#there has to be something to make it click for them

[astralis-ortus]

form of affection

✱ boyfriend!bc x fem!reader

— everything feels... new.

w.count → 0.8k genre → fluff warning → chan and reader both referred to as baby, one use of 'my girl', reader on period :(, minor cussing here and there, not proofread!ㅠ a.n → honestly i don't know what to write atm (aside from the continuation for that one seungmin fic) but i still want to write something lighthearted so... this happens. welp. :] ⋆ if you're enjoying my stories, do send me a ko-fi ⋆ see masterlist

you messed up.

"fuck," you finally muttered under your breath, hand clutching your forehead in frustration. you know you shouldn't have ignored your gut feeling earlier this morning and followed through with the precautions anyway.

again you turned against the mirror, still bearing some hope that whatever you saw earlier was just your eyes playing tricks on you, but no—the damned red spot on your white dress is still there, mocking you through reflection of your boyfriend's bathroom mirror.

"baby?"

you jumped at the sudden knock on the bathroom door, feeling like your heart has suddenly fallen to your feet. fuck—how are you supposed to tell him?

"are you okay? do you need me to come in?"

"no!" you hurriedly replied, only later cursing at yourself for not maintaining your composure. making chris worried was definitely your intention after going missing to his bathroom for quite a period of time, and your reply definitely wasn't helping your resolute.

"are you sure?" chris' voice were laced with concern, and you could even picture the frown that's definitely present on his forehead. "can you crack the door open? just so i'm sure you're really okay."

"it's just—"

"baby," again, the image of your boyfriend's stern gaze immediately popped up in your mind. "please? just one sec. i need to make sure that you're alright."

it's not that you're worried chris would say anything about it—you're well aware of the kind of person your boyfriend of 4 months is, and you completely trust him. it's just that…

you're embarrassed.

the click of lock were soon followed by a soft creak, revealing chris' concerned eyes beyond the slight opening of the door. his relief was audible even to you, gaze softening when he saw the glimpse of your flushed face.

"okay," chris' lips formed a soft smile, as if trying to soothe you, "are you sure all is good? do you need any help?"

"…today."

"hm?" blinking in confusion, chris brought his face closer to you, "sorry, baby, i couldn't—"

"i got my period today," you quickly repeated, cheeks heating up as you heard your own confession, "and i didn't bring any feminine products with me since i wasn't supposed to have it for another week. i also might've stained your couch. i'm sorry."

chris turned quiet, and you could practically see thoughts flashing through his eyes—but you're not a mind reader, and the passing seconds made your heart grew heavy. is he embarrassed to hear that? is he going to send you home? is he going to get upset? should you have not—

"if i'm not mistaken… i think there should be some pads and maybe some disposable underwear under the sink, baby," the sound of chris' voice promptly ceased the vortex of worry growing in your head, your eyes again meeting chris' clear ones, "i bought it a while back for you but i don't remember if i placed it here or in my room. could you check?"

despite the confusion, your body had instinctively moved along chris' request. to your surprise, you do find the items your boyfriend had mentioned, tucked neatly in a small box of necessities. you chest bubbled up in gratitude and filled with warmth—you never expected chris to do this for you, and yet, he managed to come over and beyond any of your expectations.

"found it?"

nodding your head, you swallowed back the tears welling up in your eyes. gosh—period hormones! "yeah, just found them. thank you, baby."

a sigh of relief could be heard from the other side of the door, and you couldn't help but smile—if it wasn't clear before, then now you're determined to find a way to repay chris somehow. frankly, at times you still don't understand the lengths chris would willingly go for you, or if you even deserve to be at the receiving end of chris' gesture of affection at all. the chris you've gotten to know is so full of love, and you don't even know if you have the capacity to love him the way he cares about you.

but in the mean time,

you've decided to try and accept chris' form of affection for you.

"okay," you could hear the smile in chris' voice as he speaks, "i'll go grab a change of clothes for you while you settle down, yeah? oh, and you do know where the towel if you want to shower, right?"

"yeah, i know," you held back a giggle as you reappeared in chris' vision between the crack of the door, clutching the box close to your chest with a beaming smile, "thank you, baby. really. i really appreciate this."

and with a smile equaling to the warmth of a spring's sun, chris chuckled a reply,

"anything for my girl."

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[defmaybe]

Safe

IVE’s An Yujin x Male Reader

2.4k words

Sequel to Shame

A/N: Again, dubious consent. Please proceed with caution. Thanks for reading! Also, I've started my ko-fi page too! If you'd like any commissions, ask ahead! Or you can also simply donate! Thanks!

—

“Keep shaking that ass, pretty boy. I’ll make you spread it wide and moan like a slut.”

Shivers run down your spine. Once again, Yujin’s voice tears through your heart like a jelly. She always has a way with her words. You’re left shaken, alone in the hallway. Your friends are nowhere to be seen. It’s just the murmuring, unhelpful onlookers surrounding the show of you two.

“Y–Yujin, please, seriously, stop h–harassing me,” you cry out—helpless, alone.

The growing length inside your pants tells a different story.

You hear Yujin scoff, before she clicks her heels against the tile floor. She’s walking towards you with purpose. Every step towards her frozen prey excites her. A small, evil laugh leaves her mouth.

“Bloody hell, you’re a stubborn one, aren't you?” she playfully asks, before landing a slap on your firm ass. You yelp.

“Th–This isn’t r–right, Yujin. You can’t just–ah!”

She delivers a loud smack on your supple rear again—grabbing, squeezing, kneading. She loves this. She loves to see you surrendering to her fully. You feel her undeniable heat on your back.

“You just can’t stop getting off in public, don’t you?” She then takes a swipe of her tongue off your ear, and your body shudders in response.

“Y–Yujin–”

“Look at you, that dick-sucking mouth not going along with your thoughts. You’re all hard now, don’t you?” She grabs your bulge harshly, feeling your hardness, delivering a powerful shock through your limbs. “I wanna see that pathetic cock twitch while I force that tight ass open.”

“Ngh.” You hear some onlookers chuckle at your whimper, but you just don’t have the resolve to look at them.

“Yes, moan for me, pretty boy, be my good little slut, and I might just reward you with something,” whispers Yujin into your shaken ear.

“B–But–”

“But what, you little man-whore? You love this, don’t you? You love being groped by a woman like me—domineering, harsh, unrelenting.” Her hands snake under your shirt, feeling every curve and contours of you. Your hands find handles on her meaty thighs. You hear her breath hitch slightly as your hands find her, but her resolve doesn’t falter even by slightly.

“I know you love having those cute–” she pauses, leaving time for her fingers to have a squeeze on your stiffened nubs. You moan out breathlessly in response, “–nipples played with.”

Her hands on your chest send jolts and jolts of ecstasy through your compliant body. Your grips on her thighs become tighter and tighter. You hear her moan softly, but she doesn’t let up. She won’t let up.

“I know you love having me jerking you off like that. Bet you went home that day and jerked off again—closing your eyes, imagining that it was my hand.”

“Th–That’s not true, Y–Yujin. I–I didn’t–”

“Hush, but you don’t stop just there. You put a big fucking dildo inside your ass, bouncing on it like some common whore, thinking it’s my strap, don’t you?” Yujin asks. Her finger is circling around your snug hole now, teasing you.

“As I’ve said before, it’s a waste of a good ass like this–” her fingers find your lissome rear under the waistband. She gives it a firm wrap of fingers, “–on someone as puritan as you, fucking Victorian slut.”

“Hhngn,” you whimper. The sensation of her finger on your snug hole is just too much. Your breaths come out shallow. Your cock twitches inside your pants furiously. You can feel a smirk beside your nifty ear. She’s revelling in this—the way you act, the eyes of the public, this whole damn dynamic.

“Don’t you, pretty boy? Don’t you love when your ass is stuffed with my giant cock? Hitting that soft, mushy prostate until you cum like a goddamn fountain,” Yujin continues to tease while her hand is feeling your tight ass under your fit pants, perfectly tailored for a woman like her to ogle at.

“I–I–”

“I wanna hear you say it, my little man-whore. I want you to say that you love being fucked right in that tight big ass by me,” Yujin commands, her voice laced with venom. Her hands are grabbing on the side of your meaty thighs now.

“I–I can’t, Y–Yujin, I shouldn’t,” you plead, though your heartbeats and the throbbing cock don’t support your case at all.

“Oh, why not, pretty boy? Don’t you love sucking my cock? Don’t you love getting plowed by daddy, huh?” Yujin asks seductively. She’s on your hardness now, and you can only shudder in response to her.

“D–D–Daddy?”

An evil laugh leaves her mouth as she flicks her tongue inside your ear again. “Yeah, daddy, my little cockslut.”

“N–No, Yujin, you’re not my–”

“Yes, I am, you fucking bitch. And you’ll give me the respect I fucking deserve, alright?” Yujin’s voice grows harsher now. Her grip on your cock grows tighter. Maybe this playing hard to get thing should end.

“Hgnn.”

“I know you want this, bitch, but you’re just too much of a coward to admit it,” she says, gently nibbling on your ear again.

“Wh–What if I don’t, Y–Yujin?”

“Goddamn it, maybe I should just leave then.” She then pulls her filthy hand away from your length, leaving it twitching emptily. She walks away from you, eventually. You’re left alone in the hallway again. The clicking of her heels becomes dimmer and dimmer. A sound of disappointment can be heard from the crowd.

You ask yourself: why am I like this? Is it shame? Is it pride? Why can’t you just let An Yujin plow your ass into oblivion?

It’s true, the accusations Yujin had about you. It’s always her when you’re alone in your bedroom. Your hand furiously sliding up and down your stiff cock while thinking of your bully jerking you off. You love the way she smelled that day. It was nothing short of wonderful. And you didn’t stop just there. A dildo you bought from the internet wasn’t for nothing. You lathered it with a generous amount of lube before slamming your tight ass down onto it. You moaned and moaned in ecstasy, thinking it was An Yujin fucking your ass.

A small part of you then overpowers you for a second.

“Wait!” You turn back to her.

She stops in her tracks, completely frozen, before she rotates herself back to you. A wicked, frightening smile is painted on her face. She laughs.

“Fucking finally, you bitch,” she says before slowly taking a stride towards you, one leg in front of the other.

Again, you smell her perfume as she gets closer—Yves Saint Laurent’s Libre. It’s intoxicating. Her firm midriff only entices you once more. You wish you could just give it a taste. The way she walks is alluring, meticulously designed to lure you into her, onto the huge strap she has in her locker.

“My little slut, giving in to his goddamn desires,” Yujin mocks you, but you only feel more aroused by her demeaning words. “I love little hard-mouthed brats like you, you know?”

She then rests her arms on your shoulder, pulling you closer by the neck. “And I’m going to fuck that tight ass until you can’t walk for a goddamn week,” Yujin whispers, smiling sinfully.

“Shall we?” she asks, pointing her head towards the women’s bathroom. “Hands on the sink, I’ll spread those cheeks so fucking wide then stick my cock into that tight hole.”

“O–Okay, Y–Yujin.”

—

The women’s bathroom is undeniably clean, well-lit, all-white. It’s much, much better than the men’s. It’s going to get dirty a bit, though—your drool mixed with your cum on the floor and all.

You’re standing face-to-face with Yujin. She’s a little taller than you, so you’re looking up to face her. You can see the fire inside her gorgeous eyes.

“Take that goddamn pants off, pretty boy.” You comply with Yujin’s command immediately, leaving your lower half with the boxers that’s struggling to contain your hardness.

Yujin’s eyes gleam with desire. She immediately grabs your cock through the thin cloth, making you moan in response to her sudden touch.

“Y–Yujin~ Ngh.”

“God, I wish I had this cock to myself. I’d love to see it twitch when I fuck that pretty ass of yours.”

You can do nothing but whimper. Her hand feels so warm, even though it's just on the boxers. 

She starts to stroke that thick cock of yours through the cloth, stealing your already-scarce breath away.

“Y–Yujin~”

She says nothing, only a smile spreads across her face. She’s standing tall in front of you, jerking you off like she did that day. You can sense that her breaths are getting ragged, same as yours.

“D–Don’t get too excited, pretty boy. This is just the start.”

She adeptly twists her wrist as she reaches the tip, making the entire experience much, much more pleasing than it should be. Her free hand slithers under her own waistband, determined to relieve the heat that has been building inside of her.

“Yujin, w–what are you–”

“Shhh, pretty boy, I need a relief too, you know?” Her free wrist disappears under her short shorts that show off her meaty, supple thighs. You can see the movement within them now. She’s masturbating while jerking you off.

“R–Really, Yujin? I–I mean I can–”

“Don’t worry–” she brings out her juice-slicked hand to cup your face. You’re resisting with every fibre of you to not give it a taste. “–Daddy can do it by herself, alright?”

It’s an unusual warmth from Yujin. You’re a little taken aback by this sudden care. Left speechless, you are.

“I–I–uh–”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” She then draws her hand back into her slit, still smiling, thrusting her fingers into her cunt under the shorts. Small moans are heard leaving her mouth.

“Feels so–hmm–good, pretty boy,” she moans. The hand on your cock is still relentlessly pumping the life out of you.

The sight of this is unreal if you’re asked. An Yujin is masturbating in front of you with one hand while jerking you off with the other. The face she makes is nothing short of lewd—eyes fluttering, mouth opening wide. She’s lost in pleasure, and so are you.

Her wrist remains masterful at making you moan uncontrollably—slowing down at the hilt, while twisting it slightly as she reaches the top. It’s sending you into rapture, and you don’t think you can hold it off for long.

“You know, pretty boy, you’re cute when you’re like this,” Yujin says, giving you the rare, sincere smile.

“L–Like what, Yujin?”

“Well, under my control is one thing, of course.” She lets out a chuckle, amused by your quizzical reaction. “But you also look kinda–pretty, like actually pretty when you’re moaning.”

You try your best to not let out a smile in front of your bully. Is she actually complimenting you? It’s a rare sight, really.

“Maybe it’s just me, you know–” she laughs nervously, her movements become more erratic “–but I just love it when men moan because of me.”

“I–I think it’s p–pretty obvious, Y–Yujin.” Pleasure shoots through your body, making your words come out stuttered.

She lets out a small laugh that she doesn’t bother to conceal anymore. Is this more than a tryst?

But before you can think of anything, you can feel the ever-so-familiar feeling building up inside your loins. You’re going to cum, your breathing becomes shorter and shorter. She’s going to cum too—her thighs clench, her pupils dilate, and same as you, her breathing becomes shorter and shorter as the fingering goes on.

“Yujin, I–I’m gonna cum,” you utter. You can’t hold it anymore. You have to cum in her hands, right now.

“C–Cum with me, a–alright?” Yujin then quickly kneels down, sliding your boxers down with her motion. Your stiff cock springs free in arousal.

“Yujin, w–what are you–ah!”

Her lips connect with your hardness. Your bully is giving you a blowjob in the women’s bathroom now. She slides her mouth along your length with an unmatched adeptness. Fuck, she’s pushing you down her throat.

“D–Daddy,” you moan out. Her mouth is nothing short of perfection—the suction, the warmth, the tightness. They’re all so heavenly. You’re so lost in the pleasure right now, and you aren’t sure if anything could compare to this. Her fingers are still knuckles deep inside her cunt, making her moan into your cock relentlessly.

The way she looks into your eyes, god, you’re in the clouds. Those eyes are nothing short of angelic, and the fact only makes your orgasm come quicker and quicker.

“Daddy, I–I’m gonna–”

Yujin buries herself into your crotch, taking your entire length with bravery, bringing you into the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Your cock spews cum into her throat without relenting. Your body shakes and writhes in the godly climax. Your vision turns white. In front of you, Yujin also cums, squirt leaks out of her torn shorts. Her entire frame is tensed up in ecstasy. Her eyes flutter in rapture. She cums, hard.

Your orgasms then die down. Your heartbeats decelerate. Her squirt can be seen on the floor—fucking dirty. Some of your white nectar leaks out of her mouth, such a lewd sight.

Yujin then stands up, towering over you once more. You’re lost in her eyes. She’s so beautiful like this—messy hair, panting, cum leaking out from her lips. She’s an angel.

Fuck, you may have fallen in love with her.

Boldly, you pull her into a kiss, a deep kiss. Your tongue invades her mouth, tasting the remnants of your cum inside. It doesn’t taste the best, but you’re kissing An Yujin right now, and you don’t care whatever she tastes like.

After what feels like an eternity, you pull back from her lips. You find the rosy hue in her cheeks. She loved it as much as you did.

“Wow,” says Yujin. She’s speechless. Her breaths are out of rhythm. Her pupils dilate.

She has fallen in love with you too.

“I–I don’t know what to say, pretty boy.”

“There’s no need, Yujin. You’ve told me everything I need to know.”

—

[dreamscapeee222]

Hello! Hope your having a good day or even :)

I had an idea for the arcane reacting to finding out the reader has prosthetics (maybe like a ball jointed doll). For the reason that the reader often overs their hands in gloves and normally wears long pants so no one really knew. How did the arcane react to finding out and how?

Thanks if you do take my request! And take your time :)

A/n: This is such a unique idea. Here's how I imagine that ^^

You have prosthetics

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi

Vi would be the type to stumble across the truth by accident—maybe during a sparring match or when you’re adjusting something on your prosthetics. She’d freeze for a moment, her brows furrowing in concern.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" she’d ask, her tone not accusatory but genuinely confused. When you explain it wasn’t something you wanted to share openly, she’d nod, understanding immediately. From then on, she’s fiercely protective of you, often cracking jokes to make you feel comfortable. "Hey, at least you won’t get cold feet, right?" But the softness in her eyes when she sees you adjusting your gloves says everything about how much she admires your strength.

Jinx

Jinx would probably notice something was off way before anyone else. Maybe she’d catch a glimpse of your hands moving in a way that didn’t feel "natural." When she finally discovers the truth, she’d be thrilled—"Oh, my gosh! You’re like a walking art piece!"

Jinx would constantly ask if she could decorate your prosthetics, pulling out paints, stickers, or gadgets she made herself. "C’mon, just one teeny tiny bomb launcher in your arm? Pleeease?" But underneath the playful exterior, she’d be deeply respectful of your boundaries and quick to stand up to anyone who dared make a comment about your prosthetics.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would notice small hints—a clicking sound, the way your movements were precise but deliberate—but would never press you on it. When she does find out, likely through you opening up to her, she’d be calm and measured.

"Thank you for trusting me," she’d say sincerely. Caitlyn would want to learn everything about your prosthetics—how they work, how they’re maintained, and if you need any support. She’d quietly ensure you have access to any resources or help you need, even going so far as to consult mechanics or tinkerers on your behalf without ever overstepping your boundaries.

Ekko

Ekko would probably find out during a repair session or a mission gone wrong. His reaction would be pure curiosity and awe.

"Wait, hold up—this is so cool," he’d say, crouching down to inspect your prosthetics (with your permission). "Did you build these? Who helped you? Can I?" He’d be deeply respectful of your privacy but would eagerly want to help upgrade or maintain your prosthetics if you’re okay with it. Ekko would see your prosthetics as a testament to your resilience and resourcefulness, often bringing it up when someone underestimates you: "They’ve literally rebuilt themselves. What’ve you done lately?"

Jayce

Jayce would probably find out when you were in a situation where your prosthetics needed repairs. He’d jump in to help, his mind immediately going into engineer mode.

"Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier? I could’ve helped you fine-tune these!" he’d say, clearly excited about the tech aspect. Jayce would want to involve you in the process, asking for your input and being genuinely respectful of your preferences. He’d also be the first to defend you if anyone made insensitive remarks, using his voice and status to shut them down instantly.

Viktor

Viktor would notice right away, his keen eye picking up on the small details you thought you were hiding. He wouldn’t say anything until you were ready to tell him, though. When you do, he’d be remarkably calm and empathetic.

"I understand what it’s like to live with… modifications," he’d say softly, gesturing to his own cane or leg brace. Viktor would admire your prosthetics for their functionality and beauty, offering subtle suggestions for improvements if you were open to it. He’d be the one to remind you that your prosthetics don’t define you but are instead a symbol of your strength.

Mel

Mel would approach the revelation with grace and tact. If she noticed something odd beforehand, she wouldn’t press you about it, waiting until you were comfortable enough to share. When you finally reveal your prosthetics, she’d offer you a warm, understanding smile.

"You’ve been carrying this secret all on your own," she’d say, her voice gentle but firm. "You don’t need to hide from me." Mel would never let anyone else treat you differently because of your prosthetics and would praise your strength and elegance often. She might even commission custom pieces to adorn your prosthetics if you were comfortable with it, seeing them as a unique extension of your beauty.

See pinned.

[landossnorriss]

i see you | i will always protect you | ln x she.

Pairing: lando x she. Summary: lando's girlfriend has had enough of the disrespect of a few mclaren members and decides to make it known. Word Count: 2.1k Warning: hurt? angst? idk this is very self serving?

they had locked her in his fucking drivers room. it had been hard to stomach watching the race, she had been at the edge of her seat the entire time but as the penalty landed she had lost it. lando deserved a penalty, she wouldn't argue with the fact despite knowing him so well she knew that there was no way that he wouldn't have lifted if he had seen the flag but a 10 second stop and go? her head set had been off and she had been moving before sense had really hit her. all season long she had stood by and let it happen, she had been with him as much as she could, wrapped herself around him in hopes it would shield him from the world that had proven to be so cruel to the boy they had once loved but this? it was enough.

" zak! andrea! you can't make him fucking serve that are you joking! he needs to fucking pass max and drive, absord the repercussions!" she called as she flew from the garage, mechanics trying and failing to grab at her as she made her way through the pit and to the wall her arms flailing and she didn't care what cameras caught her. she was done. " why is will calling him in! why are you not defending him!" stella heard her, but as usual her calls landed on deaf ears and with a flick on his hand he had turned back to the screens in front of him and she had felt an arm wrap around her, jons probably given no one else would have been brave enough to get close and she had been lured into lando drivers room despite her fights where she was now locked.

it was un-fucking-believable, not a single person on that pit wall had been ready to fight and with every fibre of her being she was ready to fight them all. each interview that surfaced on her phone only served to make her angrier, each time she caught sight of his face, the weight of what had happened piling on his shoulders more and more visible with each question thrown his way and the final straw? andrea's shitty fucking comments that lando should have known when a yellow was called. he had been arguing with will over pace when he had flashed and not a single person had told him about it till it was too late. the team were as much at fault as he was and the penalty was unprecedented and uncalled for.

she knew that it was lando the second the door clicked and everything in her wanted to comfort him but she had another thought on her mind. "baby... " lando frowned as she brushed passed him, confusion pulling at his brows making a picture of his already weary expression. he had been confused when she wasn't in the garage waiting for him and now his confusion had only doubled. he moved quickly after the initial shock had worn off, following his girl on the clear war path she was on.

his jaw only dropped slightly as he watched her rip open the door to where andrea and zak were currently deep in some post debrief conversation and he braced himself for the impact that was about to come. his girl was pissed and not a single person in hospitality seemed ready to stop her.

"how dare you!" she spat before zak could stop her with a well intention raise of his hands but she was already in front of andrea with a fire lit in her chest. " i'll repeat since you're looking at me with a stupid expression on your face. how, fucking, dare you. i know you have been at this team a little less time than the rest of us and so you seem to have missed something, but that man right there has bled for you from the second he stepped foot into the mtc. he has made tea, he's learnt to fix the fucking cars, he has turned down offers from every other fucking team that could have put a race winning car under him so much sooner and you give him what in return?"

" baby ... " lando warned softly behind her, as much as his chest was bursting with love for her , he didn't want her banned from races all together if she took it too far but the gentle touch of her elbow was shrugged off as she continued on.

" no lando someone needs to say it because i'm sick of it, every single weekend. not once did you congratulate lando on his pole this weekend, every single time you have to pick you pick oscar and for what? what does supporting both of your drivers do? why is that so hard for you? lando bleeds papaya through and through, he rips himself apart for this team and you left him alone to suffer after brazil, let him piece himself back together and the millionth time that he needs you to defend him this season you leave him to the wolves! what else does he have to give to this team to earn the respect he deserves from you? how can you not see that you're breaking him every time you treat him like he's nothing? he has been nothing but loyal to this team and to you, everything you ask of him he delivers and you just disrepect him constantly. you don't fucking deserve him andrea, you don't deserve to celebrate him or love him just when he wins for you when you won't defend him when he needs it!" tears streamed down her face that she barely registered as she rounded on zak who was stood staring at her with his own, admittedly ashamed expression.

" and you, you're no better. you claim to love him like a son and that you're proud of him but you're the ceo, you have the rank to pull should you need to and you constantly choose to pick the image of family over actually taking care of a boy who has been with you since he was seventeen, put some fucking respect on his name or you best believe that i will drag his ass to another team before i let him sign himself away to any more time being treated like he's nothing more than mclarens whipping post to i make myself clear?" she huffed as hands reached to wipe at her tears.

everyone paused as they waited to see whether or not she was done, tears formed in landos own eyes, guilt in zaks, praise filled jons, shame in wills. every single person in here knew that she was right, she could feel it, she just also knew it was unlikely to change much. " and you . " turning her eyes landed on her driver, her sweet, self deprecating , race worn driver. " i won't hear another word about you being sorry, no one told you it was a yellow, not your dash, not your engineer, no one, oscar got told. every one else got told but you didn't and i won't hear another word about you letting your team down, not tonight do you hear me? " she scalded with the last of the fight that was left in her , watching as misty green eyes took her in before he offered her a small nod. " now as the only person in this room that seems to give a flying fuck about the well-being of the one person that has given everything to this team im going to take lando for however long i want and you can debrief when he's ready you got that?"

moving closer to lando she reached out, her fingers linking with his she pulled him out of the room before anyone else could protest, taking the shortest route possible she knew to get him back to the safety of his drivers room. " they're never going to let me back here again god." she breathed as they closed the door, for the first time in what felt like hours taking a large breath as lando took her in. his hands moved to cup her face, thumbs wiping over the remaining tears that marred her cheeks. " i love you so much , more than any of this you know that right? " he whispered as he let his forehead drop to hers. never had anyone defended him the way that she did. " i'll defend you to the ends of this earth lando norris. i'm sorry i shouldn't have don . " she found herself cut off as landos lips captured hers gently before he pulled her into his arms, his chin resting on her head as he let his eyes close. " we'll deal with it tomorrow. " for now all he wanted to do was sleep away the race and get on their way to the next one. so long as he had her by his side, he could handle whatever they threw at him.

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

lando had long since lost the battle with sleep on the flight to abu dhabi a few hours later, his head tucked into her lap and snuggled into his hoodie, her fingers running through his hair as she watched him rest. the pair had been quiet as she had packed up his gear with jon and he spent some time online with max, they both knew he needed it and she was happy just to see him crack a few smiles. she knew once he woke again it would really hit him and she would have a whole new job to do.

the longer he could rest now the better, the easier her job would be. feeling eyes on her she lifted them from where her fingers were repeating their gentle motions through freshly washed curls. finding stella watching her she shook her head, she didn't have it in her to fight with him now. she had considered getting them a second jet but lando hadn't wanted to leave oscar with the team after the results.

" i'm glad he has you. " stella commented softly as he dropped his eyes to lando and she felt the need to somehow cover him from view even if he was none the wiser. " it can be hard , i have to be honest with the media and sometimes i am harsher on him because i know what he can deliver. " he continued as if it would explain his choices throughout the season. she didn't care though , not tonight , not when it was lando on the line for all of his honesty.

" if you think treating him that way , talking to him like that , will get the best out of him then you've failed him andrea , he loves you , he loves this team , he needs that in return or you're going to break him. " how he didn't see that she couldn't understand, he wore his heart on his sleeve so plainly even those that didn't know him could see it, so why couldn't he?

" i care about him too you know? " andrea tried again but this time it was zak who coughed, shaking his head at his team principle for a moment, his own eyes landing on the sleeping boy in her lap. it was so easy for them all to see the easy going young man he had grown into, the boy that had grown into his skin but in moments like these he was still the young, shy, self doubting teen that zak had inherited and the reminder they had all gotten today was needed.

" you can't burst out like you did again today , especially not in front of the cameras, it makes everything so much worse, for him you know that right? " zak asked quietly and she nodded, she knew that but she was ready to argue anyway, zak beating her to the punch this time. " but , message received, we will be gentler with him, we know he can be the best, that's why we push, but we will do better to protect him, i promise you that. "

she said nothing as her eyes returned to lando again, her fingers unmoving from his hair before she let her own eyes fall closed. it was weekend to forget that was for sure, but she would do everything in her damn power to make sure neither of them forgot what they had in lando ever again.

[rafescherie]

spoil me softly — rafe cameron

synopsisᝰ.ᐟ gf!reader has a hard time accepting gifts from her boyfriend, rafe cameron.

warningᝰ.ᐟ revised with grammarly, rafe being a sweetiepie ???

word countᝰ.ᐟ 917

this was unfamiliar territory for rafe—having a girl he desperately adored who didn’t ask for things? that didn’t exist on kildare. not until he met you. so shy and timid, even when he offered—even when he insisted—you’d shake your head and refuse. it was frustrating, honestly. he loved the way your eyes lit up with excitement when you got a surprise, the way your delicate fingers unwrapped the ribbons on gift boxes, and how you’d pepper his face with kisses before snuggling into him after receiving something you’d wanted. your happiness felt like a reward for him too.

“i can buy it for you,” he murmured, his lips curving into a soft smile as his hands rested lightly on your waist. you’d been staring at a pair of black, clunky mary-jane shoes on your laptop for so long it was as though you might burn a hole through the screen. that laptop, of course, was something rafe had already bought for you, much to your protests. he’d hated the inconvenience of you dragging your old one back and forth whenever you stayed over, so in his mind, the solution had been obvious: your own laptop for his house.

you shook your head, quickly clicking away from the page as his head dipped, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “no, i was just looking.”

“come on, pretty girl,” he coaxed, his warm breath brushing against your skin. his hands started to roam, gentle but firm, exploring the curves of your body with the kind of reverence that always made your heart flutter. “you’ve gotta let me spoil you a little. what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t?”

the guilt hit you immediately, settling like a stone in your stomach. you knew rafe had money—he’d mentioned buying his own place in kildare, the once-lively family home now a ghostly relic of the past. he’d talked about locking away most of his inheritance for the future, investing it smartly. you knew he could afford things like this without a second thought, but it didn’t stop you from feeling bad about accepting his generosity.

“‘s’okay, rafe,” you said with a small smile, tilting your head just enough to press a kiss to his temple. his sigh was heavy as he reluctantly let go of you, lingering close, his sharp blue eyes watching you with a mix of frustration and fondness. you were so stubborn sometimes, and he didn’t know what he was going to do with you.

“i’d feel bad, anyway,” you added softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

his brows furrowed, curiosity sparking in his expression. it was rare for you to vocalize these thoughts, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. feel bad? about what? his hands cupped your warm, blushing cheeks, his thumbs brushing gently over your skin as he studied you. the redness blooming there made him smile despite himself. “baby,” he said, his voice soft and steady, “i could buy you hundreds of those shoes, and it wouldn’t even make a dent. if it makes you happy, that’s all that matters.”

your lips formed the smallest pout, and he couldn’t help but grin. that look of yours—so sweet, so innocent—always worked against him. anytime you wanted something, all it took was a little pout like that, and he was done for.

“it’s your money, rafe,” you replied quietly.

“i know, sweet girl,” he said, his gaze locking with yours. the nervousness you often felt in moments like this melted away under the intensity of his eyes. “but i want you to feel special too. i’ve got plenty, trust me.”

before you could respond, he was already digging into his pocket, that familiar mischievous grin spreading across his face. your heart skipped a beat when he pulled out a small, soft velvet pouch. “besides,” he said, his voice tinged with excitement, “i already bought you something.”

the diamond necklace he revealed shimmered as sunlight caught it, the intricate detail immediately taking your breath away. it was stunning, and you didn’t even want to imagine how much it had cost.

“rafe…” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of awe and exasperation.

“turn around, pretty,” he instructed, his tone gentle but firm. you obeyed, your back pressing against his chest as he clasped the necklace around your neck. the delicate chain settled perfectly, the small diamond-studded “r” pendant resting just above the curve of your chest. he took a moment to admire how it looked on you, sneaking a quick glance downward that made him bite his lip in approval.

“it’s beautiful,” you breathed, your fingers brushing over the pendant. “i love it, rafe. thank you.”

you knew, deep down, that there was no point in protesting anymore. rafe was going to spoil you no matter how much you tried to fight it. you turned to him, pressing your lips to his in a tender, lingering kiss. his hands found your waist again, pulling you closer, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you had been perfectly crafted for each other, made to fit in ways that satisfied every corner of your hearts. you couldn’t help but wonder how you’d gotten so lucky.

when the kiss broke, he pressed his lips to your forehead, his arms wrapping firmly around you. “now,” he murmured, his voice laced with that same mischievous warmth, “put those shoes back in your cart. i’m buying them for you.”

[pink-pavlove]

Buckle up babe, I’m ranting again.

MASTERMIND SPOILERS!

okay so I haven’t seen anyone else say this yet so here it goes.

Stolas song in mastermind was obviously him putting on a character, playing a role so Satan and the court would believe he was to blame, not blitz. He plays into the social hierarchy of hell and basically says to satan, you really believe this imp could go behind your back and fool you for so long? If that’s what you want to do, okay blame him.

Pretty expected, self sacrificing stolas stuff.

BUT THEN stolas says something that makes the gears in my brain whirl.

The scene change to give us a glimpse of imps at home watching, they all stare and blink like they are realizing something. Like things are clicking into place. Like SOMEONE just told them to do something and they thought, “hey, that’s a great idea, let’s do that.”

Stolas is not only painting a picture of what went down with the grimoire to trick satan and the court, he’s also playing toward the camera, talking to the hellborn who are watching this unfold from the tvs in their living rooms.

Stolas is basically serving a martyr to them on a silver platter. To me he’s saying, hey! Look! One of your own was about to be murdered for no good reason because people like me are willing to sacrifice your kind for their benefit.

He’s inciting change, revolution. And I think he’s doing it on purpose.

Stolas is the one who inspired the imps to support blitz, to idolize him. STOLAS IS THE REASON FOR BLITZ’S SUDDEN COME UP!

Which gives the line “thanks for saving me stolas.” “Always.” Even deeper meaning because not only has stolas saved him physically, he also just saved his life by giving him the one he always wanted. The life of the most famous imp of all time.

And all Stolas had to do, was lose absolutely everything he ever had. 😭

I am not well. Everything is going to get worse before it gets better. My poor bird boy!

[covenofagatha]

If you're still taking requests I'd love to suggest Agatha x fem reader smut with mutual maturation and Agatha guiding inexperienced reader through dry humping after finding out

It took me awhile to figure out what I wanted to do for this story, but a lightbulb clicked today and it was all I could think about so I really hope everyone likes it!

Forgive me, Father

After feeling something that you shouldn't have, you go to confession and Father Agatha helps you repent

Word count: 1700+

Warnings: confessional booth sex, father kink (?), religious imagery, masturbation, thigh riding, slight dubcon, reader is completely innocent and inexperienced and thinks any kind of sex is a sin, corrupt priest agatha, so sacrilegious lol

You slide into the confessional booth, stomach twisting and palms sweating. 

You were practically a regular there, always looking to assuage your guilt about the bad things you did: accidentally saying the Lord’s name in vain, getting too angry when your brother turned off the television and snapping at him, harboring a grudge against a stranger who cut you off while driving. 

You strived more than anything to be a good girl, and when you did something bad, it ate you alive. 

Except this time, it wasn’t just a small sin. 

No, it was much worse than anything you had confessed about earlier. 

The door to the conjoining part of the booth opens and you hear someone sit down. 

“What is the matter, my child?” The priest says, and you’re surprised to hear a woman’s voice. You didn’t know women could become priests, nor that your parish had one. 

You do the sign of the cross and say, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession.”

“What do you have to confess?” 

You take a deep breath, wiping your hands on your legs to try and dry them off. “Last night, I was at a friend’s house reading Scripture and her older sister was watching a movie in the other room. When I went to the bathroom, I saw a glimpse of it.” 

You stop talking, afraid of the next part. The priest makes a sound to urge you on. 

“I don’t know what movie it was, but there were two women kissing,” you tell her, shuddering. “Which I know is a sin, but then I felt something inside me.” 

“What did you feel, child?” She asks. You can hear her breathing closer to the partition like she’s leaning towards you. 

Tears prick your eyes. “I felt, um, like this heat in my stomach? And almost like I was empty? When I went to the bathroom, there was a wetness in my underwear.” 

The priest thinks for a second and then tuts. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, shame bubbling up. “But it was wrong, and I know that. I’m sorry, Father! What is my penance?” 

“There is something that can be done when you feel like that, you know,” she says slyly, her voice getting low and thick with something, and your heart stutters. 

Surely she can’t be talking about–

“Have you ever touched yourself?” She asks. 

“No, of course not!” You exclaim indignantly. “Masturbation is a sin. You can only be touched down there by your husband.” It’s the same words you’ve heard your entire life. 

“I bet you didn’t know that those rules don’t apply to priests,” she says and your brows furrow in confusion. “Since we are not allowed to marry.” 

You swallow. “Really?” Curiosity is getting the better of you and you’re starting to feel warm. You can almost hear her nodding her head. 

“Really. And as a priest, I’m giving you permission to try. It will make you feel good and relieve the tension you feel.” 

Your heart skips a beat and you can feel flickers of heat in your stomach. But you shake your head in frustration. “I don’t know how to,” you admit. 

“Why don’t you come over here and I’ll help you?” She says, sounding like a cat who just got the cream. Feeling better, you step out of your side and into hers. 

It’s a tight fit, and through the dimly lit space, you get your first look at the priest you’ve been talking to and your mouth parts. 

Her dark, curly hair frames her face and falls down past her breasts. Her striking blue eyes, although you can see barely any of the cerulean color with how large her pupils are, seem to pierce through your soul. They rake up and down your body, taking in your jean shorts and Youth Group t-shirt from years ago.

You can feel your pulse somewhere between your legs and it’s like the feeling from last night, only amplified. 

“Please, Father,” you beg, although not sure what you’re asking for. She smirks and motions for you to take a step closer. 

“Why don’t you get on your knees, angel? Like you do when you pray.”

You obey and wince at the cold tile. It’s a little uncomfortable, but you lay your palms face up on your thighs and look at her. 

She bites her lip at the sight, something flashing in her eyes. “Very good. Now, unbutton your jeans and slide a hand inside.” 

Something stops you, a feeling nagging inside your brain. You’re still not convinced that this isn’t a sin, and she sees your hesitation. 

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll show you what to do,” she says, and she begins pulling up her robes. Your fingers twitch against your thighs and the feeling inside you grows. Once they’re around her waist, she moves her underwear to the side to reveal her private parts to you. 

“Is it supposed to be that wet?” You question, absolutely enraptured by what she looks like. You’ve never even really examined your own that closely, but she has two flaps of skin that look like they’re practically matted together with wetness and she’s glistening. Jesus Christ himself could come down to earth right now and you wouldn’t even care. 

She nods and runs a hand through, parting her folds and letting you see more of her. 

“Yes, if you’re this wet, that means your pussy is ready,” she says and you blush at the vulgar word. “And this up here-” She cuts off to circle her finger on something at the top of her pussy. “-is your clit. This is what you want to focus on.” 

She rubs herself more and her head slightly drops back with a moan. It’s like your body is being consumed with hellfire. 

This priest is both the apple and the snake in the Garden of Eden, and you are the poor mortal fool about to give into temptation and sin. 

“That feeling inside you?” She whispers, and your eyes lock on hers, waiting for the answer to salvation. “This is how you get rid of it.” 

She slides a finger into herself and groans louder and you can’t resist unbuttoning your shorts and cupping yourself through your underwear. 

“Father…” You rasp, hesitating because you realize you don’t know her name. 

“Agatha,” she says, moving in and out. “Play with your clit, angel. Rub it.” 

You struggle to find it, but when you do, your entire body jerks with pleasure. She chuckles above you and you’re reminded of the stained glass windows in the parish of disciples kneeling at the altar before Jesus.

Is that what the two of you look like right now?

Like you’re revering Father Agatha?

That’s what it feels like. 

You can feel how wet you’ve gotten through your underwear and you squirm at the stickiness. You keep stroking that special spot, watching the priest do the same, but it feels like you just need more. The blaze inside you is only growing more and you feel like you need relief or you’ll die.

“Father Agatha,” you whine and you don’t miss how her hips buck. “I can’t do it by myself, I need help. It’s only getting worse.” 

She pouts. “Of course it is, angel. That means it’s working. Although, if you really want to feel good, why don’t you let me guide you?” 

You stiffen involuntarily, even though your body is screaming to let her. “If you touch me there, I’ll be impure.” 

She thinks hard for a minute, tapping her finger to her lip and then her face lights up. “I won’t touch you there, then.” 

You frown and she beckons you up. She parts her legs and pats one of them. You stare at her, completely confused as to what she wants you to do.

“Take off your shorts and sit on my thigh with your underwear. We won’t be touching and it won’t be a sin.”

You can’t find any holes in that logic, so you obey and you let out a gasp when you drop your pussy right onto her leg. You moan. Having a strong muscle to move against makes the pleasure so much more intense and you rut against it frantically. 

“There you go, angel. Make yourself feel good,” she encourages, putting her hands on your hips to guide you down harder. Each drag of your clit against her skin, even through your wet fabric, pulls a sound out of your mouth. 

“Father, please, so good, more,” you pant. 

You shall not make false idols. You have definitely broken that commandment as you have fully given yourself over to worshipping this woman. 

“Oh, my God, please.”

You shall not take the Lord’s name in vain. There’s another one. 

“Father Agatha, something’s happening to me!” Heat and tension are rising and twisting and building and making you so tense that you think you’re about to snap. 

She smirks and digs her fingernails into your hips to move you faster. “Let go, angel. That’s the best part.” 

You remember hearing the story of Noah’s ark in nursery school. How God warned him of a flood and to gather two of every animal before he overflowed the earth. 

You feel that flood now in your body, except it’s pleasure rushing through your veins, like a dam has broken. 

Your head slumps onto her shoulder. “What was that?” 

“That was an orgasm,” she says, sounding very proud of herself. “Reproduction isn’t the only reason people have sex.” 

Your face turns red. “But – no, we didn’t – that wasn’t sex, I couldn’t have had one of those, I’m not married!” 

Your protests only make her grin more and she brushes a piece of hair from your sweaty face. “Oh, you’re so innocent, angel. I’m a priest, remember? The rules are different for us. And if you’re still feeling guilty, do eight Hail Mary’s.” 

You nod, mind reeling from that. You will certainly have to pray later. But there’s something else you can’t stop thinking about. “But what if that feeling comes back?”

She smirks and there’s a glint in your eye that both makes you want more and terrifies you. “Then you come back for more confessions until we can get rid of all those dirty thoughts.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If we like, I have an idea for a part 2 that lines up with another request

[dollyichi]

STAR PLAYER’S TYPE : ITOSHI RIN . . . m—dni. / f ! reader / mentions of wounds / marking / somno / university au [ you’re part of the school’s paper club ! ] / your relationship is a mess / not proofread

itoshi rin, university heartthrob, was asked by the school paper about his type. “this is for our sports segment! please help us out.”

he clicks his teeth, “what? my goals aren’t interesting enough for you?”

“no- no! it’s just a little profile we’re making for the whole team.” the poor writer was clearly intimidated, but he asks the question again.

uninterested and snarky he’d say “a girl with a cut on her lip from biting down so hard.”

“huh?” was all they thought. the journalist is really confused. what exactly is he talking about? “that’s… oddly specific but isn’t that a bit sadistic?”

“i like details.” and he couldn’t help but grin at your perfect timing. you’re wearing his hoodie and a mask. taking photos of the other players on the field during their practice.

he calls for you to come closer, having a hand out for you. you take it, letting the camera rest on the straps around your wrist. you’re startled when rin pulls you closer. a hand on your waist. “see this?” he says while pulling down your mask.

you wince, the mask slightly hitting your lips. and there on display, was your bottom lip with a cut that bled slightly from the contact.

“oh my god y/n? are you alright what happened?” the removal of your mask further showed the dark circles under your eyes.

you look exhausted.

“i bit it too hard.” you say pulling up the mask to hide it back. clearing your throat and licking the wound to ease the pain. rin was grinning to himself and the poor writer just didn’t know what was going on he was just given a list of questions to fill, but he’s witnessing… some sort of tension?

how’d you even get close to him?

“wait till you see once i pull down her hood.” you shriek and leave immediately, running away. “well that’s my cue to leave.”

“itoshi wait! a-are you sure you want this on the school paper?”

“does it look like i give a fuck?” he glares at them before chasing after you with his backpack in one hand.

the next day you decided not to wear the mask since it healed a bit better. placing the newly developed photos on the desk in your club room. “woah y/n what happened to your lip?” your president asks.

you sigh, “i bit too hard.” before the president could even ask you why, the conversation shifts.

“really?” the main editor chuckles. “then apparently you’re rin’s type.”

“ha? what the fuck are you-“ they hand you the newly printed out issue. in a big bold font that says ‘star player itoshi rin’s type!’ and you had to squint to see the answer. causing your hands to tremble while you gave it back to them. “hah…” was all you could say, before you sunk on your seat.

“i guess i need another mask.”

bonus: early morning fun <3

“mmph! fuck r-rin…” it was too early for this. you ended up falling asleep when rin invited you over to hang out. you didn’t expect to be woken up with him fucking you—not that you mind, but you weren’t a morning person to begin with.

your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. it was just too much. your back was against his chest as you lay on your side. his right hand on your waist to hold your body while he thrusted deeper into you.

you didn’t know what you would call this relationship. sometimes he’d be cold, sometimes he’d be playful, sometimes he’d be so nice that you could melt. and then you’d fuck, no matter what.

sometimes you hoped he would just admit it. sometimes you hoped this relationship actually was ‘something.’

then he’s back at it again, it was just too early. your voice was already hoarse from last night. and for sure the neighbors would all be awake.

he couldn’t help it though. waking up to you snuggled up to him so close, touched that you let him hold you all night. and then he’s see your thighs together, how there were visible marks that he left from last night.

it caused shivers down his spine that forced his body to move on his own against the pretty, defenseless you.

rin’s got your arms pinned towards him. you couldn’t move, couldn’t escape, letting him fuck you more relentlessly. you tried your best not to let even a whimper out. with the little self awareness you still have, all you could do was bite down on your bottom lip. hard enough to draw blood.

broken mewls and suppressed moans just kept him going, thrusting faster and faster. “a bit more…” he whispers, kissing at the back of your neck.

when it was over he turns you on your back, immediately seeing the mark on your lips. “you bit down again.” rin pouts before kissing the corners of his mouth.

you chuckle. “got nothing to shut me up.”

“just bite me instead of hurting yourself.”

he helps you to the bathroom so you could get ready for classes. “are you a monster or something? what the hell…” you say, tilting your head from side to side. the marks he left on you on full display. rin says nothing, holding you close. softly running his fingers on the marks on your neck. “i don’t have my concealer.” you groan. rin had his eyes on you the entire time through the mirror while you’re mentally panicking. you’re just hoping it wouldn’t be too hot outside to wear a hoodie.

you turn around to face him, asking if you could borrow one his jackets until you looked down deadpanned.

“you’re hard again.”

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : i need more of this au. school photographer reader who’s always forced to take the photos of her university’s center forward because he make sure he grabs her attention… oh!!!

[yagamiraaky]

OK but you have to keep in mind that Minecraft has been around for a loong time, and even if it was indie when it was developed, it was quickly picked up by a big company (microsoft) that would just throw money at it. It's team is somewhat big, it is incentivized to come up with new content at least once a year.

I just looked into vintage story, and the game was released in 2016 by a Latvian team of 8 people. It doesn't have the resources to keep pumping new content in the game to make it bigger.

I remember when Minecraft was in beta, and even when it released, and it had like 4 biomes... And if it never got the resources it did, it probably would never be past the like 6 biomes and the basic mobs. Go play the first versions of bedrock Minecraft and tell me you don't get bored after a week of playing.

Also, age has a big influence in this. When you are young you can feel entertained hours on end with very little, but as you grow up and start relating to things and understanding the world around you better, and yourself as a person, you start wanting specific things from things, that you didn't previously. Which is what I think is happening to you. So the solution I would say is keeping with what you know you like, or continue searching until something clicks, but keeping an open mind and maybe search out of your comfort zone. Try platformers, action games, rpgs, rogue-likes, and you will maybe find something that intersects your interests.

I'll give you my example: I love pokemon, and have been playing since it came out, when I was 6 years old. But I hate it's genre of games, which are turn based rpgs. Every other turn based rpg I've tried I felt was too slow for me and I hate how much I have to strategize to play them. I just want a good story and to melt through the enemies, maybe have difficult battles, but that aren't dependent on me having to play 5d chess to do them. So I found out, quite recently, that although I love pokemon, my favourite genre of games is actually action rpgs. I still play every single main line pokemon game that comes out, but I don't play turn based rpgs beyond that. I can't stand them. Also platformers are not for me. I grew up playing Mario, but they are really not something that I love playing.

So, again, I suggest you trying something different, and find the genre that you really like. Also, you could look into walkthroughs and gameplay videos to see if you'd like something before playing it. But don't feel too stuck on the "right way to play the game". The right way is the way you enjoy it.

i am now bored of vintage story.

i used to get absorbed in games so easily and i played nothing but minecraft for legit 5 years so this era of picking up new games and getting bored of them quickly is disconcerting to say the least

[ouiouimochi]

Grumpy Snowman

pairing/s: jin kamurai x reader

wc: 700

warning/s: no beta we die like zenji, short, characters may be ooc, no thoughts head empty when making this, wonky phone format

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙

On the 1st day of simpmas, my true love gave to me

“Why is my name on this snowman? Tohma, give me your gloves. Whichever half-wit made this has shit for eyes.”

“That would seem unwise, Captain” Tohma voiced, concealing a glint of mirth in his eyes by closing them accompanied by his signature smile.

Jin crossed his arms, waiting for the other male to follow his order until his vice captain eventually slipped off his gloves. The silver haired male wore one glove on his dominant hand before tracing a finger over his name on the snowman, erasing it in the process as well as leaving an awkward looking crevice on the surface of the snowman.

After removing the glove and throwing it back to Tohma, both of them proceeded inside Frostheim without a word.

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

Crunching of snow accompanied your humming while on the way to the Frostheim house, mood elevated for today. You immediately went for the main entrance, already used to being called over on a certain grumpy man’s whims.

Your eyes then turned to the area of snow you played with Luca and Kaito on, smiling fondly at the fun memory…

Laughter filled the air after a few thrown snowballs. You three eventually settled for making snowmen.

Left to your own devices, you finished yours— it looked like it was frowning. With a giggle, a certain someone immediately came to mind and you start to unconsciously write his name on the body of your work. You stood up with a fond smile, proud of your masterpiece—

You then stopped on your tracks when you noticed something wrong with the cute snowman you made with your friends. Eyebrows scrunched, albeit a little upset.

‘Whoever tampered with my work is quite the busybody’

With your mood a bit flipped over, you walked into the giant castle.

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

“Oi, servant. Your mood seems to be more down than usual. It's fucking ruining my tea.”

You gathered up the documents on the coffee table, compiling them together into a neat stack. You sighed.

“Someone ruined a work of mine.” You actually don't know why you answered when he wasn't even asking. Perhaps your ruined mood did the talking for you.

“Hmn? Do you know who did it?” He spoke gruffly. Despite the unbothered tone he put on, you were already quite familiar with the way Jin talked and acted.

He cared— not that he'd admit it— and he'd reason out that no one should bother “his favorite servant”. Although after thinking about it some more, he sometimes went over the top…

You shook your head, waving off his question. Who knew what he'd do to the poor perpetrator if he were to find out. You felt silly now for being upset over a small thing that can't even be called an issue.

“I- Nevermind that, it wasn't that important anyways.”

You took another stack of papers, sifting and scanning through them, before neatly compiling them yet again. Your eyes met his and you found that it was already staring at your form the whole time.

Standing up, you took the papers you needed to hand to Cornelius.

“I believe it's my cue to take my leave now, Jin.” You awaited his response as if asking permission to go out.

He clicks his tongue and takes a whiff out of a cigarette. With a puff of smoke and slouching into the sofa, he finally spoke.

“Do what you want.”

You smiled at him, doing a small bow before turning on your heels.

“Please do take care, it has started becoming colder as of late.”

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

“Tohma, you damned rat. You knew all along and didn't fucking stop me.” Jin’s eyebrows were deeply furrowed, his mouth into a scowl.

“I believe I did warn you that it was unwise, Captain.” Tohma's annoyingly matter-of-fact voice reached the silver-haired male’s ears

After summoning the busy vice captain to his quarters in order to investigate what got you so down, Jin was only met with the other ghoul’s irritating snicker as he revealed that the Captain himself was the one involved in the said incident.

He pinches his nose, clicking his tongue again.

“Go fucking send her this then.”

“Should I include in the letter that you're sorry for calling her a half-wit with shit for eyes?”

“You got a damned death wish?”

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

Later that evening, you received a package containing a delicate snow globe that had a polar bear and brown cat inside.

You had an inkling of an idea who sent it— perhaps you'd have to mentally apologize for calling him a busybody.

'Maybe the snowman was actually ugly'

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙

note/s: soo I'm participating in the simpmas event, courtesy of @justwinginglife , where I post a fic for a diff character (that I simp for) each day until the 25th. Hopefully I'll be able to commit to finishing the event— I cannot promise that the ones I post are gonna be complete either. Do expect short fics instead of the fleshed out ones. I do apologize for my inactivity, uni has absolutely been destroying me

lastly, even though it was jin's fault for erasing his name on that snowman i made for him— I'd 100% agree with him and say it isn't his fault character apologist anything could be his fault but I'd gaslight everyone to think it was their fault instead

taglist: @ryescapades , @minasfwoopyponytail + anyone else who wants to be added!

[epickiya722]

Folks, you're not going to like what I have to say. I just know it and I'm warning you of that. I said it once before, but leaks really do make some folks act out in ways that I can't understand. We ain't even got a full translation and already people are saying this ship is canon and that ship is canon... and whatever else. Jumping to conclusions when you don't even have all the facts.

Look, I'm not saying Hori is the best writer. I'm not saying Izuku and Ochako is a bad ship (it's not, there's worse... a lot worse).

But I do think some people are jumping ten steps ahead and I doubt that they are canon romantically. This isn't me being in denial because I could care less about the ship. It's not a ship that makes me sit up at night and cry and want to punch a wall and harass people. No ship for me does.

So far, from what I can gather from the very little information Izuku wants to see Ochako more because... THEY LITERALLY HAVEN'T SEEN EACH OTHER A LOT. In the last chapter, Izuku states that the class haven't been able to catch up and whatnot because over the years they got busy with their careers. The last time they probably had a proper conversation was in high school.

Izuku and Ochako wanting to meet up more doesn't automatically mean they're going to date. Let's not forget, Ochako is one of the first people to become a close friend of Izuku's in their first year. They clicked because they were so similar. They mirror each other even!

They're best friends if anything and wouldn't you want to see your best friend after not seeing them for a long time?

So far, it just feels that this epilogue is them accepting their own feelings about everything that has happened, like a self-reflection and self-acceptance type of deal.

Sometimes, you realize something about yourself when encountering someone who is like you. That's how Izuku and Ochako are to me.

It takes them identifying with the other to come to terms about themselves.

"But the blushing! The handholding!"

So blushing automatically means "I have romantic feelings for you", is what some of you are saying?

Just gonna forget all the times they and others have blushed out of embarrassment or happiness? That even some characters have the blush stickers to show their sweet innocent nature, like Ochako for most of the story?

Izuku blushed at Katsuki in the final chapter out of happiness, so it can't apply here, too? Why does blushing got to only be used in a romantic sense?

Seeing Izuku blushing looking at Ochako is funny when considering he's holding an (possibly) alcoholic beverage in that same shot. My guy is probably drunk. 😆 Jokes aside, jokes aside.

This is Ochako and Izuku, we're talking about here. They're the Queen and King of MHA characters who blush a lot, no matter what is going on.

And the handholding? In MHA? It happens a lot between characters! It's not like anything new or Izuku and Ochako are going to get cooties.

Look, I might make some people laugh or hate me for this one but when I saw this... I was reminded of this.

For those that don't know, that is from the Predator (1987). Yes, that Predator.

Two characters that have been friends for a long time and just happy to see each other.

We seen this kind of handshake like this before between characters of different and same genders. Either as a greet or as an agreement.

Izuku and Ochako are just agreeing to see each other more and that they should allow themselves to live happy lives. That doesn't mean they're going to start dating and having babies the following week.

"Bakugou is being treated like his wingman!"

Ah, stop right there. Katsuki encouraging Izuku to talk to Ochako isn't like that strange because between Izuku and Katsuki, Katsuki is the one to most likely reveal his emotions. He is more in touch with his emotions than Izuku who while emotional tends to keep everything in.

Katsuki isn't playing wingman. He's playing advisor and someone who has experience with emotions.

Seeing Izuku stumbling over his words and being all nervous trying to talk to Ochako is so in character for him. He has never been too good expressing his emotions.

I doubt Katsuki would be like "go tell her you want to marry her". He is more like "go talk to her, you're friends, remember? Been forever since you had a proper conversation."

It's the same case with Himiko pushing Ochako towards Izuku. She is encouraging her to be happy and not be stuck in the past. Not "go get married".

Happiness doesn't mean you must be in a romance.

Just me, again, but I feel like some people are really just jumping the gun here. If you really are thinking Izuku and Ochako being canon is bad for your ship, that's... I'm sorry, this will be mean of me to say, but that's ridiculous.

A ship being canon shouldn't stop you from enjoying the ships you do like. What ever happen to "ignore canon"? Oh, I guess that becomes irrelevant when you want to cause panic and bash and panic and bash and panic and bash.

Like a handhold like that shouldn't make you feel threatened by that ship.

Just continue shipping your ships! Take it from someone whose favorite ship is of two characters who haven't been seen interacting before.

Even still, with just leaks alone, it doesn't mean they are canon. I have my ships and there's moments in whatever the story makes me ship them but I also don't think every little behavior is meant to be romantic.

The thing I know I'm going to hate about this epilogue isn't even the chapter itself. It's the reactions.

I know some people are going to say this chapter is queerbait and use to it to even go as far as to bash Ochako given she is the woman and it's routine to hate on the woman. It ain't queerbait if Katsuki and Izuku wasn't going to be explicitly a couple themselves. Let's not forget it's Shonen Jump and even though the queer coding can be there, we can't have everything.

Also, I also know that some fans of IzuOcha are going to use this chapter to justify their "authority" of "best ships" and harass people like "my ship is better than yours" and be only concerned about Ochako being a housewife.

I don't think Horikoshi is the greatest human and MHA is a flawless story but some of you are no better to these characters and the story.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

never let me go | ruben dias

💐 synopsis: As a newlywed couple, you and Ruben are deeply in love and spend an intimate emotional night together in a coastal villa. tags: honeymoon night, smut but make it cute and passionate (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) | (around 3k words)

The bedroom door creaks open, and you step inside, still holding the hem of your dress to keep it from brushing against the floor. The room looks like it’s been waiting for you both all night. The villa is quiet except for the waves. You can hear them breaking against the rocks below, a steady rhythm that feels like it’s syncing with your heartbeat. The air smells of salt and the faintest trace of citrus from the grove you passed on your way in. 

Behind you, Ruben steps in shutting the door behind him with a soft click. He’s loosened his tie, his white shirt slightly wrinkled from hours of hugs and laughter and dancing at the wedding party, but somehow, he still looks immaculate. Just the sight of him is enough to send a wave of warmth through you, the kind that starts low in your stomach and spreads all the way to your fingertips.

You turn to say something – maybe a joke about how exhausted you are from dancing, or how your cheeks still ache from smiling too much – but before the words can form, he’s already closing the space between you.

“Wait,” he says, his voice teasing as his hands settle on your waist. In one swift motion, he lifts you off the floor. You let out a startled laugh, your arms flying around his neck.

“Ruben!”

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he says, his smile widening as he steadies you in his arms. 

His fingers shift slightly, holding you tighter. Then he leans in closer, his forehead almost touching yours, and his voice softens.

“With my beautiful wife.”

The words hit you square in the chest, and you’re not sure how to hold all of it – the tenderness, the certainty, the love. Your grip on him tightens instinctively, your fingertips brushing against the warm nape of his neck.

“Your wife,” you repeat, almost testing the weight of the words, and they come out so quiet they barely make it past your lips. But he hears them. Of course he hears them. “That still feels weird to say.”

“Get used to it,” he says, then he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re mine now.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “I’ve been yours long before today, Ruben.”

He tilts his head back slightly, a playful gleam in his eyes. “True.” He pauses. “But now I get to say it officially.”

“Officially, huh?” you tease. “I think you’re just excited about the title.”

“I mean, it’s a pretty good title,” he says, his voice low and thoughtful, as though he's seriously considering the weight of the word. “Wife has a nice ring to it.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “You’re ridiculous.” But the smile spreading across your face betrays you, and the entire moment feels too perfect to be real. It’s like you’re floating, suspended in this bubble of joy that you never want to break.

Ruben leans in again, this time pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering just long enough to send a flutter through your chest. “I’m just happy,” he says quietly.

“I know.” You rest your head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat matching the rhythm of the waves outside. The sound is calming, familiar, grounding you in this moment, but inside, your heart feels like it’s ready to burst from the sheer intensity of everything you’re feeling. You want to hold on to this, to him, forever.

“I’m happy too,” you add, your fingers tracing small, absentminded patterns along his shirt. The words feel too small to describe everything that’s swelling inside of you – the love, the yearning, the certainty of him being everything you ever needed.

He tightens his arms around you, his hand resting on the back of your neck, and you feel the warmth of his palm against your skin. You look up at him, eyes meeting his with a hunger that neither of you can hide.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, the words rough, full of a hunger that sends a heat through you that has nothing to do with the warmth of the room. He leans in, his lips catching yours in a kiss that’s deep, urgent, filled with all the things you’ve been trying to hold back all night.

Your hands slide down his chest, pulling at the fabric of his shirt as you arch against him, feeling the heat of his body pressing into yours. The kiss breaks for a moment, both of you gasping for air, and his forehead rests against yours, breaths mingling as the room spins.

“I need you,” he says, his voice thick with desire. His hands slide down your back, pulling you closer, the space between you shrinking as if the two of you can’t get close enough. You feel the rush of his breath against your skin, the desperation in his touch making your pulse race.

“Then take me,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but charged with everything you want. His eyes darken and in one smooth motion, he lays you gently on the bed. 

Ruben hovers over you, his eyes roaming your face as if he’s memorizing every detail. “You have no idea how much I want you,” he says, his voice even rougher now, but still filled with the same adoration that makes your chest tighten with affection.

You tilt your head back, your hair spilling across the pillows, and reach for him again, your hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him down to you. You need him just as much, feel the ache of it in every inch of your skin, every beat of your heart.

And then he’s kissing you again, deeper this time, the desperation in his touch matching your own. His body presses against yours, hot and heavy, and you can feel the way he’s trying to keep control, but you can also feel the way he’s unraveling beneath your touch. You pull him closer, your hands sliding underneath his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

Ruben pulls back for a second, and his hands move to the zipper of your dress. His fingers are clumsy, a bit too eager, fumbling with the fabric like it’s something he’s never seen before.

"Hold on," he mutters, trying again, but the zipper doesn’t budge. You can't help but laugh softly, a little nervous giggle that catches him off guard.

"You okay?" he asks, his brow furrowed in concentration, his hands still working on the zipper.

"Yeah," you chuckle, lifting your arms so he has more room. "You’re gonna have to work for this, huh?"

He laughs too, shaking his head. "Apparently, yes." His face softens with a smile. He gives up on the zipper and moves his hands to the straps, trying to slide them off your shoulders, but the dress won’t cooperate. The whole thing is tangled now, your arms awkwardly raised, your whole body stuck in this massive, elegant piece of fabric.

You both sit there, slightly breathless. Ruben shifts on the bed, leaning back with a deep sigh and letting out a laugh that sounds more from disbelief than frustration.

“Okay,” he says, voice breaking with a half-laugh. “This is ridiculous.”

You lean back against the bed, unable to hold back your laughter anymore. “I told you it was complicated.”

He shrugs with a grin. 

You sit up, trying to find a way to untangle the mess of fabric, and he watches you for a second, both of you smiling at how absurd the whole situation is. The tension that was there a few minutes ago has eased, replaced by an ease that only comes when you're with someone you trust.

After a few more moments of playful struggling, Ruben finally manages to slip the dress off your body with a triumphant sigh, leaving you in nothing but the delicate white lingerie you’d bought specifically for tonight.

You sit up, feeling exposed but free, and Ruben takes a moment to just look at you. His eyes are full of admiration, as if he can’t quite believe that you’re here with him, in this moment. There’s no rush in the way he looks at you, just pure, unfiltered affection.

"God," he murmurs, almost to himself, a slight awe in his voice. "You’re perfect."

You feel the heat rise in your chest, the flutters in your stomach, but it's not nerves or embarrassment this time. It’s love – love that feels so big it could swallow you whole, but in the best way. Ruben reaches for you, his hands gently cupping your face as he leans in, pressing a slow kiss to your lips.

When he pulls back, he looks at you for a long moment, his forehead resting against yours. "I don’t want to rush this," he whispers. "I want to remember every moment of tonight."

You nod, your breath hitching. Ruben’s hands are gentle, almost reverent, as they move over every inch of you, he’s not rushing – every touch, every kiss, every bite, it all feels like he’s savoring you. His lips finding every spot that makes you shiver, his teeth grazing over your skin like he’s marking you, claiming you in the most tender way possible.

His lips trace the curve of your neck, and then his teeth nip just below your ear. You gasp, your body involuntarily arching into him, but he doesn’t hurry. He moves lower, his lips finding the soft, sensitive skin of your collarbone, then your shoulder, trailing kisses all the way down your arm. When he bites lightly on the inside of your elbow, you can’t suppress the moan that escapes you, the sensation tightening everything inside of you.

He’s taking his time with every inch of your body, moving from one part of you to the next, his lips leaving behind a trail of heat in their wake. Your skin feels on fire, the sensation of him against you so intoxicating that it’s nearly impossible to focus on anything else. Your breath comes faster, your heart pounding in your chest, and despite the way his touch makes you feel completely undone, you can’t help but want more. You need more.

“Ruben…” you murmur, barely able to catch your breath. Your voice cracks with the desperation you feel deep inside, your body pulsing with the need for him. “Please…”

He pauses for a moment, looking up at you with that same adoring, almost possessive gaze. His lips are swollen, his chest rising and falling just as rapidly as yours. But he doesn’t speak. He just studies you, the desire in his eyes nearly suffocating in its intensity. And then his mouth returns to your skin, moving lower, his lips kissing, biting, teasing, marking every inch of your body as if he’s trying to make it impossible for you to ever forget this moment.

You bite your lip, trying to hold it together, but it’s becoming unbearable, the longing inside you too powerful to ignore. “Ruben,” you beg again, your voice full of want. “Please… take your clothes off.”

The heat is building so quickly between you both that you can’t hold back anymore. He doesn’t need any more encouragement. Ruben moves quickly, almost impatiently now, but still with that careful tenderness. He unbuttons his shirt, tossing it aside without breaking his eyes from you. 

He stands over you for a second, his body in front of you like it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. The smooth lines of his chest, the way his muscles shift as he moves, it’s enough to make your breath hitch again. His eyes flicker to yours, and then his hands are at the waistband of his pants, swiftly unbuttoning them. The anticipation, the waiting, makes your chest tighten with excitement, and your heart races as he steps out of his pants, leaving him standing in only his boxers.

Then Ruben leans down over you, his hands on either side of your face, his lips brushing over yours in the softest kiss. But it’s not enough. Not anymore. His hands slide down to your waist, the desire in his eyes is like fire, and you know he’s feeling it just as much as you are – burning with it, aching for it. You can’t stand the waiting anymore.

“Please…” you whisper, your voice trembling with the need that’s been building since he first touched you. “I can’t wait anymore.”

Ruben doesn’t need any more words. His mouth finds yours again in a kiss so full of hunger and longing, it’s like he’s trying to devour you, to take in every part of you. 

His fingers rest at the edge of your mouth before gently slipping two of them inside, grazing your tongue in slow, deliberate circles.

“Is this what you want?” he asks, his voice shaken, but still trying to sound calm, controlled.

You can’t answer immediately, not with his fingers pressing against your lips, so you shake your head instead.

He chuckles softly, that familiar teasing smile tugging at his lips. “I thought you wanted to feel me inside of you, amor.” 

Your heart races in your chest as he tilts his head, still smiling, before slowly pulling his fingers from your mouth. His touch lingers for a moment, then he lowers his hand.

“Okay, I’ve got a better idea. Let’s put them somewhere else,” he says, his voice low with intent.

He takes your hand, guiding it to help him, though you both know he doesn’t really need it. He’s still teasing you. He gently moves your underwear aside, pushing those two fingers, now dripping wet with your spit, inside of your cunt. His touch is slow, in-and-out, and you can’t help but shiver at the feeling of him finally as close as you want him, as you need him to be.

“Better now?” he asks, pride in his voice as he watches your reaction, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You nod, unable to hide the warmth building inside you. “Better,” you whisper.

His other hand, gentle, caresses the side of your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek – and then he kisses you. His mouth is warm and comforting against yours, you pull him a little closer, needing the warmth of him, the closeness, and he responds, his body pressing against yours as if to reassure you that he’s there, that he’s not going anywhere. 

His free hand moves to your breasts, tracing your nipples, and you let out a soft sigh against his lips. For a long moment, you stay like that – wrapped up in each other, his hands all over you, inside of you.

The kiss deepens, and the tension between you builds, quiet but undeniable. You can’t help it. You’re burning for him, every inch of your body craving his touch. “Ruben,” you breathe against his lips, voice thick with impatience. You want him, need him, and you can’t wait anymore.

He pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Patience," he murmurs.

You shake your head, frustration mixing with desire. “I can’t. Please...” The words barely make it out before you’re kissing him again, harder this time, desperate for more.

The layers of clothes still left between you seem to vanish, almost without thought. It’s frantic but tender, your undergarments are now tangled up in the bedsheet, forgotten as you both move with a desperation that matches the intensity of the kiss. His body is pressed against yours again, both of you shivering, not from the cold, but from the need, the desire.

There’s a quiet moment when everything slows, and Ruben finally enters you, right when the rush of your heartbeats begins to sync with his. You’re finally with him in every way you’ve wanted all night. The space between you is gone, and you feel the weight of his cock settle deep in you, like everything is exactly where it should be. His hands trace the curves of your body, holding you close, and you can’t help but feel a deep, overwhelming sense of fulfillment.

It’s not just the closeness, it’s knowing you’ve reached this place with him, that all the moments leading up to this have led to this perfect connection. The feeling of being his, of being his wife, settles over you in a way you can’t quite explain, but it feels like the missing piece of something you’ve been looking for your entire life.

The sweat on your skin feels... beautiful. It’s a sign of how deeply you’ve shared this moment. The heat of it doesn’t make you want to pull away – it makes you want to stay wrapped up in it, in him.

You can feel your pulse under his touch, the rise and fall of his breath against your neck, and everything feels so perfect, so right. This is what you always wanted, and it fills you up, leaving no room for anything else.

You feel whole in a way you never have before, like you’ve become the person you were always meant to be – his wife, his partner.

You move together in a rhythm that feels both slow and urgent, there’s a shared intensity between you both, a connection so deep that it feels like you’re no longer two separate people, but a single, intertwined whole. The world outside the villa fades to nothing as you lose yourselves in the moment.

His touch, gentle but firm, holds you closer, guiding you as you respond to him, the tension building, slow and steady. The way his lips brush against your skin, his breath quickening as you do the same, it all pulls you deeper into this shared space, where only the two of you exist.

Your bodies are a tangled mess of warmth and movement, a perfect harmony of wanting and giving, and you both reach the peak together. When it happens, it’s loud, the culmination of everything you’ve shared. Your heart races, and his matches the pace of yours, as you feel everything around you blur. His arms tighten around you, and you bury your face against him, trying to hold on to the moment, the feeling of being so completely and utterly present with him.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

The Third Love

Yunho x female reader Requested? Yes! Request: ‘friends to lovers ateez yunho fic 🥺💞’ Word count: 4k

The Three Love Theory The first love: the one that teaches you what love even is.  The second love: the hard love, the one that teaches you a lot of lessons.  The third love: the unexpected love, the one that’s meant to last. 

Yunho doesn’t know if he believes in love. 

He sees it and hears about it all the time. It’s a couple on the street that look totally head over heels for each other. Or it’s one of his friends wearing a dopey, lovesick expression after a date or simply receiving a text. Or it’s the hundreds of romcoms out there that were surely inspired by something real. He knows others feel it. But every run-in he’s had with love has left him feeling bitter and perhaps sometimes a little more hollow than when he started. 

He met you four years ago. You’re a hopeless romantic and love the idea of dating. He thinks that’s probably one of the reasons why you and San get along so well sometimes - it’s your shared love for love. San has known you for a long time but sort of lost contact when he left home to pursue being an idol. 

Then, one day San was overjoyed to find out that you’d taken a job here in Seoul and he couldn’t wait to reconnect and introduce you to his group members that had become a sort of family away from home. Yunho felt the stirring of something right away when he met you, but couldn’t quite put a name to it. 

You became a fixture in the dorms quickly. There were many nights that they’d come home from a late practice or recording and find you on the couch with some snacks having made yourself comfortable while waiting for them. Not a single one of them would ever say anything about it, typically joining you to unwind. 

On one of these occasions, the topic had turned to dating. Mingi was recovering about a recent breakup, one that had hurt quite a bit. You’d simply said, “it’s a second love then.” You’d been met with quite a few questioning glances and you explained. 

The first love was ideal. It’s the one that you get swept up in fast by, and it might fizzle out just as fast but you’ll never forget it because it’s your first. 

The second is the hard love. The one that you come away from learning a lot about yourself and others. It’ll hurt, but you’ll be better for it in the long run. You say this breakup is Mingi’s hard love. The acknowledgment, or maybe even just being to put a name to it as if it’s a universal experience, seems to make Mingi feel better and that was really the whole point of the conversation. 

You sigh and shrug about the third when asked. You say it’s supposedly the unexpected love. The one you didn’t realize you needed and it’s usually the one that lasts. You even look a little perplexed at the thought, because how do you find something unexpected?

Yunho’s in the same boat as you. You can’t go looking for unexpected. You have to wait for it to find you. 

~

Yunho knows you for only a couple years before it clicks. You hadn’t dated much before moving to Seoul. There were a few ‘super casual’ boyfriends as you call them - guys that asked you out and were nice enough, but you didn’t feel much for them. You’d agreed to the dates that you went on because there was no reason not to, but you didn't feel any particular way about things not working out. 

Your first love comes in the form of a guy named Junseo. He’s a new coworker of yours and Yunho distinctly remembers how giddy you were to tell San about him the day you met him. The next week, you’re even more excited to tell him that Junseo asked you out on a date. 

Yunho thinks he’s never seen you so happy, and San even agrees, at least when it comes to dating. It’s confirmed when you say that it’s never felt like this. You’re absolutely starry-eyed about everything Junseo does - the simple dates, the flowers, the gentlemanly behavior, the sex and intimacy. 

You don’t talk about that last part very much, but it’s something the boys tease you about, if only because of how you flush at the mention. Your mood can’t be dampened though, not even when Jongho rolls his eyes and says something like, “yes, he’s supposed to do all of that.”

But your mood does eventually dampen. When asked you shrug it off at first, but the boys press the issue. Junseo is distant lately. You don’t see him much anymore, not even around the office, and some of that effort has began to dwindle. The helpless look in your eyes tugs at Yunho’s heart strings, like you’re watching things slip through your fingers and can’t do anything to stop it. He enjoyed seeing you happy, even if there was some unknown conflict brewing inside of him sometimes. 

Then came the fateful day, you came over to the dorms, clearly upset. Junseo had gotten another job in another city and would be moving promptly. You said he apologized for the surprise, but he didn’t want to discuss it with you without some solid plans. This lights a fire under Yunho, as well as a few other members, because it sure sounds like he held onto that information so he could hang on to you in case this job fell through. 

San simply bundles you up in a blanket on the couch and feeds you ice cream while a romcom plays on the TV. Yunho simmers in anger that he can’t quite decipher all night. 

~

Your second love comes in the form of a guy named Siwoo. Even Yunho thinks he's pretty charming the few times he's met him. In private, you admit that you think he’s the third love because of how he seemed to come out of thin air and he’s kind of everything you ever wanted. 

You met him at the florist. He was there picking up flowers for his mother and immediately introduced himself and asked to get to know you. You were starry-eyed for everything about him too, but the more the boys heard about him, the more they weren’t sure about this. 

He worked crazy hours for an office employee and the most convenient time for you to see him was late at night. He’d come to your apartment in a suit and tie, and it was convincing. But at best, he was a workaholic that needed to take a vacation or two and leave at 5pm like most people, and at worst, he was doing something else with his time before he called you just before midnight a few times a week. 

Then there were the crazy amount of business trips. He’d disappear for weeks at a time, claiming to be super busy and unable to even send a text, only to reappear like there hadn’t just been radio silence. You defend him, claiming he’s just incredibly hard working. But within the group (and not around you), the boys debated if this was a red flag disguised as a hardworking nature. Yeosang argued that while he still wasn’t crazy about Siwoo, Ateez themselves kept some crazy schedules. Was that a red flag too? Wooyoung countered that as busy as he was, his phone was on him nearly 24/7 and he had moments to send a ‘Hi, how’s your day’ text at the very least, so to him it was a red flag. The group was divided on this.

And it should have been a red flag. The rest of the boys were busy and you and Yunho went out to grab some dinner. And who would you see but Siwoo?

But he’s with another woman, who’s wearing a big, sparkly ring and looks totally in love. They’re obviously on a date, and it’s not a new thing, judging by how he's wearing a ring too.

Yunho gets your food to go and lets you cry in the car. You say between sobs that he was supposed to be in Japan. And now you’re coming to terms as you let out a seemingly never ending steam of tears that you were a fool. The late night visits must have been him sneaking away from his partner. The long business trips were more than likely him having prior commitments with his partner and the radio silence was him attempting not to get caught. And those flowers he was buying when you met him? Probably not for his mother at all now that you think about it. 

Yunho lets you lean into him and cry for what feels like hours. At one point, he even pulls you half into his lap, if only because your sobs seem to ease the closer he holds you as he rubs your back soothingly. He hates it. And he hates Siwoo. 

But this is when two things click. Siwoo is your second love - the hard love that comes with lessons, and perhaps some trust issues in the future. Not the third love that you hoped he’d be. 

And Yunho can identify his feelings swirling in his gut now. It’s love, but to what degree and of which kind he’s not certain. And perhaps a little bit of jealousy is swirling too. 

~

You take a while to get over Siwoo. After you cried in his car, Yunho took you back to the blessedly empty dorm and helped you craft a breakup text between bites of reheated food, complete with the news that you know he’s been two-timing (or more, but it’s not worth finding out). Then you block him. You cry some more that night and your mood is impacted for weeks. 

You ask Yunho to not tell the whole story to the boys, lest they be out for blood. Yunho raises an eyebrow at you because he’s out for blood, but eventually relents, sticking to the story that you feed the others. It wasn’t going to work out and that’s all Yunho knows. That doesn’t stop the boys, particularly San, from pressing Yunho about it individually, since this breakup appeared to happen overnight while Yunho was with you. Yunho keeps his promise, though he’s still bitter about how things went for you and would love nothing more than to start an angry mob on your behalf. 

The surprise for Yunho is that his group members’ looks turn sly the moment your mood seems to lift. You leave the room and Wooyoung is pinning him with a look. “So, how long have you been into her?”

Yunho plays dumb. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“I mean that you guys have gotten exceptionally close since she broke up with that demon,” Wooyoung says. They don’t dare utter Siwoo’s name in the dorms or around you. It’s not just because of what your reaction might be. It’s on sight for any of them if they ever run into Siwoo, even if they don’t all know the whole story. You were hurt and that was all that mattered to them. 

Wooyoung continues, “You guys spend a lot of time together now, that’s all.” Wooyoung tries to seem innocent with this observation, but Yunho recognizes the mischief in his friend’s eyes. 

Yunho raises an eyebrow. “You spend just as much time with her. Are you into her?”

Wooyoung shrugs casually. “Sure, I’d date her. But I won’t step on your toes, don’t worry.” He looks so smug as the conversation shifts when you come back into the room. 

Yunho wonders how transparent he is. And maybe what they’re actually seeing, because he has no idea what it looks like on the surface. He can barely define what’s below the surface. 

~

Things keep shifting, or at least they do for Yunho. He is closer with you, not just in how much you both talk and spend time together, but physically as well. It happens so gradually that he barely realizes it happened. 

You go out with the boys to a club or bar, and he’s the one you hook your hand with to make sure you both stay with the group. 

You’ve basically claimed his passenger seat, and he doesn’t think anything of it to send his group members to the backseat. It starts as a ‘ladies, first’ sort of thing, but your name might as well be on the seat because he starts to feel weird about anyone else being in it. 

If you need to get something off a high shelf, he’s the first one you look at. Not that it matters, because he’s already approaching before you even look at him. He also doesn’t think anything of coming up behind you and placing a hand on your hip or waist as he gets what you need, his front pressed against your back. He really doesn’t mean anything by it, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it most of the time because it feels so natural. 

And he really doesn’t mean anything by it when the group is piled up in one of the dorm living rooms to watch a movie or play a video game and he pulls you into his lap to keep you from sitting on the floor. His hands find your hips and pull you down, arms folding around your waist when you fall into him. It happens in the blink of an eye. 

He doesn’t realize right away that he does any of this 99% of the time, and you show next to no reaction so he doesn’t think you realize either. But his group members do. What tips him off about how often these little things happen is the look his group members give him. He pulls you into his lap at the table when they’ve ran out of seats and Hongjoong is smiling and raising an eyebrow at him. Or he kicks Wooyoung to the back seat of his car and Wooyoung playfully rolls his eyes and mumbles something about preferential treatment. Or when you don’t think anything of sleeping over in Yunho’s bed with him, Seonghwa kind of looks like he might be planning a wedding. 

Once Yunho realizes where things are going, it petrifies him. He doesn’t want to be another first or second love for you. And he wonders what kind of love you’d be for him, because he’s been burned too. He’s not sure if he even wants to cross that boundary at all and risk the friendship you two have built. But he’s helpless to stop the way things are going now as the lines get a little blurrier with each passing day. 

~

San is the one to truly corner him about it. “What’s happening with you and Y/N?” 

Yunho raises an eyebrow. “Nothing? We’re friends.”

San narrows his eyes, nodding, though Yunho thinks it’s probably not out of agreement. San points to himself. “I’m friends with her. And I recognize that I’m pretty touchy. But there’s a whole new level to what’s going on with you guys.” Yunho stares, not really sure what to say. San purses his lips. “You know, I’d be fine with it, right? Not that I think you care much about approval, but we’d all be happy. Thrilled, really.”

“But why?” Yunho finds himself asking, even though questioning at all would make him run the risk of being found out. 

“Because it’s unexpected,” San shrugs. Yunho gives him a blank look and San rolls his eyes. “The three love theory. It’s unexpected for both of you, obviously, because you guys don’t even realize that you already act like a couple.”

Yunho shrugs and says he doesn’t know, which is the only genuine answer he has. 

~

The thing is, once he sees it, he can’t unsee it. It starts to eat him alive when he realizes how often his fingers twitch to reach out to you. Or how he’s always got you in his periphery, even if you aren’t the center of attention in the conversation. Or how he just assumes you both have plans when he’s free, and feels let down if you have prior commitments. 

For a while, there’s a suffocating element to it - this drive of unknown origin to be attached to you 24/7. Yunho’s a friendly, social person, but even he likes his space sometimes, and you are the biggest exception to the rule that he’s ever ran into. 

But then, he notices how it’s you that initiates things too. You’re the one that grabs his hand in a crowd. You’re the one that looks to him for help with something. You’re the one that asks for rides places. 

And like tonight during game night and the dorm, you’re the one to wedge yourself in between Yunho and Mingi's seats and fall into Yunho’s lap. He lets you, because of course he does. His fingers were itching for that spot on your hips to pull you in anyway. 

You’ve warned that you’ve had a long day and are pretty tired. So it’s not a surprise to anyone when you tap out of the next round at some point. It is somewhat of a surprise at how you curl up into Yunho’s chest. He plays a couple more rounds before tapping out as well and sitting back. You’re out like a light, unaware of any game night chaos happening around you. 

Hongjoong is giving him a look. Most of his group members not engrossed in the game are. “This is getting out of hand,” Hongjoong teases. 

“What is?” Yunho plays dumb, far more aware of what this might look like than he ever has been before. 

Hongjoong gives him an unimpressed look. “You’re not doing yourself any favors by dodging this. You need to start being honest.”

He feels all eyes on him besides yours now, game forgotten. “You guys are so nosy,” Yunho admonishes, though it does little good. 

“Remember what I said,” San muses before moving on to another topic. 

Yunho eventually carries you to bed and settles you in under the covers. He does remember what San said, but while lying next to you in bed, he’s not sure what to do with that. He lets you curl up into his side and is helpless to doze off before he figures it out. 

Perhaps he might never figure it out. 

~

You’ve met somebody. 

Ryung is a guy you met on a dating app. Yunho is a little bit crushed to find out that you downloaded them in the first place but knows he has no room to say anything, so he bites his tongue. 

He doesn’t miss the look at his group members give him here and there as you tell them about how you matched with Ryung and had been messaging with him for a few days now. He bites his tongue about that as well. You’ve taken your time getting past Siwoo, and it was only a matter of time before someone else would come along and show interest. 

Ryung is trying to meet up - for a date, for a coffee, for a hookup, you aren’t totally sure, which is why you haven’t committed to anything yet. You say there’s some security in just sticking to messages and sort of getting to know each other right now. Yunho swallows harshly because what’s not secure about him? Right here. Sitting next to you. 

You don’t notice that Yunho’s not said much tonight until it’s time for bed. He doesn’t say anything as you both go to his room and get ready to settle in, and you ask him if he’s okay. He says ‘of course’.

Yunho lays in bed next to you and lets you curl into his side like you always do, arm wrapped around you. It feels like he has to say something, so he tries to be casual. “I didn’t know you were on dating apps.”

You grip his t-shirt a little bit. “I wasn’t until recently. One of my coworkers encouraged it, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt.”

Yunho hums. He supposes it doesn’t hurt if you aren’t him. “Going on a date then?”

You shrug against him. “I don’t know. Do you think I should?” 

He doesn’t know why this question, out of all things you two have ever said or done, feels like standing at a precipice. It’s so risky to say anything besides, “yes, of course,” but he feels like he’s about to burst. 

“Selfishly?” He hesitates. You lift your head up to look at him and he’s helpless to not meet your eyes. “No. I wish you wouldn’t.”

You look confused, but perhaps not as confused as he expected you to be. Maybe you realized how things had shifted lately too. “Selfishly?” Yunho just nods, combing back your hair. “Why?”

Yunho likes to think he’s pretty brave, and perhaps even a little reckless sometimes, but this might even be too much for him. His mouth feels a little thick when he admits, “I don’t really like to watch you date other people. I wish it was me.”

Your eyes flare incrementally. You place your hand against his cheek and the whole thing is sickeningly sweet in a way that Yunho isn’t familiar with. “How long have you felt this way?”

Yunho shrugs. “I’m not sure, really. It kind of crept up on me.”

You give him a little smile. “Me too.” 

Like a lot of things with you, Yunho is helpless, so he leans in and slowly kisses you. It’s something he gets lost in, especially when you kiss him back. He only stops when he’s breathless. 

You sigh deeply against his lips. “What now?” 

“Delete your dating apps. I’m taking you out tomorrow.” 

You smile, rolling to grab your phone, unlocking it and handing it to him. “You do the honors.” 

And what an honor it is to hit the little X on each of those apps. 

~

You and Yunho try to be discreet at first. On the surface, not a lot changes in front of the group members. But the thing is, there’s no such thing as privacy in the dorm. 

Yunho has you in his lap and he’s been kissing you for what feels like hours and hopes there’s no end in sight. He could spend the rest of his life like this. 

The end in sight is Mingi barging into the room. You pull back from Yunho at the intrusion, but to his relief don’t try to scramble off of him or anything. You both pin Mingi with a look of irritation, though it doesn’t matter because Mingi is reeling back out of the room with his eyes covered, slamming the door behind him. Screams echo behind him. 

You give Yunho a mildly entertained look from where you’re perched on his lap, hands clasping his shoulders. “I guess the secret's out.”

Yunho laughs, fingers gliding up and down your back. “I’m not sure how much of a secret it was to begin with, baby.”

You laugh and lean into his lips again, but it’s interrupted by the loud announcement from the other room. Now the whole group must know. They’re cheering. Yunho stands up, placing you on the ground and walking to the bedroom door. “Are we facing the music now?” You tease, wondering if you should follow him. 

Yunho snorts, flipping the lock and coming back to you. “Not a chance.” As you giggle against his lips, he does think he believes in love now. 

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Hiiii I see u are taking request for Lucius Verus x reader.

I was thinking something like at the end when he becomes emperor he will need a new wife…👀 but he doesn't want a new wife so he tries to delay the choice, but then he meets the reader (us) and we can be whatever u like, I was thinking about like a slave or something idk.

Sorry if my English isn’t right !!

Hell yes I can write this for you ❤️❤️❤️ thanks for requesting!!

————-

“But Imperator—”

“But nothing,” Lucius interrupted, holding up a hand. “I have already made my decision.”

Ravi clicked his tongue in disapproval, lowering his voice. “It is no use being so stubborn, my friend.”

Lucius huffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “It is not without reason.”

“I know that, but that was another life, and her memory has carried you this far,” Ravi said, his tone tactful. “She would not want you to not have heirs to carry out your legacy.”

Lucius thought about it for a moment. He had fought so hard to get to where he was, staying alive despite the pain of his losses. Now that he was Caesar of Rome, he couldn’t let all his efforts go to waste and hand down the crown to just anyone. Especially knowing how easy it was for someone like Macrinus to try to seize control.

“I would be… open to having a meeting,” he began, but when Ravi’s face lit up, he lifted a hand again. “But that is no promise that things will progress beyond it.”

“Good enough for me,” Ravi said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I know someone, a widower, just like you. She was one of my patients, in the past.”

“I leave it in your hands, then. Bring her for dinner.”

—————

Lucius had no expectations about meeting you. In truth, a part of him had been dreading it, not knowing how he was going to act.

But when he saw you at the atrium with Ravi, he stopped in his steps. Ravi introduced you and you curtsied, daintily holding out your hand so you may kiss his ring.

Lucius blinked at you, unaware he was staring until Ravi cleared his throat. Reacting, he gave you his hand and you bent your head to kiss it.

When you straightened, you shared a slightly amused look with Ravi, biting down a chuckle.

“It is a great honor to meet you, Imperator Lucius,” you said. “Thank you for allowing me into your home.”

“The honor is mine,” he said, inclining his head and smiling a little. “Please, come sit. Would you like wine? Something to snack on?”

“Well, I cannot very well decline anything our gracious host offers, can I, Ravi?” You said, following both of them to the triclinium.

“But of course, Lady,” Ravi said.

Lucius offered his hand to help you onto the lectus, a couch where you could recline while dining. You took it, holding the skirts of your dress as you sat. He took the one across from you and Ravi sat on the one between both of yours.

Lucius shared a look with Ravi, who raised an eyebrow. Stubborn, he pursed his lips, but one of the corners still lifted in a small smile. It was then that Ravi knew he had done a good job.

“So, I should like you to tell me about you,” Lucius said, leaning forward eagerly.

“What would you like to know?” You asked, taking a sip of wine and hoping your face wasn’t too flushed from his attention.

“Everything,” he said. “If that is not too much for a first meeting.”

You laughed and he realized he wouldn’t mind listening to it echoing through the halls of the palace more often.

“Let us make a bargain, then, if it is not too presumptuous of me,” you said. “If by sunrise you are not satisfied with all I have shared, then perhaps we may reconvene for another meal.”

He didn’t even have to think about it twice. “I’ll take that bargain, though I suspect your coming back won’t be from lack of satisfaction.”

————

[vixen-tech]

Crossover Mayhem!

What's better than having one lovable robot in your house? Having eight in your house! How do they interact, how do they feel about each other, and just how did they get here?

Spolier alert but that last one is never answered, just enjoy some assorted silly self-indulgent headcanons in celebration of my first fic, Human's Touch, reaching 1,000 notes! As well as an official end to my hiatus

Includes: AM (Ihnmaims), Hal (2001: A Space Odyssey), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Tau (Tau), P03 (Inscryption), Auto (Wall-E), Glados (Portal), Wheatley (Portal 2)

The mystery of how you ended up with everyone safely in your own home is second only to how you managed to keep them all from trying to rip each other apart.

Although that doesn't necessarily mean that they get along, especially early on. AM, Glados, and P03 like threatening everyone and love threatening each other- at this point you're sure the three of them started bonding over it but you're not sure when.

P03 tends to be the most antisocial of the lot, hiding away in whatever room you've allotted for him. But he and Hal did teach each other Inscryption and Chess respectively (at your suggestion), and you'll often find them playing together. P03 continues to be a sore loser.

No one is quite sure what to make of Auto. Since he has a tendency to do and say nothing for hours at a time- moving from room to room and just, staring. Except Hal, Hal seems to get him. You're pretty confident they're friends but also pretty confident they've said next to nothing to each other.

Assuming you have the space for it, Tau would love to take up gardening. He'll often get visited by Edgar or Wheatley proding him with questions (which he is always happy to answer) or by Auto who especially likes(?) to watch the garden. In silence of course. Tau doesn't mind him all that much but Edgar and Wheatley will leave if they see him coming, they find Auto a tad unnerving.

Hal, Edgar, and Tau form something of a music club in your house. They take turns sharing songs they like or even singing, dispite the differences in genres. Tau especially loves listening to Edgar's original songs, he may even ask for pointers on writing his own.

Wheatley's inferiority complex gets extra bad- being in a small area with not only Glados, but all the others who all have one thing minimum they're great at. At least Hal, Tau, and Edgar are nice to him- but that's offset by AM and P03 joining Galdos in terrorizing him. You're going to have to do some work with him.

Edgar and Wheatley do specifically become something of a trouble maker duo. It's not unusual to hear shattering glass from the next room over and find them guiltily trying to hide a broken plate. Although you tend to forgive them pretty easily (much to Glados's frustration) on account that it's almost always an accident.

You do your best to organize bonding activities for everyone. To varying levels of success. Your old reliable is putting on a movie or show and setting out random art supplies and board games. Once you even tried doing a video game tournament, but P03 got a bit too competitive for your liking. Most of them do appreciate you for trying though.

AM and Glados also click as a duo easily- but for all the wrong reasons. They love freaking everyone out, you included. AM gets into the habit of asking you disturbing, saw movie level 'would you rather' questions. He just enjoys creeping you out, but Galdos is always actually interested in your reasoning.

The others are healthily concerned about how comfortable you are around those two, but they're also constantly making jabs at the 'inferior robots'. Like- come on, why are you so attracted to the one literally titled the 'intelligence dampening sphere'. Aka: they think you're cool and smart and should hang out with them more, but of course they'd never plainly tell you that.

It does become a sort of running gag that finally they're the normal ones and you're the strange creature since you're the only human. They love poking fun at anything from your constant need to eat to the way you have to shut down for eight hours each night. God forbid you ever get sick.

Dispite, you know, owning the house they end up treating you by cat rules. You are liable to be pet (should you allow it), and if you fall asleep on someone it is unlikely they will move until you wake up. With the notable exceptions of Tau, who will bring you to your bedroom; and P03 who will feel little remorse at waking you up himself.

Needless to say you also have a fantastic home security system now. Between that being one of Tau's main jobs, AM and Glados being prone to homicide in general, and Auto having a taser (which was a surprise to everyone, they're all a little more concerned about him now) anyone who tries to break into your house is beyond screwed. They are not gonna let some random human hurt you.

Although the degree to which they show it differs wildly, they are appreciative of the home you've tried to make for them. Being free with some of the only other beings who could possibly understand their life experience is likely something they would have never been able to experience otherwise.

That may be why they haven't tried to destroy each other yet, the fear of good old mutually assured destruction. It would be just plain stupid to jeopardize your affection and thus their place in the house like that.

All in all, it certainly makes for a strange living arrangement but you cannot find it in yourself to regret the choices that led you to this point. You love your robots and you're at least seventy percent sure they love you to.

[naanima]

I needddd Max reaction! I NEED HIM TO GO FERAL ABOUT IT

This is part 2. Part 1 is here.

YES. HE WOULD. Max receiving the message of Daniel and his new back tattoo.

Not beta'd. Gods, this is so NOT edited in any way shape or form. But I wrote this in a half dazed frenzy. I'll post a proper copy of this and the first part as one whole fic sometime in the next few days on ao3. Thanks for being equally feral as me guys!

EXPLICIT: There's wanking and sex. Sort of.

1.48k words. I wrote over 2k words today. I am done. Probably tapped out writing wise for the next two to three days. Lols.

"MAAAX!" An arm went around his neck and a wet kiss missed his cheek, and was instead plastered across his head. More people joined and Max was pulled out into the heaving mass of people dancing to the club music.

Max was so happy, he was also so drunk, but he was so fucking happy. Every win was of course important. But this one, this one was so important, this year has been shit. The fucking worst. The car is shit, the people who had won with him, the ones he thought would be always with him had left, gone to the competition. He had thought he had finally gotten Daniel back, after years of not having him. That they were finally at a point in their lives that they could get their shit together and make it work. But that had been snatched away.

And he understood why Daniel couldn't stay, why he had to leave. Max wasn't a teenager anymore, he understood that F1 wasn't always fair. It was shit.At least Daniel had visited him in Monaco. At least he the past two years had allowed them to be together more often then they had.

Winning the WDC made it, not exactly worth it, but it made things easier to accept. Made it bearable.

He threw back his gin and tonic, and a full glass of gin and tonic was placed into his hand. He laughed, drank it all, passed the empty glass to whomever was closest, and jumped into the mass of people all celebrating his win. Their combined efforts gave Max the opportunity to win.

He didn't know how long he danced for, pulled in by people who wanted to hug him, kiss him on the cheek, tell him they loved him, then he was passed along to the next person, rinse and repeat. Max was so happy, Max wished Daniel was here with him, wished it was Daniel pulling him in to kiss him on the cheeks, maybe to miss and then they would end up kissing on the mouth. Daniel was so strong now, he would be able to lift him off the floor for a hug, and maybe Max could wrap his legs around his waist, and then - fuck, he needed to stop. He was so hot, and the air felt like thick molasses, and Max was a bit dizzy, and fuck he needed to take a piss.

He stumbled his way to the bathroom, avoided outstretched hands with a laugh, and told people, "I need to piss."

His phone buzzed as he was washing his hands at the sink. He looked down and saw Daniel’s name flash across the top of the screen. It didn't show the content, something he had set up so that he could have some privacy from fans, the media and the paparazzi.

He had received so many messages, from almost everyone in his life, but he hadn't received anything from Daniel yet. He knew he was in America, most likely in LA. But he had not received anything from Daniel.

But now Daniel was texting him, and Max could feel his heart beating faster. He was worried, not seriously, but he was a little concerned. But it was okay now because Daniel was messaging him, probably so that could congratulate him like had for every win he has had.

Max unlocked his phone and opened his messages, pulling up his message thread with Daniel. He didn't know what he was seeing at first. Didn't know why Daniel had sent him a picture of a naked man, but then everything clicked, the curls, the tattoos on the thigh, the muscled back and the ass that Max had dreamed about as a teenager, fuck, had dreamed about as an adult.

Shit, did Daniel send this by mistake, was it meant for someone else? Fuck that fucking person. God, Daniel looked so good, Max wanted to touch every bit of the exposed skin. And then Max took in Daniel's lower back, something gold and black on red skin just above his ass. And Max had to zoom in, squinted his eyes to look, and when it finally became apparent, Max’s hand tightened around his phone and a deep guttural groan escaped his lips.

And oh my fucking god. He was suddenly so hard, a whiskey dick apparently not making an impact at all in the face of a naked Daniel Riccardo. A Daniel Ricciardo who had branded himself with Max's name right above his ass, and what the fuck was Max meant to do with that. His brain felt like it was on fire, his whole body felt like it was too small for his needs, he was sweating, and he suddenly felt like he was starving. A deep ache that needed to be filled, felt as if it could consume him if he let it. Fuck. Max needed to come right now.

He made his way into one of the cubicles, locked the door and sat on top of the closed toilet. He had to hold his phone under his chin as he used both of his hands to unzip himself, to pull his pants off so that he could reach his dick. And gods it felt so fucking good, his pre-come overflowing across his hands, running down his dick.

He used his right hand to hold the phone up so that he could see Daniel's naked back, so that he could see his initials, his wins, his fucking brand on Daniel. His left hand formed a tight wet channel around his cock as he fucked into it. He kept on looking at the tattoo, thought about tracing his name in gold with his fingers, thought about kissing it, licking it with his tongue, biting into it until he left his teeth marks on top of it. His hands pressing into it as he went down the curve of Daniel's ass. His mouth and tongue licking downwards till he reached Daniel's tight hole. He could bring so much pleasure to Daniel, could make him squirm and moan, shake and cry like a mindless drooling toy, could make him come on his tongue as he held him down by his hips.

He could fuck slowly into Daniel using just his spit and his pre-come, his dick buried deep, and then slowly pull out as Daniel’s body tried to hold him in, all the while watching Daniel's lower back, his name tattooed onto smooth skin. Daniel had branded himself for Max. Had made himself his, and Max wanted Daniel here, he wanted to suck Daniel's dick, push his face into his pubes, wanted to come over Daniel's back, his come all over his name in gold and black ink. He could lick his own come off Daniel's back afterwards, could push his own come into Daniel’s red used hole, and - fuck, his body tensed all over, his brain whited out, and he came with a long deep moan, and he might have blakced out for a split second. When he came back into himself, his come was cooling all over his hand and he could feel some on his chin.

His pants were half off his ass, and his spent dick was out in the open air. But he didn't really care, he felt relaxed and saited. His phone was still held tightly in his hand, the screen black now. And he realised that he hadn't responded to Daniel. He unlocked his phone, looked at the picture of Daniel, felt his dick twitch, didn't think, just snapped a photo of his spent and sent it to Daniel.

Halfway to pulling his pants up a thought struck him, and he unlocked his phone again to google for an answer. He almost threw his phone against the cubicle’s wall. Barely contained himself from screaming in frustration as he sent a message to Daniel.

TO DANIEL: Daniel, a tattoo can take up to 8 weeks to heal!?

Fuck this shit. He had waited for nearly a decade for a sign from Daniel that he would be interested. And now that he has got his answer it was going to take eight fucking weeks before he could lick, bite and fucking push his hands into the gold of his name on Daniel's back. Fuck this shit.

Max Verstappen was a four times world champion. He played to win, took the gap no matter how small if it meant he could win it all. Daniel had given him a free and open invite for the rest of his life, and Max was not going to let Daniel have a chance to ever doubt his decision to make him Max’s.

TO DANIEL: Daniel. This means you are mine now, and it is of course only fair if you know I am yours. I always wanted a tattoo, and “3” is my favourite number.