearest family and friends. fairy lights cast a warm hue over his face, leaving him golden and sparkling, gleaming with his love for you.

lando’s still pristine, suit unwrinkled, dress shirt crisp, tie straight, not yet wrecked by the party that will undoubtedly overflow all around you both as the night progresses. your dress flows out around you, fanning out in intricate layers of sharp white lace. your newly acquired wedding bands feel foreign on your fingers, but perfect nonetheless. you’re more used to it than him, though, having hauled around the giant rock of an engagement ring he’d presented you with just a few months before.

martin had been called on to be a groomsman, but he’d vouched for the DJ who’s inviting the rest of the party to join you and your husband on the dance floor. people swirl all around you, blowing kisses, squeezing your arms affectionately, but lando can’t keep his eyes off of you.

your husband.

your husband your husband your husband.

it felt just as delicious to think of him with that title as it is to say it. you say it anyway.

“my husband.” you hum, content, pressing your head to his chest, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“my wife.” he coos down at you, pressing a lasting kiss to your hairline, cautious not to mess up your carefully crafted hair.

but it’s your wedding night, and you want to kiss him properly! you figure you’ve earned the right to kiss him anywhere, anytime, whenever, so you tilt your head back and drop his hands, pulling him down. his hands find your cheeks, cupping them ever so softly as your lips meet, loving and tender. you smile into it, and he mirrors you.

“can’t wait for everything.” you sigh, blissed out from the adoration rolling off of him in waves.

“everything?” he laughs, forehead resting on yours.

“life, with you. always.”

“i’ll give you everything you want, baby.” he promises.

you wholeheartedly believe him.

-

“better make this quick, norris.” you giggle, backing up towards the marble counter.

lando stalks towards you, grinning hungrily, and hoists you up onto the sink top, making sure not to damage your dress - not that it would be the first time he’d ruined a white dress of yours. wasn’t that how you’d both ended up here, anyway?

“sue me for wanting to fuck my wife, norris.” he mocks, mouthing at the skin of your neck. you flush. mrs norris.

“no marks.” you breathe, trying to convey a tone of warning, but it comes out needy and weak, and would have fallen on deaf ears regardless.

“but you’re all mine now, honey. forever.” lando murmurs against your jaw, and your head falls back to let him run ruin across your delicate skin. “want everyone to know it.”

you don’t protest again, spreading your legs as he ruches the material of your dress so that it bunches around your hips. his hand skates below the material, blindly feeling the satin and lace of your panties. he groans as he traces over a damp patch, sinking his teeth into the junction between your neck and your shoulder.

“soaked for me, baby. been wanting me? just had to ask.” he rambles, tugging your underwear to the side. “can have my cock whenever you want it, you know? it’s all yours.”

lando smears your wetness around with a swipe of his thumb, switching rapidly between messy circles around your clit and teasing dips into your cunt, shallow enough to make you squirm for more.

“just fuck me.” you pant, rutting your hips into his hand.

“the mouth on you, baby. filthy.” he scolds teasingly, but adheres, belt clinking and slacks dropping just enough to free himself.

he drags your hips even closer to the edge of the counter and you feel the warmth of him, hot and throbbing, ghosting over the seam of your pussy. you feel the tip of him press firmly against where you’re leaking, and a roll of his hips sheathes him deep into you smoothly.

“shit, we don’t have a condom.” his eyes fly open, finding yours. you just smirk up at him.

an earnest and vulnerable conversation in the weeks leading up to your wedding had you deciding to abandon your birth control, but you’d been using condoms ever since, not wanting any accidents in the run up to your nuptials.

“you said you wanted to get to work once we got married.” you clench around him for dramatic affect. your desire for flair makes sweat bead in his hairline. “so get to work.” you bite your lip, gazing up at him through lustful, hooded eyes.

“you’re gonna kill me, i swear.” he growls, finding a wild rhythm that makes you writhe into him.

slaps of skin echo through the bathroom, whines and cries of satisfaction and his name bouncing between the cream walls. he can’t take his eyes off of you, beautiful and spent beneath him, rutting your hips to meet his.

“i love you, lando, love you like this, mon amour.” you whimper, clinging to him. his shirt hangs wrinkled, tie loose and brushing against the skin of your chest that your dress doesn’t cover.

“i love you, too, baby. so fucking perfect for me.” lando groans, pressing a messy, open mouthed kiss to your lips. it’s all tongue and teeth, raw desire as you lick into each other. “you want me to put a baby in you already, huh? ready for me to fuck you nice and full and we’ve only be married, what, six hours?” he taunts.

“i want it, please.” you beg, softening your eyes and pouting your lips.

“my wife is such a needy slut for me, yeah, baby? gonna make me a daddy?”

a few more thrusts, and you’re undone, coating him as he stutters, fills you up. you pant into the intimate space between you both, satiated as you giggle, kiss him. you rake your hands through his sweat slicked locks, holding him close.

“we better get back.” he whispers.

“you’re dripping down my thigh.” you deadpan and he cackles, neck flexing as it does. you lick your lips subconsciously, anxious to mark the taut, tanned skin up when you have him all to yourself again.

“don’t worry, honey, i’ll clean it all up later.” he winks, and you slap his shoulder.

and when you’re curled into his side, cry laughing at max’s speech, recounting the unhinged DM you’d sent him once upon a time in qatar, you work overtime to keep your thighs clenched tight.

-

it’s 3am when you finally reach the villa, tucked away somewhere in sardinia, secluded and gorgeous. you creep around exploring while he drops your bags in the master suite, finding yourself on the back deck. from there, you can see the garden, green and ornate, bursting with flowers in shades of pinks and white. then, there’s the sea, waves crashing softly onto the white sand of your private beach. the privacy stretches on for miles in both directions, faint lights far away down the coastline.

you sigh, content, tears pricking your eyes. lando had picked this out, just for you, and his choices made it clear just how well he knows you. that’s how he finds you, wiping a stray tear, and he wraps you in his arms, his head perching on your shoulder. he breathes you in, and you feel him smile against the skin of your neck. open mouthed kisses are dotted over your shoulder and you relax fully into him, eyes fluttering shut.

“it’s so gorgeous, amour. thank you so much.” you whisper, turning your head and awaiting a kiss that quickly comes.

“don’t thank me, baby. this is the least you deserve.” he murmurs, resuming a soft suckle at your neck. you roll your eyes at his generosity. he’s so selfless sometimes that he forgets that he deserves this every bit as much as he thinks you do.

“can we go down to the shore? i’m too excited to sleep.” you giggle, and he hums into the hickey he’s leaving.

“course, honey. we have plenty of time to sleep.”

the plan was, after all, to eat, sleep, fuck, repeat. and swim, of course.

you walk down to the water hand in hand, taking your time through the gardens. he picks you a flower, tucks it sweetly behind your ear.

you ditch your shoes, sighing as your feet sink into the cool sand, damp from the push and pull of the waves. the stars are out, clear as day, and you play dot to dot, pointing out constellations to lando.

“do you have any idea how happy i am?” lando asks when you’re both sat in the sand. he pulls you into his side, your head tucking below his chin.

“if you’re as happy as i am then i’d guess pretty fucking happy.” you reply.

“the wedding was… god. i was kinda nervous about the whole event but as soon as i saw you walking down that aisle…” he trails off, scoffing in disbelief. “you’re a fucking angel.”

“i wasn’t even sure that charles was gonna let me go, you know?” you chuckle, gazing up into his watery eyes.

“i did have to pry him off.” lando laughs along with you, shaking his head.

“and then his speech.” you slap a hand over your mouth, stifling laughter. lando throws his head back in faux agony.

the speech in question had started with “to my sweet, dear baby sister and… lando”, and had ended with “and if you choose, for whatever reason, to make her unhappy, they will never find your body.”

“don’t think he’s ever gonna like me.” lando shrugs, tightening his arm around you, like someone might come and take you away.

“oh, shut up, he likes you! he just… likes to torture you more.” you grin cheekily up at him, and he can’t help but lean down and kiss you urgently.

“you are so beautiful.” he mumbles against your lips. “‘m so fucking in love with you.”

“je t’aime pour toujours.” you coo, licking into his mouth. i love you forever.

something urgent and guttural sounds from deep within him and you smooth your hands through his hair. he pulls away breathless, something wild in his eyes.

“we never talked about what happened in the bathroom.” lando rasps, eyes darkening.

“we got to work.” you smirk, echoing your previous words.

“but last time we spoke about it, you weren’t one hundred percent sure about the timing.” lando furrows his eyebrows, searching your face. your smirk relaxes into a smile, genuine with excitement.

“as soon as we said our vows, i knew i was ready. those things you said about family, about us having our own family… god, lando i would have let you have me right there at the alter.”

you are the light of my life. you make me happier than i ever thought i could be, and i will spend every day trying to make you feel the same way. from the moment i saw you, i was yours and i’ll stay yours until my last breath. my greatest joy so far is getting you call you my wife, and i can’t wait to call you the mother of my children. there’s no one else on this earth that i’d want to live my life with, raise a family with, come home to. you make me whole, baby.

safe to say, you’d said your own vows through a chorus of sobs.

“are you sure you’re ready?” lando whispers.

“i want a family with you, amour. let’s make one.” you raise an eyebrow, an invitation.

“i say we start right here.” lando beams, lunging towards you.

you fall back into the sand, laughing against his lips as he kisses you deeply, mouthing down your jaw. he wastes very little time, pulling at the strap of your camisole, licking over your bare flesh as he drags it down your arm.

“here? in the sand?”

“i said what i said.”

he peels off your top, nips at your bare chest as he pushes your sweats down, just enough to get his hand beneath your panties. you gasp wetly, eyes fluttering shut as he teases your folds with his fingers. he moans into the skin of your breast, hardening at the pooling wetness he’s discovered. a few calculated swipes of his fingers and he’s sinking them deep, your sweat pants restricting his movements. he adapts, rutting his fingers into you in a slow grind, thumb bumping your clit. your nipples peak, the ocean breeze and the cold sand under your back causing you to arch violently into him.

“you’re so wet for me, baby.” lando pants, before he closes his lips around your breast, swirling his tongue around your nipple. you’re sensitive, clenching around his fingers.

“want you inside of me.” you whine, bucking your hips to meet each grind of his digits.

“i am.” he flashes you a devilish grin, punctuating his words with a harder thrust.

“lando!” you growl, warning him.

“anything for my wife.”

he pulls his fingers out of you, the sound of the action obscene, and makes a show of sucking them clean while he strips himself bare. you huff, wriggling your sweats off so that you’re naked too, your thighs falling open on cue. he settles between them, brushing your hair out of your face as he settles on top of you.

you can feel him, throbbing and hot between your legs, small drops of him hitting your bare cunt. you keen into him, rolling your hips up to meet his.

“now, baby, please.” you beg.

“never get used to this, you know?” landos chest heaves as he pushes into you. “always feels as good as the first time.”

he sinks all the way in, taking note of every minuscule movement of your face. his breathing stutters at the warmth and wetness that envelops him whole, his tummy tight. you’re no better, lip caught between your teeth as you watch him hungrily.

“you remember our first time, baby? how good we were together, even then?” lando rasps, pulling out of you the tiniest bit, just to slam his hips right back against yours. it makes electricity shoot up your spine to the top of your head, leaving you hot all over.

“of course, amour, i think about it all the time.” you breathe, eyes rolling back as he sets his pace, slow yet so deliciously brutal.

“did you think then that we’d be doing this forever? that you’d be all mine, begging me to get you pregnant?” he teases, fingers digging into the plush of your hips.

“i used to think about it then, if we’d make it. knew we would. wanted you forever from the very first time.” you choke out, meaning it. “‘m so fucking happy lando.” you gasp, grabbing at every part of him that you can.

your hands smooth over his bronze skin, bound to get even richer from all of the sun kisses the rest of your honeymoon would bring. you zone out, honing in on the sound of the waves dancing against the shoreline, eyes staring up at the moon just behind his head. you can’t believe that you’re his, here, that this is real life and that you share a last name with a man that glows like the sun. a head of chocolate frosted curls obscures your vision, and you realise that you’re crying.

“baby? you with me?” lando draws you back to him, hips still.

“i’m here, ‘m sorry, it’s perfect. you’re so perfect.”

you pull him down, so desperate to taste him, moans muffled. your tears trail down his cheeks as well, so close and intertwined. he’s gentler now, pawing at your sides attentively, pulling your body along with his.

“gonna give you everything you want, pretty girl. my beautiful, beautiful girl.” lando coos.

“come with me.” you plead, nerve endings set alight by the overstimulating way his cock drags against your walls.

“you gonna take it all for me, mama?” and your vision goes white. he’s evil for that, playing you like a fool, but it makes you quiver around him, thighs shaking where they’re locked around his waist.

you chant his name, blasphemy, and words of absolute adoration as you let go, coating him in waves of your very own creation. he tries his best to ride through it, but one look at your twisted face, of your quaking body, and he’s dumb with pleasure, crashing down on top of you like a heated blanket.

the sun rises in the east when he carries you to bed, your eyes drooping as you loop your arms around his neck.

“get some sleep for me, angel. we have a baby to make.”

-

“do you ever wonder about trying new things?” lando asks, hand linked loosely with yours.

sea water rushes over your feet up to your ankles, the sun warming the skin of your backs as you stroll lazily along the coastline. it’s been three days of nothing but each other, a big, peaceful house and endless sunshine.

you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“lando, for the fourteenth fucking time, i promise i’ll play tarkov with you when we get home, but it’s just not really my thing-“ you whine, but his louder than life laugh cuts you off, slicing through the serenity of the beach.

“not what i meant, baby.” he chuckles, utterly fond of the way your face wrinkles with confusion.

“what, then?”

“in the bedroom.” lando smirks, and your eyes go wide.

“like… like what?” you squeak, slightly lost.

your sex life was nothing short of adventurous, to say the least.

“like maybe…” he hums teasingly. “you take control?” lando raises his eyebrows suggestively, and you feel yourself flush.

“me? i thought you liked taking charge?”

lando stops, pulling you into his body. water splatters higher up your legs, cooling you down the slightest amount. his hands cup your cheeks, tilting your head up to look at him.

“i love watching you.” he states simply. “and i wanna watch you push yourself.”

“okay.” you inhale shakily. “okay.” you repeat with more conviction. an idea pops into your head. you can’t resist the smirk that pulls at the corner of your lips, and lando grins at the glimmer in your eyes.

“go back to the house. wait for me in our room.”

“naked?” he quips cheekily.

“what do you think?” you tease. lando kisses you quickly, but you push him back. “go.” you command.

he turns to walk away, repeatedly turning back to you, as if he wants to make sure he hasn’t imagined your entire existence. you just turn your back, staring out to sea. the sky is awash with streaks of purple and orange, and you feel your skin prickle with excitement. you take your time walking back, actively trying to slow yourself down. when you reach the door to the master suite, your breath hitches in your throat.

your husband looks fucking ethereal, stretched out across the off-white linen on the king sized mattress. he’s elongated by the way his head is thrown back, bathed in the lamp light as his muscles flex, taut from the way he’s gripping himself, working himself from base to tip. a faint sheen of sweat coats his bronzer-still skin and your mouth runs dry.

“couldn’t wait?” you rasp, low and dangerous. his eyes flutter open, and the bastard has the audacity to beam at you.

“took too long.” he shrugs, resuming without a care in the world. you hear him pant, teeth gritted from the pleasure.

“hands off, lando.” you slowly undress, untying your sarong and letting it flutter to the floor. your bikini quickly follows, landing in a colourful heap on the floor. you stalk towards him and watch him swallow hard when you perch on your knees at the end of the bed. “you asked for this, amour, and you couldn’t even wait to enjoy it properly.”

you’re pouting at him, feigning sadness. he picks up on it, eyes locked on you, trailing shamelessly over your breasts.

“was thinking about how pretty you looked out there.” lando rasps, fisting the duvet beneath him. you tilt your head to the side, raking your eyes over his frame.

“bad boys don’t get the real thing.”

you smooth your hand up his thigh towards his hipbone, and you notice the way he twitches, cock stood tall and waiting. he’s leaking, desperate and aching, but he plays along, needy for it. you grin lazily, wriggling up the bed until you’re close enough, throwing your leg over one of his until you’re straddling his thigh, the skin warm against your bare cunt.

“baby…” he breathes, bringing up a hand to graze your thigh, but you bat it away.

“no touching.” you scold. “i’m gonna take what i want and,” you pause, thoughtfully. “then, maybe, i’ll give you something.”

lando pouts up at you, slowly retreating his hand until it’s back at his side. his jaw is tight as he fights to keep his mouth shut, trying to be content with just watching. after all, you are quite the sight.

you roll your hips experimentally, gasping at the way your clit grazes his skin. your head falls back, out of it as you find a rhythm that works. you drag yourself backwards and forwards, panting as you go, your wetness smearing across his flexed thigh.

“it’s so good, lando,” you moan. “wish you could touch me, but you don’t behave.” you tut, smirking down at him.

“i’ll be good, baby.” he chokes, and your eyes fly open. you rake you eyes over the shape of him, the tense dips of each of his abs, the way his hip bone pulses, leading all the way down to where he’s throbbing.

“looks painful.” you bite your lip. “want me to help?”

“please.” he coos, reaching out for you again before he thinks better of it, twisting his fingers back into the sheets until his knuckles are white.

you grip the base of his cock, loose at first, squeezing tight a few times. his mouth falls open, a deep, unhinged groan rumbling through his chest. you almost lose yourself in how gorgeous he looks but you remain focused, fucking your hand up and down on him a few times, experimenting.

“you gotta wait, amour.” you warn, thumbing at the tip, smearing beads of pre cum over the head. lando whines, squeezing his eyes shut, teeth gritting so hard that his jawline pops, defining it even more than usual. you grin. he’s wrapped so tight around your finger.

“don’t tease me.” he begs, bucking his hips into your hand.

“but you gotta keep it all in for me, amour. save it all so you can fill me up whenever i want.” your voice drips all over him like honey, making him shiver violently.

“you can’t just say that-“

“i can, lando. i can,” you giggle, evil. “and you’re gonna take it.” it’s a promise and a threat and he’s seconds away from blowing his load all over you.

“jesus, i’ve created a fucking monster.” lando hisses, gasping with every slow rub of your hands over his cock.

“and now you’re gonna deal with the consequences, sweetheart.” you purr. “you wanna fuck me?”

his eyes shoot wide open, and he nods desperately, his gaze boyish and needy.

“so wet for you, lando, think i’ll just sink right…” you trail off, manoeuvring yourself so that you’re hovering over his length, red and swollen. “down.” you moan, filling yourself up with ease.

lando cries out, a broken man of his own design, and you pant, rocking yourself backwards and forward as you adjust to the intrusion.

“we feel so good together.” you breathe, peering down at where he’s splitting you open.

“so good.” lando affirms. “can i touch you?” he whines, the veins in his arms protruding through his skin. they remind you how powerful he is, how easily he could flip you over and pound into you like a madman, but he’s letting you destroy him and he’s loving every second. you clamp down around him at the thought, a gush of your slick dripping down around him.

“touch me.” you comply, and he springs from the mattress, sitting unsupported in the middle of the bed as his hands snake around your waist. you anchor him though, holding him close as he holds you tight against him, rutting up into you so deliciously that you cry out his name wetly, face buried in his hair. “so good for me.” you whisper.

your hands cup his face, pulling back from his frizzy curls enough to press your lips to his, swallowing each-others moans.

“gonna come, baby.” lando mumbles into your lips, eyes glazed over with panic, scared you’re gonna deny him.

“that’s okay, amour, you saved it all for me.” you kiss the words against the corner of his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as your own orgasm tightens your belly to the point of no return. “good boy, lando, fill me up now, sweetheart.”

the grunt he lets out heightens into a whine, lost to the crook of your neck as he releases, grinding into you as he lets go. it sends a rush of heat up your spine, a flame to gunpowder, and you thrash in his arms, meeting your own end seconds later.

you come down in his embrace, pulling away to meet his wide eyes, awestruck and glossy.

“thank you, baby.” he mutters, hugging you tight for just a moment, before rolling you onto your back.

“love you.” you whisper, confused as to where he’s going when he starts to move down the bed.

you don’t have to wonder for long, watching as he settles his head against your thigh, licking his lips as he finds his release dripping out of you. two fingers run through your folds, teasing each and every overstimulated nerve. your teeth sink into your bottom lip right when his fingers sink into your cunt. lando’s in a daze, watching the way everything seeps out of you.

“keep it in for me.” lando slurs, transfixed on every clench of your spent cunt around his thick fingers. your eyes roll back in your head.

-

you roll over in the bed, the sunlight streaming through the linen curtains rousing you from your slumber. you push your hair from your face, reaching blindly for your husband but your hand lands on cold sheets, thudding dully against the mattress. you wrinkle your nose, sitting up and scanning the bedroom. you don’t find him, confused. he never wakes up first. your feet meet the cool tiles of the floor and you pad into the en-suite to freshen up, pulling a loose robe on before you make your way downstairs. you can smell eggs, toast and something floral, and you grin giddily, already anticipating what awaits.

you find lando in the middle of the kitchen, sleepy eyed and smiling at you like you’re the centre of the universe, sent to earth just for him. he’s surrounded, surrounded, by flowers, all kinds of varieties, and they flood the space, every surface covered by bouquets and arrangements. behind him, nestled amongst the sea of pinks, yellow and whites, the table is laid out with a delicious spread, and you feel a pang of hunger at the sight of fresh pastries and juices.

“mon dieu.” you sigh dreamily, grazing a hand over flower petals as you make your way through the jungle towards lando. “all of this for me? how the fuck did you manage this?” you swoon, wrapping your arms around his neck. he leans down, kisses you sweet and slow.

“rumour has it, there are no flowers left on the island.” he chuckles into your neck, and you giggle, leaning up to kiss him again.

“you’re insane.” you reply, awestruck. how did you get so lucky?

“ready for the day?” lando asks, toying with the ends of your hair.

“as long as i get to eat my body weight in sfogliatella first.” you tell him, eyeing the table behind him hungrily.

-

droplets of water sparkle in the sunlight, dripping slowly down his lean back, flexing with every shake of his head.

lando had crawled out the pool, and right between your legs, where he now resides, mouthing at the crotch of your bikini bottoms. he snaps the band of them against your waist, and you arch further into him every time his nose bumps your clothed clit.

“you’re being mean.” you whine, head falling back against the sun lounger. your book has fallen to the stone paved floor, your place surely lost, but you couldn’t care less. every time you pick the damn thing up, your husband has found a new, unique, way to entice you out of actually reading it, usually with his tongue.

“you want my mouth, baby? just say please.” he smirks up at you, wet curls falling over his eyes. water droplets drip over your thighs, cold against your warm skin and you shiver.

“please.” you growl, not really meaning it, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“polite.” lando tuts, but he relents, twisting the ties that hold the bottoms together until they come undone. he tugs the material away, throws it blindly, and the quiet splash that sounds from behind him tells you both that they’d landed in the pool. he looks up at you, sheepish, and you glare at him.

“make it up to me.” you mutter, bucking your hips into his face.

lando complies, closing his mouth over your clit, sucking softly at the bud. you’re throbbing for him, writhing in the heat of the sun at his electric touch.

two fingers slither between your folds, and he groans into your cunt at the slickness that he finds there, laving his tongue through your slit to savour your taste before his fingers sink inside of you. as he builds a rhythm, fingertips bumping that special spot, you cry out, melting completely into the lounger.

“can feel us from earlier,” lando slurs, lips bumping your clit as he speaks. you shiver, the wet squelch between you quivering thighs leaving you utterly breathless. “so good for me, keeping it all in.”

you let go a few seconds later, grinning languidly as you watch him lick his fingers clean through your sunglasses. he kisses you cheekily, leaving you with your taste on your tongue, and he throws himself back into the pool.

“get my bikini bottoms!” you call, flustered by the way the low sun hits him, paints his golden and shiny.

“but i prefer the view without them.” he winks, but dives under the water to retrieve them nonetheless.

-

“‘m so, so in love with you.” lando rasps into your ear, mouthing at the skin of your flushed cheeks.

you’re chest to chest, eyes locked as he grinds into you, deeper and deeper somehow with every thrust. he leaves you dizzy, tingling and weightless with every stroke, hips brushing yours.

“lando,” you sigh dreamily, threading your fingers through his curls. they’re loosening from the humidity, the heat burning between you both, no longer perfectly coiled like they had been during your dinner date.

lando had hired out a small italian restaurant overlooking the sea, soft fairy lights strung over your heads as you’d sipped wine, hands loosely clasped together. he’d toyed with your wedding band the whole time, eyes rarely leaving yours. it was a perfect end to a perfect honeymoon, and as he’d driven you back to your villa, the tension had simmered.

he had you on your back quickly, but he was careful with you, lazily revealing more and more skin as he slowly undressed you. he’d tried to slide between your thighs, eyes lit up with longing, but you’d refused him. you needed him against you, buried so deep, intertwined. lando hadn’t fought you much, pouting at the deprivation of getting a taste, but when he’d slid his cock through your folds, easy because of your glistening slick, his eyes had rolled back and he’d gotten over the disappointment.

“you’re so perfect.” you pant, leaning up to kiss him. it’s sweet, full of passion, leaves you wanting. “i love you.” you whisper when he pulls away, his forehead resting intimately against yours. warm breaths mingle, rapid and needy from the intensity of it all.

when you fall apart under him, a string of jumbled french rolls off of your tongue, your eyes squeezed shut at the pure inferno of ecstasy that washes over you. you’re both damp with sweat, his curls falling in a mess over his forehead, framing pretty eyes that roll back in his head when he burrows deep and reaches his own release.

once you’re untangled, you lay facing each other and his fingertips ghost over the curve of your bare waist. you watch one another, utterly content with the silence, bathing in the warmth of the bedside lamp and the pale moonlight that filters in through the open balcony doors. the cool nighttime breeze grazes over your naked bodies, pulling you out of the unrelenting heat of the moment and into something serene, peaceful.

“i can’t wait to spend my life with you.” lando whispers, his words soft in the quiet of the room. you let them wash over you, tuned in to the waves rippling against the shore in the distance. you grin coyly back at him, grabbing the hand that he’s stroking you with. you pull it to your lips, kiss it sweetly.

you fall asleep with his arms wrapped around you, your back to his chest, loose curls tickling the skin of your neck. one of his hands rests gently over your lower belly, covered with one of yours.

your bags wait by the door, packed and ready to go home, where the rest of your life with him begins.

-

“i like this colour better, i think.” you muse, flicking between paint swatches. violet white and apple moon have caught your attention, but you wonder if a colder undertone would work best. you’ve taken on the task of redoing a guest room, a little end of summer project.

lando wrinkles his nose and you roll your eyes playfully.

you’re lounged across your sofa, the sun slowly dipping behind the horizon and you watch it through the open balcony doors. the room is tinged orange, glowing, painting your husband angelic.

“don’t you think something… warmer would work better?” he asks, leaning closer to have another look.

“not everyone loves fluorescent yellow.” you tease, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“okay, not that.” he laughs. “what about,” he scans the other swatches on the coffee table, reaching for one. “this one?”

he hands you honey beam, and you toy with the small card.

“i think it’s too pink.” you say.

“it’s cute! i just think we should paint it something soft, just in case…” he trails off, leaning forward and immersing himself in the samples. you lean in, too, chasing him. he has this small smile on his lips, lost in thought.

“hey, ‘in case’ what?” you ask.

lando turns to you, just stares for a second. the low sun makes your eyes sparkle, and he melts.

“in case we get pregnant.” he says quietly.

“oh.” you coo, grinning up at him. “i suppose you have a point.”

“yeah?” he breathes, excited in a way you can only compare to a sweet, innocent puppy.

“yeah.”

“like, baby, i love your eye for design but i don’t want our baby to grow up in a a pretentious, grey, prison-“ lando teases you, and you shut him up by wrestling him back onto the sofa.

“ve te faire foutre.” you scold, kissing over his cheeks.

“i love you and i love our house.” lando murmurs sincerely.

the paint swatches are forgotten as you laugh together and kiss him sweetly into the sofa.

-

lando relaxes into the seat, waiting for the plane to take off. oscar sits across from him, already falling asleep, hoodie pulled tight around his head. charles and alexandra are supposed to be joining them on the flight back to nice. he wonders where they are - he wants nothing more than to get home, curl into his wife’s side. lando snaps a picture of his dozing teammate, smirking at the screen, but before he can upload it to his instagram story, your contact photo fills the screen. he accepts the facetime, beaming as your tired eyes meet his through the screen.

“hey baby.” lando coos, sticking his tongue out at you.

“mon amour,” you greet, grinning at him lazily. “have you taken off yet?” you ask softly. you’re on your side in bed, blankets cocooning you, and lando aches to be there with you.

“soon, waiting for your brother and alex.” lando rolls his eyes jokingly, and you tut.

“i’ll tell them off.” you frown, unserious.

“god, don’t do that! i’m already terrified of that man.” lando shivers, and your laugh fills his ears, warms the blood flowing through his cheeks. “are you okay, though, baby? you look tired.”

“yeah, think it’s just sugar crash,” you half shrug. “i’ve been really tired for the last few days, it’s nothing.”

“sugar?” lando’s eyebrows furrow. you’re not one for sugary things, supplementing it with your body weight in snacks. you’re a savoury girl, through and through.

“yeah, i’m all kinder-d out.” you giggle, sheepish. his eyes go wide.

“my kinder?” lando gasps, feigning hurt. he sees it, then, the pile of wrappers on the nightstand behind you.

“whoops? don’t even know what came over me, but your entire stash is gone.”

“how am i ever gonna forgive you for this?” lando shakes his head, smirking at the screen.

“just get more on the way back? please?” you plead, giving him the eyes that he’d die for.

“course, baby.” he promises, but he’s mulling it all over in his head. “you’re not getting sick, are you?”

cravings. overly tired. all you had to say next was that you were nauseous and he’d be buying a crib. he kept his mouth shut, though, because it clearly hasn’t dawned on you yet.

“not sure, i’ve been fine mostly.” you shrug again, and lando can’t help but smile like a fool. “what?” you ask, noticing his untamed expression.

“nothing, i just love you. okay, baby, i’m gonna call charles and see where he is. i’ll be home in a few hours.”

“don’t forget my kinder!” you call, blowing him a kiss. “have a good flight, amour, i love you.”

lando can’t quieten his mind, too overwhelmed with the possibility that you’re about to expand your family, something he’s imagined since before he’d even proposed.

when charles steps onto the small plane, met with the sight of his brother in law grinning like an idiot at absolutely nothing, he wonders, yet again, what kind of joke god was playing on him.

-

you hear the front door open, the soft thud of bags dropping to the floor, and you spring from the mattress. you ignore the way your tummy turns uncomfortably, and speed down the hallway to meet him.

“hey baby.” lando murmurs, holding you tight when you jump into his arms. you never get used to him being gone.

“missed you.” you whisper, breathing in the familiar scent of him, warm and spicy, and even better than usual. “i’m so proud of you.”

lando was leading the championship, but he couldn’t get too comfortable. charles and lewis were looming in the near distance, and oscar was creeping towards the party at a rate of knots. but lando was on a streak of race wins, and he couldn’t deny that your praise made him giddy. after all, these days it was all for you.

“yeah?” lando asks, pressing his forehead against yours. you hum in agreement, leaning in for a kiss. it’s sweet, tender, silent confirmation of just how much you’ve missed one another.

“did you pick up my chocolate?” you pout, fingers intertwined as you walk to the sofa. you drop down, curling up and lando sits next to you.

“i did, and i also got you something else.” lando smiles coyly, unzipping his bag. your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

first, he hands you the kinder chocolate. then, he hands you a pregnancy test.

seeing the two items together makes it dawn on you, and you slap your hands over your face.

“mon dieu!” you gasp. “how did i not realise?” when you lower your hands, lando sees how your eyes glimmer with tears, your lips stretched into a nervous smile.

“so i’m not crazy for thinking it, right?” lando laughs, cupping your cheeks with warm, shaking hands.

“you’re not. should i take it now?”

“i might die if you don’t.” lando’s dead serious, the tension between you palpable.

you stand from the sofa, speed towards the bathroom, and lando watches you go. he sighs, rubbing his eyes, overcome with jitters and excitement.

time seems to stand still as he waits, eyes locked on the door that you’d gone through, waiting for any movement. five minutes must have passed, but if you’d told him it had been five years, he would have believed it. the door handle makes him jump to his feet, and he walks towards you tentatively. your expression is unreadable and he wants to scream.

“so? are you- are we?” lando pleads, only a few steps away from you now.

your neutral expression morphs into one of pure joy, the tears you’d been holding back streaming in a free-for-all.

“all that work we put in must have paid off.” you whisper, and lando surges towards you. your feet leave the ground, held so tight as he spins you around.

“we’re having a baby?” lando breathes, placing you back on the ground carefully.

“you’re gonna be a dad.” you manage through tears.

“my god,” his voice is laced with disbelief, utterly enamoured with you. “i can’t even believe it.” his face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you feel his wet, hot tears pooling there.

“i’m pregnant.” you say it slowly, tasting it on your tongue, feeling the weight of it. your husband clings to you, and your hands rake through his hair, soothing him with your dull nails across his scalp, as you ground yourself in the ecstasy of the moment.

“we did it!” lando cheers, flushed red, his watery eyes shining like the sun hitting the sea. you’re shaking, fingertips grazing your sweatshirt covered belly. his fingers lace with yours, rubbing gentle circles over the fabric.

“we did.” your voice wobbles, cheeks aching from your unshakable smile. “what the hell do we do now?”

“we plan a really elaborate hiding spot so that charles never finds me. you and the baby can visit.” lando replies earnestly, bursting into giggles when you swat his arm.

he pulls you into a kiss, so slow and gentle that the whole house melts away around you; all that’s left is you and him, and something so beautiful that you’ve created together.

“thank you.” lando mumbles against your lips.

“i’m just glad you convinced me not to paint the spare room grey.”

-

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[no-144444]

the trouble with racing- o.piastri

summary: a the first race of the season, oscar figures something out that could change his life forever.

pairing: oscar piastri x ex! single mom! fem! reader

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You had always loved going to races, especially to see Oscar win. Home races were a big deal, and against your better judgement, you allowed Max to drag you along. You hadn’t seen him in years, not since he left F2 and left you behind. No text, no calls, just a note saying he couldn't do it anymore. Couldn’t love you anymore. Max was your brother in law, he’d married your sister years ago, and you two had bonded over your shared love of racing, but he’d never understood why you wouldn’t go to a GP. He also didn’t get why you wouldn’t let your daughter anywhere near the sport, when she already loved it so much, but to each their own. 

“Come on P,” you smiled, holding her hand and pulling her away from the gates of the paddock. All you had to do was get through the weekend. Just babysit Poppy and take care of Mia, and you’d be fine, right?

“Can we visit uncle Lando?” she asked and you grimaced. 

“We’ll see, first we should put all our stuff in Redbull, yeah?” you smiled at her and she nodded, running on to catch up with Max as he walked through the paddock. Your sister, busy pregnant with her second child, had decided to stay home and not fly, thereby giving Max a reason to beg you to help him out and take care of P. You had reluctantly agreed, and that’s how you ended up in the McLaren Motorhome, chatting to Lando. You’d met him a few times before, just in passing with Max, or at P’s birthday parties. He was sweet. 

“And how’s my favourite girl doing?” he asked, taking Mia out of your arms. 

You chuckled, watching the exchange. 

“Hi,” her meek little voice made Lando smile and laugh. 

“Hi Mia,” he waved. “Do you want to have a look at my car?

She nodded. 

“Do you want to sit in my car?” 

She nodded vigorously. 

“You don’t have to-” you started but he cut you off. 

“It’s fine, mechanics are done with it anyways. Onward we go!” he giggled, and you followed behind the two with P beside you. 

“I want to talk to Oscar!” P smiled. 

“He’s in the garage, you can go say hi,” Lando informed her and she ran ahead, straight for the garage. 

You felt your anxiety spike. He wouldn’t say anything, surely? He had nothing to say when he left. He should have nothing to say now. 

Lando and Mia got on like two peas in a pod, and you took all the photos while he talked to her about the different parts of the steering wheel and how it all worked. 

“Y/n?” Nicole’s voice brought you out of your bubble, and you felt yourself stiffen. “Is that you?” 

You turned around to see her shocked face, Hattie, Eddie, Mae, and Tim all standing behind her, the same surprised look. 

“Hi,” you smiled awkwardly. “How are you guys?”

“We’re good,” Nicole nodded, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that you were here. “H-How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you nodded. 

“W-What are you doing here?” she asked. 

“Max Verstappen is my brother in law,” you explained. “He needed help with P-”

Just then, Poppy came bounding in, Oscar hot on her tail and wrapped her arms around your midriff.  “Auntie Y/n, am I allowed to root for two teams?” 

You smiled down at her, playing with her hair as she leant against you. “Of course, once one of them is Max.”

She looked at you, unamused. “Of course it is silly!” 

You chuckled. 

“Mom!” Mia giggled. “Look, I’m a racer!”

You turned back to Lando and Mia and saw her with her hands on the steering wheel, Lando dying of laughter as he took photos. You chuckled. “Well done baby.”

You turned back to see a horrified look on Oscar’s face, and the rest of his family looking at you surprised. “Well, it was nice to see you, but I’d better get back to Redbull,” you smiled before turning back to Lando. “Thank you Lan, she loves this stuff.”

He nodded, taking her out of the car and handing her to you. “See you later,” he called as you three left. 

Fuck. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

The Piastri’s were stunned into a sort of shocked silence. Nicole was looking at her son, a million thoughts running through her head. 

“Lando,” Oscar spoke up. “Who’s kid is that?”

“Mia?” he asked, his face hardened. “Y/n’s.”

“How old is she?” Nicole rushed out. “Is Y/n married? Does Mia have a dad-?”

“Mia’s four,” he answered, calm and calculated. “Y/n’s been single since she found out, and Mia does have a dad; Oscar.” 

And Oscar’s world crumbled. He thought he was doing the best thing for you, getting you out of his insane life before it all got too crazy for you. He thought he was fixing things by leaving you behind. But all this time, he could’ve been a dad. He could’ve been there for you, while you were pregnant, while you were exhausted with a newborn, while you were alone. There hadn’t been a day that had gone by where he didn’t think about you, and wished you were still there with him, but it was his choice, and he made it. He started at the floor, trying to process it all. That kid was half him, half you. Mia. That was the name you’d both decided on if you ever got pregnant and it was a girl. You still had him in mind when you were naming her. 

“Oscar,” Lando’s voice was low. “Y/n has spend four fucking years without you, because that’s what you wanted. You wanted her to leave, so she left. She’s happy, after being very unhappy for a really long time. Do not fuck this up for her. Yes, you have a right to your child, but just think about the fact that she’s been doing fine without you for four years.”

“I-I… Can I talk to her?” he asked no one in particular. “I never knew.” 

“You blocked her on everything, how was she supposed to tell you?” Lando scolded. 

“Quali starts in 15 minutes,” Nicole interjected. “I’ll go speak to her.” 

“No,” Oscar sighed. “I’ll talk to her after. Let me sort this out, alright?” 

She nodded.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Pole position didn’t taste as good as he wanted it to, especially when it also meant he had about 2 extra hours of interviews. He just wanted to see you. He just wanted to talk to you. He wanted to see Mia. 

He rushed to the RedBull garage, searching high and low for you until he ran into Max. 

“Hey mate,” Max smiled. “Alright?”

“Where’s Y/n?” he asked, frantic. 

“My sister in law?” he questioned and Oscar nodded. “She went back to the hotel.” 

“Which hotel?” 

“I’ll drive with you, come on,” Max offered and Oscar took it. “Why do you need her?” 

“I just… we have to talk about some things,” Oscar explained as they sat in the back of a car, driving towards the hotel. “We went to school together.”

“No way!” Max chuckled, not getting the fact that Oscar was seriously stressed and nervous. “That’s so fun, she dated a guy called Oscar for like five years and they met in high school,” Max’s head suddenly swivelled to meet Oscar’s eyes. “That wasn’t you, was it?”

“No,” Oscar lied. “No, we were just friends.” 

“Good, whoever that Oscar is, is the one that left her high and dry when she got pregnant,” he scoffed. “Dickhead.”

That didn’t exactly help the pit of guilt in Oscar’s stomach, but he nodded along anyway. 

The rest of the car journey was easy, both of them just chatting about the race tomorrow. When they got to the hotel, Max told him your room number, and Oscar was shooting off towards it. He stood in the elevator, it was a surreal feeling to find out that you had a kid, and he was also about to see the love of his life for the second time in four years. 

He knocked on the door, and herald giggles from Mia, and his heart swelled. You opened the door a crack and smiled in his general direction, but then you realised it was him, grabbed a keycard and came out, closing the door behind you. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” he admitted. “I never knew-”

“I know and I’m sorry- I didn’t want to just… spring it on you like this but I knew you’d have to find out eventually- only Lando knows you’re her dad, and I wanted to tell you, I-I just… It never felt like the right time-”

“I’m her dad?” he questioned, his eyes filling with tears. You nodded, crossing your arms. “All this time and I could've been a dad?”

“I wanted to tell you, I swear, I just didn’t want you to think I was trying to baby trap you or anything, so I let it be and I just got more and more anxious about it, so I just stopped coming to GPs. I know this is a lot and I’m sorry-” you felt yourself tearing up. You knew Oscar wanted to be dad more than anything at all, but you were terrified. He’d broken up with you using a note. 

He wrapped his arms around you, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why you’re apologising. I’m the asshole. I should’ve been here, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t. I love you-”

“Osc-”

“No, I do. I only broke up with you because Zak told me ‘no distractions or realtionships’ and even then I couldn’t break up with you in person, I had to do it with a fucking note. I’ve loved you since we met in school, and I’m sorry that I let you go through this alone. If you’ll let me, I want to be in her life, and maybe yours too.”

Your features eased gently, but he knew what it meant. He knew you like the back of his hand, still. “I’m not sure about my life, but you do have a daughter who definitely would love a dad like you.”

“An F1 driver?” he questioned.

“No,” you chuckled. “A good person, come on,” you ushered him in, revealing Mia on the bed in her pyjamas, freshly bathed as she read a book. “Mia,” you spoke gently. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet-”

“Oscar Piastri!” she cheered. “Pole position!”

He chuckled and looked at you quizzically, as you smiled. 

“She got the racing bug from you,” you smiled at her, your voice low so she couldn’t hear. He beamed with pride. 

“Is she into karting?” he asked and you rolled your eyes. 

“Only three days a week,” you sighed. “She loves it, as much as you did.”

He nodded. “Hi Mia, what book have you got there?” 

“The ABC’s of racing,” she explained. 

“Do you mind if I read it to you tonight instead of your mom?” he offered and she nodded, beaming with excitement. 

He looked at you with a hopeful smile and you nodded, giving him the go-ahead. As you watched him sit beside her in bed, reading to her until she fell asleep against him, as much as your heart was full, you couldn’t escape that unmistakable dread that bubbled in your stomach. Oscar could leave again, you'd just be heartbroken. You had to be smart about this, not let him near you, just let him be a dad to Mia. 

You could do that, right?

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mclaren masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

[sordidmusings]

Between Two Points - Ace

Art from the doujinshi Torch by NINEKOKS

Summary: You and Ace have had a ✨thing✨for a good while now so sharing a bed wasn’t strange for you. It was, however, absolutely tormenting Ace, who couldn’t keep his mind from every time you’ve touched. You wake up to find him wanting. You thought you could keep things quick and fun but they just keep on escalating. Especially when he begs to be inside you for the first time. 

A/N: oh how Ace has haunted me, especially while writing this lol he’s one of my top favs so brain said we extra need to do him justice 👏 pretty happy with the smut but I’m most happy with the ending scene - I wanted it to be sweet and silly and so very Ace. Part of the Between Two Points series!

Warnings: nsfw, Implications of inexperience (Ace), first time together, sleepy sex (at first lol), subby Ace, he begs and thanks you like a lot, he calls you “pretty” as a pet name, praise kink both ways, emotionally fragile Ace, I didn’t mean for that to come out but he demands it, I just wanna shower him in love and validation until he Understands, until then he gets some pussy, multiple orgasms (for both yayyyyy), overstimulation on Ace, probably cumflation, definitely my obsession with men fighting not to cum, you make him suck the mess off your fingers, aftercare, silly banter to soothe the soul, fem!reader - kept it basically gn but then an old lady joke called to me at the end whoops

Word Count: 10.2k

Come get a serving of that soup ( ˘▽˘)っ♨

“If you see your daydreams in me, they'll not lack

What's been weighted in me, I'll make you quake with reason

I can feel your knees sinking into the bed

Searching in my dark eyes to break what’s been said

There’s a wake of grace, hunting your soreness down

There's a light in my skin that's been dimmed

I'mma dig you up and give you what I took

Pull you up and tuck you in and make you look

I'ma smooth your shoulders down and calm what's shook

It was all forlorn, if only for a season

Watching me is like watching a fire take your eyes from you”

“Can something like this be pulled

From under our feet?

Leaving our skin

And burning coals to meet

Tell me now

The shortest distance

Between two points

Is the line

From me to you”

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Ace still can’t believe you’re in the same bed. Every step into intimacy he’s taken with you leaves him shocked and stumbling. He’ll keep tripping after you forever though because, gods, it’s you. You’ve done a hundred and one things to impress him in emergency and battle, to take his breath away with how you decorate yourself, to make him and others watch on in awe at your skills. Though, all of that pales in comparison to the simple act of you being you. You, who wormed your way into his mind with your quirks and open-minded talks. You, who could light up his body with a simple look, a tender touch, a loving smile. You, who took hold of his heart with your patient kindness and understanding. 

You, who is currently keeping him up with the delicious turmoil of holding you so close.

This is the first time you’ve slept in the same bed. Now, you’ve done plenty of other things together, so Ace hadn’t thought that it would be such a big deal. When it hit him that he was really going to be falling asleep cuddled up to you, something so affectionate and domestic, his heart pumped an extra hard beat to wash tingles under his skin. He had thought the flush of excitement would peter off into comfort and contentment. To be fair, a part of it did. The problem is that the other part began incessantly bombarding him with thoughts of everything you could be doing in the bed besides sleeping.

His past experience with you is only making it harder where he thought it would ease his nerves at being close. The sweet or heated kisses you’d grab him to steal only make his lips lonely at their memory. The spark in your eyes as your kisses move southward haunts him and keeps his dick twitching pathetically against your thigh. The echoes of times he got to be the one with his head between your legs, smothering himself in the heady taste and smell of you, has him biting back whimpers. Fuck, he’s aching and flushed and desperate and all you’re doing is sleeping in his arms. He feels guilt creep in.

This should be enough. He shouldn’t be laying here wishing for more of you while you’re already so sweetly snuggling into his chest, offering him trust and affection. Holding you while you’re at your most vulnerable should sate him. Feeling how soft and warm you are with your weight sinking the two of you together should ease him to rest. Yet his mind keeps reminding him of the last time your weight was pressing on him, leaving him equal parts wound up and embarrassed.

As usual, you had been tapped right into when he needed you to escalate things but felt he didn’t have the right to ask. All day he’d been hovering around you, a hand always on arm or shoulder and eyes always ready to jump to you. He was chasing at your heels when you waved for him to follow you so you could settle him with some attention. He was pawing at you the moment your lips touched, moaning at the first rub of tongues, grinding right when you pressed deeper into him. 

Soon he was on the floor with you on his lap, your palms pressing your weight into his heaving chest and your hips working him over. He flushed an even deeper shade of pink when you told him how pretty he looks. The thought of it has his cock jumping even now, and he struggles to keep from grinding up into your lower stomach. He can feel a hint of your mound at the base of his cock, begging him to press harder to tease himself with your plush heat and the firmness of your pelvis underneath. Knowing your clit was hiding right there against him - in easy reach for him to make you squirm with pleasure, make such pretty pretty noises, think of nothing else but how good he’s making you feel - chips away at his resolve. 

The memory continues with the feeling of his fingers sinking into the meat of your hips, caught between pulling you faster and shoving you off because he felt all too close to his end for a grown man who hasn’t even gotten his pants off yet. You were even still fully clothed but didn’t seem to pay that any mind as you circled and ground yourself on the hard cock trapped in his pants. Even with the layers, he felt how hot your cunt was getting, burning even more against him than your mouth when it took to painting a path through his freckles from cheeks to chest. When you took breaks to grind slowly over him, he felt the little moment where your hips slid before your clothes followed, delayed by you slipping through your own wetness first. His eyes rolled back at the fact that using him got you soaked and that out of everyone you chose him to sit your drooling pussy on.

With that thought and his grinds chasing you back, he felt his balls pull taught and his cock pound dangerously.

No, fuck, he hasn’t even made you cum - his clothes, fuck, he’s still in his clothes you, can’t see him cum in his pants like some pathetic boy, no nonono-

“Please,” Ace gasped out, using all his will power to still his hips and keep them pressed to the ground, “I’m- I’m too- please -hhah- you’re just so- fuck! Please, baby.” He was panting the words between moans, trying to find enough strength to hold your hips still. “Just s-slow down, I’m -nnnngh-” You just smiled devilishly down at him and kept picking up the pace. He grit his teeth and arched his head back, “I’m so fucking close- ah!”

He hides his face in the pillows and your hair even as the praises you had showered him in echo in his ears while he holds your sleeping body. His own painfully awake body shivers while he thinks of how hard he came, how each pump had felt like overwhelming bliss trapped against your heat and to the tune of your voice. It has him grinding against you before he can even think and sighing out in relief at a little bit of the touch he needs.

“Ace?”

Your sleepy mumble makes him freeze, every muscle taught like he grabbed a live wire.

“Why are you awake, honey?” The genuine concern in your sleep-thick voice only makes him feel worse. You try to lift your face from his chest, but a hand on the back of your head traps you there. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he swallows, hoping to trap the stutter back down. “Don’t worry - go back to sleep.”

He places a gentle kiss to the top of your head and scratches your scalp to try and settle you. It works for a moment and he relishes in the feel of your body relaxing back against him. That is, until you shift to the side and snuggle deeper. Your thigh brushes his obvious hard on and you both tense. He panics when he feels your eyelashes tickle his chest, letting him know your eyes flew open wide.

“Oh.”

Yeah, oh, he thinks miserably. He’s confused when he feels you smile against his skin.

“Ace, honey, are you enjoying sleeping with me?” Even with the sleepy tone, you manage to get a lot of smug teasing in your voice.

“Yes?” That wasn’t meant to be a question.

“You sure?” you prod. “You seem awful tense.” 

You emphasize the last word with a firm press and rub of your thigh against his aching erection. His whole body shivers and a high sigh escapes him. His hands grasp you at hip and shoulder and he’s struck with the déjà vu of not knowing whether to drag you closer or make you stop. 

You’re having no such struggle, happy to find him a wanting mess. You’ll never get over seeing the confident and playful air he parades around with slipping off to reveal something fragile and seeking when you touch him. Sure, he won you initially with that part of him, charming you to his side like every other moth drawn to his inherent light, trapping you there with all the others under his protection and love. Knowing what pieces can lie under that blaze only makes the show more fun to watch. Knowing someone so powerful, so magnetic, feels the same way for you? Shows you places they’re scared to let others see? It’s your greatest rush and most cherished responsibility.

“You’re perfect, honey,” you praise. He just barely bites back a whimper. “Did you know I was dreaming about you?”

“You were?” Ace sounds much more disbelieving than you’d like.

“Mhmm, I do it often.” Your voice softens with honesty. “You’re always on my mind.”

There’s a slight tremble to Ace’s hold on you. He wants to say something, anything, but his throat has closed too tight for words to pass. 

“I can prove it to you,” the flirtatious heat to your voice eases the fragile vulnerability away. Ace is yet again thankful for your sixth sense when it comes to his needs. Your thigh creeping its way over his leg and hips helps distract him from the pressure behind his eyes. You settle your leg when it’s resting centered on his sensitive head. The weight of your soft thigh easing down on him forces a shaky “hh-ah!” from him and he feels his face flush in embarrassment and need. You reward the sound with a kiss to his pec.

“Well?” you whisper. “Are you gonna check?”

“Huh?” Ace’s blood is all in the wrong head for him to understand anything but praise and orders. You giggle at him and it makes his dick jump against your thigh.

Taking mercy on him, you grab the hand that’s planted on your hip. Slowly, you lead it to the swell of your ass and press his large hand to grip at you. He does so eagerly, playing with the pliant flesh filling his warm hold. Your sleep shorts are thin, letting him feel you easily despite the barrier. He can’t resist the instinct to pull and spread you open. You hum happily at the feeling, arching into it. Ace blows out a tense breath, bedding his cheek into the top of your head and canting his hips up ever so slightly.

“So good, sweetheart,” you sigh. He squeezes down and turns his face to find comfort in the smell of your hair. “Let me show you.”

You urge his hand a little lower, right to the hem of your shorts. You only stop when his fingertips slip under and tickle the skin right beside the swell of your lips. You want him to decide this on his own. He teases the elastic for a moment before trailing the pad of his finger over your underwear right where the seam of your pussy is, starting from your entrance up to your clit and back. Another content hum leaves you, encouraging him, and he swivels his hand to cup your heat. He shivers at the hot breath curling over his chest, and his head swirls happily when you arch your hips up to push your cunt deeper into his palm. 

This time it’s your own hand gripping your ass to spread you open for him. You arch and nudge into his hold more, unintentionally grinding over his cock in your writhing. His fingers twitch, teasing your clit, sparking it to life and leaving you wanting. He’s having trouble keeping himself tempered instead of writhing when he can feel the dampness of your underwear and how they slide messily between his palm and your pussy. He wants it coating his fingers, smeared on his lips, maybe one day he can feel it soaking his cock- 

“Touch me,” you whine impatiently.

Hasty fingers push under the band of your underwear and slip between your folds.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Ace moans. His voice is low in his chest but softened by his breathlessness. He takes his time petting around your entrance and enjoying the feeling of your lips slipping to encase his fingers when he flattens them out to reach your clit.

“Told you I was dreaming about you,” you mumble happily. Even though your body is heated and tingling, you’ve still got the weight of sleep pulling at you, leaving you in a content mix of dreaminess and pleasure. You relax further into Ace, happy to let him touch you as he likes in that tentative, worshipping way of his. It’s that endearing contrast to the brash and confident way he presents himself and fights. He always starts touching you like it’s an honor he doesn’t deserve, something he needs to take slowly lest he scare you off or never get the chance again. Even though you love the treatment, it breaks your heart that he thinks he’s so below you as to not deserve to touch you, let alone receive your affection.

The tip of a finger presses at your entrance, just enough to have the pad sink in. You swivel your hips to urge him further and moan when he listens to your plea. Ace moans with you, always amazed at your tight heat. It welcomes him easily despite gripping down snugly on his skin. He pulls his digit out with a curl, shivering when your muscles clamp back against him. You sigh his name in that dreamy way that makes him feel special, and he can’t help but add another finger and sink them in deep. Even though he’s in to the last knuckle, you shove your face down into his chest and your ass into the air to try and suck him in deeper. He rewards you by petting at your walls, drawing more pleasurable twitches from your cunt.

“More,” you whine. It’s half demand and half complaint and all turning his brain to mush. How quickly you are winding into desperation is only making his own need grow. He needs to hear more from you, he needs you to fix the burning under his skin, he needs fuck himself into a place so deep in you that you can never be rid of him.

“Need to be inside you,” Ace groans before he can think about the words. “Please, pretty baby, you feel too good-” he swallows thickly when you hungrily grind back onto his massaging fingers, “fuck -hah- need to know-” he can’t finish his sentence because you’ve snuck your hand down to palm his erection and stroke him in time with your thrusting hips.

“Think you’re ready to fuck me?” you ask. You meant to check in and make sure he was emotionally ready, but your breaths rushing out of you made it sound harsh.

“Please,” he begs, voice broken, holding you tight with his free hand, “I’ll make you feel so good- promise, promise.”

“I’m just worried-”

“It’ll be okay,” he promises immediately, “just a quick feel, you don’t even have to let me fuck you- just gotta feel you on my cock at least once.” He tries to win your favor by using his free hand to tease your clit.

“Ace,” you gasp. It’s hard to slow him down when he’s winding your body up so well. With a quick jerk, he shifts you up his body, giving him better leverage to work you on his fingers. It lands your face in the pillow next to his and he takes the opportunity to suck open mouthed kisses across your neck. You mean to talk to him and get a hold on how frantic he’s getting, but all you can do is let out muffled moans into soft cotton. 

“I’ll be good,” Ace whispers against the shell of your ear. His breath is hot and humid and gets you one step closer to an orgasm lighting you on fire. “I’ll make you cum until you can’t worry anymore.” The fingers tweaking your clit and prodding your firming walls give weight to his promise. Your hips are already starting to stiffen and twitch with the oncoming climax. “I’ll keep begging, I’ll worship you, anything you want, just, fuck-” his voice breaks before he can stop it. “Please let me feel you.”

Ace feels like he can’t get enough air; he won’t be able to breathe if you pull away - he’s sure he’ll suffocate without you. His whole body is pulsing and alive with urgency, not just the cock straining against his pants. The only thing that’s keeping him grounded is you. Your pretty moans slipping out, half-covered by the pillow. Your searching hands, grasping and working his body over in search of something to hold on to. Your chest blanketing his own, ebbing and flowing in waves with your heavy breathing pressing into him. Most of all, the slick, plush grip of your cunt around his fingers, singing to him in little wet slaps every time it welcomes his fingers back home.

“Ace, I’m-” you turn your head towards him so he can hear and find him already looking at you. His flush is deep enough to try and hide his freckles and his pupils are blown enough to turn his brown eyes black. His slack jaw lets your breaths mingle. The pressure of his fingers on your clit increases just the slightest bit, but it’s just right to get your body to clamp down and not let go. “I’m so close, gonna cum, please, love-” Ace sobs out a moan at the new pet name and presses the fingers inside you even more insistently “ahhn! Don’t stop, don’t stop, gonna-”

You suck in a greedy breath and it’s trapped in your lungs as your body starts to seize up. The hit of pleasure has you curling as close as you can into Ace, needing to clutch him when the first wave crests heavily. His fingers follow you when you squirm to center fully on top of him, soothing you through the ride with gentle pumps into your twitching walls. You breathe again after a moment, letting out a flurry of praise into Ace’s shoulder. The little shakes of your hips make you rub against his trapped cock and his eyes roll back against his wish to keep watching you. 

The way your pussy clamps down on his fingers is absolute torture. Pressed so close with his eyes shut, he can almost imagine the rhythmic waves of your spasming cunt milking him while he fucks you full of cum. It has him panting along beside you like he was the one who just came. 

You’re easing down from your high, swollen walls settled along his now unmoving fingers. The sound of your panting settles with you and the room starts to still into a cozy calmness. Your muscles feel liquid and uncooperative as you try to adjust into a comfier position. The movement yet again rubs you against Ace and he whimpers at the heavy gush of precum it pulls from him.

With a pained sound, Ace wiggles the hand that had been toying with your clit out from under your hips and past his sensitive cock to draw shapes on your back. The action brings the smell of sex closer up to his face and he can’t help but groan. Fuck, he doesn’t want to push you or bother you, but the high of seeing you cum has passed and left him even more wanting.

“Pretty?” Ace starts softly. He kisses at your temple and you hum in reply. “...please?”

You hum again, only half hearing him between the orgasm taking the wind out of your sails and that wind having only been a small gust in the first place given it was somewhere around the witching hour.

“I still need you,” he urges, pressing his hips up gently for some miniscule relief and to make you understand. He’s scalding hot below you and throbbing into your lower stomach and it starts to bring you some clarity.

“While I’d love to continue, I’m tired,” you sigh. Before he can apologize or take it the wrong way, you continue. “Normally that wouldn’t really be a problem, but I want to be bright eyed and bushy tailed the first time I fuck you.” Even with the casual way you’re talking, Ace sighs happily and pulls you tighter at the idea. Before you can think about how you’re about to contradict your words, your mouth moves and you’re back to riling him. “I’ve thought of our first time together a lot, and I’m going to treat you to much more than some sleepy sex.” He shivers and moves back to mouthing at your neck at the promise. “I want you sitting pretty under me while I show you everything I can do to you.”

“But I’m under you now,” Ace argues.

“You are, and you’re doing so good at the looking pretty thing too,” you sigh in mock defeat. You feel him smile against your neck, both from the praise and from gaining some ground. Gotta get that idea back out of his head. “I don’t wanna leave you hanging, but I want to do more for you the first time you’re inside me.”

Ace doesn’t share that worry. He’s more worried about using his free hand to start guiding your hips in slow circles to feel the motion around the fingers still sitting inside you. It also teases his still leaking cock and makes it painfully easy to imagine the sensation blending so his cock feels the circles and the grip of your cunt. It flutters on his digits and he flexes his hand to feel the twitching muscles better, putting pressure towards your lower stomach. You keen at the burn it sets in your nerves, arching against his hand to feel more. Shoved so snuggly into your body, Ace’s fingers pick up the thump of your racing heart beating behind the walls of your pussy. He’s never needed anything more than he needs to feel it tapping against the racing pulse of his own heart pulsing through his cock.

“Please, pretty, please please ple-hease” he begs again, beyond reason. “What if- what if we don’t fuck? What if you just let me inside you to keep me warm?”

The idea is quite tempting. You kiss at the side of his face, giving yourself time to enjoy the fantasy of cockwarming him. It’s one you’ve come back to many times in your daydreams of him. Still, you want to fuck the sanity out of him the first time he’s inside you.

“Ace, no-”

“Just the tip.” The words are rushed and breathless and broken. “What if it’s just the tip?”

You realize there’s no reasoning with him and you’re losing the want to try. It’s not like you haven’t been wanting to fuck him since lust rode in on the coattails of “wow he’s pretty and so sweet”. He’s not the only one hiding insecurities though, and you frequently fear that if you don’t keep up the trend of blowing his mind with all the physical stuff then he’ll get bored of you. You can’t accept your first time together being anything less than perfect; the very idea fills you with dread, so much so that the potent temptation of Ace writhing and begging and even just his fingers making you feel so fucking good hasn’t shaken it off you.

“I can’t-” Ace swallows hard, “I can’t just keep dreaming about it, please, fuck, pretty, I need you.”

You believe him. You’ve never heard him so lost before in all your times fooling around. He’s prone to his tongue loosening the longer you touch and this is far from the first time he’s pleaded with you, but this felt different. There’s a frantic undertone to his voice and the words spilling from his lips. There’s truth to the emotion turning his grasp into a delicious mix of powerful and trembling. There’s no arguing with the twitching length grinding into your lower stomach - no way you can deny how hard he feels or the heat of it burning against you even through your clothes. It’s enough to make you lose yourself to the thought of getting to clamp down around his firm cock while the length finds places to toy with much deeper than you can reach. You can tell from the shape against you his width would press back at every nerve you’ve got, waking them up and making them sing. 

You come back to reality when he sneaks in a deep thrust of his fingers. The wet sound makes him moan, and the responding clench turns it into a deep, throaty “fuck”. His head flies back as he arches and grinds. You look up from the pillow and see his pretty black waves piling next to the sharp cut of his jaw. The bob of his throat as he swallows matches the jump of his cock. You feel every detail of it and notice he’s leaked enough to soak through his shorts and your shirt, leaving a sticky spot against your skin.

“You make me feel so good,” Ace moans. “I can make you feel good too.”

The fact that he thinks he needs to convince you of that even with his fingers stuffed in you, held tight with how your cunt’s swelled from pleasure, proves he’s very far from rational thought.

“You did,” you promise with a sweet kiss to his neck. “Now it’s your turn.” His head shoots up to give you a hopeful look. “You’ve cum from less, isn’t this enough?” You swirl your hips down against him to illustrate your point.

“It’s not about cumming,” he grumbles, suddenly sounding a bit more coherent and honestly a bit offended. “I wanna be closer.”

That throws you so off guard you just spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

“We could take off our clothes?”

Ace doesn’t give you time to take it back, his hands flying from you and already shoving his shorts down his thighs. He sighs in relief when his cock springs free, and nudges his head into yours mindlessly in relieved affection. Too impatient to finish the task, he stops pushing his shorts while they’re halfway down to instead get his hands under your shirt. You go to finish what he started but get distracted taking handfuls of his waist and thighs. When you thumb at the descending line of his adonis belt, Ace can do nothing but press into your touch, even pausing his mission to get under your clothes.

You lay yourself back on Ace, now trapping his dick between his twitching abs and the soft skin of your stomach and the tease of trimmed hair on your mound. Somewhere in his brain he thinks he should be ashamed of how he’s an absolute mess from something so simple as feeling your skin on his cock. At the moment, the shame is overshadowed by sheer need and awe. This is you - he’s dreamed of this, agonized over it, sat drowning in a mind and body desperate to find a way to get you to look at him, let alone touch him. Even when you started pulling him with you for teasing tastes on top of your shared missions together, all the time between had them feeling fake. Getting to have you feels so foreign and unattainable that his brain writes it off as false memories when you aren’t in his hands. 

And that’s why he holds you all the more tightly when you’re in reach. He needs you cemented in his grip and sunk into every sense so you’re all he knows. No questions, no doubts, no loneliness, no hollowness, just the comfort of you. He gets his lips back on yours before he breaks.

You hook your thumbs into your shorts and underwear but it’s not quick enough for Ace. He grabs them in a tight fistful and yanks. Your spread thighs keep them from getting lower than the end of your ass and Ace whines into your mouth. Trying not to break the kiss, you lean onto your right leg and try to work the other out of your clothing. It’s a clumsy and messy affair, each of you using a hand to tug at the garments while the other is busy trying to feel and hold as much of each other as possible. You lean back to look and finally get the damn thing off and Ace chases you the whole way. Between the hot slide of tongue, the nipping on lips, and the dancing rolls of kiss and grind you manage to get your left leg completely free of clothing.

“Fuck, pretty, how -hhh-ah!- do you do that?” Ace moans breathlessly after you set your hips back on him.

“Do what?” You’re moving your clit up and down his shaft in torturously slow grinds, mind fuzzed with the feeling of your wetness making you glide so smoothly on him.

“Make me -mmnngh!- fuck-” You circle your clit around his sensitive head, turning his speech into a few heaving breaths and groans. “Make me forget everything.”

Your lips are back on his in a rush, too fast for you to get out all the loving words living in you. First it’s as insistent and firm as your hips are working him over. After a long minute though, he’s lost too much breath to do much more than pant and hump into you in a desperate chase to feel more and more. You begin laying quick kisses to his cheek and land one in the shape of a smile on the corner of his open mouth. You feel it curl up under the press of your lips. 

“You m-make me happy,” Ace admits, a twinge of nerves managing to show through all the arousal in his voice. You bump your nose to his gently. 

“You’re my happiness, Ace.”

He whines and screws his eyes shut even more tightly. You feel his cock throb heavily against you. Taking advantage, you change to little circles against him and feel the pressure of it tease at your clit and entrance. A hand snakes into your hair and grips, holding you steady to press your foreheads together. His eyes crack open to search yours for lies. Even in the rush of your grinding bodies, the eye contact is still and sturdy as steel.

“You can’t just say that,” Ace breathes.

You feel how close he is, even harder than before and thrusts getting stilted in an attempt not to cum. You set on that singlemindedly, needing to hear his breathy broken moans, feel him squirm and jerk, shove him straight into a headspace empty of all but bliss. You get your own hand in his hair and tug, earning a moan and more pleads. Busying your mouth with his neck, you begin sliding along his whole length at a quick pace. The burn in your thighs is nothing compared to the pressure building between your hips, getting tighter and brighter with every swipe.

“No, holy shit, so close, s’close -hah hahngg-“ Ace starts babbling, “wanna cum in you, I’ll do anything, I’ll -mnnngh- anything please, fuck, too good, so fucking wet, so -fuck- can’t, please no, no ‘m gonna cum-“

You suck and teethe at the sensitive spot behind his ear and twist your grip in his hair, sure that would throw him over. Instead he lunges forward to sink his teeth into your shoulder and his hands clamp onto your hips to hold them perfectly still. You’re reminded of the power in the man who falls apart for you. It makes you clench and gush against him with a throaty moan. He holds on for dear life through it, tensing and throbbing and leaking and just barely managing to hold off his orgasm.

Once he’s sure he’s relatively safe, he lets go of your shoulder and begins kissing over the slight indents. The gentle touch feels electric on the tender skin. He continues to hold your hips prisoner, imobile against his own. After some deep breaths he pulls back to look at you. 

“I don’t want it to ever stop,” his eyes are shiny and his lips tremble, but not as much as his words. “Please.” That commanding grip lightens. He slides his hands so he can massage his thumbs into the creases where your thighs meet your hips, sending sparks under your skin. “Just a little of you.”

Your resolve finally breaks and you agree. “Just the tip.”

“Thank you,” Ace rushes out. “Remind me to take you out and spoil you.”

You huff out a laugh even though you’re pretty sure he’s serious. 

“As if you don’t try already.” 

You shimmy forward and he rights you into his grip again; getting you on him with as much skin to skin as possible, just where you belong. It makes maneuvering a bit more difficult but neither of you care; you’re too busy enjoying each other’s heat and taste.

“No goofing, just romance.”

His arms encase you while yours frame him, taking time to touch skin and play with his fluffy hair. You’re firmly settled against him, laying with your cunt just in reach of his leaking head. Each breath presses you deeper into each other and lets pressure tease at your breasts. You take a moment to sneak fingers to your sides so you can tweak his nipple. The shocked hiss is one of your favorites. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” You reach back to grab hold of him and give him a few firm strokes, just to hear his pretty gasps. “The gentleman act isn’t as fun without the goofy contrast.”

“It’s not an a-aahhhhhhnn-“ You use your grip on him to circle his head on your entrance and press back just enough for the weeping tip to catch. After drawing out the sensation for a few more breaths, you move to sit up for a better angle to give him a shallow ride, but he stops you.

“Stay.” Even though it’s an order it sounds like a plea. At your confused look he continues, “If you stay like this I won’t be able to start fucking you if I lose myself.”

He feels you clench against his cockhead and it twitches in response, desperate to sink just a little deeper and letting you know with a pressure that hovers just under enough to finally slip into you. He knows “if” was too weak a word; the moment he feels the plush heat of your cunt he’s a goner. He’s had ambition and determination and stubbornness woven through parts of his being since his first breath. Yet they all fail him when he aims them at restraint here. Staring down a warlord was easier than fighting his bone deep desire for you. You just have a way of making him feel so full of life that it circles back around to an endless emptiness unless he’s smothered in your presence. Like any addict, the starting hits were no longer enough and he’d chase bigger and bigger ones til he had the endless high of being always near and always yours. His body being newer to such waves makes it easier for his instincts to take over him when more becomes not enough.

You feel the slick skin of his tip licking at your entrance with each breath you both take, so focused on every little motion you swear you can feel his heartbeat against your cunt. You start pressing back more.

“Wait,” Ace gasps. He plans a hand at the back of your head and turns it to face him. You meet blown pupils in shiny eyes, brows fighting not to pinch, freckles dancing with every word and expression. His warm breath tickles your swollen lips and you can taste its sweetness on your tongue. You want to keep looking around his pretty face but his pleading eyes have you locked in their heat. “Look at me.”

You barely think to give him a shaky nod. 

Ace reaches his other hand down to join yours on his shaft. It slips easily around your grip and holds gently, letting you keep control. Your hand feels so hot between his large one and the beating cock in your palm. Testing his grip, you slowly pump down his shaft, a slick sound from the dripping of your cunt and his precum sliding through your fingers, and make your way back up to the tip with a twisting wrist. His hand trembles around yours and he curses against your lips but he simply follows your movements.

Happy with the reaction, you continue on. He begins sinking in and his brows furrow further. The slow pace lets him feel every bit of texture, every flutter of the muscles of your entrance as they greet him. He’s in enough for you to encase his slit and you both feel the reward of a thick gush of precum spilling right into you. You breath out a syrupy “so good” and Ace fights again not to cum again - it gives him visions of fucking you fast and deep until you’re hiccuping those words and he’s pumping you full for real. He doesn’t want to be hasty though, he might miss a single second of this blissful torture.

His dick is pressed in to a catch, hovered right where his head flares widest. You hold him steady and give a little circle of your hips to feel him play with your stretching entrance.

“-hah- holy o-oh -nnnngh- thank you thank you,” he mumbles and moans between trying to breathe. His eyes roll back and screw shut for a moment before he fights them back open to watch your hazy eyes and slack jaw. He pulls you forward by the hand in your hair to press your foreheads together. Those fingers begin a haphazard massage as they switch between grasping for grounding and petting at you in adoration.

You take in a lungful of his breath and his musk and the ambient sex and shimmy just a little lower. At last, your cunt gives to let the rim of his head pop in, finally warming you from the inside. It immediately has you clench down and you can’t help but moan pathetically at finally having something to clench down on. The burning skin of his cockhead presses back at the twitching walls of your cunt, sending jolts up your spine.

“Y-you -ahh- you’re so-“ Ace is struggling against his scattered mind and an ocean of oxytocin to get you to understand how perfect you are and how his chest is so full it aches and how he’d fight through pirates, marines, the whole world government just to be this close to you again. All that comes out is a grumbling, fervent moan of “warm”.

You clench again at the word and he whimpers. You slip your hand off of his cock and out of his grip before using it to make him hold his cock for you. It gets the sticky mess all over him, which he quickly uses to twist his hand slowly up and down his shaft. You follow the movement for a few pumps then bring your hand up to your faces. You’d wanted a taste but you get a better idea. 

The moment the pads of your fingers touch Ace’s lips, he opens them just a bit wider for you. He can smell the heady mix of you both and his mouth waters eagerly. Slowly and deliberately, you sneak two fingers past his lips and press them on his tongue, his eyes burning into you the whole time. He’s quick to seal his lips and suck, hot tongue roving over your digits to collect every drop. You can hear the wet sound of his working hand get faster. You shove your fingers in to the last knuckle and he swallows them down greedily, moaning the whole time.

It’s impossible to keep yourself still; the fucked out look on Ace’s flushed face and the attention feeding but not sating your cunt make you squirm. All the movement from his jerking, constantly getting faster and firmer, has his cockhead massaging every nerve of your entrance and reverberated through your lips and clit, sinfully delicious yet maddeningly subtle. Your body is begging for him to force his way deep, split you around his thick cock, feel that pounding drag against every inch of your swollen and pulsing pussy. Instead, you have to settle for a slow tilt and pull of your hips, guiding the head sitting heavy in you to press more one way then the next. One particularly hard pump of his hand sends a strong shock to your clit and you grip him with your hands as tightly as your core wrings down around him. A heavy throb of his cock gushes more precum into you. 

Hearing how much he’s struggling to breathe fast enough through his nose, you pull your fingers from his mouth to instead pull at his hair. He’s mumbling out curses and praises between frantic kisses around your lips. The battle to stare into your eyes is becoming lost; Ace’s won’t stop rolling back and fluttering closed and losing focus. You can practically taste how close he is and it sets your whole body alight. You’re sure when he cums you’ll be able to feel the pleasure in your own body.

“Ace,” you call and his eyes crack open to see you again. His lashes are so dark and long and make his eyes look all the darker. “Need to feel you cum.” The words are rushed and urgent, trying to sneak around gasps and moans. “Love, I want you t-to -mnnn!- fuck me full.”

“Fuck!” The word “love” echoes violently around Ace’s head, and he’s so wound up and frayed he’s scared he may actually catch fire. His scramble is immediate - hands flying down to clamp onto your hips, fingers sinking deep into your skin, head thrown back giving you a full view of the flush hiding his freckles, the strong jaw working between going slack and gritting his teeth, but most importantly his hips thrust against his will. A mindless,  ravenous instinct locked in place and told him to rut until neither of you could move, until each thrust wrung more cum from him only to have it gush out of you because how could you possibly hold more?

Unfortunately, Ace had planned ahead. Your precarious alignment lets the first few thrusts sink him just a centimeter deeper, the relief of more of you only matched by the insatiable need to have all of you. Just when he feels the knot of pleasure pull his balls taught and tense his cock hard as a rod, a thrust knocks him loose.

Ace lets out an actual wail as he loses your heat. The bliss of his orgasm gets lost with it, ebbing away quickly and leaving him frantic.

“No fuck I- please I was so close, shit-,” Ace sobs right by your ear where he’s nestled himself close for comfort.

Needing to calm him and missing the feeling of him too terribly, your hand goes back to his cock while you distract him with sloppy open mouthed kisses. You find him easily and try to settle him with a few firm pumps. Ace is relieved as the feeling comes back fast and he’s already tensing and squirming and curling his toes as his orgasm beats to life in his cock again. 

 “That’s it, love,” you encourage. “I’ve got you.”

“Can’t, cumming cummingcumming-“ Ace chants urgently, kicked straight over the edge by your care. You rush to get him back inside you first but his cock’s already kicking in your grip. The first spray of cum lands where your thigh meets your ass and the second splashes over your pussy. By the third you’re pressing him back in. The whole time Ace is moaning high and gasping and pulling you to him like he needs you to breathe. He’s squirming and handsy, back arching off the bed while he takes any handful of you he can get. You feel the heavy pump of his next spurt of cum and fall to instinct yourself. You push your body down his and plop the weight of your hips in his lap, taking him in one swift motion and a heavy slap.

“Yes! Y-ye-nnnghah!- yesss thank you thank you two good so good s’good-“

You grind yourself in a heavy drag, forward and back, relishing having him all the way inside you. He feels thick enough to press your hips wide and long enough to punch at your lungs. Each grind has him play with your insides, lighting every nerve to make you feel like he’s filled you from head to toe. Each grind also has a fresh throb press at your cunt and spurt more sticky cum where his head twitches against your deepest spots. It has an unfamiliar pit swallowing the orgasm that’s nearly formed in your core, filling your nerves with a new life. You pick up the pace, needing more of that deep seated burn you can feel with each rub of him in the pit of your gut.

Ace whines as his sensitive cock has less and less to give yet keeps up its pumping. He’s beside himself, feels completely out of control of his muscles and voice as he grinds and moans and pleads, yet somehow his hands help press your hips harder into his, adding strength to your ride with every push and pull. He’s left slack jawed at the feeling, mouth hung open to let out every humid pant and desperate sound. He can feel your thighs clamp up around his hips, your fingers claw frantically at his chest, your hips begin to shake and jump. Most of all he can feel the coming orgasm sink into the muscles of your cunt as they swell and twitch and begin to clamp down on him like a vice. 

“Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop-“ now you’re chanting to him and he feels a new rush flow through his body. The ending orgasm is replaced with new interest amid the burning haze of overstimulation. Every fiber in him knows that he just needs to make you cum and he’ll know what heaven is like.

Ace sits up quickly to meet you, detouring to mouth over your swaying chest and enjoy a taste of your perked nipples before he gets some space to watch your blissed out face and writhing body. He begins thumbing at your clit while his other hand urges your hips up a few inches. For a moment you keep your hips moving but they freeze when Ace plants the hand that was on them behind him and his feet on the mattress and he starts to fuck up into you. They’re shallow, staccato slaps of his hips into yours, sloppily pushing his cum out of you to make stickier sounds, sending vibrations rattling through the underside of your clit still pressed under his thumb, and it’s exactly everything you ever needed. 

The deep pit his fat cockhead taps at again and again pulls taught until your whole cunt squeezes and then you feel like you burst. A breath you didn’t know you were holding rushes out of you with a holler of his name and you curl forward to cling to him. You try and ride out the high as it seizes you, shaking through your hips and legs and tightening its fist around your whole core. You don’t remember an orgasm ever massaging through you like this before - pulling heavy waves of clamp and release from your cervix to your entrance, each one making Ace’s cock feel even bigger and the pressure of that cock forcing you to stay open makes you nerves sing and dance tingles through your clit and up your spine and under your skin. 

You’re not the only one stuck at it’s mercy; Ace’s head is empty of all but the way the sensation ravages through his nervous system, taking his body from him and commanding it to hold you closer, harder, to fuck you faster, firmer. He knows his mouth is moving, but he’s not sure what it’s saying. His head is full of curses and wonder and “thank you”s and “love you”s but he has no clue what’s making it past. The only things he seems to hear are the roaring of his blood in his ears and the stream of praise tumbling from your lips. You gasp out, “Ace! Fuck, you’re so -hahn- perfect”, and he sears it in his brain forever. The way you pray your pleasure to him, bleed his name and “love” together as if they’re the same thing, it has his head spinning and his heart swelling and cock burning.

The pulses of your high get further apart so you force will into your legs and bounce with Ace to chase them. After a few though, his feet slip out straight and both hands are back on your hips to guide your thrusts and hold you tight. He’s kissing down the side of your face then hiding himself in the crook of your neck, where he can switch between kissing the taste of salt off your skin and huffing in lungfuls of the scent of your hair and skin and sweat and sex. He can taste his bliss on every moan he chokes out, can feel it throb closer with every clap of your hips he just clap needs a little more, needs the way clap your fingers tug his hair clap yes just like that and clap fuck, the way your pussy clap sucks him in clap so so close, just-

“Fuck, Ace, can’t breathe -hahnngh- too much, don’t let it stop -ah!- please, need you-“ 

He whimpers and crushes you in his hold, forcing you to sit still with him pressed as deep as he can go so he can feel every inch of you while he cums again. The first wave hits and he surges forward when his abs clamp tight, knees pulling up behind you to fully surround you. 

“Again?” You manage to gasp against his cheek.

“Yes,” he whines, “you’re just- fuck, fuck!”

It’s near painful to cum so hard so quickly after the last. His head is murky and floating at the strange sensation of the orgasm tearing through his muscles to make him grind and pump into you without having anything to gush out. Your body still seems happy enough with the offering though, completely in sync to milk out everything he could possibly give. 

It’s the perfect end to your high to be in your body enough to take in every bit of his high moans and mumbling and feel every bit of touch his instincts have him showering over you. He keeps nosing at your neck for comfort and tickling the sensitive skin there with kisses and words spoken right against your skin. His hands are deeply kneading the flesh of your hips, petting in trembling fingers and always pulling to keep your hips flush to his. His abs tense and jump, both with his stuttering breath and with the strong pulls of his dick every time it tries to force more out of him in a soul-deep need to fill you with him until he’s a permanent piece of you. His thighs are doing much the same, jostling you slightly against him from how he’s curled around you. Yes, this is exactly what you needed to cap your high and ease you back into reality. Especially with that deep voice of his showing off its range.

“Thank you, thank -nnngh- you, wanna be this close forever -ahhh- never -mm!- stop feeling you, love this, l-love y-y-hah!”

You guide him the whole time, petting his hair, kissing his temple, teasing his skin with your nails, and holding his back. The way he clings to you sets you ablaze but also lets you know how desperately he needs to feel held. His firm hold and your returning squeezes are the anchor that secures you both through the torrent and the drop from sharing bodies. Because of the affection, that drop is a landing in pure comfort and relaxation. Your muscles are all becoming liquid and you simply melt into each other and breathe. 

Ace may have never finished that thought out loud, but he continued it in the affection of his lips pressing so tenderly to your heated skin. He made it clear in the reverence of his hold on you, full of trailing fingertips worshipping your shape and gentle squeezes closer with warm and supportive palms. You understood from the cozy sway he set while drawing his temple up the side of your face to then skim the tip of his nose over your cheek and rest your foreheads together then find stillness. All the words he didn’t say came through in your shared breaths, which grew from humid puffs to a slow and smooth rhythm.

Just in case you missed the rest, he brushed his lips across yours, light enough to tickle before easing forward to mold them together. Your lips part to taste him once more and he indulges you, happily slipping his tongue between your lips for another dance. It’s unhurried how you kiss, lips firm and sure in how they press and drag together, tongues brushing slowly not to arouse but to simply enjoy. The slick sounds of the deep kisses ring in your ears in the quiet room along with the hushes of breath slipping between you two. Ace pulls in one particularly deep breath through his nose before breaking the kiss to sigh his happiness out. The whole thing is punctuated by one last sweet peck.

“I feel it too, Ace,” you promise.

His voice is thick when he whispers out once more, “Thank you.”

You rest your head on his shoulder and press a smile to his skin. Ace tilts his head just so to rest it on yours and closes his eyes to simply be. You’re not sure how long you stay sat in his lap holding him. Instead of the tick of a clock you have the swell of his breaths and the brush of his thumb. Now and again he’d start and leave a subtle sway or press kisses to your hair or squeeze you just a little tighter. You’d respond to it all in kind but his favorite was when he could feel a smile press your cheek into his collarbone or when you’d rest your hand over his pec just to better feel his heartbeat. 

Unfortunately, soreness begins to set in your hips and you have to move. Ace isn’t a big fan of the idea; you can tell from his grumble and his arms cinching around your waist. It's endearing, but no match for the protest in your joints.

“Ace, I’m sore,” you laugh out the complaint, too amused by his pouting. “Let’s lay down.”

“That I can agree to,” he says.

You doubt his words when you start to get off him and receive an indignant “hey”. 

“Who said you were allowed to get off?”

“Pretty sure I was just letting us both get off.”

“I helped,” he pouts.

“That’s an understatement,” you reassure with two quick pats to his cheek. “But for real, I gotta get off so we can get settled.”

“Agree to disagree,” Ace chimes with that maddeningly bright and charming smile of his. It crinkles his nose a moment and scrunches his eyes in a way that brings out their glimmer and you’re sure you’d never be able to say no to that face for long.

“Okay,” you sigh. “How are we going to do this?”

“Clumsily,” he answers without missing a beat and you laugh again.

“Okay, Commander, take the reins,” you say as you settle back into laying against him, happy to let him take over this clown show.

“Ooooo ‘commander’, huh? Wanna try calling me that next time?”

Instead of responding you give his back a half-hearted swat.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he reasons.

“I’m filing it away for later, but please Ace my poor hips. You’re gonna make me an old lady in my twenties,” you whine.

“At least you make a cute granny.” You can hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

“Move!” You laugh and he finally does.

He scoots you both back once, holding you tight through it while you giggle at the bumpy ride. Now back to the center of the bed, he shimmies for good measure and lays himself back. He holds his arms out expectantly and you just raise a brow at him.

“You’re gonna slip out.”

“I believe in you,” he says. He tried to be deadpan but his lips couldn’t resist the smile.

“There’s your first mistake,” you say and he just smiles wider.

You shift to the right so you can rotate your left leg out and down. You lean your weight on his chest for balance, a palm flat on each large pec, and slide your leg down and back right next to his. You shiver at the release in your joint and Ace shivers at the pressure on his chest and the jostle of your hips. His softened dick twitches in interest.

“Stop that, we need to sleep,” you reprimand with no real heat.

“I didn’t tell it to do that,” Ace deflects.

You chuckle and continue repositioning, leaning to the left this time. It feels just as nice when your right leg gets to be straight again and you can finally lay down. It feels a little strange to be lying directly on Ace’s middle instead of tucked to his side or spooning but it’s not unwelcome. It’s definitely not a permanent feature, though, and you tell him as much.

“Just for a while,” Ace promises. Much softer he adds, “Not ready yet.”

You hum in acknowledgement. Taking stock of your body, you feel a pleasant exhaustion and let it help you sink further into Ace. His hands rest gently on your back, one spread between your shoulder blades and one drawing shapes over your lower back. His thighs are so warm next to yours and the packed muscle feels so soft when he’s relaxed like this. The same goes for the pec currently being used as your pillow. Okay, maybe you could stay this way quite awhile; Ace is unfairly warm and comfortable and having him sit still half in you sates some instinct you didn’t know you had. 

“Blanket?” Ace asks.

“Dealer’s choice,” is your non-committal response.

With some reaching and finagling, Ace manages to get a hold of the sheets and flap them to lay over you. He leaves them so that they cover your legs but make it no further than the small of your back. It lets the slight chill of the room continue to cool you off without going so far as to make you cold. It’s absolutely perfect with his high body temperature radiating below you. Yeah, you’re pretty sure you could drift off into some of the best sleep of your life just like this.

A thought strikes you. 

“How did you stay hard that whole time?”

“I dunno,” he answers honestly through a yawn. Then he chuckles and adds, “maybe you just have a magic pussy.”

You laugh at the stupid joke, happy he’s relaxed enough in your relationship to joke more about sex now.

“Too bad you can’t go around testing that theory,” you sigh in mock sympathy.

Ace perks up and stares at you real strong. His eyes that were just fighting sleep are now full of life. You don’t say more and just let him look and stew on your words.

“Say it again but like I’m stupid?”

“That’s what I usually try to do.”

He barks a laugh.

“Damn, must be hard loving an idiot.”

“Not at all.” The tenderness that seeps from your words melts him straight through. Thinking better of leaving it (you know he knows you’re joking, but you also know that his mind is exceptionally cruel), you use the last of your energy to get up on your elbows and look him in the eyes. “You’re a dumbass sometimes, especially with those brothers of yours, but more than that you’re really smart.” You place a sweet kiss to his forehead. “And you’re strong and determined and reliable.” A kiss to one cheek. “And empathetic and sweet and thoughtful.” A kiss to the other one. “And you wanna know what you are more than anything else?”

“What?” His voice shakes and his eyes burn and he’s so exhausted from all the emotions of the night but they’ve also been the most precious things ever. 

You rest your forehead to his and take a deep breath, savoring the moment.

“You’re very very easy to love.”

A kiss binds your words and lips.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed 🥰 Please let me know if you did and criticisms are also welcome 🤍

Restarting tag list because Overthinking lol please lmk if you want to be on one! Even if you think it's obvious. I am: Stupid and Anxious 💀

Between Two Points Masterlist

Masterlist

[to-the-stars8]

The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

Master & Servant

You either had become too comfortable in your position or you’d gotten too used to scolding the kids; either way, Bruce suddenly found himself at the end of your lectures. As the boss, he should have nipped it in the bud, but, truthfully, he liked it. He enjoyed the way you reigned him in when he got a bit too silly or arrogant—Even Alfred had come to appreciate his behavior a bit more afterward (especially when your reprimands pertained to Alfred doing work a man his age shouldn’t have been doing).

The kids had gone to school, and Bruce, after a night of festive activities, decided it would be best to stay home. He was in the middle of signing some documents when you knocked on the door to his study before entering with a cool expression on your face. Bruce didn’t bother to look up as you crossed the room to his desk, thinking you were there to cure a bit of your boredom. When a lacy pair of red panties slid in front of his paperwork he had to look up at you. 

“What’re you doing?” He said, pushing his chair away from his desk. Were you coming onto him?

You were quick to reach across and pull him back close to you. “Not so fast there, hon’. We have to talk.”

“I’m starting to think we do if this is how you seduce me,” Bruce said as he threw the underwear back toward you. 

You sighed before saying, “These—” You waved around the little piece of fabric. “—Were from your date last night.”

Bruce only managed out an, “Oh.”

“Oh. Would you like to know where I found them?” You spat out. No, he wouldn’t, but he wasn’t about to start answering rhetorical questions. “In the kids' playroom.” 

“Shit,” Bruce seethed out. He had been to a gala earlier in the evening, and, to keep the reporters at bay, decided to bring a pretty lady home. The sex was to relieve some stress, and, usually, he would be careful about where he had his intimate relations. But, he was so pent up that he must have been a bit reckless. That wasn’t like him at all, and he would ensure that it never happened again.

“Don’t leave things like this in there again, please,” You gritted out, tone stern and curt. “It’s incredibly irresponsible. Especially around young children, Mr. Wayne!”

“I know, you don’t need to tell me.” Bruce felt a lightness in his chest, almost fluttering. 

You threw the underwear in his lap. “Apparently I do! Imagine if Duke or Damian found that?”

Bruce was mortified at the thought, but mumbled, “We could always say it was yours.”

If looks could kill Bruce would be dead. You were not in the slightest bit amused and told him as much. You mentioned that the underwear wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg of the issue at hand. 

“You can fuck wherever you want, Bruce, but don’t do it around my kids. They don’t need to get caught up in your fucked up sex life!”

He knew it would be a bad time to point out that they were actually his kids. Overall, he agreed and promised you to never do it again. That seemed to pacify you, more so when he apologized for suggesting that they could pass off the panties as yours. 

 You expressed in a more calming tone, “I know you love the kids, but they’re already having a hard time coping with the rumors about you in the media. Don’t make it any worse by bringing it off the pages into their safe spaces.”

This is what Bruce liked about your reprimands, they brought reality back to him when lost it. You seemed done giving him a rightfully deserved scolding and began to take your leave. 

He called out to you, though, beckoning you back. When you approached, Bruce rounded his desk to get a bit closer to you. “Thank you for…being blunt with me.”

“Someone needs to,” You were quick to say. “Though, I’m starting to wonder who's the boss.”

Bruce smiled and chuckled, agreeing that the line had been blurred in moments like these. Looking down at the underwear in his hands, he finally got the courage to ask, “How’d you know they were my dates?” 

You smirked and laughed a little as you began to leave. “I don’t wear cheap panties. Do you need a lesson on that, too?”

[semisasseater]

Baby, you’re so preciou-ciou-ciou-cious.

Boyfriend! Thanos x Boyfriend! Nam gyu

Summary: poor nam gyu was never able to paint his nails and thought he’d never be able to, until he asked his boyfriend to paint them.

Tw: mentions of drugs, fluff, angst if u squint, low self esteem, soft intimacy, acts of service, just cute stuff, let me know if i missed anything!

authors note: i HAD to write this once i saw someone ask for this.. i literally love thangyu so much people who don’t can argue with me !! i swear thangyu is my little babies who do no wrong…? anyways after im done with my other requests i might just also focus on writing thangyu!! also gabby hates me yall </3 (im lying i think)

Not proofread!

Word count: 579

Nam gyu had always wanted to paint his nails. It was a small, silly dream, but a dream nonetheless. Every time he tried, though, it ended in disaster—streaks of polish smeared across his fingers, uneven globs drying in clumps, and an overall mess that left him more frustrated than satisfied. His hands shook too much from all the drugs he had taken in the past with his boyfriend, a lingering reminder of mistakes he couldn’t erase.

Tonight, though, as he pushed open the door to Thanos’s room, he saw something that made his heart flutter.

There, sitting on the floor, back against the bed, was his boyfriend, carefully painting his own nails. A deep violet polish coated his finger, matching his vibrant purple hair. His movements were precise, steady, effortless.

Nam gyu hesitated in the doorway before quietly stepping inside, lowering himself next to Thanos. He fiddled with the hem of his oversized green-and-white shirt, biting his lip before finally whispering,

“Please paint my nails…”

His voice was small, almost embarrassed, and when Thanos turned to look at him, his expression was one of mild confusion.

“You want your nails painted?”

Nam gyu nodded, his dark eyes filled with something vulnerable, something hopeful.

Thanos studied him for a moment before shrugging. “Okay I’ll do yours after alright?”

Another nod, and Nam gyu settled in, watching closely as Thanos finished painting his last nail. There was something oddly calming about the way he did it—the slow, careful strokes, the way he blew on them after to dry. It was fascinating, almost hypnotic.

When Thanos finally turned to him, he patted the space in front of him. “Okay come here”

Nam gyu shifted so that he was fully facing his boyfriend. Thanos reached for the small collection of polish bottles beside him and glanced up. “What color do you want?”

There was a pause before Nam gyu murmured, “Black”

Thanos nodded, picking up the black polish and opening it with ease. He reached for Nam gyu’s hand, but as soon as he touched it, he felt it—how badly it trembled. The shaking was worse up close, uncontrollable. It made something in Thanos’s chest ache with guilt.

Without a word, he gently took Nam Gyu’s finger, holding it steady in his own hand before carefully applying the first stroke of polish.

Nam gyu watched, his lips parting slightly. He had never been good at sitting still, but in this moment, he felt frozen, caught in the warmth of Thanos’s hands, the way he handled him with such patience.

Thanos worked in silence, finishing the left hand before moving to the right, his grip never faltering. He didn’t rush, didn’t get frustrated, even when Nam gyu’s fingers twitched every now and then.

And then, finally, it was done.

Thanos blew gently on Nam gyu’s nails before leaning back with a satisfied nod. “Wait for them to dry okay?”

Nam gyu stared at his hands, his breath catching. It wasn’t just that they were painted perfectly—it was that someone had done this for him. Someone who cared.

“Thank you…” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Thanos simply smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the top of Nam gyu’s head. “Of course anything for my love”

For the first time, Nam gyu didn’t feel ashamed of his shaking hands. Because for once, they had been held with love.

And for the first time, his nails were painted perfectly.

All thanks to his amazing boyfriend.

@semisasseater

Taglist : @ancientvamp

[halowishes]

january favs!

(first recs of the year!!!!)

ships: sakuatsu (if unspecified) ft. an oikage fic

six steps to a smile

e. 18.6k. 5+1 canon compliant.

5+1 of kiyoomi’s adorable pout leading to relationship milestones. i (unfortunately) can’t remember the last time i read a fic without even a little bit of angst. i feel like i never see friends to lovers skts! i do love tension but my heart swells at moments like “i’ll give you anything you want and you don’t even have to ask”. the sweetest boys ever.

the sakusa kiyoomi drunkness scale

m. 4.3k. canon established relationship.

atsumu meets six-drink kiyoomi. chaos ensues. such a lighthearted and short read about their relationship. i loved the little details of the characters and just how well they know each other. they’re so in love and it makes me sick (i treasure these guys).

shootin’ stars & satellites

e. 20.1k. third years skts.

itachiyama and inarizaki have a volleyball camp before their graduation!! this fic was a religious experience. i can’t describe how it made me feel. hilarious, beautifully written, sexy, gentle, and oh so tender. i honestly LOVE everything about this fic. expect this on my end of the year favs.

hold on, who’s got a boyfriend now? (yea right)

t. 9.3k. haikyu hospital.

resident cardiologist atsumu has a boyfriend! the rest of the hospital tries to find out who it is by creating a betting pool!!! this was extremely silly and light. i LIVE for gossip and i imagine hospital gossip is like the michelin star of work gossip. so (if i was there) you bet your ass i’d be betting!

daybreak

t. 8.1k. mid skip.

after a break up, kiyoomi decides to hike up mount fuji with surprise guest miya atsumu! i admire the idea of the u19 camp having a group chat and reunions together :’). also kiyoomi’s family running a tea business… it is so perfect for the rich kid hc. such a sweet and refreshing fic with some introspection!!

bane of my existence, object of my desires

e. 6.6k. regency era au.

messy skts who just can’t live without each other… you know i had to have it. in true skts fashion, this story was dramatic and chaotic and horny. but i mainly read this bc i loooove bridgerton so imagining them in their fancy suits and mansions scratched an itch in my brain.

high tides and sleepless nights

e. 71.8k. msby 4 go to the beach!

atsumu teaches kiyoomi how to swim so he can enjoy the beach <3 as someone who can’t swim, i find this plot so romantic. im gagged it took kiyoomi that long to realize the feelings between them were Real. but that just meant the ANGST was divine. (along with the characterization, dialogue, and happy ending). summer skts for the win!

go slowly with me

g. 5.6k. canon compliant slice of life.

ah yes, the joys and horrors of sharing your music taste with others. when the jackals bring a speaker to their post-practice cool downs, atsumu decided to curate an effortless playlist. along the way he learns kiyoomi listens to abba and that he wants to spend the rest of his life with him. tooth rotting fluff. dancing in the kitchen. they are domestic.

this is how you lose the time war

m. 15k. end of the world/ sci-fi au.

when kiyoomi wakes up on the last day before time loops itself, he somehow makes his way to his ex lover’s doorstep. god. i’m not ready to really think this one over (i lowkey read it in a haze), but it’s a wonder. this skts dynamic was intense, grand, and overpowering. snuzz is truly a wizard with her words.

such a constellation was he to me

e. 11.8k. canon universe.

two words: kiyoomi tattoos. two more words: body worship. truly, what more do you need? i love reading body worship because it just reminds me how special sex can be. it’s vulnerable and open and appreciating and so human. it’s nice to read a fic that highlights that. the tattoos & lore were just a bonus :P

ishigaki island, 2025 — oikage

e. 22.4k. forced proximity exes to lovers.

iwaizumi & ushijima wedding = oikage best men. only problem is they haven’t spoken in years since they broke up. and now they’re 4th wheeling on an island getaway with their best friends. i really loved this oikawa and characterizations, some classic tropes, and (more) sun!!!

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

"I'm just happy that James and Lily are finally together because they deserve it and I love them both"

And that was Remus. The poet that would find the beauty in insignificant things. The kid that believed in happy endings and true love. The kind of person to be happy just because others were happy. How gorgeous was that?

The way he was smiling now made Sirius shiver. But maybe it was because he was dizzy of too much smoke.

Smoking with Remus was his new favorite thing. Not because he wanted to be cool or he actually enjoyed cigarettes. It was because of Remus. A million times Remus.

Because he got to be close to him. Because it was something intimate between them. Because Remus spoke and told Sirius things and he laughed only for him. And Remus was beautiful when he laughed.

"I love James" Sirius declared, taking a drag of his cigarette.

It was easy to love James. It was wrecking to love Remus.

"And Lily?"

Sirius shrugged, making an 'eh' sound.

Remus smiled and shook his head.

Sirius was the idiot that made Remus smile. It had always been like that. Like a bufoon making his prince laugh of how silly he was. Because the prince would never fall for the bufoon.

"I just think that James deserves the best"

"And Lily is not the best?"

Sirius let out some smoke into the night sky.

"Maybe the perfect match for him is somewhere else. Out there. James is just obsessed with Evans"

Remus shook his head "I don't think so"

Sirius looked at him expecting an explanation "Why?"

Remus bit his lip, so deliciously "Because if he's meant for someone else, he would have been over her a long time ago. His heart keeps circulating back to Lily. Over and over. They keep coming back to each other. Over and over"

How did Remus always manage to say smart things and all that came out of Sirius’s mouth was bollocks?

And Remus took a drag of his cigarette in thought. Sirius wished for a second that he was thinking about their similar story. Back to each other. Over and over. And Sirius’s heart still felt the same. It hadn't stop beating for Remus. Never.

"That's ridiculous" Sirius said because, see? He was a scared idiot who said bollocks "Evans just tosses him around like a toy and James is a masochistic who lets her. One day, yes. Another day: 'I hate you'"

Remus's eyes fixed on Sirius. That kind of look that made Sirius feel naked in front of him.

"I know the feeling" Remus whispered mostly to himself, finally looking away.

"What?"

And Sirius was aware of how Remus blushed. The shade of pink that blended well with his freckles. Sirius wanted to be able to count them all and know them by heart.

"You just don't know the feeling, Sirius" Remus cleared his throat "You've never been in love"

Sirius almost laughed. Because the feeling he had always had for Remus couldn't be anything but love. He would sacrifice himself for him. He would go to the end of the world for him.

"And you do, Moons?" Sirius asked trying to hide away his hope.

Remus was quiet for a while, he smiled to himself and spoke : "No... I just read many romance novels"

Sirius giggled. His little nerdy Moony.

"They are very descriptive about feelings and such"

Sirius tucked his head to the side. "Is fiction"

Remus shook his head.

"You are an idiot"

As long as Sirius was his idiot.

"Love?" Sirius scoffed "We are too young for that. We are meant to enjoy life and have fun" he opened his arms to emphasize "Then when we are like thirty or so we will worry about spouses and stuff like love"

He said that because 1) it was his facade, always had been. The idiot womanizer who was too cool to fall in love, and 2) Because it was true. And he wanted as much time with Remus he got before he found someone to settle in. A nice partner that would make him happy.

Sirius’s heart ached at the thought.

Sirius would end up alone. Because nobody would ever stand him. Not truly.

Remus eyes moved around Sirius thinking about what he was saying. He chuckled at the end and shook his head again.

Because Sirius was the bufoon.

"You're an idiot, Pads"

As long as he said it affectionately like that.

Sirius grinned "And you know what is my idea of fun right now?" he raised an eyebrow.

Remus swallowed.

"What can that be?" he smiled.

Sirius scooped closer. He saw Remus's chest breathing rapidly. His cheeks went more pink and his lips parted.

God he loved provoking that on Remus.

Although that was Sirius provoked in people. Desire. He knew he was good looking because of his family's rotten but gorgeous genes.

However that's all that people saw in him. A handsome boy.

And Remus was gay, so he naturally reacted. He closed his eyes waiting for the kiss.

But Remus was not in love with him. Nobody was actually prepared for the train wreck Sirius was.

The second his lips touched Remus, Sirius was doomed. He was intoxicated. He wanted to bury himself onto Remus. Melt with him. Be his and be wrecked by him. Over and over.

Fuck, Sirius was selfish. And he knew Remus didn't feel the same. And he knew someday he would want more than kissing his best friend. And Sirius shouldn't be getting more and more attached.

But he was selfish.

He kissed Remus and tried to pretend he wasn't getting weak in the knees with the mere touch on the lips. And he pretended he didn't saw stars when Remus opened his mouth for him.

And he pretended his brain wasn't whispering: "Mine, mine, mine, mine" and "Moony, Moony, Moony, Moony"

Over and over again.

[lavenderchqn]

✧・┆drunk on love — lyney

— it's the evening of lyney's birthday when you receive a call to retrieve your drunk partner from the lovely hands of his friend group's.

this piece is set after the story of red lines, although it works as a standalone read~

content warning: lyney is drunk. he's silly, but he's drunk.

Your eyes are barely open when your phone rings. You’ve been trying to finish correcting your master thesis for the entire evening, after sending your boyfriend out to spend his birthday with his friends. Taking a glance at the caller, as well as the time, you notice it’s Wriothesley. 

You answer the phone, worry already seeping into your mind. “Hello?”. There are so many things that could’ve gone wrong… given Lyney’s ability to handle alcohol. 

“Hi,” Wriothesley says breathlessly, sounding more than exhausted. “Sorry to be calling you so late.” 

“It’s alright, what’s up?” You interrupt, drumming your other hand on your keyboard. “You sound miserable, man.” 

“Tell me about it…” He says voice muffled as if he’s covered his mouth with his hand. “I hate being the designated driver on nights like these.” 

“They made you the designated driver?!” Shock fills your voice. “You didn’t drink, did you?” 

“I didn’t, don’t worry—“ Wriothesley laughs. “Quite amusing to see this lot completely drunk. I mean, Neuvillette has been crying about Furina breaking one of her nails for the entire time.” 

“Ahh, gotcha.” You nod to yourself, hoping that the man will get back on track soon. “Do you need my help with something?” You ask. Wriothesley calling you is not something that happens regularly. At most, he'd only send you embarrassing pictures of your boyfriend. 

“Lyney’s been calling out for you since he took a shot of whiskey. I don’t think I can take him, Furina and Neuvillette home without a drink myself in between…” 

As if on cue, Lyney — the man in question — seems to notice he’s being talked about that. You can hear a sudden movement followed by a cheerful laugh. 

“Hi, baby!~” Lyney’s voice seems more joyous than ever. Yeah, that man is as drunk as a kite. “I miss you so so so much!!” 

“Having fun?” You ask, a small smile gracing your face. Given how stressful the winter season was for everyone involved, with the ever-nearing period of defending their scientific titles approaching, you felt nothing but happiness that Lyney went out to celebrate his birthday with his friends. 

“Not the same without youu…” With how he's speaking, there must be a small pout on his face — his eyebrows knit. “No, no no… Wrio, let me talk man…” Ah. Wriothesley must be making a deal with your boyfriend to retrieve his phone. 

“As I was saying,” The sole sober person speaks. “You’d do me a huge favour by coming to pick your prince.” 

“I’ll go put on my shoes and be on the way.” You say. “Just send me the address. Oh, and don’t allow Lyney to drink more, alright?” 

“Will do. Thanks, and sorry, again” 

The message containing the group’s location comes the moment you end the call. Dressing yourself in anything comfortable, you’re ready to head out and take Lyney’s car. Ever since getting your driver’s license, he swore the only car you’d ever need is his. 

Luckily the road is not too crowded, nor glistened from the rain despite all the inside jokes of Neuvillette’s tears causing it. You arrive without much issue, already spotting the group as you pull up to the parking lot. 

Wriothesley is busy balancing an asleep Furina and Neuvillette who keeps on sobbing, head supported on his shoulder. Lyney’s standing on his two feet, zipping up his jacket. Lovely. Perhaps getting him back to the house will be easier than expected. He seems to spot you, approaching as you park the vehicle. 

His eyes curve into straight lines as he breaks into a smile. Swaying from side to side, he throws himself into your embrace, burying his face into your shoulder. “Missed youuu”

“One child less to care for?” You ask Wriothesley while patting Lyney’s head.

“Unless you turn the car around…” He chuckles, readjusting Neuvillette’s position. “Thanks for the help, really.” 

“Happy to help, Wrio.” With that, you split — each of you heading to their car. With the way you’re both basically dragging other people, it does take a while. “Message me when you’re home!” You shout as he’s settling his friends into the backseat. 

“You too!”   

“You’re going need to let go of me, Love.” You say, still patting Lyney’s head. It’s been almost five minutes of you standing out in the cold, your partner too clingy to allow you to drive the two of you back. “I promise you, once we’re home you’ll get all the cuddles.” 

The blonde turns his head, looking directly at you. It’s unfair, you think, that even underneath this lighting, he still looks like a statue. His hair is unusually curly, and a pair of glasses is balancing on his nose. Not to mention the pure delight in his violet eyes, matching the warm, albeit drunk smile. 

“Pinky?” He extends his finger, looking determined. Of course, he’d make you promise something as silly as this. You quickly interlock with one of your own, moving afterwards to open his door. 

“Get in,” You smile, holding the door for him. “You’re the passenger prince today.” 

All you can hear back is the tiny gibberish thoughts of a drunken man. You help him with the safety belt, and only when you confirm he’s actually buckled in, do you take your designated driver’s seat. 

For the first time during your ride, it’s completely quiet. You’re unsure if Lyney’s fallen asleep, but checking the overhead mirror tells you his eyes are very much awake. His head sways slightly as if he was listening to music. 

“What’s on the playlist?” You ask, leaning your head towards him, as to signal you’re talking to him. 

“Marry you.” 

You blink, momentarily distracted by his response. “Marry you? That’s what's in your head right now?" You tease, stealing a quick glance in his direction. 

Lyney nods enthusiastically, though the movement is a bit too exaggerated in his tipsy state. “Yep! As Bruno says… It’s a beautiful night,” he slurs with a dreamy smile. “I wanna marry youuuuu.” His voice, although off-key, is filled with unmistakable affection, and it takes everything in you not to laugh.

“You’re so drunk, baby.” You say with a chuckle, shaking your head at him missing some of the words.

“But I’m honest!” He protests, his pout returning. “I think we should… should get married. Like, tomorrow. Or maybe today? We’re both free today!” 

“Lyney,” You sigh, though you can’t hide the grin tugging at your lips. “You’re not even going to remember this conversation in the morning.” 

“Will too!” He insists, crossing his arms in a huff, though his coordination betrays him and he almost smacks himself in the face. “I’ll remember everything. Like how much I love you, and how I wanna spend all my birthdays with you. And how…” His voice trails off, softer now. “How you’re the best thing in my whole world.” 

Your heart squeezes at his words, even if they’re fuelled by alcohol. “Alright, my sweet drunk prince,” You say gently. “Let’s get you home first, and then we can talk about this… grand proposal of yours.” 

“Promise?” He mumbles, already starting to doze off. 

“I promise,” You reply softly, glancing at him through the mirror again. His eyelids are drooping, his lips curled into a content smile as sleep claims him. 

date of posting — february 2nd 2025

[blouisparadise]

There were some amazing bottom Louis fics posted or completed during the month of January. We really hope you enjoy this list and show these fics love. Happy reading!

1) Lucky Number Nine | Not Rated | 2,706 words

“Elle, I only ever wanted to be two things when I got older, Hot as shit and a criminal.” “Why a criminal?” She asks. “Well, I-” Louis is cut off by a ping on his phone. He looks down at it and reads it. “Shit, Shit, Shit! Elle, hand me my bag please and spritz me. The car is here!” She does just that, giving him four spritz of their shared floral VS perfume. Louis leaves and walks downstairs to find a very nice and very expensive car. He smiles wide and gets in eagerly. The driver greets him and hands him a small bottle of Fireball. What?

2) I Miss You, I'm Sorry | Explicit | 2,871 words

Note: The main pairing is Louis/Zayn Malik.  

Louis spends some time with zayn in his hotel room after his LA show. they smoke. they fuck.

3) What A Life We'd Have (I've Got So Much To Give) | Explicit | 3,610 words

They made a silly bet—really, it was ridiculous. Harry had bet Louis he couldn’t learn how to drive Delilah, his 18-wheeler because of the gear shift, so Louis bet him he couldn't learn how to give a good massage. The loser has to do the dishes and laundry for two weeks and well—here they are.

4) The Uni Party | Mature | 10,601 words

“What’s the point of going to a party sober?” he’d said earlier, tugging Harry by the hand into the kitchen of their flat. Harry had rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue, watching as Louis lined up the tequila shots like he was about to take part in an Olympic event.

5) Time It Right, Ensure the Passage of Youth Bids Farewell | Mature | 12,202 words

Harry and Louis join a frat, and they are like, totally not into each other like that!

6) His Comet | Not Rated | 14,390 words

Everyone, and everything has an origin story; something that defined the way they are now, how they act, and the things they do. There's also an ending to every story, but what about the inbetween? The things in the middle that we don't know about?

7) Pathos | Mature | 26,566 words

In 1760s London, amidst the grandeur of gilded estates and the shadowy intrigues of high society, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are heirs to two of the city's most esteemed families. To the outside world, Harry and Louis present a complicated relationship-a bond that borders on disdain, peppered with moments of what could pass as brotherly camaraderie. Yet, behind closed doors, their connection defies the strict conventions of their world. Beneath the facade of disdain lies an undeniable bond, forbidden and fraught with danger.

8) Leave The Light On (I’m Coming Home) | Explicit | 42,793 words

In Louis’ twenty-two years of life, she had never questioned her sexuality. Up until now she had only ever been with boys and never had second thoughts about it. Although, nothing had ever given her a reason to. That is, until she met Harry.

9) Fragments of Forgotten Lives | Explicit | 160,960 words

Louis has been missing for over a year, but the first thing he remembers is waking up just a few weeks ago. Everything before that is a blur - no memory of where he’s been or who he was. Now, trying to rebuild his life in Manchester, he finds solace in therapy and a deepening connection with a fellow survivor. When Harry, a stranger to Louis but someone from his forgotten past, recognises him on the street, everything shifts. Despite the amnesia, something about Harry feels familiar, like a lifeline. As fragments of his lost memories begin to resurface in vivid, unsettling nightmares, Louis clings to the comfort Harry brings. Together, they embark on a journey to uncover the truth of his missing year, unlocking hidden secrets, unspoken bonds, and a past that refuses to stay buried.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[ningningsdream]

expensive friendship | part six: waffles & study

main masterlist | ef masterlist

pairing: art major!fem reader x rich kid!chenle

genre: college/university au, social media au (some written parts), fluff, angst, slow burn(ish)

summary: your mysterious aura makes you the talk of the school as a new transfer, and chenle is intrigued to see if what people say about you is real. or in which, chenle pays you to hang out with him.

[WRITTEN PART IN THE MIDDLE AND AT THE END]

the pouring rain and grey clouds contrasted with the warm and cozy shop you were in. sitting at your favorite table at young waffles, you were waiting for your partner for the art class project and reading through your research, making sure you didn't miss something.

the doors of the shop opened, making the bell above it ring, "welcome to young waffles!", your best friend, julie, greeted. she's been working part time here for almost two years now and she was the main culprit for your group's obsession over waffles.

you waved, recognizing your classmate. renjun greeted your friend back along with a slight bow before joining you at your table, "hey.", he said, his voice almost cracking out of anxiety.

"hi.", you greeted back.

"this place is much cozier and bigger than i thought.", he commented, removing his bag and coat before taking a seat, "have you ordered yet?"

"no, i was waiting for you.", you replied, handing him one of the two menus on the table.

"what do you recommend?"

before you could answer, your best friend had stopped at your table with two plates of waffles and two drinks on a platter.

"we didn-"

"it's on the house.", julie said, interrupting a-now-surprised-renjun, "it's your usual, y/n, and since i didn't what you would order, y/n's classmate, i made you our most popular items."

"renjun, this is my best friend, julie. and julie, this is my art project partner, renjun.", you quickly introduced, both of your worlds colliding in a way.

"nice to meet you, you really didn't have to...", renjun said, gesturing to his plate and drink.

"you really didn't have to.", you added, looking at your friend with eyes she knows all too well.

"oh please, doyoung also insisted.", julie replied to you with a small smile and a playful eyeroll before turning towards renjun, "it is really nice to meet you, renjun. please take care of our y/n."

you hid your face in embarrassment. you loved your best friend and you were touched by the fact that she wanted to help you get along with renjun but she had the tendency to act like a mama bear. you only dared to look back at your classmate when you heard the footstep of your friend, gradually getting farther.

"i'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable. i used to work here from time to time so i know the owners well. they give me free stuff sometimes but i pay most of the times. i'm not taking advantage of this shop, do not worry."

renjun chuckled at your response. it was the most he'd heard you talk and it was because you were trying to justify a kind gesture in case it looked suspicious. he started realizing how silly he was for fearing you, maybe you weren't that scary after all.

chenle pushed open the door of the little café, his head scanning the place,"welcome to young waffles!", a female worker greeted him. he politely greeted her back before walking towards his friend.

the closer he got to your table, the clearer he could see what renjun said about your aura. though you were smiling at something his friend said, your smile wasn't over the top or exaggerating, your laugh was suave and didn't have that high pitch sound that he often found annoying in other people.

"hey, renjun.", chenle greeted to make his presence known.

"oh hey, you're right on time, we're practically done.", renjun said, acknowledging his friend's arrival, "i'll keep sketching a few things when i get home and send them to you for the presentation."

"great, thanks renjun.", you smiled, grateful for his commitment to your shared project.

"i'm chenle, zhong chenle.", chenle said, holding out his hand towards you. renjun froze and gave his friend a look as if to say 'don't embarrass me'.

"i'm y/n, y/l/n y/n. nice to meet you.", you said, taking his hand in yours to shake it. your graps was gentle but confident.

"technically, we already met.", chenle rectified in a playful tone.

it didn't seem to bother you, "oh right, you were there last time as well.", you were talking about your first study session with renjun, which he crashed with his two other friends.

"yeah, want to grab some hotpot with us? renjun is paying."

the older chinese almost choke on air at his friend's proposal. his eyes were so big they almost jumped out of their holes.

a sudden car honking outside captured everyone's attention. you recognized mark's car and him in the driver's seat, waving at you.

"i can't. i have a work thing to take care of.", you replied, letting go of chenle's hand, which you didn't know you were still holding all this time. you put your laptop in your bag, before grabbing your jacket, "see you later, renjun.", you hurried out to not make mark wait any longer, not without waving goodbye at julie before exiting the café.

renjun and chenle watched you run to mark's car with a smile so big they thought you were another person, "she has to go to work at this hour?", chenle asked outloud. it was almost nine.

"i heard her family is kind of struggling and that's why she had to transfer. because they didn't have enough money to pay for her previous school...", renjun said, heart filling with empathy as one of the rumors he's heard about you may be true.

"i see, and is that her boyfriend or coworker?", the blond asked, eyes following the car driving away.

"i don't know.", renjun shrugged, not really caring about the answer as his eyes followed the car until it was too far to be seen. he suddenly turned towards his friend and slapped his arm, "what is wrong with you?!!"

chenle winced, rubbing his arm, "what? what was that for??"

"why did you invite her to hot pot?"

"to be polite."

"since when are you polite?"

"what the fuck? im always polite???"

"you know what i mean...", renjun looked at his friend, dead in the eyes, "you don't issue invites unless you really want the person to come."

chenle shrugged, "i wanna see what all the fuss around her is about."

"chenle... you're in your bored era again?", renjun sighed, tilting his head to the side and giving him a disapproving look.

"wha- bored era? no?", chenle's voice got higher and higher after each question, showing his confusion.

"you always get those every three to four months.", renjun rolled his eyes, "if you're bored, just hit up one of your ex hook ups or something. you'd have better luck there because if what i've heard is true, unless you have a job offering that would help her pay her rent, then she won't have any time for you."

unknowingly, renjun may have sparked an idea in that big head.

a/n: seeing the nct movie tonight imma cry for sure 🥹

[taglist: @spacejip @injvns @belleilichil @dearlyminhyung @t-102 @champagne1221 @jae-n0 @nahyuckers @dorritoni @renjunoya @winwintea @defzcl @mxnhoeuwu @myfavoritedelusion @usahanami ]

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[naffeclipse]

HEY HEY NAFF!! It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been in your little box to cause havoc. This is going to be a little bit of a jumbled one. Starting off with I absolutely love your new background head image (if that’s even what it’s called lol) Not a question, but just wanted to point it out. (I’m madly in love with the new AU, by the way.)

TO MY ACTUAL ASK! 🙌 so i’ve been scrolling around and looking at some silly little interactions that orca!eclipse has with his different Y/Ns and wanted to turn the focus back onto photographer Y/N. Now I have quite the sensitive gums, and sometimes I will start bleeding from them if I just end up, sucking on a tooth too hard, or my tongue. And sometimes, when I smile, I do tend to startle anyone who is looking.

I’m curious to see how you’d imagine how eclipse would react if Y/N smiled at him as he did a silly trick to impress his birdie. But caught sight of red staining their teeth, the red iron dripping a tad. (in this scenario photographer YN is probably in a bit of a warmer climate where they can have their mask off.)

Hey!! Aw, thank you, I love my new header too! @deliasmoothie did a lovely job <333

Eclipse would simply assume the photographer has just finished a well-earned meal. Blood in teeth is no big deal, he gets that after a hearty seal—until he mentions that the photographer must have had a good hunt and the conversation reveals that, uh, yeah, sometimes they just bleed in their mouth a little. It's fine!

Eclipse, upon learning this:

Cue his fretting and concern while the photographer explains that it's really fine, they're not wounded or in pain. It just happens. Eclipse would still insist on looking inside the photographer's mouth to see for himself.

[fairy-gyatt-mother]

just dance, mitchell!

MITCHELL TRIES 'JUST DANCE 2'

Mitchell walked down the stairs, sleep still weighing his eyes down. He heard giggling from the living room.

“What’s this about, then?,” he asked, rubbing his eyes. Annie and you were standing in front of the TV, with wide smiles, looking like children on Christmas morning.

“Mitchell!,” Annie exclaimed. “We,” she said, gesturing between you and her, “got ourselves ‘Just Dance 2.’”

“Dance to what?,” he asked, his voice still rough and mind still slow with sleep.

“‘Just Dance 2’, Mitchell, ” Annie said, rolling her eyes. The vampire looked baffled. ‘Am I delirious,’ he thought. It was too early in the morning for this. 

“We’re about to do,” Annie said, turning towards you, “what are we gonna do?”

“The 'Shoop Shoop Song'!,” you chimed, wearing the same exhaustingly positive smile as Annie on your face. 

“Oh, yeah,” she said, nodding. “I love Cher. Mitchell, will you join us?”

“What even is a ‘Just Dance 2’?,” he asked, yawning.

“It’s a dance game,” you said like it was something he was supposed to just know. “There is someone dancing on the screen, we follow it and if we get the dance right, we get points.”

Mitchell shook his head. “You go ahead,” he said, trudging to the kitchen. “I don’t have the energy.” 

Annie looked at you and you, her before you shrugged. She walked up to you with a giggle as you handed her one of the Wii remotes. 

Mitchell opened the refrigerator and stared into it, squinting as the refrigerator light shone in his eyes. He pulled out the milk carton and shut the refrigerator door noisily. He poured the milk into the only cup in the kitchen that wasn’t filled with Annie’s tea or coffee. Music began to play in the living room and Mitchell’s head turned in the direction of the source — your and Annie’s game.

Mitchell was in no mood to participate in your childish games but he was curious. Silently, he grabbed his cup and walked out of the kitchen to see what the two of you were so gung-ho about.

He saw the two of you dancing with remotes in your hands, trying your best to follow the choreography on the screen. It looked silly, both of you fumbling steps and your limbs crashing into each other awkwardly. But it was the way you and Annie laughed, throwing your heads back at each mistake of yours that brought a smile on Mitchell’s face. 

By the time you and Annie started ‘Girlfriend’ by Avril Lavigne, the two of you had gotten a hang of the game. Your steps were less awkward, your eyes more focused on the screen than before. But the fit of laughter you and Annie would break into mid-step was still there. Standing by and watching the two of you have fun was getting exhausting for Mitchell. It felt lamer not to be dancing with you and Annie than being in the living room playing that game. Defeatedly, Mitchell set the cup down on the floor and walked up to the both of you when the round ended.

“You playing again?,” he mumbled. 

“Why?,” you asked, a gleam of mischief in your eye. “Wanna play?”

“Just one game and I’m done,” Mitchell said. Annie handed her remote to him, which he took from her and examined it with a frown on his face.

“What’s this?,” he asked.

“Grampa, that’s a remote,” Annie replied, earning a scoff from Mitchell. “You need it to play the game.”

“You’re not playing?,” Mitchell said, “You gave me yours.”

“Nope,” Annie chimed, “I wanna watch.” She smiled so wide Mitchell wondered how hard her cheeks must hurt. She skipped towards the bookcase and stood by it, arms folded. She gave Mitchell an encouraging thumbs up. He tried keeping a straight face but Annie’s excitement brought a tiny smile on his face.

“O.K.,” he heard you say, “which one do you wanna do?” Mitchell shrugged.

“Something easy.” He looked at the screen. It was too colourful for Mitchell.  “Ugh,” he said, “looks like an acid trip.”

You chuckled. Mitchell kept looking at the screen as you showed him the songs on the game. You pressed the right button on your Wii remote and the screen showed:

‘The Weather Girls

It’s Raining Men,’ with an image of a pale, faceless girl with green hair that reached her shoulders and a green dress to match her hair. 

“This one’s solo,” you explained. “Want this?” Mitchell shook his head. 

“No, I wanna do a duet, like you and Annie did,” he said, looking intently at the screen. The colourful light from the screen shone against his pale skin and in his brown eyes as if he was looking at Christmas lights.

You pressed the right button again,

‘Ke$ha

TiK ToK,’ accompanied by a picture of a blue haired girl, still pale but with some facial features this time. She sat with an arm above her head and a background of yellow, pink and blue lightning bolts behind her. 

“Solo again,” you mumbled, pressing the right button one more time. Mitchell nodded this time,

‘Vampire Weekend,

A-Punk,’ with a sweater clad couple standing, each raising an arm above their head. 

“I like 'A-Punk',” he said in a sing-song voice, beaming like a kid with the keys to a candy store. “Let’s do 'A-Punk'.”

 You look at Annie with a smile on your face, which she reciprocates with a chuckle. You selected ‘A-Punk’ and the screen turned to black.

“Get in position,” you said, retreating from the screen. Mitchell followed you and waited for the game to start. 

You pressed ‘A’ twice on your remote and so, the game began. The upcoming dance steps come scrolling sideways and it takes Mitchell a minute to figure it out. He let out a laugh when he got it, looking over to you for a second. Your eyes were focused on the screen and he turned his head to the screen too. His hands and legs collided with yours clumsily as he struggled to make sense of the steps. You laughed, making mistakes yourself. Your amused laughter spurred him on, eliciting some laughs from him too. It was way less embarrassing than he’d thought it would be, perhaps because it was you and Annie watching. His initial movements were less coordinated than yours but Mitchell was a fast learner. Well before the end of the game, he’d figured the pattern of the choreography out, now dancing with precision. Mitchell was surprisingly good at dancing. Even Annie looked impressed, eyes following Mitchell’s movements. Soon, the round ended and jogged up to you and Mitchell, clapping excitedly.

“You killed it, Mitchell,” Annie said, grinning. “You dance amazingly!”

“Thanks,” said Mitchell, rubbing the back of his neck. “You should’ve seen me in the 60s.”

“One more round, then?,” you asked. “I know you said only one game.” Mitchell looked at the colourful screen and all previous reluctance fizzed away. 

“O.K.,” he said, nodding, “just one more.”

--

About two games later, you and Annie had finally convinced Mitchell to do a solo to “It’s Raining Men.”  Annie and you stood behind the couch, whooping and hollering out a string of “Yes, Mitchell”s and “C’mon”s. Mitchell grinned sheepishly, calming you both down with an “alright, alright.”

The round began with lightning striking across the screen before the green haired figure appeared. She was crouching and Mitchell followed her, getting into position. The music began and Mitchell started following along the steps. He was unexpectedly good at this, and you and Annie couldn’t help but laugh and cheer him on. Near the end of the round, the lock to the main door turned all of a sudden with a click and in came George and Nina, arm in arm. Mitchell was right in the middle of the hook step when their eyes landed on him. George’s brows furrowed whilst Nina looked amused.

“What on Earth are you doing?,” George asked as a laugh escaped Nina’s mouth. Mitchell stopped as soon as he heard George.

“Oh, my God,” Nina said, covering her mouth as she laughed again. “I didn’t know you had ‘Just Dance 2’.” She sounded quite encouraging, much to Mitchell’s relief, who would’ve been red by now, if he could blush.

“Dance to what?,” George asked Nina, baffled. He’d known Mitchell for a while but never had he, in his wildest thoughts, expected to walk in on his friend dancing to —

“Is that ‘It’s Raining Men’?,” George asked.

“Hallelujah~,” Annie sang out from behind the couch, diverting all the eyes in the room towards herself. “Yes, it is,” she continued, growing aware of all the eyes on her. “And Mitchell’s damn good at it too.” A shy smile popped up on Mitchell’s face as he ran his fingers through his curly hair. 

“Thanks, Annie,” he said. A surprised chuckle escaped George, gaining Mitchell’s attention. He set his bag down and took his coat off to join you and Annie behind the couch. 

“Show me how this goes, then,” he said, intrigued. Annie and you cheered George’s being on board with it and Mitchell smiled wide.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” he said, trying to make his voice reach above the noise you were making, “I’m not dancing alone this time.”

“I’ll dance with you,” Nina piped up before taking one look at George. George nodded at her before clapping twice. You and Annie joined, now the three of you cheering Nina and Mitchell on. Nina chose Donna Summer’s ‘Hot Stuff’, which Mitchell approved of thanks to the “nostalgia factor.” 

The five of you spent the entire morning dancing to old songs and new till your stomachs hurt from laughing and you ran out of breath (except for Mitchell). Mitchell’s cheeks had begun to hurt and he couldn’t help but marvel at how normal he and his friends were. How human.

Just Dance soon became a monthly tradition at Windsor Terrace at Mitchell’s insistence. You’d know it was Mitchell’s time of the month when you heard ‘Rasputin’ playing downstairs early in the morning. He’d keep doing it till he got the dance right, absentmindedly mumbling corrections to himself. It had got to the point that there were no two ways about what Mitchell was to be gifted on Christmas — the first ‘Just Dance’ game.

Now, you, Annie, George and Nina would wake up to the sound of Mitchell following along with the dance to ‘Wannabe’ by the Spice Girls,

‘I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah.’

-------------------------

@hobartsaglet, I thank you for giving me the motivation to finally write <3

something tells me that mitchell would go absolutely nuts for Just Dance. that man would get into it

[sysig]

Gift (Patreon)

[lunarharp]

when an obsessed orufrey person plays ace attorney for the first time in a while

[longagoitwastuesday]

Found Gojo/Ijichi art. All is good in the world

[odoraful]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄.ᐟ

what happens when you don't use their pet name to call them?

⟡ content: zayne/sylus/xavier/rafayel x gn!reader; more dialogue heavy; silly and cute

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ZAYNE ⟡

“Can you help me put this on, Zayne?”

From the reflection in the mirror, you tried not to react at the twist in his brow and the momentary confusion in his eyes. Wordlessly, he moved behind you, fingers taking the necklace out of your hand. With his gaze focused on the task before him, you could see him open his mouth, hesitating to speak.

“Did I do something wrong?” he questioned.

Zayne’s deft hands carefully laid the chain around your neck, centering the pendent between your collarbones.

You plastered on your most innocent expression, despite the twinge of guilt you felt at his question.

“Hm? Why do you ask?”

Swiftly, he clasped the ends of the chain together. His eyes flicked towards yours in the mirror.

“You’re calling me by my first name. I thought pet names were an important step in a relationship for you.”

You nodded. “Yes, Zayne, I do think it’s an important step.”

His eyes narrowed at your continual uncharacteristic responses.

Folding his arms, he mused aloud. “It took you some time to drop the title ‘doctor’ for me and to just use my name. After we became official, you were quick to call me ‘love’.”

You fiddled with your necklace, trying to, impossibly, force away the heat from your face.

“So, either I did something to make you upset, or”—he leaned in close to you, the side of his face almost touching yours—“you’re playing a trick on me.”

You gave a mock frown. He cocked his head to the side, awaiting your response.

“Okay, okay, it was a prank.” Sighing, you surrendered to his deductions. “I wanted to see how you’d react, but you saw right through me,” you mumbled.

His lips quirked. “I’ve known you for long enough to figure these things out.”

Wanting to wipe off the amused look he had on his face, you quickly planted a kiss on his cheek. His face turned into surprise. He chuckled, shaking his head at your triumphant smile.

“Thank you for helping me, my love."

SYLUS ⟡

“Sylus, could you play that new record you bought?”

You called from the sofa. Standing by the record player, he turned to face you. The offence on his face was unmistakable as he placed his hands on his hips.

“Sylus?” he scoffed. “We both know that’s not what you call me.”

Your brows furrowed, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about? Isn’t that your name?”

“Sweetie,” he levelled a look of scepticism at you, “that hasn’t been my name for the past month we’ve been together.”

“I still don’t know what you mean, Sylus.”

He paused. Gears turned in his head trying to unpack what was happening, much like he would do when reading the truthfulness of a dealer during a bargain.

“Y/N.”

You’ve never heard your own name being said in such a serious manner. Perhaps you got a taste of your own medicine.

“I’m not particularly fond of lose-lose situations.” The softness in his tone made you feel weak. “You can tell me if I’ve done something to annoy you. I won’t be angry.”

“Not at all!” you quickly blurted out. Unable to hide it any longer, you confessed. “You haven’t done anything to annoy me. I was just trying to pull a small prank.”

All the tension visibly released from his body. A relieved sigh escaped him. “You really do play some dangerous games, kitten.”

Playfulness returned to his voice. “Now then, how will you correct your mistake?”

“Honey,” you drawled out each syllable, making it sound as syrupy as the nickname itself, “could you play that new record you bought now?”

Sylus couldn’t help but laugh at your exaggeration. “Why of course.”

XAVIER ⟡

“Xavier, do you want to try this?”

Subtly glancing at his reaction from the kitchen, you saw his face immediately fall into a pout. The look was fatal, and it took all the willpower you had not to drop the ruse right then and there.

“That’s not my name,” he answered.

“What do you mean?” you chuckled, continuing to put icing on the sugar cookies you baked. “Of course it is!”

“No, it’s not,” he insisted.

Placing his book down, he walked to stand at your side by the counter. You avoided his eye contact, pretending that nothing was amiss.

Resting a hand under his chin, he began to think. “You usually call me bunny, sweetheart, sunshine, or darling.”

Your jaw dropped in amused shock. “You remember all the names I’ve called you?”

His mouth twitches. “There are some more, but… they might be a bit embarrassing to say aloud right now.”

That was enough to make you look at him with wide eyes.

“Xavier!” Your face turned pink as you slapped his shoulder. There was no force behind the hit, but enough to convey your embarrassment.

“You did it again. You used the wrong name.” He stuck his bottom lip out.

You gently poked at his cheek, trying to lift the corner of his lip upwards. “Come on, don’t be sad darling.”

Immediately, he brightened before you.

“It was just a joke I saw couples do online. I wanted to see how you’d react.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “And was my reaction satisfactory?”

“I think it was,” you smiled at him, "but it’s a shame I didn’t film it, it would’ve made for a good Moments post.”

He shook his head. “But, the nicknames we use are only for us.”

The finished cookie in your hand had a bite suddenly taken from it as Xavier leaned down to have a taste.

“I don’t want anyone else to know.”

RAFAYEL ⟡

“Are you ready to go yet, Rafayel?”

He continued to hum to himself, completely ignoring you. You folded your arms as you watched him busy himself with something trivial. He flung open a random cupboard and inspected what appeared to be an assortment of spare art supplies.

“Rafayel,” you called again.

He then turned his attention to the fishbowl in the centre of the room, where a small orange fish darted around.

“Reddie, do you hear something?” he asked, gazing so earnestly into the bowl. This fish paused its movement and stared back at his owner.

“Rafayel~” you sang his name aloud this time, extending the last syllable.

He gasped, apparently receiving some confirmation from Reddie.

“You hear something too? Thank god. I was thinking there must be something wrong with my ears.”

Surveying the room around him, Rafayel intentionally looked past you standing barely a few metres from him, tapping your foot against the wooden floorboards of his studio.

“It sounds like”—he continued—“some kind of voice. Someone familiar to me, but I can’t make out who it is.”

“Rafayel!” you shouted his name between fits of laughter. Only he could respond to your jokes with his own dramatics.

He sucked in a breath in puzzlement. “I wonder who this person is calling out to.”

“Baby,” you finally conceded, “I’m talking to you!”

It seemed like he couldn’t keep up the act either, as he started laughing with you.

“Took you long enough,” he huffed, moving towards you and linking your arm with his. “Otherwise, Reddie and I would have been searching for this phantom voice for the rest of the day.”

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