#junk puppy

[notbecauseofvictories]

I like doing my shopping early. I especially like that hour-ish when I am the only customer in the place and can quietly drift between the aisles listening to the employees talk among themselves, replace stock, and get ready for the day. But it also means that I'm never quite prepared when wild things happen at 7am outside the grocery store.

That particular truism was impressed on me anew this morning, when a man biked past, screaming, with his underwear---the only item of clothing on his person---clutched in one hand.

[teenageclown]

so excited

[averygamin2]

Friends From the Junk Cube

I realized these guys never get any attention so here’s the contents of my junk drawer!(aka a blue storage cube I’ve literally had since I was born)

[murderousink23]

07/21/2024 is National Ice Cream Day 🍦🌎, National Lamington Day 🇦🇺, National Creme Brulee Day 🍮🇺🇸, National Junk Food Day 🇺🇸, No Pet Store Puppies Day 🐶🇺🇸

[woodfrogs]

its like as soon as you reach a certain age your family becomes determined to drive you to the end of your rope as quickly as possible until you move out

[riveroxbow]

holy shit seeing my caged bulge in women sweats is so hot /////

[slipstreamborne]

I think there should be a resurgence in porcelain knicknacks and figurines.

The popularity of vinyl blind box sets and 3D printed super hero busts across demographic groups that would otherwise mock Precious Moments and china cabinets full of blown glass hummingbirds and cut crystal puppies shows that people just love having little guys with no purpose but to stand around and be looked at, there's just a range of rather strong opinions about style and subject matter.

The next generation is almost certainly going to find what you love bafflingly odd at best, a hideous dust catcher at worst, so why settle for yet more cheap plastic junk to clog landfills and shed microplastics when you can have "heirloom pieces" that smash dramatically when called upon, erode beautifully when subjected to the sea, and are a continuation of our 30,000+ year tradition of little clay people that bring us delight?

[acid-ixx]

worthless speculations (a loving family, an unpalatable desire drabble)

ft. yandere superfam x gn! neglected spouse reader x yandere batfam

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist ! ; related post !

all it took was a candid shot of the resident, widowed journalist who's not-so subtly hiding his affair with the infamous spouse of bruce wayne to spark immediately rumors.

for weeks, it seems, the table has once been turned on bruce as you've found yourself the center of attention, spending time with your new family, with the very man who has come to save you months ago from the cruel hands of the paparazzi.

it started with the first picture, which quickly blew up into many photographs in such a short span.

one of a simple date, where some stranger, a fan of you, saw you at a park, having a cute picnic with both clark and jon. at first, most would assume that clark's probably just a close cousin of yours, with just a kid you're babysitting, right?

wrong. the proximity you have with the unknown man is too intimate. someone's got a close shot, and through the lenses, you wouldn't even need a damn interpreter to just see how his palms are rested against your thighs, massaging occasionally without thought nor pattern, as if it's been a natural habit of his; or how in another shot, he handfeeds you the sandwich, then takes a bite in the same spot you have bitten. he doesn't take a napkin to wipe away the remaining condiment on your lips, and—

oh!

he licks at his thumb then quickly brings his lips near yours, closing the space in between with a peck that draws out too long to be even considered remotely platonic.

a kiss packed with longing and desire.

his tongue sneakily swipes at the remaining cream on the side of your tongue. your nose crinkles and you swat his face away, but you don't look disgusted, don't even pull away as you softly swipe away the strands of hair framing his glasses.

some commentor mentions how warm your face looked, another replies with just how your fingers quickly made their way to fiddle with the man's arm in another candid photo.

the child beside you, meanwhile, makes a grossed face, cringing at the obvious romance— then he clings to you, slapping his dad (?) away from you. his hands are wrapped around your waist, and click!

it looks like the kid's looking up at you with puppy eyes, mumbling something whilst you laugh and ruffle his hair. another spectator managed to capture a video.

then a lipreader on twitter made out the words the kid is saying. he's begging for ice cream, he says with a pout, neapolitan, he says, and that he made sure to eat all the vegetables in his sandwich. then he grins when you giggle at him and whip your head to the man beside you who replies with:

"oh, sweetie, don't fall for his lies; he just sneaked junked food last night to his bedroom."

the kid, who's now famously referred to as jon, your precious little baby, as you love to call him — and since the internet is so obsessed with drama, a lot of people were smart enough to piece the puzzle together, the man you're with is clark kent — sticks his tongue out his father, then stubbornly crosses his arm yet just as quickly return to his begging.

the person recording hidden behind the bush had to do a double take, their hands shook when the audio recording picked up your faint whispers, and they were sure to gods that you referred to yourself as... as clark's spouse?!

and did jon just call you his parent?

you're brave— no, scratch that, the people you're with are even braver.

it's like they're making it obvious that you've been claimed into another family; that you oh-so easily estranged yourself from the wayne's to live a mundane, yet peaceful, loving life with the kent's just to escape the constant torment of living under an empty roof.

but still, to be that obvious is a dangerous move, isn't it?

to show up in public, unannounced, in matching trio outfits, sometimes even appearing with another unknown figure who always has shades on, to a crowd of people who take pictures of you every moment is such an iconic, yet ruining admission that you've basically (and rightfully) had an affair with no shame.

after all, who would ever think of cheating on a billionaire, one of the most famous, too!? that's basically asking for a divorce, which leads to losing all your assets. most socialites who marry into old money families are aware that even if your partner cheats, you'll still be strong enough to bear through the pain, but god are you brave for making another scene just some days after, in a cinema no less without a care in the world if the people around you watched your barely disguised pda.

well, you aren't most socialites to begin with, you've only ever married for convenience.

even when news stations were going haywire for the rumors, when so many commentators on tiktok, podcasts on twitch and youtube have you as their main topic of the week— your little family is nonchalant about everything.

it was the number one trending tag, the only headline every person focused on.

and the best (or worst in your case) part of it all, is that this was all perfectly curated by your own affair partner.

a little handholding, soft touches and caresses on your cheeks, muscled palms resting comfortably on your shoulders, and jon's tiny hands latching onto your body, nuzzling on the expanse of your stomach whilst his head tilts up to look at you with the widest puppy eyes, asking you to buy him more sweets with his freckled smiled and toothy grin— it creates this immaculate opportunity for passerby's with enough knowledge about the wayne's messy relationship status to immediately catch on to the infamous face of bruce's poor, naive spouse now in a date.

and it's not even the first date you were all caught together.

who wouldn't whip their phone out faster than the well-known speedsters to conspicuously take shots of your seemingly happy and satisfied composure?

unlike with all the moments where you are with bruce, pictures of your uncomfortable hold on his shoulders, the stares from a distance never directed at you from galas, or the way your hands quickly unwrap from his the moment your magazine pictures are finished— you look refreshed, downright gleaming brighter than the sun that could even make some senile, grumpy man smile.

your small fanbase grows quickly: people never knew just how gorgeous you are not until they see your lips quirked up, mischievously peppering the unknown child with kisses, then standing on your tippy toes next to the hulking figure beside you to give him a gentle peck on the lips.

in your current place at the farmer's market, you are glowing like a ray of sunshine, never before had the crowd ever seen you without a strained smile, never seen your eager eyes at your affair partner's sweet surprises, never seen you so willing to pick up your child and pepper his face with kisses all over his face at yet another cheesy joke he concocted.

and it's perfectly become a topic of gossip for the citizens of gotham and metropolis on the seemingly new, and unexpected affair of one of the richest man in the world's spouse.

well, if they could even call you bruce's spouse, not when his eyes are always elsewhere. not when there's been dozens of news highlighting the gossips about bruce's past affairs.

and right now, it seems you're not even wearing the diamond encrusted ring on your finger anymore. the longer you are exposed to the public, the more people notice the lack of bedazzled jewelry, or even notice

and instead, you sport a simple silver promise band on your left hand, which somehow gleams brighter than your previous ring. you wore more casual clothes, sometimes match color schemes with your little family. most of the time, you wear your affair partner's huge jackets and let it drape across your body.

others say your lazy efforts, your carelessness compared to your rigid styles before felt more befitting for you— and you are... cuter whenever they see you beside clark to assist him with his office work with a matching messenger bag hanging off your shoulders.

some people were so invested in your relationship, a close-up zoom in on clark's wallet revealed a picture of your family with the addition of ma and pa kent in his wallet's clear frame. his fond smile while looking at the photo made fangirls swoon.

and with you always trying to reach atop the nest you call his hair, always ruffling it to fix the mess, people began seeing you two as the couple goals, an embodiment of what years of love looked like despite only being together for months in their; people are unaware of how long your affair has been.

never knew clark has set his sights on you since the day of your marriage with bruce.

but it's alright if people only see the surface level of his devotion to you—

because at least his beloved is thriving.

and at least their support, their obsession over your relationship with him helps in tying you even closer to him—

without your complaints, without your hesitation.

because you love him, and he loves you. jon and even conner has warmed up to you. they all love you, and no amount of material compensation bruce throws at you can amount to the dedication and patience clark has burnt off for years to scoop you in his arms at your lowest moments.

just like a true superhero does.

he loves seeing you as the best version of yourself everyday, and you only do so because you're with him and the people who actually love you, only them.

some people who bumped shoulders with you every time you dropped jon off to school said you even smelled even less intense, like you didn't feel the need to bathe in expensive perfumes anymore. you are softer now, more homely and buzzed with a familial joy none has ever seen or felt in you before.

unlike last time, you're more confident in greetings. reducing your appearances in galas lessened your eyebags. you were the epitome of new beginnings, a symbol for citizens that maybe second chances aren't too scare in the first place.

people whisper that you've probably divorced bruce, or that your previous husband doesn't give a damn about your affair.

a person occasionally tweets questions regarding your affair, if bruce is aware about the entire thing, if it hurts his ego, or if he doesn't care at all. his fanbase still loves him, obviously. they still see him as their beloved problematic playboy, but it's concerning how others sweep your affair under the rug with every new gala published, or how news about his children sometimes overthrows the current gossip of the day about you.

of course, the media feeds off the drama like bottom feeders. there's a resurgence of even more theories regarding your complicated relationships. one person even briefly mentioned what a coincidence it is that the dick grayson is found to be eating at an adjacent restaurant beside the one you and clark were found out.

there was a trending tweet once, one that highlighted the strangeness of your previous children's sudden frequent appearances in metropolis too.

others argue it's just an overreaction, but nobody ever denied that claim itself.

some people are anticipating bruce's reaction to the tweet, too. would he stay silent, would he grovel at your feet, or is this some sort of competition between these two?

there's a conspiracy that bruce is letting all the drama simmer down, that this may be a publicity stunt. a smaller fanbase that liked your complex relationship with the man wanted you both to return together, many argue that you look better off with him— clark feels the urge to find each and every individual who's stated this if not for your current laughs in the kitchen with jon distracting him from darkening thoughts at every annoying theory.

though most of the time, thankfully, others defend your actions and clark's, even stating that it's right that the once silent and solitary spouse of bruce deserves at least decent treatment; because from all the gathered news you before, it's always just you who fusses over bruce's children like a worried hen, it's always you who adjusts and kisses your husband's ties with a fond, yet tired smile.

and some miss those softer moments they've seen on screen, even bruce himself finds his fingers dangling on his past ties in his office, unknowingly reminiscing on the warm lips that once held the same tie. and the hot dinner left cold and diverse snacks untouched always left beside his desk, and your worried coo every night he stayed up late, and...

and just how much of a perfect spouse you actually are.

it's only when it's too late, when you're too deep into your romance with clark that he finally discovers how much he misses you, your concerned whispers, your frustrated quirk of the eyebrows that you hide from him every time he rejects your advancement, your constant presence in his life until it felt like it was never there, the way you weaved yourself so easily into his life and slipped away just as quickly because of his stupidity.

in a moment of weakness one evening, when restlessness and the yearning for your soft touch urged him once more, bruce finally gained the courage to confront all the rage about you—

he tells himself it's out of curiosity, just that.

nothing else, but god, the sight of you with someone else for once hurts more than intended.

it punches him even more in the gut once he realizes that you're with his coworker, his teammate, his trusted friend who displays himself as the perfect puzzle piece beside you in every article. you don't wear your old ring, don't even wear a single piece of clothing in your old wardrobe full of luxury items.

you're different, but you're still you... just better off without him, without his children, without alfred or the comfort and protection of the manor.

alluring as you've always been, but you shine even brighter now, draped in gentle sunlight that dims in comparison to you.

and the longer he stares at your pictures, at your smile, the way your cheeks would slot so perfectly between his palms, and your hair that he knows he'd soon love to bury his nose in—

the easier it is for his hands to make its way to his contacts, ready to call alfred and his children—

and he finds himself concocting a plan faster than the need for rest swept away from his thoughts when he sees your silver band, the same design he found one day on clark's fingers after a mission.

of course, bruce is aware that he has to deal with the consequences of his actions, that his idiocracy led him at a stalemate where he's aware that your chances of returning to him is a measly zero—

but heaven forbid him, for he's still bruce. he's no lesser than the cunning, strategic vigilante he's known to be.

he'll always be one step ahead, and rummaging through the records on his desks reveals no sign of divorce papers, no legal precautions taken for custody and no angry relative of yours (who only sold you off to him to earn their share of profit) angrily contacting him.

it'll be one hell of a night, but it doesn't matter.

why?

the headline and content for the next day on a newspaper for the gotham news—?

"y/n wayne, spouse of famous philanthropist, billionaire bruce wayne found back in the arms of their old flame—?"

"there's been newer speculations, of y/n's supposed ex-husband and their children finally reconciling with each after after months of rumors regarding whether their divorce is real or not."

"—and after some investigations and a statement from the husband, bruce wayne, himself; it was finally confirmed that their divorce, was in fact, never legally processed— because, as it turns out, it was never filed at all."

a/n: that took a dark turn HAHAHAH you guys think this will be something cutesy? NO! this is my late april fool's attempt at fluff bec i love drama. please comment about what you think about this and let me hope to god this gains interaction </33 i like writing affectionate scenes with a tinge of insanity scattered in between.

also hive minds and parasocial relationships are seriously creepy to think about. that's why i tend to not often disclose personal things relating to me because of how easy it is to track someone and their life down 😭 this has been sitting on my drafts for a long time and i nearly forgot about it until someone reminded me to write for this series soo... transitioning pov's is genuinely such a struggle btw, ugh ☠️ hope u guys enjoyed this bec this is by far the hardest drabble to write.

taglist:

@imjustasimp132, @mimiiiiiiiiisstuff, @chericia, @queenofspades403, @naina326, @neerathebrightstar, @lilyalone, @sweetconnoisseurgardener, @nickey-diano, @tsuniio, @ssak-i, @kore-of-the-underworld, @lollipoppersposts, @peptox, @kdjhubby, @weirdcore-fantasy, @thypplover, @asdfghjklgayblog, @prince-nikko, @phoenixgurl030, @antionwithadrawingpen, @circe143, @ferchu0406, @kittzu, @yuyuzi-ling, @moonieper, @esthxio, @ryuushou, @nickey-diano, @ssak-i.

[akai-anna]

me, watching the proceedings of the current round of Jane Austen Men polls, and just waiting for the final results, like it's the day of Doom and Chaos. esp on the darcy poll.

[sillyswriting]

: ̗̀➛ roommate johnny 'soap' mactavish - 02

cw : sexual theme

ㅤㅤ     ㅤ  ㅤㅤㅤ collection - prev ⋆ next

anyone would have thought that after you almost broke his nose, johnny would have learned to at least warn you when he was coming into a room. but all those people didn’t know johnny. as much as he could be the most professional person you knew, he could also be the biggest man-child to have ever graced this earth.

his new amusement was to scare you off any chance he got. you’d come to realize that, for all his loudness, he could be eerily quiet when he wanted to be. to be honest, johnny mostly loved to observe you, without you knowing. what could he say? you were one of the most beautiful lasses he had seen in his life. he also knew you found him attractive, which was why the flirting hadn’t stopped.

johnny was not a pusher. if he had noticed you were absolutely disgusted by him and his body, he would have stopped his advances and let you live your life. the problem was that your eyes lingered on his arms, his pecs, his abs, his v-line, his thighs… he had seen it. he'd give it to you, to untrained eyes, you checking him out would have been mostly invisible. sadly for you, part of his job was to notice everything. so he kept the flirting. if anything, it became constant.

more and more, every time he left his room, johnny had the tendency to be less dressed than before. you asked him, a lot, to at least put a shirt on, but he refused, pretending that he ran hot. it was the middle of winter, how could he be that warm?

the final straw had been when you'd invited some of your girlfriends over, having a night in, eating junk, and gossiping about old friends. you had asked him if he was okay with it. his answer had been simple, 'it's yer place as much as mine, lass.' so if he knew your friends were over, why the fuck did he appear in the middle of the living room, only wearing his boxers, asking if he could borrow some of your laundry detergent?

before he could say anything, you grabbed his arm, pulling him angrily toward the kitchen and slamming the door behind both of you. it felt like deja vu, but you were lecturing him about wearing proper clothes when people were visiting and so many other things that johnny had already forgotten. he hadn't been concentrating on what you were saying but rather on your breasts. who could blame him? you liked to talk with your hands, making them jiggle. he was just a man, after all.

"aye, everythin’ in the wash, bonnie," was the only apology you got.

after that, you had a very painful and long conversation with your friends, explaining to them that no, you were not sleeping with your roommate. no, you didn't know why he was shirtless. yes, you found him attractive, but it wasn't like that. and judging by their faces, they didn't believe you at all. that night, they all left, telling you that with a specimen like that under your roof, you could have a lot of fun.

you didn't know it, but johnny had heard everything, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling. he was so close to his goal. of course, he wanted you in his bed, but he wanted so much more than that. when he wasn't flirting with you, johnny had actually gotten to know you. you were so bloody interesting, and passionate about what you did. you were everything he was looking for to finally settle down.

johnny never believed in god. after all the things he'd seen during his life, he didn't think a higher power was looking down at him. but the very moment the electricity got cut off in your flat, he swore god was real. no power meant no heater, and the nights were really cold in scotland. he also knew you couldn't live without your heater on, always cold, his sweet birdie.

so he waited, gently in his room, like a puppy waiting for his treat. after about twenty minutes, he heard your door open. had he been a real puppy, his tail would’ve been wagging so fast. a soft knock was then heard on his door. when you entered, you couldn’t see anything. johnny liked to sleep in total darkness, while you always let a bit of light from the blinds into yours. irritated, you asked him if his heater worked.

"na, but i know somethin' thon could warm ye up," he suggested. you could hear the smirk. you regretted it the moment you asked what. "guid auld johnny."

that's how you had found yourself in his bed, all the blankets in the flat on the both of you. you were lying close to each other, and god, he was a furnace. how could someone be that warm without being sick? compared to him, you were ice. and johnny was dead set on making you melt, apparently.

"take the sweater off, lass," and at first, you thought you hadn't heard him correctly, but he added. "body heat can heat ye up right quick, it's common knowledge, aye."

now in just a tank top and some shorts, this felt like deja vu. johnny had never been happier. you were so close to him, and he was just thinking about the best way to approach you without ruining his chances forever. he slid slowly toward you, cuddling up to you. when had he taken his shirt off? did he even have a shirt?

you didn’t know how to react. you were getting warmer, but it wasn’t fast enough for you. at the same time, the feeling of johnny’s body glued to yours, one of his legs between yours, sent a warm feeling through your entire body. it was going to be hard to fall asleep, wasn’t it? trying to relax your body, you closed your eyes, trying to imagine you were alone in your bed with a very big, strong, warm pillow behind you.

it worked, until you woke up in the middle of the night, and you were freezing. how was it possible? johnny was pressed behind you, and still in your drowsy state, you didn’t register the hard thing pressing softly against your lower back. feeling around, you couldn’t reach any of the blankets—did johnny throw them off? with how warm his body was, you figured he must have been sweating at some point. but now, you were cold.

you started squirming a bit in johnny's grip, trying to escape his arms. for sure now the power was back on, you could go back to your room, with your blanket and your heater. the movement woke johnny up. "staid air gluasad, till air ais gu cadal," he murmured into your neck, his voice and accent thick with tiredness. at your soft "what?", it registered in his brain that, in his sleepy state, he had spoken a language you didn't know.

"stop moving, birdie," he then said, a bit more awake. moving his hips against yours, he added, "ye're no gaun'ae like the consequences." your soft moan was the only thing his brain needed to be fully awake. oh. his moment had come.

slowly, one of his hands made its way between your thighs, feeling you over your shorts. the other one was already massaging one of your breasts. "ye cauld, sweet girl? dinnae worry, johnny's 'bout tae warm ye up."

and god, did he warm you up in the best way possible.

[dadsbongos]

sweetnerd

@toxycodone / @maniacpixiedreamboy been waiting to post this one for ya (based on this post of his)

summary - daisuke -desperate for some release after months of passionless jerking- begs to eat you out one night.

1 k words / 18+! mdni

Recently, the lock on medical had been snapped off. Thankfully, you knew the culprit to be Swansea after a belligerent search for painkillers. And unfortunately, you were responsible for watching over the numerous drugs each night.

Well, you claim it’s a misfortune but really you placed the burden upon yourself. Anya insisted that she would sit with you -- seemed borderline inconsolable at the idea of you being there alone. Then she told you where she hid the ship’s gun.

You weren’t sure why a nurse and her assistant had access to the gun when even Captain Curly didn’t, but you also weren’t getting paid enough to ask. Besides, you’ve never had a reason to use it so why concern yourself?

As if sensing all such serenity, the Tulpar bangs outside. Then Daisuke is clambering inside, hands on the doorframe and cheeks flush. His knees are pressed together, his whole body bent like some cheap hanger. Hair tousled, strands upright in odd angles -almost electric in nature. If not for the utter strangling silence behind him and his heavy breathing, you might’ve thought the rest of the ship was on fire.

“Dai… suke..?” you sit up groggily, scrubbing exhaustion from your eye, “The hell’s wrong with you? Do you know what time it is?”

“Do you?” he shoots, abandoning the argument a second later in favor of quietly humming, “I wanted to ask you…”

“Yeah?”

“Uhm, ugh… It was easier in my head… earlier…” he mumbles, hand drifting down toward his pelvis. He scrunches the crotch of his sleep pants, a lofty sigh escaping at the squeeze, “Can you- I’m just, you get it? You’ve gotta,” he clenches his eyes, seemingly shaking away the humiliation that very instant and looking at you with the biggest, wettest plead you’ve ever seen, “Can you please sit on my face while I jerk off please? Please?”

The pinched look on your face does not scream disgust, which only relieves him slightly -- he hadn’t really considered what he’d do if you reported his question to Captain Curly. Head too hot with want to forethink something as trivial as a sexual harassment lawsuit.

“Why…?” you lean back, hesitant though not appalled.

“I need to get off, like crazy,” he stumbles forward, slow enough for you to roughly shove him back if you want to, “All I got is an old mag, and it’s junk!” you can hear the delirium thrumming through him the longer you keep him waiting, “You’re so hot, I just wanna eat you out… You don’t even have to do anything, just ride my face! I’ll be good, I promise. We can stop whenever, too, I don’t need to finish,” he swallows harshly before whispering something you’re not totally sure you were meant to hear, “Just the memory could make me cum anyway.”

“Uhm…”

“I’ll give you some of my sweetener stash!”

“I don’t want that, Daisuke…”

“Then forget you heard it!” his dark eyes scramble over your body, “What else can I give you?”

Your own gaze flips over his shoulder, out the still open medical door and down the hall. Empty. Quiet. You snag him by the loose collar of his spare Pony Express shirt, sunshine fabric pillowing between your finger, wrangling him into the bay.

“Just be quiet,” you hiss, “The lock’s busted.”

Daisuke’s rosy lips drawl upward, loose and loopy and disbelieving, “You’re serious?”

“Aren’t you?”

He nods hastily, jumping back onto one of the care beds before flattening across it -- pleading silently up at you with wet puppy eyes while scrubbing sweaty palms down his thighs. Crinkling the soft material until it’s ricketing down his knees; watching hawklike as you slowly strip. Then you crawl atop of him, he clutches you by the hips and blows out a wildly uneven breath.

Barely able to find the strength to blink -lest he be cursed to cut the sight of your bare skin from his eyes- Daisuke only just scrounges the wherewithal to assist you into kneeling over his scorched face.

Exhaling between your thighs, Daisuke winds one hand around your thigh -blunt nails digging into the fat- while wrapping his cock with the other.

Craning his neck, he approaches eating you out the exact way you assumed he would: eagerly and without forethought. Absent of technique, but so full of hunger; his tongue parting and swirling wherever he pleases in that moment. As rhythmless as he is, he’s overtly sloppy -- wet clicks livening the silent room.

Billows of loose breath echoing. You sigh as he whimpers into you. Your weight jostling over his face as he bucks wildly into his tight fist -the resulting gasp only makes him thrust up harder.

“Ah, Daisuke,” pure instinct encourages you to reach down and wrangle his hair, keeping him still for you to grind down and fuck his face. Swirling your hips for that wet friction and Daisuke puts up no fight: only moaning louder into you. Vibrations making you shudder and weep again, “Ah- Daisuke!”

He croons beneath the praise, thumbing the soaking head of his cock while tongue-fucking you open. Desperately stretching his neck to nuzzle deeper into you with his own mewls leakier than a broken faucet. The messy sound of his clenched fist rapidly working his cock grows louder -- you glance over your shoulder to find him shiny with precum. Hand a mere blur over his thick erection. Ruby head peeking at you with every thrust until pearly ropes are painting his knuckles -- some more ambitious shots flying onto your back.

You’d somewhat expected him to slide back like some content, melty goop.

Daisuke surprises you when he smears cum over you whole before using it as lube to slide in, nearing knuckle deep. He moans in time with you as if he can feel it -or maybe just because feeling you clench around him is that good.

“God,” he whimpers beneath you, fingers curling inside you, “I could die down here…”

It might’ve been alarming, if he hadn’t said it so dreamily.

Maybe you’ll let him go down on you more often, if he’s always going to be so eager.

[murderousink23]

07/21/2023 is National Lamington Day 🇦🇺, National Creme Brulee Day 🇺🇲, National Junk Food Day 🍔🇺🇲, No Pet Store Puppies Day 🐶🇺🇲

[justwonder113]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

🎧 Shutting you up mid argument with a kiss - Maknae line edition 🎧

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Hyung Line

📖 Summary:  Basically what the title says 🤭

⚠️ Warnings:  Cursing as always; Arguments; kissing; fluff; angst but nothing too extreme; If I missed anything please tell me; NOT PROOFREAD

🖋️ Author’s Note:  Saw a gif of a man shutting a girl up with a kiss and got inspired so hopefully you'll like it. Will do a reverse version too so stay tuned~

📝 Word Count:   3k

📜 Masterlist: | ☕ Ko-fi:

💬Reblogs and comments are truly appreciated—they help more STAYs find my work, and your feedback means a lot to me. ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Han

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

To say that you were pissed off would be severe misunderstanding. Your whole day was just a pure nightmare. Everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong and now, to put it simply, you were basically a walking ticking bomb. The slightest disturbance would be enough to tip you over the edge and make you snap. 

Honestly all you really wanted was to go home and just sleep. Preferably with Jisung cuddling you, but you weren’t picky.  

As long as you got some sleep. 

Your apartment was dimly lit when you entered so that’s why you didn’t notice Jisung’s  bag he most likely he just threw on the ground when he got back home. Thank God you managed to catch yourself mid fall, or else would have broken at least a nose. And you would have to kill Jisung. 

Hoesly you wanted to yell at him. You had warned him at least million times to not leave his junk out in the middle of room like that. But at the same time, you were so tired you decided against it. 

“Hey baby.” You heard Jisung’s raspy voice before you felt his arms around you, his scent immediately surrounding you, almost fully melting away the day’s stress. 

The keyword being almost. 

Because the minute you were done with your stuff you immediately went to your bedroom. 

And the sight made your blood boil. 

“Han Jisung get your ass over here!” 

You head the screech of his computer chair. A heavy thud. And then quick footsteps of Han rushing full speed towards the room. 

“What is it are you okay?” He was so out of breath and visibly panicking and normally you would have found it endearing but not today. Not now. 

You pointed at the bed which was covered with unfolded laundry. You asked Han million times to take care of it. You were tired of watching it migrate from bed to the chair in your room. But here you were. You weren't’ perfect example of cleanliness and you knew Han was a messy person, but it was like he never cleaned after himself. You knew he had hectic schedules, but you weren’t free as a bird either. Also, it was tiring for you to be one always cleaning around the house. So, him leaving the laundry untouched yet again really tipped you over. 

“I’m sorry baby, I completely forgot about it....” Han started frantically explaining himself, clearly nervous and guilty but you didn’t let him finish. 

“No, I asked you so many times to take care of it! It’s your laundry too! You always promise to help with chores, but I am always stuck doing them all alone!” You took a deep breath, noticing yourself how you were slowly picking up a pace as you argued. You hated whenever you lashed out like this, especially at Han, but damn it you were tired! 

“I am not your personal made Jisung! I don’t understand why you treat me as such! Or do you think magical faeries keep the house clean or some bullshit like that. All I wanted was to go to sleep and finally relax but now I have to stress about how the house is a literal mess. It just simply shows how little you respect me!” 

“Baby...” He started again but you were not done. You noticed that he was starting to get anxious, that he was watching you with sad puppy eyes while fidgeting with the hems of his hoodie, lifting his weight from one leg to the other. You felt bad but you had to speak up. 

“Don’t baby me Jisung. I am tired too. How many times are you going to conveniently forget to do something and watch me do it for you?” 

“I’m sorry baby. I really am.” You heard Jisung mutter out. 

“You can’t just get away with this by saying sorry. You always do this! Apologize and then do the same shit a...” You couldn’t even finish your sentence. 

Because he was kissing you. 

His hands cupping your jaw, so gently, so desperately. 

Like you were most precious and fragile porcelain doll. 

You have kissed millions of times. You got through various of different things together. But never like this had he kissed you. 

You felt your anger slowly wash away as you slowly sank into the kiss. 

“What’s with the kiss?” You finally asked, breathless, once he leaned back, your heart beating like crazy. Your whole body on fire.  

Jisung smiled, his hair disheveled from your hands, his lips red and swollen from kissing you. His face clearly flushed, though you doubted you looked any better. but he still looked awkward. He leaned in and gave you another short peck. “I promise I will be better.” You both heard and felt him mutter this against your lips. His voice low, sincere.  “I will help around more.” Another kiss and you felt like floating. “I’m really sorry I made you feel like I didn’t appreciate you.” 

“You better make up for it then.” 

“Right this second your highness.” Smiling just like his usual sunshine self he leaned in and gave you another loving peck before heading to start cleaning up, starting with the laundry on your bed. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Felix

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Some people say family is everything. And honestly? They’re right. They’re the people who know you best, who support you through life’s toughest moments, who stand by you no matter what. 

They’re also the people most likely to drive you absolutely insane. And make you want to pluck out your hair strand by strand. 

Like, it’s one thing when a stranger is being mildly irritating—someone cutting in line, talking too loudly on the phone, or walking too slowly when you’re in a hurry. That’s annoying, sure, but you can shake it off. It’s temporary. 

But family? Oh no. They know exactly where your buttons are, and they press them with the precision of a NASA engineer launching a spacecraft. And because you love them—because you can’t just walk away forever—it somehow makes their antics ten times more infuriating. 

It’s the paradox of unconditional love: the people closest to you are also the ones who can send you into a spiral over something as simple as the way they chew their food. 

Let’s just say tonight’s dinner was a total battlefield. 

And you didn’t know if you were winning losing. 

Do you know how some people have this relative everyone or almost everyone keeps comparing you to since you’re born? It’s a complete nightmare if both of you are the same age. It’s always lie do you know they did this they did that, they have the most perfectest grades, they graduated early, they are now studying medicine, law or something really respectworthy like that. Oh they work now, oh NASA just recruited them, oh they saved a president.  

And worst of all they are getting married so when are you. 

It is especially hard when your family knows you’re dating. And your boyfriend of three years (oh no right) is right next you and your family absolutely loves him! So you can imagine how the boot on your neck pressuring you to get married got heavy. 

For the whole night you had to hear basically everyone’s opinion on how you should live your own damn life. They didn’t even let you say anything! And when you finally managed to speak up and say something they ignored you and went over you like you were some dumb kid. 

And then the perfection incarnate decided to have a chat with you and Felix- meaning you had to hear a whole ass speech how perfect their life was. And god that condescending tone! Honestly you still loved your family members, but damn some of them managed to piss you off so much! Like you wouldn’t even say hi to them if you weren’t related. 

Thankfully you were headed back to your house now and since you couldn’t really say anything at dinner now you were compensating by speaking  what was on your mind. Well arguing and ranting was a better word to describe your action but a person’s gotta vent. 

“Seriously the audacity some people have. If I have to hear how someone’s life is so perfect and amazing and how you should just set it as your life goal to live by their example I will lose my mind! And what’s up with this relentless marriage talk and you should have children bullshit?! I will get married and start a family whenever I see fit!” 

You were so passionate about your whole damn rant you didn’t even realize that you got home. You really didn’t stop talking for a whole ride. Talk about yapping. 

“And what was up with them cornering you about asking for my hand? It’s so frustrating! It's our relationship, it’s not something to be discussed so publicly like it’s everyone’s business. We will go in our pace. I mean as long as I’m happy why should it matter, right Felix?” You had barely finished your sentence when he decided to wrap his hands around you and lean in to seal your lips ina loving gently kiss. 

Your breath hitched, it was like your whole mind crashed like an old computer for a second. Your whole body was on a fire in a second, your heart beating like crazy. 

Did he even realize what kind of effect he had on you? 

“You’re cute when you’re worked up like this.” Felix whispered against your ear when he leaned back for some air. The hot breath sending shiver down your spine. 

“You’re such a tease.” You grumbled, but you didn’t really mind being shut up like this.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Seungmin

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

It started with something stupid like the correct way to load a dishwasher. Silly right? But now you had a whole silent war going on with him because both of you were prideful assholes. 

You knew it was dumb, but it just pissed you off how Seungmin always thought that he was always so right. Usually you loved how fact driven and logically thinking he was, you loved his confidence, but whenever pride also got in the way and he got all smug you just wanted to smack him. It made him more cold and smug like he was better than everyone else. And sometimes you felt like you were part of “everyone”. 

You hated when you argued, so you decided to do the next best thing.  

The silent treatment. 

But how long would that last? Especially when Seungmin was determined to make you talk. But eventually his resolve started to crack. 

“For how much longer do you plan to act like this?” You heard him ask, sounding all annoyed. 

You decided to ignore him and resume what you were doing, which ironically was the thing that made you argue in the first place. You were putting dishes in the dishwasher. 

And you obviously did it your way, which made Seungmin tsk. 

“It won’t get washed that way, it’s pointless to have a dishwasher if you’re going to place dishes like that. I told you that baby.” 

And just like that, with one comment from him, you snapped. 

“Can you shut it?” Your voice was harsh. You had never spoken to him like this. 

Seungmin scoffed. “So now you wanna talk?” 

You placed the dish down. “Yes because I'm sick of it! You always have to be right and it’s so infuriating you know?” You took a deep breath, here it went. “It’s like you think you're some genius above the rest of us—so smug, so condescending—" 

You took a deep breath. “Honesly it seemed like you only care about being right all of the time. Honestly sometimes you make me feel like you don’t even care about me!”  

Seungmin scoffed- "Smug? That’s harsh. I prefer ‘confident.” He tilted his head, a smug smile appearing on his face. He continued. “And let’s be honest, would I argue this much if I didn't care about you?"  

"Oh, so now you care? That’s rich—" You started exasperated, your voice rising by the second against your judgement. 

Seungmin stepped closer, his face unreadable. “Obviously I do. That’s why we argue over stupid shit like this! If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here arguing with you about how to place dishes in the dishwasher! I wouldn’t care how you do it. You also wouldn’t be yelling at me if you didn’t care either." You didn’t miss how his voice dropped, in the end, his voice sounded so sincere. But... 

You blinked.  

Not going to lie you didn’t know what to say. He managed to catch you off guard. But you were not going to back down. "I—No. Don’t flip this on me, this isn’t about me, this is about—" 

And then, without warning, his lips were on yours. At first you were confused, then came anger, because he was just shutting you up, avoiding the conversation, but then you realized. The way he held you oh so gently, despite his hands slightly trembling... And for the first time in your short relationship you saw right through him. It's like you saw him for the first time. Instead of shutting you up he was almost like apologizing. It was knowing. Deliberate. The kind of kiss that said, I hear you. That said, I don’t just think I’m right—It‘s just my way of taking care of you. I just want the best for you. 

The frustration dissolves into something else entirely, because really, who gave him the right to kiss this perfectly? His hand came up—just barely brushing against your jaw, lingering like he was waiting for you to pull away, except you didn’t. 

And by the time he leaned back his face still looked unreadable but now you noticed how tenderly his eyes were gazing  at you. 

"I love you." He said it like it was the most simple thing to say and you caved. 

A genuine smile found it’s way on your face. 

“I love you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

IN

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

It all started when your boyfriend decided he wanted attention. Which normally isn’t a a bad thing but it  can be disruptive when you’re working on a major project, when you have a tight deadline and when you really really REALLY have to focus. 

For the whole evening he didn’t really let you work in peace. He kept whining how you were giving him no attention and how it meant that you didn’t love him anymore. You had to talk to hyunjin later because he was corrupting your boyfriend. 

In the end you couldn’t really focus and you kept getting distracted over and over again. And in result today you were swarmed with complains from your boss. And let’s just sat you were pretty much pissed now. But you didn’t feel like arguing with him so you decided to let go. But you still wanted to vent about how much of an asshole your boss was. 

Jeongin was in a playfull mood today. And normally you loved his goofy side but right noe everything was irking you. You hinted at him several times that you wanted him to focus and listen to you without all the games and jokes but your every hint went over his head. 

“What a bitch!” He gasped dramatically and clutched his imaginary pearls. 

Now that you thougth about it you did overeact. 

You snapped. 

"Can you be serious for like...just five minutes, please?" Your voice was sharp. And you hated how he flinched for a second, not expecting you to snap out of you but you had to get everything out of your system 

IN quickly regained his composure and grinned. "Five minutes? That’s ambitious." 

"Jeongin." - You deadpanned. You hoped that  you using his name would make him realize that you were being serious. 

He blinked innocently still unaware. "What? I am serious. Mostly." 

And that’s was the breaking point. 

The frustration simmered over, and you started to talk. 

"You never take anything seriously! It’s always jokes, always teasing—how am I supposed to have an actual conversation with you when you act like a literal child?" 

Finally looking like he took this seriously now he raised an eyebrow. "A child? That’s dramatic." 

You couldn’t help but throw your hands up. "It’s not dramatic Jeongin. it’s the truth! You joke around so much, I don’t even know if you listen half the time—" 

The teasing glint in his eyes didn’t disappear completely, but something more focused, more intent sparked beneath it. He stepped closer, the usual playfulness slowly turning into something unreadable. 

He started to talk, his voice, sincere. Almost like a whisper. "I listen.”- He started- “I listen way more than you think." 

You decided to challenge him. "Oh, really? Then what exactly did I say just now—" 

You thought something shifter in a second and then you really felt it. 

One second he looked at you with passion, with something so raw, the next second his hand curled at the back of your neck and he kissed you like there was no tomorrow. It was raw and passionate. Your whole body was instantly on fire. You couldn’t help but cling onto him as he deepened the kiss. It was anything but childish—loving, deep, and entirely too knowing. Like he’s been waiting for this moment. To prove to you that he was very much a adult man. 

By the time he pulled away, his smirk was infuriatingly self-satisfied.  

Even more, the little tease started retelling you in every detail just what you had told him. 

"Still think I don’t listen?" Oh you would smack him one of these days. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

✧･ﾟ: Thank you for reading! :･ﾟ✧ 

If you enjoyed this story, reblogs and comments are truly appreciated—they help more STAYs find my work, and your feedback means a lot to me. 💬🖤 

📜 @annie-boleyn @velvetmoonlght @notastraykid @pixie-felix

 If you’d like to be added, feel free to send me an ask or reply to this post 🤍 

☕ Ko-fi — support my writing 

Any support is deeply appreciated and helps me keep writing more stories like this💌

[lay-z]

Hii, I've been a real big fan of your writing for a long time and i was wondering whether you'd be able to write a little one shot with Riley cumming prematurely, if possible! Best regards, anon🫶🏻

Thank you, nonny. Hope you'll like this. ♡ ˙ᵕ˙

cw: fem!reader (because you didn't specify, sorry...)

Simon tastes like home on your tongue. The weight of his fat cock enough to soothe your anxiety that has been accumulating all week, while you're kneeling between his meaty thighs. 

As soon as you returned home from your shopping trip with your dear friend―the crowded mall ending up being the overwhelming cherry on top on this Saturday afternoon―you dropped down on your knees in front of him in the living room with a heavy sigh and pleading puppy dog eyes.  

Not saying a word and not planning to for a while. 

“Mad fer it, eh? Aye,” he chuckles hoarsely, giving your cheek a few gentle pats with his left hand as you pout up at him, head resting against his firm inner thigh. “Sweet lass, don’t pout. Y’know what it does to me.” 

And it doesn’t take much of your groping and mouthing at his bulge through the soft fabric of his gym shorts until Simon whips his half-hard cock and heavy balls out for you to play with, knowing exactly that is what you need to get your mind back to a nicer headspace. 

The sound of the television fades into the background as you focus on his heavy breathing and those hoarse, hitchy grunts and groans that make your pussy tickle and drip into your undies. 

He’s leaning back against the sofa’s backrest now; cold beer bottle still clutched in his right hand while his other is cupping the back of your head loosely now, callous fingertips gently massaging your scalp. 

The smell of hoppy beer, musk, and cum fill your nostrils as you drag your tongue up and down the underside of his shaft, thick vein pulsing against the tip of your tongue as you catch a creamy bead of pre with a pleased hum. Salt and clean skin, a bitter hint of his bodywash lingering on your tastebuds as you lick him. 

“Yeah, y’like tha’, hm? Fuck, yes... My good fuckin’ girl.”  

His voice is a deep and rough rumble as he coos at you; muscles already twitching and flexing rhythmically while his grip tightens, fingers curling into your hair as his pale face begins to flush a deeper shade of pink; plump balls drawing up as you take him too deep and gag. 

“Right mad fer m’fuckin’ cock. Christ.” He clicks his tongue before smiling down at you crookedly, enjoying the few of your glossy eyes while you worship his cock and junk with your mouth. His chest heaves as you suckle on his tip, flicking your tongue over his weeping slit while you stroke the thick base of his prick. 

“Fuck,” Simon groans breathlessly, head tipping back against the headrest, “gonna cum, lovie.” His breath hitches, dark eyes squeezing shut as he moans louder, more desperately. “Ah, fuck–fuck!  Gonna cum on yer pretty face f’ya–ahh!”   

A delighted giggle bubbles up in your throat as you pull your shiny lips off his throbbing, flushed cockhead; more than happy to make him unravel so quickly. And you continue jerking him off with your hand, the other massaging his balls as he shoots thick ropes of cum on your grinning mouth and chin, the last weak spurts dripping down his shaft as he shudders and pants, slumping in his seat on the couch. 

“Fuckin’ hell, baby.” He’s right boneless. Heavy, warm hand dropping away from your head as he lifts his head to peer down at you with dazed, half-lidded eyes, causing your cunt to squeeze around nothing. Greedy and eager as ever while his cock barely softens in your grasp. 

He blinks slowly, reaches up to cup your cheek to drag his thumb through the sticky mess on your lips and chin with a dopey smile. “Feelin’ better?” 

You nod slowly, matching his pure look full of adoration. “Much better, Si,” you purr. 

And Simon huffs through his nostrils, pleased. If him cumming quick makes you that happy, he’d be the most foolish bloke if he couldn’t live with that. 

“Atta girl.” 

[l4ndoflove]

ln4 and 72 please 🙏

ocean eyes

feat. lando norris

lyrics preview there are two different types of "ocean eyes": magui's, icy perfection, and... lando's

maddie i really can't write a happy one-shot for my life :|

1405 words

next track ⏭️

It started stupidly enough, like most things did when it came to Lando.

You were sprawled out on the floor of his apartment, chest rising unevenly after he’d made you laugh for an hour straight, the movie you’d put on earlier only adding to your chaos as it kept playing in the background, long forgotten.

Everything—from the sound of his high-pitched chuckles to the smell of cheap takeout spring rolls—felt so familiar it was almost like being sixteen again: just the two of you, some junk food, and a bad rom-com you never actually watched, too busy mocking the corny lines to care about the plot.

Except now, it wasn’t just the two of you.

“Ugh.”

Magui’s groan echoed through the room like a cruelly timed reminder of her presence, making your head snap up from the carpet.

She was curled up on the couch, golden locks framing her face in perfect waves even as she tossed and turned restlessly, clearly struggling to find a decent angle for the selfie you figured she was trying to take.

You didn’t say anything, leaving Lando the honor of being the considerate boyfriend he always was.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Right on cue.

Your best friend jumped up from his spot beside you, resting his chin on the cushion where the blonde lay while staring at her with the same questioning gaze of a lost puppy.

“It’s just… why is the lighting here so bad? I mean, look at my eyes—they’re not supposed to be gray!”

The Brit squinted at the phone his girlfriend had shoved in his face, tilting his head to the side as he carefully inspected her reflection on camera.

Then, he entered the frame.

“Damn, look at this beauty,” he smirked, winking at himself through the screen.

Magui scoffed and pushed him away. “You’re not helping.”

“And you’re mad that my eyes look better than yours.”

You almost expected him to stick his tongue out at her like a toddler—so of course he did. Having known Lando for nearly all your life had taught you quite a few things about him (some you weren’t very proud of).

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re a sore loser.”

“You’re blind.”

“You’re blind.”

God, it really felt like you were third wheeling—scratch that, babysitting two children who constantly bickered over the most random things. It was entertaining, sure, but draining in the long run.

“You’re neutral. Sort this out.”

You didn’t realize they weren’t speaking to each other anymore until you felt both their gazes fixed on you, your brows furrowing in confusion at the sudden request.

“I–what?”

“You’re neutral,” Magui repeated, slower this time, like you were a little slow yourself for not understanding something so simple. “So you get to decide whose eyes are better.”

Your heart stuttered, almost as if it knew something you didn’t and was trying to warn you.

“Neutral? She’s literally my best friend!”

You silently thanked Lando for pointing it out, though something in that sentence grated on your ears like chalk on a blackboard—loud and out of place.

“Exactly,” the blonde nodded, her voice sugary sweet, “which means you won’t have any… effect on her since you’re just best friends, right?”

Every single word that left her mouth was calculated, aimed straight toward—what? You weren’t sure yourself, and that scared you more than anything else.

“Yeah, makes sense.”

Okay, that might actually be worse.

You opened your mouth to try and talk some sense into both of them, but Magui beat you to it.

She leaned down so that you were at eye level, elbows propped on her knees as she held her face between her hands, waiting.

Waiting for what, you asked yourself, your approval?

Not that she needed it: her eyes were strikingly beautiful, two captivating gemstones that reflected even the faintest specks of light, no matter how “bad” it was. The kind only princesses in fairy tales and models on magazine covers had, and that everyone fell in love with at first sight.

Including Lando.

Looking at her now, you didn’t find it hard to understand why.

“They’re… really pretty.”

You weren’t lying, and judging by the unimpressed expression on her face, Magui knew it. Who would’ve ever dared to say otherwise, after all?

“Alright, alright, my turn,” the Brit waved her off, already scooting closer to where you were sitting.

Too close. Definitely closer than he needed to be, anyway.

Classic Lando—getting in your personal space since when you were younger just to annoy you. Poking your cheeks when you were upset to earn a smile from you or making weird faces that would always make you laugh even after the worst arguments.

Your logic said you should’ve been used to him acting this way—but that didn’t seem to stand a chance against the storm raging in your chest.

“Get out of my face, Norris.”

Please, you wanted to add, but that first sentence already sounded more desperate than you intended it to.

“What, you can’t handle my handsome face?”

No, you couldn’t.

You couldn’t handle his stupid face being so close to yours, your noses almost touching, breaths mingling together.

You couldn’t handle knowing by heart every little detail of it, from the moles scattered across his cheeks and jawline to the shape of his lips—which you should’ve never looked at in the first place.

But most of all, you couldn’t handle his eyes.

Even after you’d grown up mirroring yourself in them, watching you both age and change, they still managed to mesmerize you every time.

Maybe it was how those unfairly long lashes grazed his cheekbones whenever he blinked, or the deep blue edges that faded into a green so light anyone could miss it if they didn’t pay enough attention. You couldn’t really tell.

They were a different kind of pretty from Magui’s, though—two icy lakes against the warm sea of his gaze, an ocean you’d learned how to swim in long before, but that was now pulling you under its familiar waves.

And you let it, hypnotized by the way his irises didn’t reflect light like hers: they captured and shattered it into a thousand bright gold flecks that adorned his pupils like the petals of a sunflower.

You loved them.

You loved... him.

The realization hit you so violently that it nearly knocked all the air out of your lungs, leaving you more breathless than you already were.

You loved Lando Norris.

Your best friend.

Magui’s boyfriend.

Your mind was screaming so loud you were afraid the other two could hear you through the charged silence that had fallen over the room.

It was unbearable.

You had to say something. Anything–

“Your eyes have a little green in them.”

You didn’t recognize your voice when you spoke—because you didn’t.

“Fucking movie,” you muttered, grateful you finally had something else to focus on. “Scared the shit out of me.”

That was the safest option, playing it off with humor. Like you always did. Like Lando had taught you: take the hit and cover it up with a smile.

You scrambled to your feet as if the carpet had burned you, dusting off invisible pieces of lint only you could see, hoping that the feeling of the boy’s stare on your skin would magically go away as well.

“Hey–where are you going? You didn’t even tell us who won!”

The excuse you were about to give him immediately died on your lips at the sight you caught when you looked up from your feet.

It played out in front of you in slow motion, just like one of those dramatic scenes you used to make fun of with Lando all the time: Magui reached out for him from the couch, cupped his jaw with her fingers and made their lips collide into a kiss.

And that’s when you knew she knew.

Because she wasn’t showing affection to her boyfriend—she was staking a claim on what was hers after seeing how much you wanted it, too.

When she pulled away, slow and deliberate, her cold eyes pierced right through yours.

“So?” she cooed, honey dripping from her voice. “Who won?”

You held her gaze. Swallowed your pride and the tears already clouding your eyes. Then you smiled, bitter.

“You. Congratulations.”

This wasn’t about your silly competition anymore.

It never had been.

© 2025 l4ndoflove. all rights reserved.

[lovesickfae]

14DWY is an 18+ game! Minors DNI!

Ren/AFAB reader

Summary: You find out what’s in Ren’s “storage room” though you don’t seem to mind that much.

Or angel matches Ren’s freak.

Word count: 2.9k

Ren belongs to: @14dayswithyou

Also Happy birthday my beloved RenRen ^_^

-

Your eyes land on the warm light that seeps through the cracks of your beloved boyfriend's storage room door. You’ve always thought it was strange that the lights seem to be on at all times, but you figured with the sheer size of the apartment he lives in he probably doesn’t pay much mind to the electrical bill. However, in this very moment -with Ren out on a trip to the grocery store to gather the missing ingredients of the dinner you were preparing- The urge to just take a peek at the room the pink-haired man always acted so secretive about, became a lot stronger. I mean, what's the harm, right? According to Ren the only thing occupying that room was just a bunch of junk. It couldn't possibly be worse than the state your own apartment is in anytime life gets too much. you'd be the last person to judge a messy room. You'd just take a quick look to get rid of that unsettling feeling you always get whenever you're near it. Ren wouldn't know you'd seen the mess, and you could finally stop overthinking it. A win-win situation.

You get up from your seat and slowly make your way over to the mahogany door. Your lift your hand, pausing in doubt for a second, before attempting to turn the doorhandle. It doesn't budge. Your brows furrow in confusion, the lock on the ominous door further inducing your anxiety. With a new found determination you reach into your hair and take out a bobby pin, still remembering how to pick a lock from that one time you locked yourself out of your apartment. You fiddle with the bobby pin until you eventually hear a click. You reach for the door handle again, and this time the door opens. You hesitate before entering.

Your eyes widen in shock as you take in your surroundings. The walls are covered entirely in photos of you. Every. Single. Inch. There are photos of you that are years old, photos that you didn't take yourself, photos that you've never posted or sent to any one, photos of you with your friends, though every face aside from yours have been aggressively scratched out. And are those... photos of you sleeping?

That's not the only thing. There are stacks of clothes- your clothes- clothes you thought you lost years ago. You recognize used napkins and cups from your favorite cafe, traces of your lipstick still lingering on them.

All of a sudden everything clicks. Violet seeing a tall guy leave your apartment. The feeling of being watched. Ren's constant personality switching. His possessiveness over you. His discontent for your friends. His clinginess. Him knowing things about you that you had never told him. Your missing laundry. It was all so obvious.

-

Ren makes his way into his apartment, groceries still in hand. "Angel?" He calls out with a smile on his face, like an overexcited puppy returning to its owner. "I'm home!"

His brows furrow when he's met with nothing but silence. He walks further into the apartment, putting down the bags in his search for you. He walks towards the living room, expecting to see you asleep on the couch. Unease begins to rise within him, when you're nowhere to be seen. He calls out your name as he continues his search for you, moving towards the hallway.

Dread. Horrifying dread, is the only thing going through Ren when his eyes are met with the open door to his "storage room''.

He doesn't even register that his feet had carried him into the room up until the moment he stood before you, your back facing him.

"A- angel?" He utters out, sounding more fearful and uncertain than he had ever before.

You turn around very slowly. Your eyes are wide with confusion and fear. Like a deer caught in headlights. Ren's heart aches at the sight of you. This wasn't how It was supposed to go. He can fix this. He has to fix this. He tries to remain calm. He tells himself that worst case scenario, he'd just have to start over. Create a new persona. Win back your love.

Your name falls from his lips again. "I can explai-" You interrupt him before he can finish. "Did you-" you breathe out and a smile slowly begins to form on your lips. "Did you do all of this for me?" You seem almost ecstatic.

"What?" A million thoughts race through Ren's head. You moved towards him, placing a hand on his face. His breath hitches and he finds himself almost frozen, pure confusion etched onto his face. You should hate him. Now that his Haruko persona had slipped up, you should be yelling and running telling him how disgusting, creepy and outright violating this is. Yet you stood before him looking at him as though he were a saint. Caressing him with the tenderness of a devoted follower. Your lips land on his. All his confusion and fear get pushed away, the only thing occupying his mind being the feeling of your lips on his, repenting him of all his sins. He breaks out of his trance and kisses you back fervently, hands landing on your waist to pull you as close as humanly possible.

You were the one to break the kiss, Ren looks down at you lovestruck, eyes half lidded, panting and already hard. "Yes, it's all for you. Everything i do is." You tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear. A smile still beams on your face.

"This is the sweetest thing someone has ever done for me." You say breathlessly.

Ren's confidence begins to grow when he feels you slowly grinding into him. A smirk appears on his face, you let a small yelp of surprise, when he pushes up his leg in between your thighs. You pause for a second. "Go ahead angel. Don't stop now." That confirmation was all you needed to continue rutting into him. You resume your movements on his -still clad- leg. The friction of the cloth only pushing you to grind that much harder into him. Ren smiles, one hand on your waist to hold you steady, the other moving all over your body, eventually settling on your massaging your breasts through your shirt. "God." He sighs. "Angel, if I had known you were into this, I would've showed the extent of my devotion to you much, *much* sooner. Your only response is to moan. He kisses you again, deeper and more dominating this time. You melt into him completely.

Before you know it, you're being lifted off your feet as Ren carries you to the far end of the room where a large desk stands. He sets you down atop of it. In between more of your belongings and pictures. Ren latches his mouth onto your neck and your hands slip under his shirt. Before your eyes get a chance to roll back in pleasure, they spot a pair of your –probably used- underwear on the desk. You let out a particularly loud moan as Ren continues leaving mark after mark on your skin. You remove your hands from under his shirt. One moving to grab the panties, the other finding it's place in his hair. You pull his head back with one sharp movement, there's a look of mischief in your eyes. You hold out the panties Infront of his face, balancing them on one finger. Ren moans, head bend at an awkward angle from the tight grip you hold on his hair. "How often have you jerked off using these?" You taunt him. Rens eyes widen, unsure of what to respond. "c'mon answer me. I know you do. You wouldn't have these otherwise."

Ren relents. "I- I don't know. Often. All the time. I think about you all the time." He whines. You feel yourself grow wetter at his confession. You take advantage of his panting and shove the panties into his open mouth, gagging him. He gladly accepts. "I bet this isn't your first time having them in your mouth. I bet you were wishing your mouth was on my pussy while you moaned and whined as you got off on my used underwear like a creep." Ren whines and nods his head pathetically in confirmation. Your free hand grabs hold of his face, squeezing his cheeks together, your face only an inch from his. "My creep.”

At that Ren breaks free from your hold with ease, removing the panties from his mouth, giving them one final lick, while never breaking eye contact. He takes both of your hands into one of his, pinning them Infront of you. He kisses you. "All yours. Only yours." He kisses you again. ''You're telling me you've never touched yourself thinking about me angel? I know you have. Or else you wouldn't be here. Reading this."

Ren continues kissing you, slowly moving down further with every kiss he leaves until he eventually reaches your core. He somehow manages do undo your pants with only one hand, the other still occupied with keeping your hands pinned. His teeth graze over your clit, still covered by your panties. "You're so fucking wet." He groans and proceeds to lick a stripe over the already soaked piece of cloth before taking them off. He stashes them away in his pocket, his face only inch from your aching cunt. "For my collection." He mumbles before finally putting his mouth on the place you need him the most. He moans into you. His free hand is placed on your hip to keep you steady.

Ren eats you out like a man starved. Lapping up your juices like water in a desert. His tongue going back and forth from circling your clit to dipping into your wet heat. You moan and buck your hips into his face. "Ah-yes. Use me. Use me to make yourself feel good." He says in between licks. He finally let's go of your pinned hands, opting to instead put his fingers to use by burying two of them in between your walls. He begins pushing in and out, excruciatingly slow at first. You whine. He says nothing, too busy sucking on your clit to respond.

You grab hold of his hair again, pushing his face deeper in between your legs. Grinding into him as though your life depends on it. Ren swears he's been sent to heaven. Here on his knees. Worshipping you on your shrine like the heavenly being you are. You own him completely. His heart doesn't beat to pump around the blood in his body, nor to keep him alive. It beats for you, and for you alone. It beats in an achingly painful, yet blissful, pace of love and devotion when it comes to you. Surely it would give out if he ever went but a second without you. He can only see, so he can stare at your divine beauty until his eyes dry out. He can only hear to take in the melody of your voice. He can only smell, so his nose fills with the scent of your sweet perfume. He can only touch, to trace his fingers over your silklike skin. He can only taste so that he can taste your sweetness on his tongue. And God, you taste oh so sweet.

His fingers begin to pick up the pace. Your body begins to stiffen and Ren knowns you're getting close. he's seen it a million times before. How your eyes squeeze shut, how you hold your breath as you begin to shake. It is so, so much better getting to see it in real life, up close. Getting to be the one that makes you cum.

He spells out his name with his tongue in his final licks, before sucking on your clit harder than ever before. You cum around his fingers and mouth. Hard. So hard you almost see stars. Your moans increase in volume, and you begin to shake, yet he doesn't stop, he doesn't even slow down. You squeeze your thighs around his head from the overstimulation and the moan he lets out his almost animalistic. His cock is so painfully fucking hard against his pants, yet he remains focused on you, fingers scissoring inside you, face covered in your slick. Your eyes fill with tears as you cum a second time. Ren finally pulls his head away; however, you're barely given room to breathe as Ren gets up and eagerly shoves his tongue inside your mouth. You happily accept what he offers, tasting yourself on his lips. He grinds into you and grunts. You notice how pent up he is and start moving your hand towards his hard-on. Before you get the chance to come in contact with it, he grabs your hand and does it for you, moving your hand over the bulge in his pants. He buries his face in your neck, breathing in your scent as he continues rutting into your hand. A wet patch beginning to form on the cloth of his pants.

You lift your hand away from his pants, in order to take off his sweater. He returns the favor by taking off yours, he places soft kisses onto your breasts. Your hands are now at the edge of his turtleneck. Your eyes meet his, your concern showing. "Can I take this off Ren?" He pauses for a second, contemplating it, before slowly nodding his head. He places his hands on yours, helping you remove the last piece of fabric standing in between him and his marred skin. His eyes search yours and he holds his breath, anticipating your response. Your eyes rake over his bare chest and arms. You drag your hands over him. "You're beautiful Ren."

He sighs in relief, he finds you smiling, eyes fixed on the tattoo of your name occupying his throat. You kiss it. Once, twice, trice. Mouth lingering longer each time. You move onto the scars on his arms, littering them with feather light kisses, as though you're afraid of hurting him. Ren's eyes begin to water. "I- I don't deserve you angel." His voice is fragile. "Love you s'much." Tears begin to fall. You take notice of them and wipe them away, oh so gently. Replacing them with kisses. "What are you talking about? If anything, I'm the one who doesn't deserve you. No one's ever cared for me like this. I should be the one calling you angel." Ren places a kiss on top of your head, like you're the most precious thing in existence. "You deserve everything. you are everything." Ren responds breathlessly.

His mouth lands on yours again. He kisses you. Years of longing and pent-up emotion finally pouring out. He keeps one hand on your face, the other moves down towards your body. Tracing the curves of your bare skin. You move to unzip his pants, finally freeing his aching erection. His member throbs in your hand as you pump it up and down. You align it with your entrance. His eyes search yours and you nod before he starts pushing in.

He pauses once he's all the way in. Giving you time to get adjusted to his size. After a moment, your hands on his back start pushing him forward, urging him to start moving. He starts off painfully slow, teasing you by pulling out almost entirely, leaving his head at your entrance, before slamming back in. However, it doesn't take long for him to lose control, pounding into you. He barely registers muttering confessions into your ear. "Wanted this f''so fucking long angel. Love you s'much."

You gasp "I love you too Ren. Tell me every disgusting thing you've done. Please."

Ren obliges without hesitation, his only need to obey you, to please you. "I- I watch you through your webcam. I see everything you do all the time. I touch myself whenever you do, I match your pace, pretending like I’m the one that’s making you feel good. God I can’t believe I finally get to have you.”

Your nails dig into his back, leaving scratches in their wake. "Fuck- yes mark me. Show everyone that we belong to each other." He grunts. You oblige and he starts repeating your name in a mantra, thrusting harder and harder in between each time he utters out your name. His hand moves down to your over sensitive clit and swear you begin to see stars. “You’re close sweetness, I know.” Ren whispers lovingly. “M’too. Wanna fill y’up so bad.” He mumbles, barely audible.

You let go one final time, so intensely you thought you’d faint. Ren follows shortly after. Emptying himself inside of you. You stroke his hair as you both try to catch your breath. He eventually pulls out of you, his cum beginning to drip down your thighs. Your lips meet again and before you know it, you’re being carried to bed. He puts you down, covering you with the sheets, then slips in next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You’re the first to fall asleep, Ren takes his time admiring you until he can’t keep his eyes open any longer. That night, Ren slept better than he ever had before.