#giving the impression of frustration / let’s do this

[candy69gurl]

Sooo what is your thought in bully sukuna x shy reader? I think it's kinda hot tho. Like imagine sukuna picking on you every day bc he is obsessed with reader 🥴😩

ENSNARED

PAIRING bully Sukuna x shy reader

WARNING slight non/con, mean Sukuna (obv), m!masturbation, jealousy, slight mentions of Jin Itadori, mentions of violence, public harassment, little comfort?, slight dacryphilic Sukuna, fingering, clit rubbing, use of nicknames (brat, slut), slight exhibitionistic Sukuna, raw sex, m!cum on f!face

"G-give that back to me," you attempt to snatch your notebook from Sukuna's grasp, but he intentionally keeps it just out of reach, smirking wickedly.

"Oh, are you truly desperate for this piece of shit?" He asks teasingly, enjoying your frustration. "Perhaps if you beg prettily, I might consider letting you have it back."

Your desperation grows with each attempt, as you frantically lunge and twist to snatch the notebook from Sukuna's skilled hands. He shifts it from one hand to the other, juggling it playfully, prolonging your torment. His eyes gleam with mischief as he watches you struggle, enjoying the power struggle between the two of you. "Beg," he urges, leaning closer to whisper the word in your ear, making the situation even more agonizing.

In your frantic attempts, you lose your balance and accidentally land on top of him. Your body settles over his lap, unknowingly straddling what seems to be a rather significant bulge beneath his clothes. Sukuna's smirk falters for a moment, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as you finally tear the notebook from his grip and scurry away, completely oblivious to the chaos you've caused. "You... you have no idea, do you?" he stammers, trying to regain his composure, a mix of embarrassment and amusement coloring his voice.

You glare at Sukuna, your eyes narrowing in anger as you hold the now-precious notebook tightly. Your cheeks red from embarassment and anger. Without another word, you turn on your heels and storm away, leaving him behind, his laughter trailing behind you.

Little did you know, the incident had left a lasting impression on him, and the game of cat and mouse between you and the school bully would continue, fueling his obsession with you even further.

As the night falls, Sukuna tosses and turns, unable to shake off the vivid memory of your accidental encounter earlier that day. His erection strains against his pants, a painful reminder of the power you unwittingly hold over him. "Damn you, little brat," he curses under his breath, frustration mixing with desire. He tries to distract himself with other thoughts, but his mind keeps returning to the image of you, sitting on his lap, completely unaware of the effect you had on him.

Unable to resist any longer, Sukuna's hand slips beneath the covers, wrapping around his throbbing member. He jerks himself roughly, visualizing your innocent face and the way your body had felt against him earlier. Each stroke brings him closer to release, and he moans softly, fantasizing about the day when he'll claim you as his own, asserting his dominance over you in every sense. The thought pushes him over the edge, and he sighs in relief as he spends himself, imagining your surprised expression when he finally makes you submit to his desires.

As he releases, a satisfied smirk graces his lips. "Soon, little brat," he murmurs, "I will.. fucking make you mine." He cleans himself up and drifts off to sleep, dreams filled with fantasies of dominating and possessing you, eager for the day when he could make you his in every way possible.

The next day, Sukuna finds himself walking down the hallway, his eyes desperately trying to locate you. He is determined to start the day by bullying you. He eventually finds you leaning against your locker, talking to none other than Jin Itadori, another nerd he picks on.

Jealousy surges within him, the sight of you with someone else igniting his possessive nature. He approaches the scene, casually inserting himself into the conversation, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Mind if I join you two? I heard there's some juicy gossip going around," he says, his eyes never leaving you.

Sukuna's arms wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close and shielding you from the boy's advances. "You want to date her? Just look at her, she's as ugly as fuck. You can do so much better than this pathetic excuse for a human." His words drip with contempt, and his tone is dismissive.

Embarrassment floods you as Sukuna's cruel words echo through the hallway, drawing stares and snickers from the surrounding students. Jin, unable to handle the situation any longer, offers you an awkward smile before retreating and leaving you alone with Sukuna. Tears start to form in your eyes, and you struggle to maintain your composure in front of your tormentor. "You should be thanking-"

With a sudden burst of anger, you slap Sukuna across the cheek, the sound reverberating through the now-silent hallway. "I hate you!" you cry out, your voice cracking with emotion. For once, the tables have turned, and the roles are reversed – now it's Sukuna who feels humiliated in front of his peers.

Sukuna's eyes flash with anger, and before you know it, he seizes your hair, his fist clenching to strike you. The room erupts in chaos as classmates rush forward to pull you and Sukuna apart. As they separate you, his eyes burn with fury, promising retribution later. "This isn't over, little brat," he growls, his voice low and menacing. In the midst of the confusion, you can't help but wonder how far he'll go to assert his dominance and exact his revenge.

After school, you are the last student in the classroom. You quickly gather your belongings and stuff them into your bag. The sooner you leave school, the sooner you can get away from the stress of the day's activities.

Just as you're about to exit the classroom, your gaze shifts left, revealing Sukuna's smirking face. He's been waiting for you to finish what you're doing so he can pounce on you; now that you're both alone, no one can stop him.

His eyes gleam with satisfaction as he grabs your wrist, yanking you back and pinning you to the ground under his weight. "Nowhere to run, little brat," he chuckles, holding you down with an iron grip. "Time for your punishment." Fear and adrenaline course through you as you struggle against him, knowing that you can't escape his grasp.

Afraid and overwhelmed, tears stream down your face as Sukuna looms over you. To your surprise, his demeanor shifts, and he hastily gets off you, cradling your trembling form in his arms. "I didn't mean to scare you," he murmurs, his voice surprisingly gentle.

You continue to sob, the mixture of fear and humiliation overwhelming you. Sukuna holds you tightly, his grip softening as he tries to offer comfort. "Please don't cry," he whispers, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back. "I won't hurt you, little brat. You just need to learn your place, that's all." Despite his words, you can't help but feel uneasy, knowing that his intentions might not be entirely genuine.

His hands cup your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. Your teary, puppy-like fearful eyes, your bruised lips from when he pinned you down, everything appears irresistible to him. He licks his lips as arousal surges through him, seeing you so vulnerable.

His fingers brush against your lips as he leans down to kiss your cheeks, tasting your tears. He moves further down letting his lips brush against yours. The kiss is slow and deliberate, his tongue sliding into your mouth with authority. Shock courses through you, your tears drying up as his dominance is once again asserted. But amidst the shock, a strange feeling of desire begins to stir within you, leaving you both confused and anxious.

As you recover from the shock, his kiss intensifies, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer. The unexpected intimacy leaves you both breathless and uncertain, your heart pounding in your chest. His lips are insistent, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive fervor. "You're mine, little brat," he whispers against your lips, his words laced with possession and dominance. You can't help but wonder what this new development means for your turbulent relationship.

As his lips continue their relentless assault, Sukuna's hands reach inside your skirt, his fingers tracing the outline of your thighs before finding their way to your most intimate place. Your breath hitches, the surprise and embarrassment from earlier replaced by an unwelcome arousal. "Does my little brat like that?" he murmurs, his voice tinged with satisfaction as he feels your reaction. His fingers delve deeper, his touch both demanding and thrilling. The intensity of the moment leaves you gasping for breath, your body betraying your mind's resistance.

With a triumphant smirk, Sukuna slides his finger inside you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. "So wet for me, little brat," he praises, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You should be ashamed, wanting me even after I embarrassed you in front of everyone." His words are a mix of pleasure and reprimand, further fueling your confusion and desire. You can't help but squirm under his touch, your body responding to his touch despite your mind's protests.

He thrusts his finger deeper, your walls clenching around him in response. "Such a naughty little brat.." he growls, his thumb caressing your clit. Your breath hitches, your body arching involuntarily under his expert touch. "But don't think this means I've forgiven you," he warns, his finger thrusting in and out in a slow, rhythmic pace. "You still have much to learn, and I'll teach you every lesson you need." You close your eyes, a mixture of shame and pleasure washing over you.

He lifts you up on one of the benches, bringing his erection towards your core. Your core gushing around his shaft, his groan of desire echoing through the still classroom. With a smirk, he frees his cock from his pants, the sight of it causing your breath to catch in your throat. He proceeds to rub the engorged member against your clit, his movements slow and deliberate. You try to resist, whispering a half-hearted "Wait..," but his eyes are filled with determination.

Despite your protests, he ignores your pleas and guides his member to your entrance. Forcing himself into you, he pushes past your resistance, his size causing a burning sensation. You whimper and whine, struggling against him, but his strength is overwhelming. "Quiet, little brat," he snarls, his cock stretching you wide. "Take it like the good little slut you are." You can't help but surrender to his force, your body adjusting to his intrusion as his thrusts become more forceful. "W-what if someone..?", your voice quivering, the thought of somebody seeing you like this is almost revolting to you..

What will everyone say? The shy innocent girl getting fucked by her bully and also that she is enjoying it? Yet, you cannot deny the pleasure he is giving you. You don't want him to stop.

"No one's coming", Sukuna interrups , "Even if someone sees us, let them know you just pretend to be shy... but you are in reality a masochist slut."

The combination of pain and pleasure washes over you, your body betraying your will once again. Your protests turn into moans, your hips moving in tandem with his. The intensity of the situation leaves you breathless, your mind conflicted between desire and fear. Despite yourself, you begin to enjoy the rough ride, your body responding to his dominance.

As his thrusts become more forceful, he cups your face, his eyes locked on yours. "You feel so good, little brat," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I've fantasized about this so many times, imagining you wrapped around my cock." You blush, both mortified and flattered by his admission. "You don't know how much I like you," he continues, his words contradicting his usual cold demeanor. "Maybe too much."

His confession catches you off guard, your mind reeling from the unexpected sentiment. Despite your confusion, his words ignite a spark of affection within you. "L-like me..? then why?," you whisper, your eyes tearing once more..

Sukuna pauses, his eyes searching your face as if trying to decipher your thoughts. "You're mine, and I want you to know it," he says, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. "I'll always push you, force you to submit because I can't bear the idea of losing you." His thrusts resume, his movements fierce yet tender. "I enjoy seeing you struggle, hearing you beg, because it proves you belong to me."

He leans in, his lips grazing your ear. "It's my way of showing you how much I care, little brat," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I'll never let anyone take you from me, even if it means breaking you first." His words are both reassuring and terrifying, leaving you unsure of how to feel about this new revelation.

Despite your confusion, the intensity of the moment leaves you breathless, your body responding to his every move. His declaration has opened a door to a whole new realm of emotions, leaving you both scared and entranced by his possessiveness. The love-hate dynamic between you grows more complex with each passionate thrust, your future now intertwined with the man who both torments and cherishes you.

With a smirk, Sukuna reaches inside your shirt, his fingers finding your breasts through your bra. He kneads your nipples roughly, your breath hitching at the sudden sensation. "Such a pretty sight, my little brat writhing under me," he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck to find your lips. His kiss is both possessive and demanding, his tongue dueling with yours in a heated dance.

Your body responds to his touch, your nipples hardening in his grasp. The mix of pain and pleasure leaves you gasping, your mind clouded by the sensations. His kiss deepens, his tongue exploring your mouth, his hands roaming freely over your body. The dual assault leaves you breathless, your arousal reaching new heights.

As his kisses become more intense, so do his thrusts. You can't help but become more responsive, your body surrendering to his domination. The intimacy and brutality blend together, leaving you both exhilarated and terrified by the intensity of the experience. Your resistance melts away, your body craving the release that only he can provide.

He watches your face intently, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "That's it, little brat," he growls, "let go for me." You can feel the heat building within you, your body ready to explode.

As you reach your climax, your inner muscles contract around his cock, milking him in a rhythmic pulse. Sukuna groans, his own release nearing. With a growl, he pulls out, his seed shooting across your face in a hot spray. You gasp, your eyes widening at the sudden intrusion. "There," he says, a triumphant glint in his eye. "Now you're marked, my little slut."

Your breath hitches, the cooling semen on your face a testament to his claim. The shock of the action leaves you speechless, your mind struggling to process the intensity of the situation.

As Sukuna zips up, his eyes rake over your body, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Clean yourself up," he commands, raising a hand in dismissal before turning on his heel and striding away. You're left on the ground, still panting from your orgasm, your mind reeling from his abrupt departure.

You watch him leave, your mind reeling from the whirlwind of emotions. As he disappears from sight, you can't help but feel abandoned. With shaking hands, you wipe the semen from your face, a small part of you feeling humiliated yet another part aroused by the act. Your body still buzzes from the encounter, your heart racing. You rise slowly, your legs unsteady beneath you, and make your way back to your quarters.

Does he really like me?

The questions linger, unanswered, but you know one thing for certain - you belong to him, body and soul.

[frudoo]

Hubby Gaz pampering his baby mama <3

Warnings: Pregnancy, fem!reader, mildly sassy Kyle lol

Fluff ahead 🤍

“Love, just let me do this for you,” Kyle sighs, brushing the wispy strands of hair out of your face.

You shake your head, lips pouty and tears threatening to spill. You were laying on the couch, attempting to put some pretty polish on your toenails despite being any day from giving birth. Your excuse? To make a good first impression on the baby. Kyle didn’t dare argue with your logic, but he’d be damned if he let you put more unnecessary strain on yourself.

“I can do it myself,” you insist, trying to contort your heavily pregnant body in a way that allows you to reach your toes.

Unsurprisingly, you can’t do it, and another frustrated sob escapes your throat. Kyle just places a second pillow under your head to get you comfy, taking his seat at the opposite end of the sofa and plopping your calves onto his lap. He massages your sore feet for a while, grinning at the content sniffle you let out.

“Gonna let me take care of you, now?” He questions with an amused hum, gently rubbing his way up to your swollen ankles.

You huff in response but nod anyway, fidgety hands finally taking rest on the curve of your belly. The baby inside rewards your touch with a strong kick to your palm, and you would find it cute if it wasn't for the jab to your ribs that followed. Kyle chuckles at your pained whimper, one hand coming up to rub your bump fondly.

“Just a while longer, my dove,” he coos, patting your tummy a couple of times before reaching for the bottle of nail polish you’d chosen earlier.

“Easy for you to say,” you roll your eyes, adjusting the pillow that you had placed beneath your back when you were sure you could do it on your own. “You don’t have to push a whole child out.”

“No, but I have to hear you whinin’ about it,” he shrugs, curving his lips into a sly smile when he feels your glare concentrated on him. “I’m only teasin’, love.”

Another huff escapes you before Kyle finally swipes the first coat of paint onto your toenail. He’s surprisingly precise, tongue bit between his teeth in concentration. Everything about his actions is calculated, each stroke of the polish-coated brush flawlessly coating its keratin canvas with ease. You giggle, and he finishes painting your pinky toe before looking up at you with a quirked eyebrow.

“Somethin’ funny, dove?” He questions, gently blowing cool air onto the fresh polish to encourage it to dry, which only makes you giggle more.

“You’re so focused. It’s cute,” you beam, watching as he dips the wand into the little glass bottle to collect more shiny polish in the bristles.

“Just makin’ sure you give the little one a good first impression, like you said,” he teases, one emollient palm cradling the base of your other foot to color your unpainted toenails.

You hum softly, eyes fluttering shut as your sweet, doting husband continues to tend to you, making sure that no spot is left unpolished because he knows it would just give you grief. Once he’s satisfied with his work, he glances up to see you fast asleep, chest and belly rising and falling in sync with your deep breaths. He grins, carefully shifting your legs off of his lap to stand, then leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

When you wake up, you’re in bed with a fresh, matching coat of shiny polish on your fingernails.

[somebebop]

A secret observer?

PLEASE DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY.

This idea first came to me when I was going through the fantastic ‘filters as POV markers’ meta by @somehow-a-human

The inconsistencies in the way the filters are used made me think that some parts of the narrative may be shown from a yet unknown POV. Let’s be honest, someone spying on our ineffable boyfriends is not a novel idea. It has been done before:

And there is an episode which finally started to make some sense to me when I applied this idea.

There is nothing I find as frustrating  in s2 as Aziraphale’s trip to Edinburgh. The point is, I really really don’t think this angel is an idiot. And neither does Crowley, whose POV is supposedly what we see here. Yet the way Aziraphale behaves in the pub appears to be terribly stupid or at least devoid of logic. 

Just think, mere hours ago, when Muriel arrived to his bookshop, Aziraphale smirked and exchanged glances with Crowley about all the constable and cuppertea silliness. And then here he is, our Nefertiti-fooling fellow, who has been living on Earth for 6000 years - acting as if he’s just stepped out of the elevator from Heaven. 

These two conversations really start in a similar way:

Even their excitement to be considered convincing in their roles looks the same.

And further on in the pub Aziraphale just gives us a vivid demonstration on how to NOT convey an investigation.

He came, made an IMPRESSION, refused a drink (which could’ve helped to chat up the pub owner), asked some questions, interrupted the speaker, found out ONE small detail, grabbed the booklet and left. After all the detective novels he ever read, seriously?

For me this looks like a performance, a show, just like the one with the bullet catch. Or the one with Job, when even the most awkward lies were swallowed by a perceptive audience. I think Aziraphale knows there is a similar audience in the Resurrectionist (and possibly elsewhere in Edinburgh). He is playing a part for an observer we have no idea about.

What he actually found out, what happened to the briefcase, why the trip was necessary, why Aziraphale went to the graveyard - maybe we would know it all, if we saw this trip from Aziraphale’s actual POV.

[moeblob]

What Deacon thinks: what did that mean? did he want me to wear a collar too? why else would he mention my neck? i mean, if he /asked/ me i would wear one but he didn't so would wearing one be weird?

What Ymber meant: It's nice to be near someone who isn't tethered to this world to serve it with a physical reminder for all to see.

[thewatercolours]

Podfic: "Captive Crown" by GerbilofTriumph

A shabby narration of GerbilofTriumph's excellent King's Quest fanfiction, "Captive Crown," complete with outrageous attempts at accents and enough bloopers to start a drinking game (with um, raisin juice. There are too many goofs for the real stuff.) This wonderful fiction, full of courage, nightmares, and healing, is gratefully recorded and shared with permission of the author, @gerbiloftriumph. Go check out her awesome creative blog.

All seven chapters are available at the link above, but if you just feel like listening to the first chapter while you scroll, voila:

Original text here:

[isfjmel-phleg]

🌋

[moodr1ng]

now i stopped playing pentiment in the middle of act 2 and just checked wiki articles to see what takes place in the rest of the game so maybe im missing some crucial gameplay that wouldve fixed all my issues but. at the risk of being excommunicated (lol) i was rly disappointed w the games structure and thats why i didnt keep going. dgmw i really enjoyed the setting and most of the gameplay and throughout act 1 i was really invested in the story and mystery and investigation, and the game was really cool in a lot of ways. but. in the end. a mystery/investigation story that doesnt have an answer and whoever you accuse will be found guilty and there is no right or wrong just does not work for me and i can only see it as a poor decision.

yes ik that in the end you can uncover the "big bad" mastermind who provoked the murders, but to me putting a twist villain who isnt the actual culprit but who motivated the culprits in the end of the game doesnt make up for, like, the rest of the game? an investigation story where your investigating is meaningless does not make sense to me. was that the point of the game, maybe? to make me feel like nothing i did in the game mattered and i had no power over the setting? i certainly felt that way at times - in act 2, i felt like i had kind of spent the entire first act playing a role (in the rpg sense - as in it definitely felt as if i got to make a lot of choices about who andreas is, what he values, what his morals are) only for that to not matter at all as in the next act i had to play as someone who had made choices that seemed meaninglessly selfish and was in the uncomfortable situation of apologizing in-character for stuff that the character i had previously been playing as, who i thought i was making meaningful choices as, who i had been trying to make as considerate and kind as possible, would not have done.

i think if the point is that i dont actually have control in this game, not over the main character, not over the events, not even over figuring out the truth, then yeah, i had that impression. but thats not really the game i thought i was playing? i thought i was playing a game where my choices mattered and where i was solving a mystery and that was not the case.

idk. maybe i had specific expectations i shouldnt have had, or maybe i just failed to get something about the game, but despite being very beautiful in its graphics and having a lot of fun stuff and interesting characters.. when i finished act 1 i still thought "fuck, i didnt play well enough, i didnt uncover all the clues i shouldve and i didnt get to the correct conclusion, im gonna need to replay this to figure out who the actual culprit was!"... only to find that actually what felt like i had failed this part of the game was the intended way it would go down, and i even had accused the person who imo was the best choice of culprit.. i feel like getting to the end of an investigation arc with what should have been the most satisfying ending for me and instead thinking i had fucked it up and played wrong is a very unsatisfying way to write a mystery and it put me off enough that im not really interested in doing it all over again just so i can finish the game.

[perenlop]

i need to find another pmd project to love on relentlessly to make up for that. i almost feel bad hating on a fan project like that

[emmyrosee]

Sukuna hates how petty you can get when you’re fighting.

There is a part of him that loves your stubbornness, sure, like when you huff at him and make him work for your affection, but right now, you’re on day three of the silent treatment, and he’s losing it.

You enter a room and he’s already in it, you leave. You’re talking to yuuji and he comes in, you stop talking immediately. You haven’t been staying the night anymore, and you haven’t given him a kiss goodbye any time you’ve left. Even his ma is questioning what he did wrong, and he can’t give her a concrete answer.

He’s losing it.

Hes spammed texted you, he’s been trapping you in rooms by leaning in the doorframe, he’s been trying to get yuuji to be his messenger, but nothings working. You’re not biting.

“You’re over complicating this,” yuuji shakes his head and thumbing through channels. “Literally just apologize.”

“At this point I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for!”

“Well they’re on their way over, thinking you’re going to apologize, so you’d better figure it out.”

“You’ve been an immense help, thank you, asshole.”

As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door, and when Sukuna takes a deep breath and answers it, you nearly spin on your heel to leave.

“Oh I don’t think so,” he snips, grabbing your hand and pulling you in the house and trying not to focus on how you’re not even fighting against him, and that’s how indifferent you are to him. “We’re talking. Like it.”

“Hey dawg!” Yuuji cheers, clicking off the tv and waving. You wave back, your streak of not talking in front of Sukuna continuing. The younger chuckles, “I’ll let the adults duke it out. See ya!”

The room fills with silence as yuuji leaves, making Sukuna immensely uncomfortable. The way you’re looking at him has him uncomfortable, you’re making him so uncomfortable, and he just wishes you’d toss your pride to the side and talk to him and cuss him out or something.

“You look… good.”

Nothing.

“I’ve missed you.”

Nada.

“I made out with someone else because I got sick of you ignoring me.”

You scowl at him.

“Okay, I was lying. I was hoping you’d cuss me out.”

No dice.

“You’re acting like a fucking child!” He takes a deep breath in to try and ground himself, and you merely watch him with a hurt expression.

Okay. That didn’t help his situation.

“Fucks sake,” he grumbles, making a move to guide you backwards. He’s got you backed into a wall, hands on your shoulders while your arms stay nonchalantly crossed.

“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me; what did I even do?” He snaps, leaning close to your face threateningly.

You blink unamused.

Oh.

You’re gonna speak alright. He’s gonna make sure of it.

“Speak.”

You merely look him up and down and turn your head.

“Talk! Now!”

You let a tired exhale through your nose pass.

“I said i was sorry, and i know you know that was hard for me, why am i still being punished by you?” It’s bait to make you mad and talk, he knows he hasn’t apologized to the most sincere of his ability, but he hasn’t done anything wrong.

“Maybe I’ll tickle ya, how about that?”

That, does, have your eyes widening but you still don’t spare him a breath. He smirks, “I’d bet you’d hate that, huh? Holding in all that laughter and begs for me to stop, knowing I’m not going to until you talk to me… and I’ll do it too. You know that.”

You merely cross your arms over your chest tighter.

He shrugs, “you asked for it.”

And he’s gotta say, he’s impressed with how little you’re fighting back from him scooping you in his arms and tossing you on the couch, straddling you, even taking your two wrists in his massive paw and holding them above your head. Your lips wobble in anticipation, and he’s got you booked now. “Any last words? A quick ‘I hate you,’ maybe?”

You blink, bored, almost calling his bluff, and he comes up to smack his face in frustration. He wasn’t actually bluffing, he did have full intentions of making you scream, but he was so sure you’d crack under his gaze, even a quick kick to him as he was adjusting your body.

No dice.

With a shrug, hands come down quickly to tickle the meat of your ribs, settling in the dips and scratching at the bones maddeningly. He sees your lip become wobblier, and he smirks down at you. “Nothing? Not even a giggle? You must be pissed at me.”

You screw your eyes shut to ignore him and he clicks his tongue, “now you can’t even look at me? That sucks.”

He leans down to nibble at your neck and ear, whispering little words against your skin to make you squeak. But it isn’t until he cheats and uses his mouth to blow a raspberry on your sensitive neck, an area he’s so used to pressing loving kisses to, that you finally crack.

“YOURE SO CHEAP!” You scream, followed by a flurry of laughter and struggling from his tight hold. Your laugh is whiny and desperate, feet digging into the couch while his fingers merely slither up and under your arms.

He smirks against your skin, “gotcha.”

“Fuck off!” You squeal, tugging as hard as you can in his grasp. “Stohop it!”

“Are you gonna keep ignoring me?” He asks. You shake your head back and forth, but he cocks a brow. “Is that a no? Are we going to talk about your issues with me, or am I going to have to tickle you for the next few hours?”

“HOURS?!” You howl.

He shrugs, “you ignored me for three days, least I deserve is to tickle you until you sob.”

“I wasn’t-“ you’re cut off by a flurry of your own giggles. “This isn’t-“ a few more yowls of your laughter when he digs in more. “FUCK OFF!”

“Nah,” he snickers. “This is more fun.” He does, however, stop his torment and pulls back, but he does look down at you impatiently. “Speak,” he echos from earlier.

You let out a few more titters slip past your lips, but you do sober up slightly, “you don’t even care that I was mad at you.”

“Uh, I was about to tickle you until you died, I think I cared too much-“

“No, Sukuna. You just didn’t want me to be mad. You never apologized and you never even bothered to try and make it better…”

This, oddly, has Sukuna’s heart twisting, squeezed with emotions and realization that he did mess up, pride couldn’t save him now and if he wanted to fix this, he’d have to prove it.

He sighs in truce, “I’m sorry, babe.”

“….”

“What?”

“That’s it?”

He rolls his eyes, “what else do you want me to say?”

“I want you to care that I was hurt!” You whine, raising on your elbows. “I want you to understand I was hurt, that you messed up! Not be so prideful and not admit it!”

“Alright, alright, jeez,” he groans. He locks eyes with you, and he knows you’re not going to like it, but he leans down to kiss you, using his two hands to cup your jaw, letting his thumbs stroke your bone lovingly. “I’m sorry. It must’ve sucked having to deal with my shitty ass apologies before. I never should’ve pulled that shit, and I hated not having you by my side.”

This, has you softening.

He presses another kiss to you, “I missed your laughter. I missed you scolding me. I missed you being sarcastic… don’t pull that silent treatment shit again, will ya?”

You hum happily, “don’t piss me off and I won’t have to.”

He blinks unamused, and as the thought of tickling you again crosses his mind, you lean up to kiss his lips giggling softly in the warmth. “I’m kidding. You and I both know you’re not going to stop pissing me off.”

“Love when you answer your own demands,” he chuckles.

The tightness in his soul loosens as you submit to his affections, and he does make a mental note to never piss you off so bad again where you go back to happy to never talk to him again. He hates it more than even he knows, drags him down and he feels like he’s missing a crucial part of himself.

But it is good to know he can get you back out of that funk.

[pucksandpower]

All Locked Up

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: your boyfriend losing the key to your handcuffs was bad enough … but him calling Max and Lando to help look for them? You may never be able to show your face in public again

Warnings: 18+ content implied, mentions of accidental bruising, wrongful assumptions of violence

“Mon amour, have you seen the key to the handcuffs?” Charles calls out from the bathroom.

You strain against the metal cuffs locking your wrists to the headboard. “No, I thought you had it!”

Charles appears in the doorway, eyebrows knitted together. “I could have sworn I left it on the nightstand, but it’s not there.”

You rattle the chain connecting you to the bed. “Well you need to find it, because I’m starting to lose feeling in my hands here.”

“Right, right, I’m sorry,” Charles says, running a hand through his hair. He starts opening drawers and peering under furniture.

You watch him scramble around the room searching fruitlessly. After ten minutes you sigh. “Any luck?”

Charles slumps down on the edge of the bed. “No, it’s gone. I don’t know where it could be.”

You give him a pointed look.

“I know, I know, this is my fault,” Charles says. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure this out.”

He pulls out his phone and scrolls through his contacts. After a moment, he puts the phone to his ear. “Max? Hi, I need your help with something ...”

You groan quietly. Calling Max for help with this is guaranteed to be embarrassing.

“So here’s the thing,” Charles says into the phone, “Y/N and I were having some fun with handcuffs, and I seem to have misplaced the key ...”

You let your head fall back against the headboard. This day is just getting better and better.

“Yes, she’s still cuffed to the bed,” Charles continues. “I’ve looked everywhere for the key. Can you come over and help me find it?”

Charles looks over at you sheepishly. “Okay, see you soon.”

He hangs up and gives you an apologetic smile. “Max is on his way.”

You sigh. “Wonderful.”

Soon there’s a knock at the front door. Charles jumps up to answer it. You hear Charles and Max’s muffled voices for a minute before they enter the bedroom.

Max takes one look at you handcuffed naked to the bed and immediately spins around. “Whoa, okay, wasn’t expecting that.”

You feel your face flush. “Hi Max.”

“I told you she was still cuffed to the bed,” Charles says with a smirk.

Max keeps his back turned. “Right, you failed to mention she was naked though!"

“It must have slipped my mind,” Charles laughs.

“Can we focus please?” You cut in. “Find the key so I can get out of these cuffs.”

“Yes ma’am,” Max says. He and Charles start searching the room, checking under the bed and nightstands.

After twenty fruitless minutes, Charles collapses on the bed next to you. “It’s hopeless, the key is gone.”

You rattle the cuffs in frustration. “What are we going to do? I can’t stay chained up like this forever.”

Max thinks for a moment. “Maybe Lando can help? He’s good at finding things.”

Charles perks up. “Good idea! I’ll give him a call.”

You close your eyes in dismay as Charles calls Lando. This day just continues to spiral.

Soon Lando arrives, thankfully a little more tactful about the situation than Max. The three of them scour the apartment, but still no sign of the lost key.

You’ve resorted to making small talk with Lando to pass the time. “So how’s your season going so far?”

Lando leans casually against the dresser. “Oh you know, up and down. But I got a few podiums, so it could have been worse.”

You’re impressed. “That’s awesome, congrats!"

“Thanks! I think if I keep consistently scoring points, I might be able to beat Max in the championship this year,” Lando jokes.

“In your dreams!" Max yells from the living room. You and Lando laugh.

But then, Charles and Max return to the bedroom, both empty-handed.

Charles runs a hand through his hair. “I think we have to face it — the key is gone.”

You rattle the handcuffs in frustration. “So what, you’re just going to leave me chained up here forever?”

“Of course not, mon cœur,” Charles says, sitting down beside you. “We’ll figure something out.”

Max nods. “There’s always plan B.”

You look between the three of them hesitantly. “Do I want to know what plan B is?”

Lando grins and holds up a paper clip. “Lock picking. I found a YouTube video.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “That does not seem ideal.”

“Do you have a better option?” Charles asks, taking your hands in his gently. “I promise we’ll be careful. And if the paper clip doesn’t work, we can always call a locksmith.”

You sigh, relenting. “Okay, fine. Just please be gentle, my wrists are already sore.”

The three of them get to work carefully trying to pick the lock on the cuffs with the paper clip. You try to stay still, watching them fiddle with the tiny metal piece.

After several tense minutes, you finally hear a click. The cuff around your left wrist springs open.

“Yes!” Lando cheers. “Told you I could do it.”

Charles kisses your freed wrist gently. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”

With a bit more work, they get the other cuff unlocked too. You bring your arms down with a groan of relief, stretching out the sore muscles.

Charles pulls you into a hug. “I’m so sorry about all this. Next time we’ll be more careful.”

You laugh, hugging him back. “It’s okay, it all worked out in the end. But next time let’s stick to something that doesn’t require a key.”

Charles smiles. “Deal.” He turns to Max and Lando. “Thank you both for your help, I really owe you.”

“Anytime,” Lando says. “This was way more exciting than my usual Sunday plans.”

“Now, I believe you gentlemen should give me and my girlfriend some privacy,” Charles says, slipping an arm around your waist.

Max and Lando quickly start heading for the door.

“Have fun you two,” Lando calls over his shoulder. “But maybe put the key somewhere obvious when you decide on an encore!”

You and Charles collapse into laughter as the apartment door closes behind them. Charles pulls you into his lap and kisses you deeply.

“I really am sorry about all this,” he murmurs against your lips.

You smile, running your fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, it made for quite the adventurous morning! But going forward, let’s keep the handcuffs between just the two of us.”

Charles grins. “No complaints here.”

***

Later that evening, you and Charles are having dinner with his family. You’re seated at a table on the patio of a stunning Italian restaurant with a beautiful view of the water. The conversation flows comfortably as you all eat.

After the main course is cleared, you reach for your wine glass. As you lift your arm, the sleeve of your dress slides back, revealing the light bruising circling your wrists.

Pascale notices immediately, her eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Y/N, what happened to your wrists?”

You quickly tug your sleeves down, cheeks flushing. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little accident this morning.”

Lorenzo and Arthur lean in to peer at your wrists curiously. You self-consciously tuck your hands under the table.

“Are you sure it’s nothing?” Pascale asks gently. “Those bruises look quite bad.”

You open your mouth to respond, but Charles chooses that moment to get up from the table. “Excuse me, I’m just going to run to the restroom quickly.”

He squeezes your shoulder as he walks past, oblivious to his family’s concern. You watch him disappear towards the bathrooms, internally screaming.

Pascale reaches across the table to take your hand. “You know you can tell us anything, right? We just want to help.”

You shift awkwardly. “Really, it’s not a big deal.”

Lorenzo frowns. “Did Charles do this to you?” Arthur nods, looking worried.

“What? No!” You say quickly. “Charles would never hurt me.”

Pascale rubs your arm comfortingly. “You don’t have to cover for him, dear. If he’s hurting you-”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that!” You interrupt, face flaming. How do you even begin to explain this?

Just then Charles returns to the table. He immediately senses the tense mood. “Everything okay here?”

“Y/N has some bad bruising on her wrists,” Pascale says seriously. “Do you know anything about that, Charles?”

Charles’ eyes widen almost comically. “Oh, that! No no, it’s not what you think.”

“Can one of you please just explain what happened?” Lorenzo asks in exasperation.

You and Charles share an awkward look. There’s no getting out of this now.

Charles clears his throat. “So, Y/N and I were, uh … having some intimate time this morning. And I may have accidentally … handcuffed her to the bed … and lost the key.”

You cover your flaming face with your hands as Charles’ family stares at you both in stunned silence.

Arthur nearly spits out his drink. “Handcuffs? You kinky bastard.”

“Arthur!” Pascale scolds as Lorenzo tries and fails to hold back laughter.

Charles squeezes your shoulder apologetically. “It was just a silly accident. I promise I didn’t hurt her.”

You peek out from behind your fingers. “I tried to tell you it wasn’t a big deal.”

Pascale pats your hand affectionately. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, dear. But thank you for being honest with us. Even if there are some things I wish I didn’t know about my son.”

Charles kisses your temple. “No more handcuffs though, lesson learned. Right, mon amour?”

You chuckle, relaxing now that the awkwardness has passed. “Right. I think we’ll stick to the fluffy ones from now on.”

[vivwritesfics]

Steal Your Girl - LN4

Carlos is awful to his girl and Lando wants her. He gets what he wants.

THIS IS NOT A REFLECTION OF CARLOS SAINZ AS A REAL PERSON, ALL THESE ACTIONS ARE VRRY OUT OF HIS CHARACTER

18+ ONLY

Warnings: emotionally abusive relationship! smut! eating out, bj, finishing inside, fucking against the wall

Ex! Carlos sainz x reader, lando norris x reader

5.5k

Yes, I changed this up a lot from the original request, but Bianca and I have spoken a lot about this fic and it was decided that having it a friendship rivalry would make this so sweet so I changed Lewis to Carlos

Carlos Sainz walked into the British grand prix, his hand holding his girlfriends. It was warm for England, and he could swear it was getting warmer and warmer every year. Not hot, not compared to what he was used to.

Although he was now a driver for Scuderia Ferrari, he still had friends in other teams. Like Lando and Max. The year before he wouldn’t have minded being on a team with either of them again, driving alongside Lando in Ferrari or Max in a Red Bull.

But now Carlos was in a truly competitive car and, for the first time since his career began, he was a contender for the championship title.

As he looked at his girlfriend, she gave him a smile. Just a small one, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Carlos kept a tight hold of her as he pulled her through the paddock, heading to where he could see the orange hat on the smaller man’s head.

Lando was always his first stop if he could help it. Carlos loved him like a brother, the two of them becoming the best of friends for the short time they were teammates. Everybody in Formula One had their best friend. He had Lando, Logan had Oscar, Charles had… well Charles was a bit of a slut. He had Max and Pierre at his beck and call.

He let go of his girlfriends hand, reaching forward to smack Lando’s butt. Lando jumped out of his skin, spun quickly on his heel and came face to face with his best friend. His look of shock and horror turned into a grin and he wrapped his arms around Carlos, smacking his back as he did so. He looked to Y/N offering her a tight lipped smile.

Being Carlos’s best friend meant Lando got more of an insight into Y/N and Carlos’s relationship. All of the speculations he saw the F1 and WAG news sights posting, he could reveal how true they were. He wouldn’t; that wasn’t his place. If Y/N or Carlos wanted to come out about their relationship, they could. But he wasn’t going to do it for them.

But he felt sorry for her. He saw the way he treated her, how short and angry he was towards her after the race hadn’t gone his way. Lando had stopped himself from running over and getting between them several times. But, once again, it wasn’t his place. As much as he wanted to run over and grab Carlos, keeping Y/N behind him, he knew he couldn’t.

But he wanted to. Don’t get him wrong, he wanted to.

All Lando could do was watch, try and ask if she was okay without actually saying anything. He was observant when it came to her, noticed the way her smile wasn’t too wide.

I guess I should give some context. The year was 2024, and Lando and Carlos were both in the championship fight. It was intense – one week Carlos would be leading in the points and the next Lando would be. As much as it frustrated the both of them, it never affected their friendship.

The summer break was approaching and the two of them were way too close in the points for comfort. It wasn’t like the previous year where Max was practically a shoo in. You never would have guessed by the way they walked through the paddock together, Oscar joining them on Lando’s left.

He was another contender for the championship. It was only his second year in the championship, and he was fighting with the likes of Max, Lando and Carlos. It was insanely impressive, but not unexpected.

“You two got any plans for over summer?” He asked as they stopped outside of the McLaren hospitality suite.

As much as Carlos was happy to finally be in the competitive car, he still missed McLaren. As much as he loved driving alongside Charles Leclerc, he missed driving alongside Lando. But he loved fighting him on track.

Carlos wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her in close. “We are staying in Italy,” he said and kissed the side of her head. The smile Y/N shot in Oscar’s direction wasn’t a happy one. Her shoulders were hunched as she tried to make herself look small, her smile barely there and her eyes not meeting his. Whatever they were doing over the summer, she clearly wasn’t happy about it.

They went their separate ways, Y/N and Carlos heading off to Ferrari while Lando and Oscar headed into the hospitality suite. “Is she okay?” Oscar asked as he walked slightly behind Lando.

It was no secret how Lando felt about Y/N. It was no secret that he liked her. There had been one time where Oscar had physically held Lando back after Carlos had crashed earlier in the day and seemed to be verbally taking it out on Y/N.

Lando couldn’t answer. Because he really didn’t know. He didn’t know if she was okay, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t find out. He steadied himself and led Oscar into the hospitality suite.

***

It wasn’t a good race for Carlos. Y/N watched from the garage as he made contact with the Mercedes of George Russell and spun out into the gravel. “Ah fuck!” He shouted. “Fucking fuck!” He hit the steering wheel and pulled it out of the car, handing it to the steward that came running over. He climbed out of the car, keeping his helmet on as he made his way back to the pitlane.

As soon as Carlos sorted himself out, Y/N threw her arms around him. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered and kissed his cheek. Carlos didn’t respond. He just stared at the track at nineteen cars came speeding past the pitlane.

After the race and the ceremonies, when they were heading back to the plane, Carlos drove them. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he sped around cars, at a pace that was, quite frankly, terrifying to his passengers. “Carlos, baby,” she tried to say as she held onto the bottom of her seat.

But Carlos didn’t let her say anything. “Shut the fuck up,” he growled.

Y/N fell silent. If they weren’t driving down the motorway she would have demanded he let her out of the car, but she couldn’t. She just sat there, the familiar feeling of anxiety bubbling up inside of her chest.

If this was how she was going to be feeling for the rest of the championship, Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of this world. She loved Carlos and she loved travelling around with him, but it made her feel fucking terrible. He made her feel fucking terrible.

These feelings didn’t stop through the Hungarian Grand Prix or through Spa. They were miserable weekends for the girl sat in the Ferrari garage. In both races Carlos did well, which you may think  would mean he was happy. You’d think he’d be in a good mood and happily showing his girlfriend how much he loved her.

But for both races, a younger, less experienced driver beat him. In cars that seemed to be equal in terms of how competitive they were, Lando Norris beat him.

Although Carlos got a good amount of points from it, Lando had beat him, putting a bit more distance between them in the championship.

It made him vile to be around. The points, the championship, consumed his very being. Not in the way it did for most Formula One drivers, where their goal for every training session, every practice session, every qualifying and every race was to be the best. Carlos was a man obsessed it muttered about it, going back through past races to see if there were any way to take points away from his competitors.

He became snappy and rude to his girlfriend. She couldn’t even say his name without him sending a glare in her direction. Y/N was walking on eggshells around him.

It wasn’t as though she could avoid him. Carlos wanted her at every race weekend; her only respite was the few days she got to spend at her apartment.

During summer break, Carlos gave her a break from himself. He wasn’t crazy obsessive over points as they went to Italy. But that feeling of Anxiety was still in Y/N’s chest. Even as he took her out on the boat, she was still anxious.

When Carlos kissed her, she kept her eyes shut, unable to look at him. His touch was warm, but it still made her shiver. If he knew something was wrong, he didn’t say anything to her.

It was a sign, surely. A sign that she should have left him. But, no matter how anxious she felt around him, there was still a part of her that loved him. She always would love him, at least in some capacity.

Y/N pushed the feelings deep down. She loved him, she really, truly loved him, and she could get through this. They could get through this. As soon as the championship was over, things would go back to normal, she was sure of it.

As if to assure herself, Y/N walked over to Carlos, who had sat himself on the sun lounger in front of the pool, and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed the side of his head and closed her eyes as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder.

After their amazing summer break, Y/N thought maybe things would change between them. Maybe she’d get the old Carlos back, her Carlos back.

Spoiler alert, it didn’t work. Even though Carlos finished ahead of Lando at the Dutch Grand Prix, they still hadn’t quite come level with the points. Lando was still ahead of him and it was all Carlos could think about, all he could talk about.

The drivers went out that night. Well, a few of them did. Max took Lando, Charles, Carlos, George and Daniel out for the night. Everybody was invited to the club, but these were the few that went.

Of course, Y/N went with Carlos. Even with everything going on, she still didn’t want to head home alone. So, she dressed her best and walked into the club on Carlos’s arm.

Lando walked in behind them. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, and that little voice in the back of his head that usually told him that she was his best friend’s girl and he should stay away was suddenly quieter. Maybe it was because of the few drinks he had in his system already, but Lando wasn’t scared about Carlos seeing his lingering eyes.

But Carlos didn’t seem to notice. Maybe he thought Lando was being a good friend and keeping an eye on Y/N, who was definitely stunning enough to turn heads.

For the entire night, Lando stayed close to Y/N. He was behind them when she and Carlos danced together, followed her to the bar and got another round of drinks. And, when Carlos disappeared and Y/N found herself sitting alone in one of the booths in the club, Lando came to sit beside her.

“Hey,” he shouted over the music.

Y/N stared at him, clearly not happy. But she gave him a weak smile, leaning against the table in front of them. “You okay?” He shouted, furrowing his brows. Y/N shouted something back, but Lando couldn’t hear a word of it.

Standing up, he walked over and slid into the seat beside her. “You okay?” He asked and placed his arm over her shoulders. The drink must have been making him brave.

Y/N shook her head. “I want to go outside!” She shouted into his ear.

Standing up, Lando helped her. He shot Carlos a quick text and led Y/N to the smoking shelter outside of the club. Neither of them smoked, but they needed the fresh air, desperately. The smoking area was busy, but not as loud as the club; they could speak without much issue.

"What's up?" Asked Lando as he leaned against the wall.

Y/N looked at him and let out a huff. She folded her arms over her chest and looked up at the stars in the night sky. "I'm hoping you're drunk enough to forget this, but Carlos treats me like shit," she said and turned her attention towards him.

"I know."

Lando hadn't meant to say it, but it was too late to backpeddle now.

"And I fucking hate it," he finished.

Silence hung in the air between them. Y/N didn't quite know what to say. She was speaking to Carlos's best friend and she didn't want to slate him.

And Lando, well he was waiting for Y/N to say something. He didn't want to push and then have to deal with Carlos why she was crying. That wouldn't end well for anyone.

I think you should leave your boyfriend.

But he couldn't say that. It was a decision Y/N had to come to all on her own.

And she did. Just not for a while. Not until the end of the 2024 championship.

It was down to the wire, the deciding race for the drivers championship being the very last race of the season.

As Y/N sat in the ferrari garage she bit her nails, nerves bubbling up inside of her. It wasn't nerves over her boyfriend winning or losing. Well, it was, but more because of what he might've done to her.

Lando was the championship winner. Lando crossed the finish line less than a second ahead of Carlos.

As they climbed out of the cars and congratulated each other, it was clear Carlos was pissed. As he stood on the podium and listened to the British national anthem, he was angry, that much was clear.

Y/N could have left him then and there, but she didn't want to. There was a small part of her that loved Carlos and that didn't want to leave him.

But, after they had headed home that night, after skipping out on Landos offer of celebrating, Carlos was fucking horrible to her.

Never physical, just angry and verbally abusive. He roared at her, spitting in her face as he did so.

Y/N got up and left him then and there. She walked out of the door, not looking back.

There was a lot of speculation online on the couples break up. The news of it only came when Carlos was seen with a new woman, having moved on pretty quickly. Y/N just hoped this girl could handle him better than she could.

When the 2025 season started up, she missed it. But she couldn't even bring herself to watch it on the television.

She missed it, and she was missed.

By Lando, mostly. Although she'd made some friends from her time on the grid, it was Lando who missed her the most. He'd been the one to call her up and make sure she was okay when he found out about the breakup.

Ever since the 2025 season started, Lando had been desperately trying to get her to come to a grand prix. But Y/N shot him down every time. How could she go to a grand prix and face Carlos?

She couldn’t. As much as she would have loved to go to at least one Grand Prix, she couldn’t face Carlos. So, Lando had to find other ways to see her. He was the one who came to her apartment and spent time with her while she was having an emotional breakdown over Carlos. He was the one who brought her snacks and comfort her, watching movies and attempting to make her dinner.

In this time she and Lando became incredibly close. It didn’t feel right, the way she was relying on him for emotional comfort when he was her ex boyfriends best friend. At first, Y/N was scared Lando would just be a rebound, that she was feeling the way she did because she was upset about the breakup.

But, as time went on, she realised it was a lot more than that. She genuinely loved Lando’s company and she wanted to spend time around him. That didn’t mean she’d be going to a grand prix, though.

So, Y/N threw herself into her work. When she’d bought her apartment, she’d been with Carlos, and it was filled with memories of the two of them. She worked oh so hard to make it her own, erasing every memory of him from its walls.

On the few days before the British Grand Prix, Lando was in the UK. He was in Surrey, at McLaren before heading off to London. What was in London? Just the girl he was in love with.

Okay, maybe in love was a strong word. But everybody knew how he felt about her, knew how much he wanted her.

So, he hopped on a train to London (because there was no way he was driving through the city) and made his way to her apartment.

This was the first Grand Prix that he hadn’t been bothering her to attend. It was strange and, in and odd way, it made Y/N want to go all the more. It was too late now, though. She’d never get tickets she could actually afford.

There was a knock at her apartment door. Y/N stood up from her computer and strode over. She pulled open the door, coming face to face with none other than Lando Norris. “Lando,” she somewhat gasped, incredibly surprised to see him. “Aren’t you meant to be at Silverstone?”

“That’s exactly why I’m here,” he said and walked into the apartment. He took a seat at her kitchen table as she got him something to drink. “I want you to come to the grand prix with me,” he said. He’d said it so many times already this year. Maybe the answer would be different now he was here in person.

Y/N let out a huff and Lando knew what was coming. She was going to shoot him down, to say no and send him on his way. But she didn’t. She sat back and stared at him, tapping her nails against the glass of water in front of her. “Okay,” she said and sat up a little straighter. “But I have conditions.”

Lando gestured for her to go on.

“I’ll go if you can guarantee I won’t see Carlos.”

It was an impossible request, but Lando just grinned. He held out his hand for her to shake. “Deal.”

***

It was Lando’s second win at Silverstone, and the home crowd was going wild. Y/N was with the McLaren team. When Lando pulled into Parc fermé, Y/N was waiting at the barrier. She watched as he jumped towards his team, all of them patting him on the back.

And then she caught his eye. Lando pulled off his helmet, placing it on the ground and strode over to her. “Congratulations!” Y/N shouted over the noise with a wide grin.

But Lando didn’t respond. He pulled her close, just the barrier between them, and kissed her.

It was quick, Lando didn’t have long until he was pulled away to do post-race interviews. And then he was on the podium as Y/N waited back in the garage. What had just happened? Lando had won his home Grand Prix but, more importantly, he kissed her. Lando Norris had kissed her.

And she hadn’t minded. Did that make her a bad person? That she didn’t mind kissing her ex boyfriends best friend? Well, more than didn’t mind. She liked it, and she wanted to do it again.

Carlos hadn’t quite believed what he was seeing when he climbed out of his Ferrari, having just missed out on third place. He was in a foul mood anyway from his result, and this certainly didn’t make things better.

There was a feeling of betrayal that settled in his chest. He was ready to tear apart the Ferrari garage and not care about the consequences.

If she couldn’t be with him because of his racing career, what the fuck was she doing here? With him of all people?

He stormed past everybody, his body language aggressive.

But Lando and Y/N didn’t notice. Why should they? Lando was wrapped up in his win and she was wrapped up in him. In Lando.

After the race Lando drove her back to her apartment. She invited him in, cooked him dinner, which they ate with a couple of candles between them. It was romantic, and they were loving every second of it. It wasn’t what Lando had planned for his win; he was supposed to go out to dinner and party. But he’d told those who were set to come with him to go without him, and this was definitely better.

“I want to ask you to be mine, but I don’t want to push you,” Lando had said as they ate.

Y/N immediately shook her head. She reached over, placing her hand on top of Lando’s. “I wouldn’t have invited you in if I didn’t want this,” she said and let go of him.

They didn’t sleep together that night; Lando kept up with the whole not wanting to push her thing. He didn’t want to push her into sleeping with him and then have her regret it later. So, he took things slow, letting her make the first moved.

It didn’t take long for them to get together, Lando as her boyfriend and Y/N as his girlfriend. But it took a long while before she returned to a grand prix with him. Sure, the world had seen them kiss in Silverstone, but Y/N still needed time. She needed to mentally prepare herself for facing Carlos and the rest of the grid again.

It was towards the end of the season that Y/N went to the next grand prix. She joined him in Brazil, proudly walking through the paddock with her hand held in his. When the cameras started flashing, Lando leaned close and kissed the top of her head. That way there would be no doubts as to who they were to each other.

Lando didn’t win in Brazil. But he didn’t care – his girlfriend was there with him and that was all that mattered. She watched him stand third place on the podium, watched him spray champagne on Carlos and his teammate.

When Y/N hadn’t been keeping up with the sport, before she and Lando were together, she hadn’t realised just how close the title fight was this year. She didn’t realise that the Red Bull car was, essentially, a piece of shit, and that the only real contenders for the title was Lando, Charles and Carlos.

She and Lando made their way out of the circuit together, hand in hand. “Well done,” she said and reached up onto her tiptoes to kiss him. Lando kept her walking as she stole his hat and placed it on her own head. “I love watching you race.”

“I love it when you watch me race,” he replied, squeezing her hand.

Ahead of them was Carlos and his girlfriend. Since she hadn’t been keeping up with the world of Formula One, Y/N didn’t know her name. But she was pretty and, if they were happy, then good for them.

Even though he had won the race, Carlos’s body language was tense. Y/N knew him well enough to know that. She didn’t say anything, though, not when he definitely hated her.

It took a few hours for anything to actually come from this. Both couples had decided that they would stay for the night in Brazil, get a good sleep before heading home. They were staying in the same hotel, rooms relatively close to each other.

That was why, when they were away from the prying eyes of fans of the paparazzi cameras, Carlos took a swing at Lando.

It was sudden and terrifying, both girls stood back in shock. Because, really, what could they do? Try and attack two athletes who were definitely stronger than them?

But then a full of fight broke out. They were punching and trying to tackle each other to the floor. Carlos had his arm around Lando’s neck as he punched him, Lando trying his best to get away.

But he was struggling, his face red. That was when Y/N jumped onto Carlos’s back trying to get him away from Lando. When Lando finally got away, Carlos got Y/N off of his back, knocking her to the floor.

Immediately, Lando got Y/N to her feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He spat at his old friend, holding his girlfriend close.

Carlos didn’t answer as he walked off to his own room, his girlfriend following him.

There was a moment where Y/N and Lando didn’t go anywhere. They put some distance between themselves and the Spaniard. Both their hearts were beating erratically, Lando’s breath coming out short.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N mumbled as they started walking again. “I can’t believe he did that.”

Lando held her a little bit tighter. “You don’t have to apologise,” he said as he pulled out their room key. “He’s being an asshole.”

Things only got worse between them as the title fight heated up. Just as it did the year before, it took the right to the end of the season, with tension between Lando and Carlos becoming worse and worse. The media speculated as they watched the two interact, most of the speculations having something to do with Y/N. They were right; the title fight was just a small part of it now.

***

Abu Dhabi, 2025. Carlos was leading for most of the race and looked set for the win. It would have been his first championship win, a dream of any Formula One driver.

But Lando? He was tricky, and he was fuelled by more than a desire to win. Just as Carlos thought himself set for the win, Lando overtook him. Carlos didn’t see it at first, he had already begun waving to the crowds as the orange car crossed the finish line just half a second ahead of him.

Y/N let out a scream in the McLaren garage. The atmosphere was insane, much different to the atmosphere in the Ferrari garage from the year before. Everybody was jumping around and cheering, rushing out to meet Lando.

When he climbed out of his car he jumped at his team, screaming, shouting and crying.

Just as he did in Silverstone, he pulled off his helmet and placed it down by his feet, leaning down to kiss Y/N. This time he didn’t care about the post-race interviews, he kissed her until he was starving for air. It wasn’t sweet of kind, it was definitely too much for the cameras. It was a promise for later, for what was to come.

That night they celebrated, the team out partying. Y/N and Lando left the party before everybody else, alcohol in their systems as they made their way back to their hotel room.

The two were giggling, drunken messes, kissing on the street every few steps. He kept a tight hold of her, hand just a little too low on her back, but not quite obscene.

In the elevator of the hotel, Y/N was pressed against it, with Lando finally holding her ass. He kissed her feverishly, his kiss bruising.

And she loved every second of it.

Lando was impatient to get her into their hotel room. He kicked the door shut behind them and began pulling off her clothes, only breaking their kiss when he pulled her shirt over her head.

"I fucking love you," he said and began kissing down her neck.

She let out a moan, eyes flying shut as she unbuttoned Lando's shirt.

When they pulled apart to undress themselves, Lando looked at the purple bruises he'd left on her neck, grinning as his tongue came between his lips.

He wasted no time in throwing her down onto the bed, her arms wrapping around him as he went back to kissing her.

He began moving down her body, kissing her chest and between her breasts, moving down to where she needed him most. Her breathing became laboured as he kissed her thigh and gently bit it, his manner teasing.

His large hands rested on her hips as he leaned down, licking across her folds. He sank off of the bed, pulling her closer as he began eating her out. Like a man possessed and licked and sucked at her folds, his skills expert.

Y/N moaned and whined, gripped his hair as he held her still. She tried to move her hips against his face, but Lando held her still, keeping her there as he worked. "Holy fuck," she cried, throwing her head back and gripping the sheets.

Lando grinned as he sat up, painfully hard. Y/N grabbed him, pulling him back up to kiss her. "I want you to fuck me against the wall," she whispered as she moved to kiss down his neck.

The chain he wore dangled between them, getting in her way, but Y/N didn't care. It was incredibly hot.

Lando whispered something in her ear and Y/N nodded eagerly. He set his phone up across from the wall he was going to be fucking her against, and pressed record.

Suddenly Lando was up against the wall, Y/N on her knees in front of him. He moaned as she bobbed her head up and down him. His hand rested on the back of her head, not pushing, just holding her as if he wanted to ground himself.

Before too long Lando was pushing her way. If he was going to celebrate his championship win, he was going to do it inside of her.

"Come here, baby," he said as he gave her one last kiss. He picked her up, Y/N wrapping her legs around him, and turned them around, so that her back was against the wall.

Using the wall to keep her held in his arms, Lando reached between them and lined himself up. He pushed forward, sheathing himself inside of her.

"Ready?" He asked, forehead pressed against hers.

Y/N nodded and Lando began thrusting. It was incredible how strong he was as he pushed into her, pulling himself out and pushing back in.

Y/N let out cries and whines and moans as he fucked her. Because it wasn't romantic, the pace Lando was thrusting inside of her was animalistic.

She moved against the wall, eyes shut as she tightened her legs around Lando, coming closer and closer to the edge. Lando was, too, slowing his pace, becoming sloppy.

When Y/N finally went over the edge she fell forward, leaning her entire weight against him. Lando kissed her head and squeezed his eyes shut as he came, painting her insides with his seed.

He pulled out and carried her back to the bed. Picking up the phone he pointed the camera at Y/N, keeping her on full display. "She's my girl now," he said and ended the video, sending it to the man who was once his best friend.

Lando went to the bathroom and ran the bath. He made it warm and filled it with bubbles. As he waited for it, watched the video go through to Carlos, watched as he opened the message.

He turned off the water and walked back out to the bedroom, where his girlfriend was still laying, her breath evening out. She was close to falling asleep, he realised as he walked over and kissed her forehead.

"Come on, baby," he said and gently coaxed her up from the bed.

Rather reluctantly, Y/N followed Lando into the bathroom. She leaned against the door as he climbed into the water, waited until he was submerged, and slotted herself between his legs.

Lando gently washed her, scrubbing the sweat from her skin and the mess between her legs.

***

Carlos wasn't sure when his girlfriend had left. It was just like last time, alone again after missing out on the championship. It was his fault, even if he didn't know it.

When his phone buzzed he picked it up, desperately hoping that maybe he wasn't so alone.

But then he saw the message, then he opened the video.

His face twisted with rage. He threw his phone across the room, the device bouncing of the wall, the screen completely shattered.

He was going to kill Lando Norris.

[frmisnow]

✧˖ ?!— BATHROOM OF POSSIBILITIES ˚ 𖦹‧ . - (NSFW.)

— ‧₊˚ — 🥝‧₊ : "is it true that you're a whore ??"

summary. who would've thought that you'd end up fucking your besties socially awkward friend in a bar bathroom??? (only to get caught by your bestie..) anything is possible !

notes. omg i'm so sorry i SUCK at writing threesomes, i won't even try!! i still hope asker is satisfied, much lovee!! ₊˚⊹♡

warnings/includes. (MDNI!!) (002 / getting caught), jk is socially awkward around new ppl (we r lowkey twinning here), cocksucker & whore mentioned, unprotected sex :( (they r reckless and a lil stupid), bathroom sex

the guy yoongi dragged into the conversation was hot- like really hot.

usually when yoongi introduces you to his other friends, they're either high, drunk or filthy rich that just seemed to be the typa guys yoongi attracted- nonetheless maybe this guy was all of the above.

though weirdly enough his eyes didn't quite settle like ever, he couldn't look you in the eyes even just once as yoongi punches his arm lightly for him to talk.

"hey," he greeted, and the sound that escaped his lips was unexpectedly awkward, almost stumbling over the single syllable.

yoongi chuckled, sensing the surprise on your face. "Don't let the intimidating exterior fool you," he teased, clapping Jungkook on the back. "jungkook here is a little socially awkward. it's kind of adorable, actually, you're gonna love him tho"

"why are you talking about me like i'm not right by your side," jungkook mumbeled quietly in response, his gaze looking to his feet as yoongi smiled at him like he was some forgein never-been-seen before animal species, ignoring his response, "he's exactly like the guys you usually fuck"

"now that just sounds like i blow all your friends off, that's just wrong, yoon-" you snickered, shaking your head, sipping the rest of his drink down in a swift motion as yoongi rolled his eyes, "can you stop drinking my shit? man, i can give your broke ass a few pennies for a drink" he pinched your cheek like he was talking to a child, "let me do chariety work"

"sounds just like something an old man like you'd do," you leaned against the bar casually, "y'know do some chariety and then take your little nap"

yoongi rolled his once again, quite poorly hiding the grin that snuck it's way onto his face, turning full way to jungkook like he forgot of your existence, "see? she's a brat, a menace, a whore- anything under the sun-" he paused like he was thinking of something, "i need a drink"

till turning again, pointing a finger at you, "cause you drank it all up, you'll pay for it sooner or later" slowly walking off not even waiting for an answer as you yelled, "shouldn't have insinuated that i'm a brainless cock sucker"

after he was out of sight, you turned your attention to jungkook who's eyes had been observing every detail of the past conversation, you shook your head in pretend-frustration, emphasizing: "sorry you had to witness that, when it gets over the time of 12pm and he's desperately over his bed time, he just gets so..." you sighed like you were in extreme concern, "cocky"

it was the first time your eyes linked, a small but growing smile on his face, "you're funny, i like you"

"well then it doesn't take much to impress you," you smiled back, thinking for a few seconds. no, you wanted to know more about the dude- at least one of you has to try. "but for real why are you out of all people friends with yoongi?"

he tilted his head up slightly like he was in fact trying to look into his brain to see an answer, "i think he's fun.. at times and i'm pretty sure he's a sweetie at heart"

you nod along, yoongi can be truly insufferable but if he did care when needed and maybe that was just enough- you shook your head trying to not overthink it all of a sudden, switching the topic, "truth or dare"

he raised his eyebrows for a split second, surprised by the abrupt topic switch, "truth"

"weirdest place you've ever had sex?"

he let out a little breathy chuckle, the sound of jungkooks laughter generally pretty, "an ikea bedroom," he played with his lip piercing like he was contemplaiting wheather he should say the next thing, "just a bit of fingering nothing to extreme nonetheless truth or dare?"

"truth"

"you're no fun," he pouted jokingly till adding, "is it true that you're a whore?"

this was not the position you imagined yourself at the end of the night- no, scratch that, this was not the man you imagined to be with in this position, pressed against the mirror of a dirty bathroom, ass hurting from the bath sink you were seated on, jungkook out of all balls deep into you.

his mouth was pressed against your neck, whispering horny sweet nothings against the bare skin, how much of a cock sucker you actually were, how easy it was for him to get you here, how stupid and solely cock-focused you were.

it was like all his awkwardness wore off the longer he lingered next to you as he pounded into you like he had fucked you tens of times before.

you didn't care if you were completely reckless right now or if the door was open and anyone could fucking walk in at any given moment or where yoongi was - after all maybe jungkook was right: all you could think of right now was his dick deep inside you.

"do you go around and fuck around with all of his friends behind his back or is it just me? mmh, c'mon answer" your tongue felt tied, it was like you had water in your ear, his words not quite audible as you shook your head, not getting it, "made for taking dick, exactly like i thought"

he spread your legs a bit wider, cock scretching your pussy just the right way as you creeked out something about 'needing to cum'

his fingers entertwined in your hair, pulling it just lightly, biting his lips trying to conceal a whimper at the feeling of your pussy tightning round him, "i'll give it to you, wanna have you cum all over my dick"

a high pitched scream aired through the room, so loud like somebody had witnessed a murder - simultaneously it felt like your little bubble of pure utter hornieness had popped, looking to your right to look at a deeply digusted min yoongi, who's hands were already covering his eyes like a defence mechanism.

"it's not what it looks like!"

you both yelled, jungkook pulling out instantly covering you with his shirt that had been thrown onto the ground like fifteen minutes ago, "what do you mean? your dick was in-" he shook his head dramatically and in a repeated fashion while you threw your clothes on as fast as you possibly could, "i don't think we can be friends anymore.. that image uhh-" he did another disgusted expression, covering his mouth like he was still in after-shook.

it took about ten minutes to calm yoongi down (and a whole lot of promises and gaslight about how he was probably to drunk for his own good) till you both sat him down into a taxi taht was going to safely drive him home.

you stood there outside the bar in the cold air of the night silently for a little while before you both started laughing, what started as a tiny chuckle turned into cackling like maniacs.

eventually you got your shit together, mumbling "well that was awkward" he grinned in response, "right before cumming too- how cruel"

jungkook played with his piercing once again, gaze zoning out shortly till returning to yours, "how about i take you home and you get to finish off just like you deserve?"

[carmelcoco]

moon notes. 🌕

Disclaimer. these observations do not have to resonate with everyone and everything, all expressed in this post is based on personal experience and research.

☾ aries moon

Aries moons are extremely protective of their romantic partners, possibly due to the difficulty they have in getting along with just anyone. When they find someone they can love, it feels like a miracle to them. Their tired eyes hold many secrets, yet they also invite others to share their own. Aries moons are deeply committed to their beliefs, prioritizing prayer if they believe in God or disregarding criticism if they're into crystals and spirituality. Being misunderstood frustrates them, especially if they have Virgo personal placements. Moon in Aries individuals often experienced a challenging and powerful childhood, shaping their view of home and family as constant challenges. They need to feel comfortable with their partner before starting a family to avoid repeating the same attitude they received from their parents or relatives. Aries moons live in the present, are passionate, and tend to be impatient. They take criticism to heart and become defensive. They crave excitement and can get bored in peaceful environments. Their needs, desires, and crushes are short-lived and sometimes vague.

☾ taurus moon

Individuals with Taurus moons display distinct traits influenced by their emotional development. Those with undeveloped Taurus moons may struggle with giving and receiving affection until adulthood. Conversely, a developed Taurus moon suggests a nurturing childhood marked by stability and material comfort. Taurus moon individuals exude groundedness and stability, attracting attention and commanding respect effortlessly. They uphold high standards, seeking the good in everyone while grappling with occasional indulgence. Despite their serious initial impression, they are actually fun-loving and seek positive energy. Partners may find them challenging to understand due to mood swings, yet they offer deep emotional healing and encourage appreciation for the ordinary. Taurus moons prioritize building secure and cozy environments, cherishing routines and loyalty. Affectionate and sentimental, they value reliability and comfort above all, making them steadfast companions with strong emotional needs.

☾ gemini moon

Gemini moons possess a natural charm and wit, fostering pleasant company with their curiosity about life. Yet, within their comfort zones, a sense of nervousness and restlessness often accompanies them. These individuals thrive on constant mental stimulation, becoming moody when deprived of it. Childhood experiences shape their communication skills, sometimes marked by instances of feeling mocked or uncomfortable, particularly by siblings. In adulthood, they seek partners who value open dialogue and opinion sharing, craving discussions on diverse topics. While they appear approachable, earning their trust to reveal their fun side can be challenging. Gemini moons enjoy sharing their interests, often trying to influence others' preferences. In matters of love, they can be shy yet straightforward and may send risky texts. Despite attracting attention effortlessly, they remain indifferent to others' desires to emulate them, focusing instead on genuine connections and mental engagement.

☾ cancer moon

People with a Cancer moon are very empathetic and in tune with the emotions of others. They are peaceful and seek familiarity, but can become moody. They hold onto old memories and have a forgiving nature, especially with loved ones. Drama is avoided, and they are focused on justice and fairness. Cancer moons are ambitious and career-oriented, valuing hard work. They desire to build a happy family environment, but can be hindered by their tendency to feel deeply and get hurt easily. Letting go is important for finding love and affection. When drunk, they may have the urge to fight or dance with strangers. Sharing is caring, and balance is sought in all aspects of life.

☾ leo moon

Individuals with Leo moons seek attention and love within their inner circle, exhibiting both a craving for admiration and generosity towards loved ones. Creativity and a sense of justice define this placement, alongside a remarkable capacity for forgiveness, even towards those who have wronged them. They may have experienced embarrassment due to past forgiveness, learning the lesson of discernment. Leo moons prioritize self-love affirmations and enjoy disproving others' opinions. Trust issues develop early, leading to a reluctance to share personal secrets. They are non-competitive except in defense of friends, showing jealousy in childhood friendships. Quick to forgive, they use sympathy to mend relationships, disliking prolonged conflicts. While disliking long conversations, they engage enthusiastically in mysterious topics and detective documentaries, demonstrating a thirst for knowledge. Despite a dislike for subjects like math, they persist in pursuing success, reflecting their determined nature.

☾ virgo moon

Virgo moons are known for getting attached to people very quickly. They admire those who work hard for their dreams and love to party. They seek soul ties with people who match their personality and are drawn to confident individuals who appreciate beauty in everyone. Cooking for loved ones is how they show their love, as they likely paid attention to their mom or grandma while cooking as a child. Virgo moons are ambitious and goal-oriented from a young age, but tend to care less about school as they get older. Despite this, they are kind and make even disagreeable statements sound agreeable. Virgo moons are sensitive and experience emotions mentally, which can lead to moodiness. They have a tendency to focus on details and can struggle to see the bigger picture due to early conditioning. It is important for them to be light-hearted with judgments towards family and future family. They find contentment in the little things and prefer simplicity. Virgo moons need to feel useful and thrive on routine, or else they become self-critical. They are trustworthy and reliable.

☾ libra moon

Libra moons are known for their desire for peace and harmony. They are social and sympathetic individuals who like to have the last word in arguments. Although they strive for the best, this focus can sometimes prevent them from enjoying the moment. They are fond of giving compliments and expect the same in return, but their egos are fragile and can be easily crushed. Libra moons are often taken advantage of due to their people-pleasing nature. They are also known for their strong attachment to their mothers. Libra moons may have been obsessed with their appearance during their teenage years, but as they age, they prioritize personality over looks when choosing a partner. However, one negative trait they possess is complaining even when they chose to help someone. Libra moons are indecisive about trivial things but are confident in important situations. If you are a Libra moon, it is important to work on being honest. Overall, talking to a Libra moon can feel like talking to yourself, but with agreement on every point.

☾ scorpio moon

Scorpio moons are the sweetest people. They are attentive, caring and very focused on making sure others feel good. They can get anxious but it's cute. They respect the privacy of others because they want their privacy respected too. Scorpio moons are great at comforting people, even if they feel awkward about physical comfort. They may have family issues and they love alone time. They love watching horror movies and learning from them. Scorpio moons are clever, perceptive and seek intense emotions and experiences. They value strong relationships and commitment. They live by the motto "all or nothing".

☾ sagittarius moon

Individuals with a Sagittarius moon placement exhibit traits of optimism, cheerfulness, and a love for freedom. They dislike routine and prefer spontaneity, which can lead to conflicts with more structured individuals. Despite their impulsiveness, they are trustworthy and forgiving, often giving second chances to those who betray them to avoid confrontation. They possess a genuine interest in other cultures and exhibit respect towards all races without discrimination. While they may avoid seeking advice from others, they are likely to turn to their mothers for guidance. Sagittarius moons thrive in social settings, preferring nature and the company of many friends over isolation. They are attentive listeners, willing to invest time and effort in understanding others, even when tired. Additionally, they have a diverse taste in music, gradually exploring various genres as they mature. Overall, Sagittarius moons embody positivity, openness, and a deep appreciation for diversity and connection.

☾ capricorn moon

Honestly, Capricorn moons have a hard time understanding their emotions and because of this people usually end up thinking that they are detached or emotionally unavailable. I hope they know that it's okay to admit how you truly feel and if they ever try to communicate with anyone please listen to them cuz they are trying hard. They always seem to need advice in relationships, even for small issues. They romanticize a perfect relationship and search for advice to make it a reality. They tend to force themselves to feel numb about the things that hurt them the most. All this happens because they are unable to understand their emotions and it takes them time to do so. They don't like ranting, but when they do, they pour their hearts out then act like they didn't. They're sensitive individuals who want to be understood, despite some people talking harshly about their detached emotions. Capricorn moons usually have a problematic relationship with their parents and may have experienced abuse growing up. They're reliable and levelheaded people who are well-organized and realistic. Tradition, authority, and security are highly regarded, and they are no risk-takers.

☾ aquarius moon

Aquarius moons are known for their observant nature and love analyzing other people's actions. They tend to feel like they don't fit in with their peers and value independence and individuality. These rebellious individuals don't take criticism well and take pride in their thoughts. Aquarius moons have a lot on their mind and are often thought of as stoners because they find themselves lost in thought often. They may make sex their love language because they want to please others and themselves. These people tend to enjoy aggressive music and may judge others for not liking the same artists as them. Aquarius moons have a great sense of humor and are always interesting to talk to. They tend to get lost in their thoughts and may zone out while telling their life story. Overall, these people are never boring and always leave an impression.

☾ pisces moon

Honestly, I could go on for pages about Pisces moons. They're the family member who knows everything and wants to come off as lovely to strangers. They avoid confrontation and might disagree with something just to be left alone. Pisces moons want to feel spoiled and financially stable. They either think about money, sex, or how depressed they are. They're also prone to falling for fictional characters or celebrities. If a Pisces moon is dating a Virgo sun, it feels like paradise, but they might not admit it. Pisces moons are hardworking to the point of forgetting to eat and might have trouble with spicy food. They romanticize toxicity and have remarkable intuition. They can get lost in the suffering of others and are known for their odd sense of humor.

this post was created by @carmelcoco on tumblr <3 if reposting my work please give credits.

[papercorgiworld]

No girls, no fights, no smokes

The things Mattheo Riddle does for love

This is like Theo’s ‘Tutoring first years’ a request based on the scenarios from Pansy’s Interrogation.

If you want a little more context, you can read Pansy’s interrogation, but it’s not a must.

No warnings except maybe foul language, but mostly just fluff and a bit of angst.

Picture source: https://pin.it/4r1PsBsvn

Not proofread. Feedback is as always very welcome. Happy readings, my dears!

“Slughorn is too lenient with him, because Riddle suddenly decided to show up to class, he gets an assignment to improve his grade. Ridiculous.” Hermoine says and Ron raises his eyebrows. “Slytherin privileges.” Harry joins his friends in their judging. “Not just that, Slughorn is making the same mistake he made when he trusted his father and told him about the horcruxes instead of sending him straight to Azkaban.” The three of them are startled to hear Mattheo’s voice from behind them. “You want to say that to my face, Potter!” Harry curses himself, he really wasn’t looking for a fight.

The trio turns around to face Mattheo, but they all keep their mouths shut and surprisingly so does Mattheo. The rage in his eyes is undeniable, but he simply walks by giving the trio only a quick death glare. When the trio is sure Mattheo is out of earsight Ron is the first to speak up. “Odd.” Hermoine shakes her head. “Not as much as you would think.” Harry and Ron give their friend a questioning look. “I don’t know why but he’s been on his best behavior for the past weeks. When was the last time he punched or hexed someone?” No one can immediately come up with an answer, proving Hermoine’s point.

***

“Matt, that’s my jacket.” Theo drily states thinking Mattheo mistakenly took his, while Mattheo searches every pocket of Theo’s jacket. “I know, I’m stealing your cigarettes.” Mattheo mutters with clear frustration in his voice. “You lose your own?” Theo asks as he takes his cigarettes off the nightstand to offer one to Mattheo. “No, I quit a month ago, remember.” Theo thinks for a moment, eyebrows knit together. “I honestly thought that was a joke.” Mattheo just flings Theodore an agitated glare. “Look, Matt, you can’t quit smoking, fighting and fucking at the same time.” Mattheo doesn’t say a word and lights the cigarette, just as Enzo enters the room. “No smoking inside!” “Say that one more time and you’ll be the first I punch in two months.” Enzo stops in his tracks at Mattheo’s ice cold voice and looks over at Theo with raised eyebrows.

“So, if I’m correct, no sex or blowjobs for three months, no fights for two months and almost one month of no smoking.” Mattheo lets himself fall on his bed. “Theodore?” Mattheo asks calmly, making both Enzo and Theo hold their breath. “Shut up.” Enzo can’t help but laugh as Theo rolls his eyes. “Pansy and Blaise were right the other day weren’t they? You’re doing this to impress (y/n).” Mattheo forces his eyes shut. He can barely admit it to himself, leave alone to his friends, but it is true. He so desperately needs you to like him. You are always nice to him, but you rarely ever approach him and honestly he can’t blame you.

***

Transfigurations, that’s where Mattheo realized that you weren’t just nice on the eyes. Three months ago Mcgonagoll had assigned everyone new seats and Mattheo had ended up next to you. Suddenly you weren’t just a kind stranger anymore, you became the girl that he can so easily talk to and laugh with.

Mattheo smiles when he sees you’re the first in the classroom. “Eager to score points with professor Mcgonagoll.” You look up and instantly a little blush creeps up your face. “Apparently, I’m not the only one.” Mattheo avoids your eyes, but takes his seat next to you. “I’m not early for Mcgonagoll, trust me princess.” You stare at your book and press your lips into a line in an attempt to not look like a total love struck idiot. Mattheo glances over at you while reaching for his books. When he notices your cheeks redden his heart fills with joy.

A few more students enter the classroom, forcing you both out of your love bubble. You watch him out of the corner of your eyes, while you gather enough courage to talk to him about what you saw yesterday. You lean closer to him so you can talk without being overheard and Mattheo turns towards you. “I’m sorry about what Harry said yesterday. He’s an idiot sometimes.” Mattheo keeps his eyes focussed on you, but it takes all his effort to not get angry again especially now that he knows you heard what Harry said. “I want you to know that despite that they’re my friends, I really don’t think like they do.” You slowly move your hand to lay on top of his arm as a way of showing him you care and aren’t afraid.

Mattheo searches for words, but all his mind can think of is how badly he wants your arms around him and not just your hand on his arm. When he finally opens his mouth Mcgonagoll walks in and you pull your hand back and focus on her. Mattheo adores you quietly before quickly brushing his fingers against yours. You turn to look at him and he leans in. “I know you don’t judge like they do. Maybe you should hang out more with me, could be fun?” His sweet whisper and genuine smile have your cheeks redden again. You smile and nod, thus silently agreeing that you should most definitely hang out more with him.

You spent the afternoon studying with Mattheo and right before dinner you even spent some time with his friends. It made it obvious that there was something blooming between you two and when you finally said your goodbyes you walked away the happiest girl at Hogwarts, unable to hide that happy glow around you.

***

After you spent yesterday afternoon together, Mattheo hadn’t been able to talk to you. It was like your friends were purposely keeping you away from him or maybe you didn’t like spending time with him. Either way Mattheo’s mind was working on every possible worst case scenario. Part of him wanted to stop pursuing you, because getting attached and then losing you would be worse. Maybe that thought is why he couldn’t keep his cool this time. “Everyone knows his dad’s evil and insane, but I mean his mum must’ve been absolutely mental.” Mattheo clenches his jaw but decides to turn around and follow his friends to the great hall. “Why else would the whore fuck someone like Voldemort.” At those words Mattheo snaps, dropping his bag and taking a few long strides to tackle the asshole who was talking. “Didn’t you hear that you need to keep your mouth shut, ‘cause their son is equally insane.” His fist hits the guy right in the face, causing his nose to start bleeding. The second punch doesn’t come in as hard since Blaise already has a hold on Mattheo.

When Blaise puts some distance between Mattheo and the other guy, Mattheo takes a breath and looks away from the douchebag. Mattheo’s heart breaks when his eyes land on your horrified face. No need to worry about losing her anymore. You just lost her, well done. You watch his figure disappear in one of the hallways and make your way to the great hall for lunch. You feel miserable for not being with him. Even worse, you can’t spot him anywhere in the great hall. During transfigurations the chair next to you stays empty and it’s almost impossible for you to pay attention, but you try your best to make notes with the intention of giving them to Mattheo later.

No need to worry about losing her. You’ve already lost her, well done.

***

The knock at the door of Mattheo’s dorm startles him mainly because he doesn’t hang out with the kind of people that knock. I’m either going to punch, smoke or fuck the idiot that’s come to bother me. He opens the door to see your flustered face, making him drop his attitude. “I first thought you were in the infirmary, but I’m glad to see you’re alright.” Mattheo nods still shocked to find you at his door. “You came to check on me?” For a moment you feel a bit like an obsessed person, showing up at his dorm without invitation, but then you remember your notes. “I also brought you these.” Mattheo laughs a moment and you look confused. “That’s sweet, thanks.” You feel awkward, but Mattheo notices. He clears his throat and opens the door a little more. “I’m really grateful for these, I just- my mind wasn’t thinking about class at all.” He signals you to come inside and you carefully take a few steps. “I honestly didn’t expect to ever see you outside of class again.” Mattheo admits, making your eyebrows knit together as you shake your head expressing confusion.

“The fight, earlier, I know you hate it, me.” You take a step towards Mattheo when you sense the vulnerability in his voice. “I don’t like it when you fight, but I do get that some people really deserve to get punched.” Mattheo stares at you trying to figure you out, but failing miserably. “I remember your face from a few months ago when I was fighting, I’ll never forget the disgust in your eyes and today again you looked horrified.” A soft chuckle escapes you as you feel the embarrassment boil up about what you’re going to confess. “I probably made that face, because I hate to see your pretty face all beat up. That’s why I was so relieved that you didn’t get hurt today.” At a terribly slow rate a bright cheeky smile creeps up on Mattheo’s face. You can’t help but feel like you’re dying of embarrassment as his face lights up at your confession. I’m such a love struck loser with my notes and petty excuses. He totally knows I’m in love with him. This is so embarrassing. You get pulled out of your train of thoughts when Mattheo’s hand reaches for the back of your head pulling you into an intense and loving kiss.

When he realises you really like him.

[libraryofgage]

I realized Steve is absolutely that kid whose parents put him through piano lessons solely so they could have another way to show off at parties and shit. And then that thought morphed into a little Steddie plot bunny and here we are lol:

Steve doesn't know it's the last time he'll sit at the grand piano, the last time he'll press down its keys and let music fill the empty room before bleeding out into the empty house.

He doesn't know that when his parents next come home, his mother will notice how horribly out of tune the instrument is. He doesn't know that it will be sent off somewhere for repair (his parents won't tell him where, no matter how he asks, and he'll never quite understand why) and lost to him. He doesn't know his parents won't bother buying another one; it was only ever there to impress party guests when Steve sat down and played some Bach. Without those parties, company or otherwise, there's no point in getting another one: both the piano and Steve will have outlived their usefulness.

He doesn't know that he'll be storing away his sheet music, carefully placed into folders and in a waterproof box for safekeeping. He doesn't know that he'll soon become too consumed by high school and dating and monsters to idly write down notes on a staff. He doesn't know that when he's swinging a nail-ridden bat in the future (to destroy monsters, sure, but destruction is destruction, right?) he'll ache with the pain of missing the act of creation as a means of stress relief.

He doesn't know any of that, so Steve sits down at the grand piano with a soft smile, gently trailing his fingers over the keys before lining them up in the Middle C-position. He runs through a few warm-ups, letting muscle memory take him away, so he doesn't have to think. Without another thought, he seamlessly transitions into idly playing, bits and pieces of everything he remembers and songs he's heard blending together.

Mozart's Air morphs into Beethoven's Fur Elise into Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. It doesn't all sound good together, but that's not the point when Steve plays by himself. All that matters is letting his brain shut off for a bit, letting the notes and echoes mingle together to create something new and joyful.

After two hours on the piano, his wrists are aching; he always forgets to hold them in the proper position when he plays alone. But it's a good ache, one that reminds him of the music still dancing around in his brain.

Steve takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, feeling the last of his tension dissipate. He lets his hands linger on the piano for a little longer before standing and leaving the room, tragically unaware of his imminent and unavoidable loss.

--------

Steve is sprawled across an old couch in Gareth's garage, reading Eddie's well-loved copy of Lord of the Rings. He'd promised to at least give it a go, and he had to admit he was looking forward to finally understanding some of the references Hellfire Club and the kids make. His progress is slow, but he's almost halfway through after two weeks of work. Reading while Corroded Coffin practices helps; the background noise of their music is perfect, letting him ignore all other sounds and focus.

Of course, that's provided they actually play continuously instead of starting the same song over and over only for Eddie to stop them halfway through. When it happens for the sixth time, Eddie growls in frustration, tugging harshly at a lock of hair. "It still sounds wrong!" he cries, dropping into a crouch while cradling his guitar close.

"Stopping us halfway through isn't helping," Gareth points out, idly twirling a drumstick as he watches Eddie's lament.

"Do you know what's wrong yet?" Asher asks.

Steve can longer focus on Lord of the Rings. Instead, he places the book on his chest and looks at the band to watch how this plays out. Eddie scowls and looks up at Asher. "Unfortunately, Ashy Baby, no."

Jeff, meanwhile, has locked eyes with Steve. And because Jeff knows the perfect way to get Eddie off their asses is to get him on Steve's instead, he says, "Why don't you ask Harrington what he thinks?"

Eddie whips around to look at Steve, eyes wide and hopeful. He doesn't even bother standing from his crouch, instead waddling his way over to Steve and testing his ability to hold back laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight. "Stevie, baby, sweetheart, lover boy, please tell me that wonderful brain of yours has an idea so your favorite boyfriend can finish this rocking song."

"You're my only boyfriend."

"Which automatically makes me your favorite," Eddie points out, grinning as he leans closer. With Steve still laying down, Eddie's the perfect height in his crouch to kiss him. He lingers for a few seconds before pulling away, and Steve knows his own smile matches the dopiness of Eddie's.

"Have you considered adding a piano?" Steve asks.

"None of us know how to play," Asher says, and Steve would look at him if Eddie's face and hair and shoulders and everything weren't filling his entire line of sight.

Without thinking, Steve hums and says, "I do."

"Do what?" Eddie asks.

"Know how to play piano."

There's a silence that follows his sentence, one that makes Steve's stomach lurch as he wonders if he's maybe fucked up the shaky peace and friendship he's finally managed to build with the other members of Corroded Coffin. He doesn't know how his words might have done it, but he's scrambling to somehow take them back when Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth, the bands of his rings pressing against Steve's lips.

"Gareth, you still got that keyboard?" he asks, keeping his eyes locked on Steve. There's a light dancing in them like he's just discovered magic is real, like Steve has amazed him beyond imagination.

With a grunt, Gareth gets up from his drums and steps into his house. The rest of them stay in silence while waiting, Eddie refusing to remove his hand no matter how much Steve licks his palm. When he finally gives up and just glares at Eddie, his boyfriend grins brightly back.

"It's a little dusty, but it'll work fine," Gareth says when he comes back, and Eddie finally moves his hand and body, allowing Steve to see Gareth setting up a keyboard a few feet away from his drums.

"Okay, sweetheart," Eddie says, taking the book from Steve and carefully setting it aside before pulling him off the couch, "you've heard the song enough. Play what's missing."

Steve hesitates before walking over to the keyboard. Eddie sticks to him like a shadow, sliding his arms around Steve from behind once he's standing in front of the white and black keys. An odd nervousness churns in Steve, tugging at his spine and making his palms clammy, but he knows it would be much worse without Eddie there. If he had to play in front of the band without feeling like anyone was on his side, he'd probably just throw up instead.

"It, uh, it's been a while," he says quietly, easily falling into the muscle memory of tracing the keys and finding Middle C and dancing his fingers through warm-ups despite his words.

Eddie squeezes him tighter as Jeff asks, "Since you've played? Why?"

Memories of his grand piano rise in Steve unbidden, overwhelming him in a rush of longing for the instrument itself and the relaxation of playing. "My parents paid for lessons and had me play at company parties. They, uh, sent it off to be tuned, but it got damaged, and they didn't get another one."

"That sucks, Stevie," Eddie murmurs, soft and reassuring and Steve suddenly feels far more confident.

He looks up at Jeff. "Can you start playing again?" he asks, flashing a grateful smile when Jeff nods and starts strumming the song's opening notes.

Steve listens closely, breathing in the tune he's heard so many times and letting it take hold. He doesn't allow himself to actually think, letting Jeff's guitar and Eddie's arms and hair and scent drown out everything else. Before he knows it, he's playing a hesitant tune that grows with confidence as he follows the song laid out before him. He's always a measure behind, chasing the guitar's echoing notes as they fade.

He and Jeff make it through the whole song without Eddie telling them to stop. When the final notes of guitar and piano echo together, the latter still chasing the former even at the end, Steve is shaking with excitement and anxiety and grief and joy.

He lets out a slow breath, feeling tension he didn't even realize had lingered for so long finally draining from his shoulders and dissipating. Steve can also feel Eddie's face pressed against his neck, a smile searing into his skin as Eddie squeezes him even tighter.

"I love you so fucking much, Stevie, that's exactly what was missing," Eddie says, his words the only warning he gives before pulling Steve away from the keyboard and off his feet and spinning him around. His surprised yelp quickly morphs into laughter that still lingers even after Eddie has set him down again.

Gareth and Jeff and Asher have already started discussing how the other parts of the song might change with the addition of a keyboard, but Steve is too busy turning in Eddie's arms and kissing his smile away to pay them any mind. He can worry about inevitably being roped into the band's practices later, after he and Eddie are breathless and flushed and smiling bright.

[osachiyo]

𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐎𝐘, 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 — dazai, chuuya, Fyodor, nikolai, oda

˚➶ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — fem!reader, sfw content, so much fluff, children, nikolai is actually a good father in this i swear, swearing in chuuya's, best viewed in dark mode

˚➶ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — wdym do i have baby fever why would u even ask that? also im begging for some fluffy asks </3 not proofread

𝐬𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 . . . just some cute little scenarios with daddy!bsd men <3

dazai stared at his 2 month old baby girl sleeping in her crib, drooling on the little pink teddy bear you two had bought for her. it was almost 3 am — the time she'd wake up every single night and start crying for milk, effectively ruining both of your sleep. he knew you were tired, you needed rest — but you couldn't just leave your baby crying all night. that's exactly why he offered to do it for you, waking up exactly at 2:30 am, just to watch his baby sleep — waiting patiently for her to stir awake all while admiring his baby's cuteness.

she's got your nose — he thought while smiling fondly, tracing a slim finger over her chubby little cheeks before gently poking her nose, making a little 'boop!' noise while doing so. she stirred a little from the contact, her face scrunched up all cutely as she slowly woke from her slumber. "morning, sweet girl," dazai whispered, gently picking her up from the crib and cradling her — shushing her little cries. at least she isn't going full crier mode — he thought to himself, relieved that he managed to calm her down.

"let's not wake up your mommy, okay hun?" he muttered, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of her head — a chuckle leaving his lips as he watched her make grabby little hands to the formula filled baby bottle in his hand.

"oh you want this?" he dangled the bottle in front of her eager face — her eyes lighting up as she babbled random words to her daddy, translating to "yes please!"

"sure, baby — buuuut! — you have to give daddy a kiss first," he grinned, moving his awful bed-head out of his face and revealing his cheek to her, ready for a kiss from his tiny princess. and as if she could actually understand him, she placed a kiss on his cheek, though it was mostly her trying to eat his cheek instead, but everyone has to start somewhere, right? at least that's what her father thought.

you slept like a baby that night — but you did find dazai in the baby room in the morning, sound asleep on the carpeted floor with his little bundle of joy in his arms

chuuya knew you needed a break from your mommy duties — like everyone does once in a while. so like the wonderful and caring husband he was, he bought you a ticket to bali — insisting that he would be fine. after all, how hard could taking care of a toddler be?

"fuckin' hell.." chuuya grumbled, gloved fingers through his ginger locks as he clicked his tongue. he was going through some very annoying paperwork that his subordinates apparently couldn't do right — which was so damn frustrating. and he had to keep an eye on his sweet 3 year old daughter, who was playing on the floor, mumbling a random children's song while doing so. chuuya didn't know how in the actual hell you managed to multitask like this — doing all the housework while taking care of the kid? it genuinely impressed him.

"—ak!" his train of throught suddenly got cut off, as he heard his daughter. he looked over at the small child, who was happily waving her doll around. "did you say something, honey?" he questioned, walking over to kneel beside her as he eyed the heap of toys — mayybe you were right, he thought, he did buy her too many toys.

the toddler looked at her daddy, the beaming smile on her chubby face made him want to just scoop her up in his arms and stay like that for hours.

"fak!" she squealed, slamming the poor doll on the floor — as if it were the most exciting word she'd ever heard. chuuya's face went pale — sweat already beading at his temples as he imagined your reaction to your daughter saying the forbidden word.

"nonono don't say that — that's a bad word, sweetheart," chuuya scooped her up before placing her on his lap, as she tilted her head, staring at him in confusion, "..fak?"

"shit — you've got to be kiddin' me.."

"shit?"

"NO — oh god damn it!"

"yes, good girl — put it right there," fyodor pointed at the chess board. the toddler only stared at him in confusion, looking at the chess piece in her stubby hand before looking back at her father. "come on, you can do it," your husband encouraged, never getting impatient.

"i don't think it's possible for a 4 year old to play chess, fedya dear.." you let out a chuckle, taking in the amusing sight of your husband teaching his precious daughter how to play chess. "anything is possible, my love," fyodor replied, trying to stop his daughter from putting the chess piece in her mouth. "riiight... her trying to eat the pieces definitely doesn't help your case, darling," you laughed, rolling your eyes at how silly your beloved could be at times, no matter how many people see him as a genius.

"she's learning," he retaliated, taking the piece away from her before dangling her favourite candy in front of her cute little face — "if you can put this right here, i'll give you the candy, okay? easy enough, right?"

the toddler only pouted, bottom lip jutting out as she whined — "but daddy, you can do it yourself!" fyodor sighed, apparently, she was having trouble understanding why she should do it when he could easily do it himself.

“darling, that’s not the point — the point is that i’m trying to play a game with you and it’s your turn.” the young girl’s frown only deepened, face scrunching up in frustration while she sulked in her seat.

“i think she deserves the candy, don't you, hun?” you smiled, turning over to your daughter — who only nodded in return. “she’ll get her candy after she puts the piece in the correct spot.” your husband clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval at you giving in so easily. “she’s just a child, honey..” you sighed, cheek resting on your palm.

fyodor was about to give another witty reply when you both heard a small sniffle — both of you looking over to the little girl; her lips were wobbling, tears running down her soft cheeks. “oh no no, sweetheart — c’mere,” it’s like he did a total 180, previously annoyed features now softened and evident guilt painting his face. your daughter only seemed to cry harder at that, snot running down her nose as she ran to fyodor, burying her face in his chest. “there, there..” he sighed, frowning at the way her body shook with each hiccup. “told you,” you grumbled, stifling a laugh at seeing fyodor panicking and handing her a good amount of the sweet treats — only for her to stop crying the moment she got what she wanted, a mischievously cute grin gracing her face. like father like daughter — you suppose.

"daddyyyy! — stay still!" the little girl whined, eyebrows furrowing as she combed through nikolai's snowy hair. "you've been brushing my hair for 30 minutes now, princesssss!" he whined back, matching her childish tone. "it needs to be perfect," his precious daughter sighed out loud, acting as if she was stressed — perhaps she learnt that from you, he snickered at the thought.

"alright, alright.." he sighed, straightening his posture — smiling as he felt tiny hands comb through his white locks. at least she's gentle with it — he practically shuddered at the thought of his precious hair being yanked and pulled by a toddler.

"daddy, you need to close your eyes," she huffed, running over to grab her little box of accessories and clips, before returning back to her dad. "whatever the princess wants, i suppose.." he chuckled, closing his eyes — feeling her decorating his hair with whichever accessory she desired. he could never really say no to her.

after a few more moments of waiting, she was finally done — excitedly telling nikolai to open his eyes. "tadaaaa!" she giggled, throwing her arms up in the air as he opened his eyes, a cheshire smile immediately gracing his lips as he stared at his reflection — hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, as various colours of heart shaped clips decorated his head. "you did such a good job, dove!" he grinned, scooping her tiny frame up in his huge arms, as she squealed. he threw her up into the air — making her squeal even louder before easily catching her, both of them howling with laughter.

moments like this makes him glad he didn't leave to get the milk.

"how does your mom even do this every morning.." oda sighed, trying his best to figure out how in the actual hell to do his daughter's hair. and the worst part? he only had 10 minutes until the school bus arrived. hell, he already spent the last 20 minutes brushing and detangling her hair!

"daddy, there's not much time left!" the 7 year old complained — watching her dad struggle with her hair through the mirror. he was debating on whether to call you for help, which he quickly decided against. she's on vacation, she should enjoy it thoroughly without any worry — he thought to himself, clicking his tongue as he messed up what was supposed to be a simple pigtail once again.

"daddy.. there's only two minutes left!" the girl whined once again, kicking her legs as she grew more and more impatient — while her hair situation grew worse and worse. "um, alright sweetheart — how about you just go to school with your hair down?" oda sweat dropped, trying to convince his daughter to the best of his ability.

"you know i can't do thaatt!" she groaned, giving him a pout. "right — well how about —"

the honking of the bus outside cut him off, as the little girl only sighed.

he somehow convinced your daughter to not snitch to you about her going to school with very crooked pigtails. buuut, he did take some hair lessons from you after you came back.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

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