#pulled to 320

[pitayas-plushies]

Day 320 !!!!!

hello friends !!!! mommy chick & baby chick 💕

13 days left !!

[delku]

theres more intimacy in the last 5 minutes of whm than the entirety of the manga put together. ever think of that

[daggryet]

average genshin player's a millionaire wth

[rot-decay-erosion]

doing the notes thing because I don’t get notes on anything other then SBG posts

50: I’ll clean my nasty ah room

100: I’ll have an actual hangout with my family and not hide in my room all summer.

175: I’ll eat three meals a day for a week instead of barely 1 meal a day.

215: I’ll take proper care of myself for 3 days straight (hygiene, food, leaving the house, not ghosting my friends etc)

320: I’ll go to sleep before 12 instead of staying up till 4 or pulling all nighters 👍

500: I’ll learn to draw on my iPad 👍

Nvm pookies I’m not sick af anymore 😨

[pucksandpower]

To the Moon and Back

Lando Norris x astronaut!Reader

Summary: not many people can say “I love you to the moon and back” literally … but you’re the exception

Based on this request

Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves 🫶

The roar of the engine echoes through the car as Lando revs the McLaren 720S Spider. You glance over at your boyfriend and can’t help but smile. His eyes are bright with excitement beneath his helmet.

“You ready for this, love?” He asks, giving your hand a quick squeeze.

You nod, adrenaline already pumping through your veins. “Let’s do it.”

As an astronaut, you’re no stranger to G-force. But taking a hot lap around the race track with Lando is a different kind of thrill. The track marshall gives a thumbs up and Lando eases the car out of the pit lane. He takes it easy for the first few turns, warming up the tires.

“How’s it feel?” He asks.

“Smooth,” you reply. “Can’t even tell we’re going 200.”

Lando grins. “Oh just wait.”

He floors it down the back straight, pinning you back against the seat as the speedometer climbs towards 320 kilometers per hour. The G-force builds as he brakes hard into the next corner, expertly controlling the slide.

You let out an exhilarated whoop. “Now that’s more like it!”

Lando chuckles. “Barely getting started, babe.”

The next few laps are a blur of adrenaline and speed. Lando dances the McLaren through the corners, braking impossibly late before powering out in a controlled slide. You relish the forces pressing you back into your seat, so similar yet so different from a rocket launch.

As you pull back into the pits, crowds of fans erupt into cheers. Lando parks the car and hops out, pausing to take off his helmet and run a hand through his curly hair before coming over to help you out.

“So, what did the astronaut think?” He asks with a playful grin.

You’re still catching your breath, heart pounding. "That was insane! What a rush."

Lando looks pleased, keeping an arm wrapped around you as you’re swarmed by fans seeking autographs and photos. Most want a moment with their favorite driver, but a few recognize you as well.

“She’s the astronaut girlfriend, right?” Someone asks.

You nod, giving a little wave. “Yep, that’s me!”

The fans seem impressed that you were able to handle Lando’s hot lap so easily.

“Wow, you took those Gs no problem!” A teenage girl remarks.

You laugh. “Well, I have some practice from launch and re-entry.”

“You must be fearless to be an astronaut,” adds an awe-struck boy.

“It’s intense for sure,” you agree. “But so rewarding.”

Lando smiles proudly, giving you an affectionate squeeze. “My girl’s a badass. Takes a lot more than some high-G corners to phase her!”

You laugh and pose for a few more photos before Lando regrettably has to head in to prep for free practice. After a quick kiss goodbye, you wander through the bustling paddock, enjoying the infectious excitement in the air on race day.

You’ve just grabbed a water bottle when you hear rapid footsteps behind you.

“Y/N, wait up!”

Turning, you see Lando’s performance coach approaching. He gives you a polite smile. “Got a minute?”

You nod. “For you, always. What’s up?”

He falls into step beside you. “I wanted to run something by you. Lando seems distracted lately during training and physio. Have you noticed anything off with him?”

You frown, thinking back over the last few weeks. Now that he mentions it, Lando has seemed a little distant at times.

“I have noticed he’s been quieter than usual,” you admit. “But I figured it was just nerves or fatigue going into the season.”

Jon nods thoughtfully. “Could be. I know he really wants to impress this year. But as his girlfriend, I thought maybe you’d have a better sense of if anything else is on his mind.”

“I’ll try to talk to him,” you promise.

“Appreciate it,” Jon says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

You part ways and head out to the pit wall to watch the start of the race. But your mind is only partially on the action, thoughts preoccupied with concern for Lando. He’s normally so upbeat and energetic, but thinking back, you realize there has been a muted quality to him lately that is unusual. You wrack your brain trying to pinpoint if there was a specific incident that triggered this change, but come up empty.

After the podium, you pull Lando. “P3! What a freaking drive," you give him a quick kiss.

His eyes brighten momentarily. “Thanks, love. Feels good to start the season off strong.”

You study his face, wishing you could read his thoughts. “So … can we talk later? Maybe grab dinner in the city before heading back to the hotel?”

Lando shrugs. "Sure, I guess so."

You frown slightly. His response is lacking his normal enthusiasm. But the paddock is too crowded to dive deeper now. “Great, it’s a date!” You say brightly, taking his hand as you both head out to spray champagne. You’ll get to the bottom of this tonight.

After a flurry of post-race obligations, the two of you finally slip away to a quiet restaurant downtown. When the waiter steps away with your orders, you reach across the table to take Lando’s hand.

“So, what’s really going on?” You ask gently. “And don’t say nothing. Everyone can tell something’s been off lately.”

Lando sighs, avoiding your eyes. He runs his free hand through his curls. “It’s stupid, really …”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “If it’s bothering you this much, it’s not stupid. Talk to me, babe.”

He’s quiet for a long moment before responding softly. “I’m worried I don’t deserve you.”

You rock back slightly, caught off guard. “What? Where is this coming from?”

Lando keeps his gaze down. “It’s just … you’re this badass astronaut. You literally go to space! And I’m just a guy who drives cars in circles.”

Your heart aches for the vulnerability in his voice. You give his hand another supportive squeeze. “Lando, you’re so much more than that. Yes, I love space. But racing is your passion and you’re incredible at it. You bring joy to so many people. That matters.”

‘I know, but …” Lando trails off uncertainly.

You lean forward, gently tipping his chin up. “No buts. You deserve the world. I’m the lucky one here.”

He finally meets your eyes. “Really?” The doubt is clear on his face.

“Really,” you confirm. “I fell for you, Lando. Not your job or your fame. Your kindness, your humor, your giant heart … that’s what I love.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “When you put it like that …”

“It’s the truth,” you say firmly.

Lando lets out a long breath, his shoulders dropping as the tension eases. “I’ve been in my own head about this for weeks. Should have just talked to you sooner.”

“Well, you have me now,” you remind him. “No more keeping worries bottled up, deal?”

“Deal,” he agrees, lifting your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how amazing you are?”

You laugh. “It’s always nice to hear.” Your heart swells with happiness to see the sparkle back in his eyes.

Just then your food arrives, and Lando insists you try a bite of his pasta. The conversation flows easily again as you trade stories and banter. With the worry lifted from his shoulders, Lando’s charm and humor are on full display. By the time you meander hand in hand back to the hotel, the moon is high in the sky.

Lando pauses outside your door. “Thank you for tonight. And just … for everything. You’re my whole world.”

“I love you to the moon and back.” You gaze at him adoringly for a moment before adding, “Now, I believe a celebration is in order for that podium today …”

You open the door and pull him inside by his collar as he laughs. As you kiss him deeply, you make a silent promise to always be the safe space he can turn to when doubts creep in.

You’re the luckiest girl in the world to be loved by this incredible man. And you plan to spend every day proving he’s worthy of the same boundless love … to the moon and back.

***

You take a deep breath as you stare out the small window of the shuttle, watching the Earth get smaller and smaller as you ascend into the sky.

This is it. Your first mission to the moon.

You’ve dreamed of this moment since you were a little girl, gazing up at the glowing orb in the night sky and imagining yourself walking across its cratered surface.

As an astronaut with NASA, you’ve completed years of intense training to prepare yourself mentally and physically for the rigors of space travel. But nothing can fully ready you for the surge of emotions that hits you now as your childhood fantasy becomes reality.

Excitement.

Awe.

A twinge of nervousness.

And above all, gratitude. Gratitude for the opportunity to push the boundaries of human exploration. To boldly go where only a handful of people have gone before.

You think of Lando. How his eyes lit up when you got the call informing you that you had been selected for this mission. How he immediately started planning a big celebratory dinner, inviting all your friends and family. How he held you tight before you left for quarantine and launch preparations, whispering “I’m so proud of you” and “I love you to the moon and back.”

Your relationship with Lando has always been anchored in mutual love, trust and encouragement. As a Formula 1 driver, he understands the demands and dangers of your job, the laser focus it requires. When he races, you’re trackside or glued to the TV, cheering him on. When it’s your turn to take the spotlight, he’s equally in your corner, hyping you up and telling anyone who’ll listen that his girl is an astronaut headed to space.

You chuckle thinking back to when you first met Lando at an Engineering for the Next Generation event. Him in his McLaren gear, standing out like a beacon in bright papaya. You in your crisp blue flight suit, NASA insignia shining. Sparks didn’t just fly, they erupted into fireworks.

Fast forward five years and here you both are, thriving in your dream careers, happily together and each other’s biggest fans.

Your daydreaming is interrupted by the voice of the commander crackling over your headset. “Prepare for trans-lunar injection burn.”

It’s time.

You watch attentively as the burn commences, adjusting the shuttle’s trajectory until you’ve escaped Earth’s gravity and are hurtling towards the moon.

The next few days pass in a blur of course corrections, equipment checks, meals, sleep, and anticipation. Then finally, the moment arrives. You feel the shuttle tremble as the engines fire, slowing you down until you achieve lunar orbit insertion.

For the first time, you’re gazing upon the entirety of the moon’s pockmarked surface rather than just a slice of it in the night sky. It’s simultaneously familiar and foreign, a world both near and far.

“We are go for powered descent,” comes the voice of Mission Control. The shuttle shudders as the lander separates, ferrying you and your crewmates down to the awaiting surface. Through the window you watch the grey, dusty terrain rise up to meet you. A perfect landing kicks up plumes of powder.

You’ve arrived.

Stepping outside in your bulky space suit, you marvel at the stark beauty surrounding you. The pitch black sky, dotted more vividly with blazing stars than you could have ever imagined. The rolling plains and hills in muted grays. The unfiltered rays of the sun overhead. And above all, the profoundly silence, unlike anything you’ve experienced on noisy Earth.

You bend down and scoop up some lunar soil, letting it sift through your gloved fingers.

The next two days pass swiftly, filled with collecting samples, setting up experiments, and traversing the alien landscape. Too soon, it’s time to depart. As the shuttle lifts off in a spray of dust, you take one last look at the moon’s cratered face, etching it into your memory.

Returning to Earth, you’re met with great fanfare. Lando wraps you in an enormous bear hug, his relief and elation at having you home safe and sound is infectious. “I’ve missed you so much! Can’t wait to hear all about it,” he holds you tight and refuses to let go.

At the dinner he’s arranged, surrounded by your closest friends and family, you regale everyone with stories about your lunar experience.

Walking in spaces so silent your own heartbeat sounded thunderous. The inexplicable lightness in your limbs from the reduced gravity. Seeing Earth hover above the horizon, a blue and white marble in the void. The sense of wonder at walking upon a heavenly sphere humans have gazed upon for millennia but few have ever touched.

“I’ve always loved you to the moon and back,” you tell Lando, taking his hand. “Now I can say I’ve literally loved you to the moon and back.”

You see his eyes widen as you pull out a small pouch and tip glittering gray dust into his palm — a moon rock. “A little piece of the moon, just for you,” you close his fingers around it.

Lando is momentarily speechless, touched beyond words by your gesture. Then a grin spreads across his face. “You are simply out of this world,” he laughs. “This is going in my trophy case for sure!”

Over the next year, Lando has the moon rock fashioned into a ring, which he wears on race days for good luck. Sure enough, he scores his first ever victory that season, a thrilling achievement after years of near misses and podium finishes.

Standing on top of the podium, Lando whoops and thrusts his trophy high. Then he gazes straight into your eyes and says words meant only for you. “This one’s for the person who has always loved me to the moon and back.”

You beam with joy, pride surging through you. In that moment, all the years of supporting each other through the highs and lows to follow your passions feel profoundly worth it. Because at the end of the day, whether it’s launching into space or racing on Earth, you’re always each other’s biggest fans, connected by a love deeper than any distance — even 768,800 kilometers to the moon and back.

[archaicden]

HOW MANY WISHES?

THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN 🫶

[multifandomgirl08]

Caught [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader (Established Relationship), Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader x Lando Norris (Platonic)

Summary: Lando swears he knocked before walking into Max's hotel room, maybe he should have yelled before opening the door.

Warning(s): 18+ Implied sexual content, accidental?? voyeurism (Lando)

A/N: Little deviation from the normal chapter for this series as there is no Nico. This is an out-take that I just couldn’t hold onto any longer. It does have a bit of adult content, and although this series didn't have any before it was fun to work out of my comfort zone for this while helping me cure my writer's block.

This is a scene I reference in the third social media post in Through Max's Eyes. You get to finally read what happened in Barcelona 2023 with Lando, Max, and the reader.

Words: 2k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

Lando

After the disappointing race today Lando needed to get out of his head a bit. He had suggested to a few of the drivers about going out to a club to get drinks and blow off some steam.

He heard back from almost everyone except Max, he wasn't replying in the grid group chat. He knew that Max was probably on the phone with Y/N or talking to his son Nico after the race.

He didn't really understand how Max could manage his son, girlfriend, and career all at once.

He had asked Daniel which was Max's room number at the hotel they were all staying at. Daniel had texted him back, 331.

Lando was making his way down the hallway as the numbers kept going up.

300 - 320, on one sign 321 - 340 on another.

He followed the hallway down until he got to 330. Then on the opposite side was 331, the door was cracked open a bit, maybe Max forgot to close it all the way when he had come up after the race.

He knocked, waiting a moment, and knocked again a little louder but heard nothing back. Maybe Max was playing FIFA or had headphones on and wasn't paying attention to the door.

Lando pushed the hotel door open to walk into the room.

"Max?" He asked, his eyes scanning the room before he heard a breathy moan come from behind the open set of double doors.

This should have been Lando's cue to leave Max's hotel room and make sure to close the door behind him. But his feet pushed him on towards the sound. Maybe Max was watching a movie or something, or on the phone with Y/N. There were lots of possibilities.

He walked closer before his eyes met the empty bed. It was as if his ears had finally picked up on the sounds in the room. There was the sound of someone moaning again.

His eyes fell to the floor, shoes discarded, navy team polo by the chair in the corner, a pile of black fabric kicked off to the side.

Lando's eyes started their ascension at the carpeted floor, scanning upwards. Black high heels and bare feet, large hands reached down to pick the girl up, before she settled her legs around the guy's waist. He could barely make out that this guy had his jeans undone. A black bra strap fell off her shoulder and started to expose her to him.

"Zo goed voor mij." He heard in Max's voice but deeper in tone. It was barely above a whisper hearing the guy tell her how good she was for him.

"Max," Lando's ears had never heard you sound like this before. Yearning, desperate. He saw what he knew were your hands moving up a broad back before a hand dropped to the band of blue denim jeans trying to push them down.

“Zo wanhopig voor mij.” There was the voice again, his understanding of Dutch catching up with him again calling her desperate, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know for what.

Being in the room watching made sights and sounds seem like two different things that blended into one another.

His eyes eventually followed a delicate hand up to short brown hair, seeing a stubble-peppered cheek drop out of his view. Causing the woman to move to the right, covering both of their faces from his view. As the man pulled away from the woman Lando met the eyes of Max as if it fully dawned on him who he had been watching.

His eyes jumped up the wall and then back, to see Max standing there in jeans, and Y/N, against the wall in nothing but heels, and her underwear with her bra straps falling down her shoulders.

"Lando?" He heard from Max, their eyes meeting for a millisecond, blue on hazel.

Lando bolted out of there, leaving his question and the ability to look Y/N in the eyes behind him. He pulled the handle of the door along with him, the loud bang made his ears ring for a few moments.

Lando rushed down the corridor, room after room not paying attention to where he was walking.

“Hello Lando,” He heard from Pierre and saw him standing there with Daniel.

“Lando,” Daniel said, “You okay mate?”

Lando just shook his head no, looking down at the horrible pattern on the carpeted floor. He couldn’t tell Daniel or Pierre what he had walked into, they would never let him live it down.

“It can not be that bad.” He heard from Pierre.

“It’s pretty bad.” He moved to lean against the wall, knocking his head into it.

“Come on, Lando.” Daniel started to say, pulling him away from the wall.

“Okay, but you have to swear you won’t tell anyone else, not Charles,” He said to Pierre, “And not to Martin.” Lando pointed at Daniel. He knew that Max was close friends with Martin and he didn’t want Martin to know that he had walked in on Max sleeping with Y/N. He didn’t think he could deal with the teasing.

They both nodded back at him. Yeah right.

“Have either of you ever walked in on your parents… you know…” He kept trailing off. He couldn’t say going at it. It felt wrong.

Pierre looked at him for a moment, and Daniel said nothing before Lando saw the recognition fill both of their faces.

“Oh, Lando did you walk in on your parents growing up or something?” Pierre teased at him.

“No!” He objected. “Not my parents…” He took his time getting the words out.

Time to break down the story in full detail.

“I went to see if Max wanted to go get drinks at the club after the race. I walked to his room to see if he was going to go, and the door was open a bit. I knocked, but no one answered, so I went in. I saw…” He trailed off. “I saw Max and Y/N going at it.”

“Lando, Y/N isn’t here. Isn’t she in England for some work conference or something?” Daniel said. He moved to pull out his phone as if he was going to text Max and ask.

Lando reached for it to stop him.

“It was Y/N, I swear it was.” This whole thing just rubbed Lando the wrong way. Max was his friend, and Y/N was Max’s girlfriend. Lando knew that Max had sex before given that he had a kid, he just never thought he would see Max actually about to do it for himself one day.

“It’s fine, we believe you, that it was Y/N.”

“Lando.” He heard coming from down the hall. There stood Max in dark wash jeans, and a white button-up shirt, and holding his hand was Y/N in a black dress that cut off at her thighs.

Shit! Eyes to the floor, eyes to the fucking floor man.

“Lando,” He heard from Y/N. Her voice was almost motherly in tone. It just made an uncomfortable shiver run down his spine.

“I’m sorry,” He blurted out, hanging his head. “I didn’t mean to see. It was an accident, I swear.”

He couldn’t look at either of them. Sure Max was only older than him by two years, and Y/N was right around the same age as far as he could guess, not that he actually knew how old she was.

“It’s fine Lando, I’m sure you didn’t mean to see me and Max-” Y/N started to say.

“Going at it like rabbits,” Daniel interjected behind them.

“What are you talking about Daniel? We still had clothes on.” Max stated. Lando knew that was half a lie. Max had clothes on, and Y/N was pretty close to having nothing on. Lando couldn’t help but think back for a moment to the image that flashed across his mind, it was oddly erotic and would have been hot if he didn’t think of Y/N as a type of mother figure in his life.

“You can’t detail a car with the cover on,” Daniel quotes to the group. Lando looked up just slightly, enough to see Pierre who looked confused. 

“What do you mean, can’t detail a car?” Max asked. “I was kissing my girlfriend, Daniel, I wasn’t thinking about a car.”

“Really? The first Fast and the Furious movie. I’m disappointed in all of you.” Lando could see the happy expression fall from Daniel’s face. If it were any other time, and anything else was going on Lando would have remembered what Daniel was quoting, but as of right now he was a little too mortified to do so.

“Whatever,” Lando said, turning to Max and Y/N but didn’t make an effort to meet their eyes. “I’m sorry I walked in without making myself known. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s fine Lando,” Y/N said to him. “I’ll just make sure the next time I try to surprise Max, I’ll tell someone first.”

“I like your surprises,” Max said, giving her a wide, eye-crinkling smile. He pulled her into him, and Lando dropped his eyes to the floor once again. Too soon.

“So… Drinks? Bar?” Daniel asked. Pierre nodded, and Lando followed quickly after. Max and Y/N however said nothing. The sounds of kissing quickly became audible to his ears.

“Max, mate.” Daniel started to say. “Maybe keep the necking in public to a min. We’ve got young eyes here.” Lando could feel Daniel’s hand on his shoulder after he said that. He knew that Daniel was just teasing him a bit, but he still didn’t like it.

“I’m not that young.” He fired back at Daniel.

“Uh yeah, you are, if you caught these two about to go at it and ran away.” Lando couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He was never going to be able to live this down, was he?

“Have you?” Pierre asked as they walked down the hall towards the elevators leaving the couple behind.

“Have I what?” Daniel asked. Lando barely looked up to see Max and Y/N walking further down the hall with a short wave given to all of them.

“Caught them, about to…” Lando trailed off again, he still couldn’t say it.

“Let’s just put it this way, when they want a date night. I’m the first person that they call.” Sometimes Lando forgot how close Max and Daniel were. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my godson but sometimes Max needs to learn to call in advance instead of the day of.”

“So, you haven’t caught them then?” Lando couldn’t help but ask. Them wanting date night together was one thing, but that wasn’t what Pierre had asked.

“No, I have.” It almost sounded like there was a bit of mischief in Daniel’s voice. “Trust me mate, you were lucky that you walked in when you did because if it was after that, you would have been scarred for life.”

Lando widened his eyes at that. So, Daniel was keeping all of the truly gory details to himself. He knew more, so much more, and maybe he promised Max that he wouldn’t tell anyone what they truly got up to in their spare time.

“Was Max running his mouth?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, back to Daniel.

“Like praising her, in Dutch?” He couldn’t help but nod at Daniel’s question. He was a little curious if he could get more information out of him.

“A bit.” He choked out.

“Good on ya, that you didn’t stick around.” Daniel slapped the back of Lando’s shoulder. “Come on, once we’re down at the bar, I’ll get you a drink. You need it after all you’ve gone through today.”

Lando tried not to think further about what he just heard. Obviously at some point in time Daniel had walked in on Max and Y/N and had a very different reaction then him.

He followed Daniel and Pierre down to the bar, letting Daniel order him something strong that would hopefully make the last 6 hours or so disappear, at least for a while.

Translation(s):

Zo goed voor mij. - So good for me.

Zo wanhopig voor mij. - So desperate for more.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore

[fleurre]

HIS HOME ✦ 𝑓. 양정원

in which ⸝⸝ you are his home, his comfort

jungwon x gn!r >ᴗ< pure fluff, est rel .. cw a kiss ✶ 320 ’𝓈 : a short wonie fic cos of writers block TT hybe better give them a break DAILY !

jungwon trudged mindlessly through the empty airport, the hood of his jacket pulled up. 

he was so tired he could almost physically feel his body shutting down, weighed down by the ever increasing fatigue spreading throughout his body.

it was your voice calling out his name that pulled him out of this trance. 

jungwon could recognise your voice anywhere.

his ears perked up immediately at the familiar sound, eyes scanning his surroundings frantically.

he never thought that the simple act of seeing another person could bring him so much joy, and yet here he was, a stupidly giddy smile spread across his face when he finally spotted you. 

“wonie!” you yelled out again.

jungwon felt his heart soar with happiness as he watched you run towards him with an excited smile, arms spread wide until you collided into him. 

the moment his arms wrapped around you, he felt his exhaustion melt away instantly. nuzzling his forehead into the crook of your neck, he mumbled soft whispers of love, hands gripping onto you so tightly as if he was afraid you’d disappear.    

you almost had to pry yourself away from him, to which he looked up at you with a dejected pout, making you chuckle softly.

he thought he must be half delirious, because his sulkiness disappeared almost instantly when you laughed. his heart warmed at the sound, his eyes watching you in wonder, the corners of your eyes crinkling up in a cute way that he had missed so much.

he relaxed into your soft touch, letting you gently cup his cheeks and plant a light kiss on his forehead.

for the first time after the long hours of the seemingly endless flight, he finally felt at peace. his hands reached for your face, returning the affection with a soft, yearning kiss. 

and when he could feel nothing other than your comforting presence, he knew he was finally home.

[sweetbans29]

Bowling - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Date night with Caitlin - headcanon (based on THIS request)

Warnings: nothing, fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I am a huge fan of bowling. Am I good? No. I used to go weekly with friends and had gotten progressively worse.

You told Caitlin you wanted to go out for a date night but wanted to do something normal. Caitlin, of course, was completely on board and said she loves normal. You laughed at her and know the two of you have a different idea of normal. Your idea of normal was going out and having a fun night with your girl - maybe some sort of activity like bowling or an escape room. On the other side of that, your girlfriend is the single most competitive person you know. Sometimes not to her advantage. She hates to lose. And you don't blame her but she takes it to a whole other level. You thought it would be different with you, but you were very wrong.

"Okay, you owe...$320," you say and you hear her puff. "No way in hell do I owe that much," she says as her blood begins to boil. "Do you think I am lying?" You say with a laugh, you pass her the property card and point out the hotel cost. "I own this property and it had a hotel on it, therefore it is $320. Pay up, babe!" She reluctantly hands you the fake money and she rolls the dice again, landing on doubles again. She moves her piece the number of spaces and lets out another angry groan when she lands on another spot of yours. You tell how much she owes you but she refuses. "If you refuse - that means you forfeit and therefore lose," you tell her and she gets up. "This is stupid," she says and walks away from the table. "Hey, you are the one that chose the game - I am just playing it with you. It is not my fault that you don't know how to play Monopoly," you call out to her. She mutters a string of profanities and waves you off. You packed up the game and went to find your girl. She was lying in bed with a replay of a game on the TV. You come over and poke at her leg. She moves it away from you. "Babe, come on," you say and sit facing her. She doesn't say anything and keeps her attention on the game. Sighing, you move to sit next to her and try to cuddle into her side. She doesn't initially move as you wrap your arm around her waist and put your head on her shoulder. It was only when you began to fall asleep that you felt Caitlin's arm shift, bringing you to her side and rub your back. You know she isn't mad at you and you learned how her drive to win wasn't only on the court - it was in all areas of life.

You knew when you told Caitlin that you wanted to go out and do something that it would have to be something that she was decent at. So when you suggested either bowling or an escape room, she chose bowling.

It was a Thursday night and the two of you had just gotten to the bowling alley. You both got your shoes and headed to your lane, grabbing your choice of ball on the way.

You finish putting your shoes on and look over at your girl. "Ready love?" You ask and give her a hug. She kisses the top of your head. "You'll still love me regardless of how this game goes, right?" You ask in a joking manner. "Mmmhmm," she responds but you are not satisfied with her answer. You pull away and look at her. "Caitlin, you will love me regardless of who wins, correct?" You are looking her dead in the eye now as you wait for her response. "Of course, babe. Of course," she says as she leans down to give you a kiss. You turn your head so she kisses your cheek instead of you lips. "Good, because you are going down." You say sweetly and begin your turn.

The two of you took every frame like it was the championship game. You had made your tone clear that this wasn't going to be a friendly game but rather a full-blown competition - completely abandoning your initial stance of a 'normal' date. You knew that any time the two of you did something competitive it would never be normal. The game is neck and neck.

You step up, ball in hand. It is the last frame and Caitlin is up by 13. She got a spare in the final frame putting her comfortably in the lead. You would need to do the same to put yourself within winning distance. "Don't mess up," your girlfriend says in a teasing tone. You know she is nervous when she tries to get in your head. You take a deep breath and bowl. You get a strike. A smile dawning your face before as you walk to grab another ball to finish the game off. You finish off the frame, beating Caitlin by 4. You walk over to shake her hand but she just sits there with her arms crossed. "Babe, you did good - that was the best game either of us have bowled." You tell her as you squat in front of her, putting your hands on her crossed arms. She rolls her eyes and lets out a cute little huff. "Come on - there is still time for you to beat me in the arcade," you say and she stands. She begins walking to the arcade area but not before grabbing your hand to make sure you are with her.

Before you get too far you bring her back to change your shoes out. She was so focused on going to the arcade that she forgot she was still wearing her bowling shoes.

Once you both return the shoes, Caitlin and you walk hand in hand to the arcade games. As focused as she is on winning - she makes sure you are next to her.

You follow her around and play all the games that Caitlin wants. You don't take it easy on her but you do let her take the lead every now and again. You love winning but you love your girl more.

She ends up winning more tickets than you and is happy with her win. The two of you head over to the prize counter and she chooses a Nerf basketball while you choose candy and a little plastic dino.

When the two of you get home, you lounge on the couch. She turns on some game highlights and you curl up next to her. "I love you, but we should never do anything that involves a winner and a loser for a date ever again," you say. She lets out a little laugh and rubs your shoulder. "I think we can - we just need it to be on a group date and we need to be on the same team," she says and kisses the top of your head. "Ooo I like the way you think, I can call Lexi and her boyfriend - maybe we can go on a double date next weekend," you say scrolling through your phone. Caitlin laughs and brings you closer to her. "Whatever you want, babe," Caitlin says.

AN: I can't imagine Caitlin not being competitive but let me know what you think. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[grillthegridmydear]

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　The Good Witch　:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

pairing. F1 Grid x Leclerc!reader, Ollie Bearman x Leclerc!reader

summary ~ The baby of the Leclerc family experiences the worst heartbreak of her life while living in London, so she writes an album.

faceclaim ~ Maisie Peters

notes ~ This album has been my roman empire since it dropped and I am making it everyone else's problem now. My school level french is no use to me here so please pardon any terrible translations.

yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, arthur_leclerc and 12 621 others.

yourusername London I love you, you'd have to drag me away kicking and screaming <3

view all comments!

arthur_leclerc still cant believe you moved out before I did

yourusername cry about it I guess

user1 begging for the next ep drop on my hands and knees

charles_leclerc would it kill you to come home every once and a while?

yourusername voir maman ou Lorenzo? non. Pour te voir TOI ? oui, oui, ce serait le cas. (to see mom or Lorenzo, no. To see YOU? yes, yes it would) liked by lorenzotl

alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous as usual ❤️

yourusername Je t'aime belle fille ❤️❤️❤️ (love you beautiful girl)

yourusername Let me know when you finally get rid of my idiot brother, I wanna get a custom cake

charles_leclerc QU'EST-CE QUE J'AI FAIT ??? (WHAT DID I DO?)

yourbfusername my london girl ❤️

loved by yourusername

yourbff girl you're never allowed to leave you have witnessed too much that involves tequila

yourusername blackmail for life

user4 baby leclerc literally eating up the streets

user5 i need to see her in paddock again soon ITS BEEN TOO LONG

302studio

gridgossip

gridgossip singer-songwriter y/n leclerc has blacked out all her social media pages and made them private, this comes following the abrupt news that the ferrari drivers sister cancelled the rest of her european tour dates. sources say that she has blocked her long time boyfriend yourbfusername. could the couple's split be the reason for the radio silence?

liked by user11 and 320 612 others.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

f1gossip

f1gossip Heartbreak for baby Leclerc as photos of her long time boyfriend yourbfusername were released earlier this week outside of a popular london nightclub kissing another girl. y/n was spotted leaving Nice Côte d'Azur Airport with her brother Charles Leclerc late last night. The 21 year old pop star seemingly escaping her ex boyfriend and guitarist to return to Monaco.

view all comments!

user10 ok this is why we dont give men rights cause WTF

user11 poor y/n, i cant believe it

user12 not what i was expecting

user13 THIS MANS DAYS ARE NUMBERD

loved by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 864 others.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

It took 3 days to finally pull myself out of the pit of my childhood room. The sun bleeding through the crevices of the blinds screaming to be opened for some fresh air. coming back to Monaco felt like defeat but I knew that staying in London would kill me, plus the hushed whispers coming from downstairs reminded me that this was the best thing I could do, my brothers were dramatic enough without deciding to go on strike from racing until I finally agreed to come back.

Small snuffles under the door broke the serene atmosphere in the air, followed by tiny nails scratching to get in. finally pulling myself out from under the covers I cracked open my door enough to let a tiny four legged blonde into my cave, Leo weaved his way between my legs, herding me closer to the door. his persistence finally made me scoop him into my arms and make my way downstairs.

The already whispered conversation died as I took the last few steps into the living room. Four heads turned on a swivel to see me enter the living room. Maman sitting on the sofa with Arthur and Alex, Charles sitting at the piano in the corner of the room. "Bébé ? tu veux manger quelque chose ? nous étions sur le point de préparer le déjeuner." (baby? do you want to eat something? we were about to make some lunch.)

the idea of food made my stomach lurch, I skipped dinner last night in favour of crying into my sheets. Heartbreak had always seemed so stupid when I was young. How could girls spend all their energy loving someone who hurt them? I owe all those girls an apology. I could only nod as I set Leo down on the floor, he trotted over to Alex and with my arms free from the wriggling pup I sat down on the piano stool next to my brother. the guilt over cancelling my tour had been eating my alive for the last week, so many people would be so disappointed. I hadn't even entertained the idea of opening my phone since I landed, but Arthur had reassured me through the door that people were just worried about me, whether I was ok?

I had no idea if I was.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 101 892 others.

yourusername drastic healing measures activated. thank you all for being so patient with me, here's a little treat. Blonde is streaming now!

view all comments!

maxverstappen1 funeral anthem

yourusername nurse! he's out again!!

user16 no cause max is so real for this, this man has a bounty on his head

alex_albon lily hasnt stopped playing it since it dropped. neither has logan.

yourusername i knew you were my number one fan logansargeant

logansargeant its going platinum in my house

user15 AHHHH THE GRID IN THE COMMENTS!

user16 i love their friendships so much

lilymhe WHAT A GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRL

yourusername wifey 💍💍💍

alex_albon today is not the day and i am not the one 🤺🤺🤺

alexandrasaintmleux face card is never denied!

loved by yourusername

user27 oscar in the likes 👀👀👀

user21 girl EVERYONE is in the likes

oscarpiastri where was this energy for cates brother?

yourusername tbf Hattie ATE in her cover so its not my song anymore

arthur_leclerc i think maman is still weeping that you went that light with the bleach

charles_leclerc

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, arthur_leclerc and 13 253 others.

charles_leclerc I remember the day you were born and you cried so much we couldn't hear ourselves think. you demanded to be heard and since that day you have had music in your soul. it has been an honour and a privilege to watch you grow into the woman you are today. happy birthday ange, thanks for letting your big brother watch you make an album.

view all comments!

user21 ALBUM!?! SAY SIKE RN

user22 part time driver, full time stan

user23 can we blame him though?

user24 happy birthday!!! now back to the ALBUM ANNOUNCEMENT!!

user25 EVERYBODY STAY CALM

user26 not charles leaking the album announcement 😂😂

yourusername thanks cha! DID YOU JUST LEAK MY ALBUM!

yourusername

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 468 648 others.

yourusername ok since SOMEBODY couldn't keep a secret for 3 seconds 😠 my father always taught me that boys weren't worth the energy and to hit them back twice as hard. so here I am papa, making you proud.

The Good Witch is now streaming on all platforms!

view all comments!

carlossainz55 spoken like royalty princesa, congratulations!

yourusername gracias chilli !

charles_leclerc je t’aime ange, sorry again.

yourusername i might forgive you

landonorris album of the year i'm afraid

yourusername how tragic 😱

oscarpiastri y/n please Hattie wont stop playing it, im begging you take the album back

yourusername you are the worst piastri

user 15 eating this up

user36 GIRL THIS WAS AN ATTACK! WENDY!!! NO BODY TALK TO ME!

user39 this may go down in history as the cuntiest slay of all time

user40 OH SHIT, HE LOST THE BREAKUP

loved by olliebearman

user40 ARIANNA? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??

yourusername

liked by landonorris, olliebearman and 792 721 others.

yourusername are you gonna feel the way I feel? are you for real?

comments are limited on this post

olliebearman

liked by georgerussell63, arthur_leclerc and 87 621 others.

olliebearman this is in fact a john hughes movie and the girl does in fact get the guy ❤❤

tagged yourusername

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Hey yall! just something a little short and sweet to get back into the swing of things.

i do want to eventually do a series based on this album for the grid cause i am obsessed.

let me know what you think

-A

[harrystylescherry]

A/N: wow, what amazing timing. let's pretend i did this on purpose. happy birthday, harry! fyi, this is vol. 2--you don't have to, but i rec reading vol. 1 first :)

*warning: spanking/paddling, mild pain, orgasm denial

what this is: pure smut tbh - vol. 2

word count: 5.5k

let me know what you think :)

MASTERLIST

It had been three agonizing days–three and a half if you were going to count this morning…and you were, because the ache between your legs and the need thrumming at your core was the only thing you could think about. 

Your boyfriend was punishing you in the worst way: orgasm denial. He’d work you and edge you until you were just on the brink of release, one…two…three times…then release you from the restraints, or pull you up from his lap, and go about his business. As if you weren’t a puddle of need, dripping between your thighs, angry and wanton and sorry. 

Because that was the whole point of this–for you to be sorry. To show you not to misbehave, or shirk direct orders. 

In your eyes, it was a minor infraction. He had left on a business trip for five days, and told you, explicitly, not to touch yourself, not for a teasing second, not to come. Then, he made sure to clarify that none of the sex toys at his place or yours were to be used either, knowing how much you loved a loophole. The two of you had been together for just over a year now, and you had taught him well to be specific and exact with his instructions. On more than one occasion, he’d tell you that you should’ve been a lawyer–a comment that was as much of a compliment as it was a chastising for being bratty and pushing his limits. 

The instruction was a punishment in itself, though he’d never admit to it. He wanted you to go with him, so between the stressful meetings and boring client calls, he could have moments of peace. He wanted to show you around a new city (though he’d only ever been there once before himself), discover hole in the wall eateries and dive bars together, fuck you in places not exactly meant for fucking, and, of course, have you on his arm for all the client dinners and drink-night-schmoozing he was expected to do. Unfortunately for him, you were only three months into your new job as an assistant editor/junior staff writer for The Wire, an indie music magazine based in London that mostly focused on independent artists and underground scenes. Were you cool enough for the job? Probably not, but you were open to anything and everything–your 134 very specific spotify playlists proof that you didn’t discriminate. 

The job was a lot of work, and you were busting your ass to prove to the close-knit team that ran it that you were worth keeping around. Your ninety-days of entry-probation had just ended. Taking time off wasn’t a good look (not that you had even racked up enough hours to take off an entire work week), and while working from home wasn’t off the table, you didn’t want it to seem like you didn’t want to be there. On the ground, toiling away at your tiny desk with the other two assistants and three interns. It was fun. You loved Harry, but your priorities right now were what they were. He understood it, though that didn’t mean he had to like it. And clearly, he didn’t, as evidenced by his very unfair and petty instruction. 

You had done well the first three days, despite the teasing texts and naughty photos meant to bait you–which is why you’d been so strong. He wasn’t going to trick you into breaking a rule. 

Day four was what broke you. You hadn’t heard from him all day (which only made you want the teasing and photos now that they were being withheld), you had stupidly started an erotic romance novel that was essentially 320 pages of pure (ungodly and delicious) fucking, and you were so stressed out from work that your body was begging for a release beyond what your favorite workout could give. 

You were just a girl. A horny, needy, sexually frustrated girl. It’s not your fault that the desperation was too strong for you to deny the call of the clit sucker you kept buried in your underwear drawer. It was society’s. 

In the moment, the rationalizing was totally sound. And in the moment, the orgasm was worth it. 

Then, Harry’s facetime came through only a few minutes after you’d come down, as if he had some sort of sixth sense when it came to your orgasms. 

“Hi,” you said after checking to make sure your hair was fine and the toy was safely tossed beneath your bed. 

His brow furrowed on the screen. “Hi, baby.”

“How’s your trip?” You settled into the pillows behind you. 

“Good,” he mumbled. His lips twitched. “Did you touch yourself today?”

“W-what?”

“You did, didn’t you?” His eyes narrowed. “When? Just now?”

You scoffed. “Harry, come on. Of course not. You said–”

“I know what I said. And I know that you didn’t listen.” His voice was stern and it sent a jolt to your core. 

“That’s–”

“Don’t lie to me. I know what you look like after–and it’s all over your face.”

Your cheeks flamed. You were caught. 

“It’s not my fault!”

You could see he was fighting off a smile–a devilish one. “Whose fault is it then?”

“I…” You didn’t really have an answer. 

“That’s what I thought.” You watched his jaw tick through the screen. “I’ll be home tomorrow night. I expect you to already be there when I do. Now, get cleaned up and go to bed.”

He ended the call before you could respond. No ‘goodnight’ or ‘I love you’. You were screwed…and not in the way you would’ve liked. So, feeling a little guilty, you moved into the bathroom, took a shower, and climbed beneath your covers at 9pm. 

The night he got home, he restrained you to the bed without a word. Flat on your back, with your limbs pulled to each respective corner of the bed, he teased your nipples with a paint brush, then your clit, until you were a squirming, writhing mess. Then it was over. He brushed a hand over your cheek and went to take a shower. 

Each night since, the edging had progressively gotten worse. 

You were aroused constantly. Getting through each work day felt like an impossible feat. All you could think about was the nights before–the pleasure in all the teasing–and then the pain in going without any relief. Unfortunately, that only made you wetter. 

You were a zombie through your morning meetings. You nodded when you were supposed to and took down notes just so you didn’t completely check out. You’d been staring at the commissioned article in front of you for almost forty-five minutes, not an edit made because you couldn’t tear your focus from the steady throb between your legs, when a text from Harry came through. 

Same time tonight. 

That’s all it said, though it didn’t need to say anything else. A shiver moved through you. Another night of torture. You held in the groan of frustration (with maybe a bit of anticipation), hoped that your punishment would be over tonight and white-knuckled through the rest of your day. 

You knocked on Harry’s door at exactly 8pm. No dinner together was part of the punishment, and so was not being able to use your key. Those were always part of the punishments, though, and served to remind you of your place in this area of your relationship–that you were not in control, could only come and go as much as he wanted you to, and all the other things that you already knew…and that you sometimes needed reminding of. 

When were you going to learn that being rebellious was fun until it wasn’t (though, punishments could still be kind of fun–not that you would ever tell Harry that)? 

It was a rhetorical question, since you had never exactly been one to submit without a fight.

“Little brat,” he said when he opened the door. “Straight to my room. Take your clothes off in the hall.”

No kiss hello, no smile, no sweetness–just like the last three nights. Maybe the punishments weren’t always fun. Your eyes went to the floor in shame as you went past him and up the stairs. He followed behind you, his footfalls even and sure. He leaned against the wall with his arms over his chest as you pushed your jeans to the floor and peeled off your t-shirt. 

When you went to move into the room, Harry tsked in disapproval. “You know better than that. Don’t make this worse for yourself, sub.”

Your entire body lit up with embarrassment. It was a mistake. You were nervous and anxious to get it over with, not thinking. You knew you weren’t getting a release tonight, could see it in his face, hear it in his voice. Your hands shook as you unclasped your bra, letting it drop to the floor, followed by your panties. 

“In the room, hands against the wall.”

You took a shaky breath and did exactly as he said. 

The thin paddle pressed against your bare ass when he came up behind you and your body clenched. You weren’t exactly a fan. He slid it down the back of your thighs and gave your skin a light tap. 

“Legs apart.” You obeyed and he hummed. “Keep your arms and legs straight, and eyes up.” You took a deep breath in preparation. The paddle came down on your ass and you flinched. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

“N-no, sir.”

“So, you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Whack.

There was no warning or warm-up. He took turns with each cheek, hitting hard and then easing up, so you never knew what to prepare for. At least he didn’t make you count them, not that you thought you could. You were too focused on not letting your knees buckle, fighting not to lean against the wall. 

It went on like that for a while, until the searing burn turned into the kind of sharp numbing that left you dripping. 

After what had to be at least twenty strikes, he dipped his hand between your thighs. Like always, shame slithered in; the embarrassment that all of this turned you on. It disappeared, like it always did, the second Harry made his sound of approval. That little hum that told you he was pleased, even though he wouldn’t vocalize it the way you wanted him too. It was a punishment, after all. 

He brushed his knuckles over your clit and you almost crumpled to the floor. You were so turned on, so needy, that the slightest touch was a straight shot to your core–electric. Two flicks of his fingers and you knew you’d come, which meant even more trouble. 

He touched you again and you hissed. 

“You don’t come. Not until I say.” As if you needed the reminder. 

“Yes…sir.” He chuckled at the breathiness of your voice. It was mean–and hot. He knew it, too. 

The paddle against your skin again, then his fingers moving through your slit. “Such a dirty girl,” he whispered. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to think about anything else besides the pleasure strumming at your core. His fingers were too skilled, they knew your body too well. 

Your left knee buckled–for less than a second–but he caught it. Goosebumps raised across your skin when you heard the three tsks from behind you. 

“I–”

“Shh…” 

You pressed your lips together, forcing the plea back down your throat. 

“On the bed.”

Silently, and with your head down, you walked on shaky legs to sit at its edge. Harry pushed your chest back so you laid down. 

“Don’t move.”

He walked to the wardrobe and pulled out the spreader bar. He strapped in each of your ankles so you couldn’t close your legs and then moved it up, so your knees were bent into your chest. Your breath was ragged and you fought to keep any whimpers from slipping out when he secured your wrists in the cuffs attached to the center of the bar. 

You couldn’t stretch your legs, couldn’t close them–couldn’t move. Completely open to him, you were in the perfect position for him to do whatever he wanted. 

He hummed as he moved back to the wardrobe, opening and closing drawers. He seemed to be making a decision. When he turned back to you, there was a smirk on his face. You took a deep breath when you saw the pink device in his hands. 

He pushed the curved vibrator into you, until the fit was perfectly snug. He made sure to position it so the pad pressed right against your already too-sensitive clit. Then, he went and sat in the armchair a few paces from the corner of the bed. 

It looked as though he was simply scrolling through his phone, his posture relaxed in the chair, head propped against his closed fist–but you knew better. He was making you sweat it out. You knew what was coming–and the wait was agonizing, just as he intended it to be. 

When it came–the sharp buzzing both inside and out–your whole body jerked. As he moved his thumb up and down his screen, the vibrations followed, growing stronger and then mellowing out. 

This was one of your favorite toys, except maybe not anymore. Holding back your orgasm was feeling closer and closer to impossible. Your hips bucked against the mattress, each attempt to get away from the intense vibrations futile. You wanted to cry–knew you would if this didn’t end soon. 

You uselessly struggled against the restraints, your legs trying to close on sheer instinct. The sounds that escaped you seemed more akin to those of an animal than a woman and your entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat. 

Without even thinking about it, you were begging. 

“Please, please, please.” Harry stayed silent. “S-sir, god, please!”

“No.”

The vibrations stopped and your body sagged in a false sense of relief now that the fight was over, though there was no [real] relief. He still refused to let you come.

The whining was involuntary. Each nerve ending was a live wire. If he touched you just once, just [barely] you’d explode. The squirming of your hips against the slick silicone was what pulled him up from his chair. He pulled the device from you, leaving you empty and aching. 

After releasing your wrists and ankles from the restraints, he patted the inside of your thigh. “Go take a shower.” 

That’s it. Nothing else. You felt the pressure behind your eyes as you stood from the bed. You nodded and whispered your “Yes, Sir” as you moved into the en suite. 

Your joints were sore from all your struggling, and all you wanted was a hug. It seemed his point had been made–at least in your opinion. You broke a direct order and then tried to lie about it. That was bad, you got it. Wouldn’t do it again. 

It wasn’t that you couldn’t take the punishment because you could. If not, you would’ve used your safe word. He only ever gave you as much as you could handle and you trusted him with your body entirely, without question. It was the lack of aftercare that was getting to you. During this punishment, he’d been doling out the bare minimum. All you’d gotten was maybe a kiss to the forehead and little love pats to your thighs. You were used to falling asleep in his lap, being wrapped up in a blanket, or being tucked into his side as he prepared you a snack or (upon request) ice cream sundaes. 

Under the hot water, you wiped the tears from your cheeks and let your body relax. You washed your hair and lathered your body using his products (ignoring the ones he kept for you on the shelf) since that was as close to him as he’d allow you to get this week. 

When you opened the shower door, he was standing there, waiting with a towel. “C’mere,” he said as he held it open for you. You stepped into him and he wrapped it around your body, then rubbed his hands up and down your arms. You snuggled as close to him as you could and he kissed the top of your head before saying, “Get dressed and I’ll take you home.”

You wanted to cry again, but didn’t. The punishment would end eventually, and you weren’t going to be weak about it. 

*

It was day four and you were so sexually frustrated, you wanted to cry. Literally. At this point, you were nothing more than a bundle of needy hormones. You had chosen to wear a dress into the office for no other reason than you wouldn’t have been able to deal with the seam of your jeans rubbing against your clit all day. Why torture yourself when Harry was already doing more than enough?

Halfway through your morning, you got a text from your boyfriend requesting that you go straight to his place from work. Thankfully, he couldn’t hear you sigh in annoyance. You didn’t want to be denied anymore. You were tired, and your body was still a little sore from the night before and you were mad at him. He never restrained you like that without some kind of massage afterwards. 

Each time you stood, your knees ached just a little and your hips had been stiff when you got out of bed this morning. Your body–and your brain–had had enough. 

You left work a little later than usual, staying to finish an edit that didn’t need to be done until Monday. The tube ride to his was spent trying not to work yourself up. You leaned back in your seat and listened to an album that your boss had been talking about all week, hoping to distract yourself. It worked until you were standing in front of his door. 

It opened without you having to knock and he smiled softly when he saw you. “Long day?”

So, apparently, you looked as tired as you felt. “I guess.”

He motioned for you to come in and, hesitantly, you did. He took your bags and set them in the entryway. 

“Help me finish dinner?”

Dinner. You tried not to get your hopes up that the punishment was over, but he was relenting. You’d take any allowance you could get at this point. 

“Sure.”

All that was really left to do was make the salad while he pulled everything out of the oven and set the table. 

“Go ahead and sit down,” he said as he took the bowl from in front of you. 

You took your seat and watched him move around the room, back and forth from the table with the roast chicken and sides, to the racks where he kept his wine. He poured you a glass and squeezed the back of your neck–a gesture that was both possessive and comforting. 

As you ate, he asked about work–the kinds of things you were working on, how you were settling in, etc. It was the most conversation the two of you had since he came home and it felt good. Almost too good. As much as you tried to fully relax back into your normal routine and dynamic, you couldn’t lose the last bit of tension in your shoulders. 

You wouldn’t be lured into a false sense of comfort–and Harry knew it too. He tried to hide his little half-smile, and if it were anyone else but you, it would’ve been missed but you knew him too well. 

When you put your napkin on the table signaling you were finished, he cleared the table without a word. He whistled along to the song playing throughout the main floor as you scrolled on your phone, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your attention. 

Really, you were in no place to be petty, but your nature was your nature. You flinched when you felt his hands on your shoulders, massaging into the knots that resided there for months, since the beginning of your new job. It was from stress that you didn’t necessarily mind, since you were doing something you loved. His fingers climbed up the back of your neck and into your hairline, pressing in soft circles. You hummed in satisfaction. 

“Is that good, baby?”

“Mhmm,” you said as your eyes fluttered closed. A quick tug to your hair pulled them open again. So, it was starting. “Yes, Sir,” you corrected, and were rewarded with more kneading at the base of your skull. 

“C’mon, we’re going upstairs.”

Your body buzzed with anticipation as you followed him up and into his room. He kissed your cheekbone as he passed in front of you to go to the wardrobe–the one that you’d come to see as the bane of your existence this last week. 

“Strip and lay on the bed for me.” You did as he said. All he returned with was a pair of soft handcuffs. Once your wrists were fastened together in front of you, he pushed your legs open and took a step back from the bed. 

“Hm.” He pulled his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger as he looked you over. “Pretty.”

The whimper was involuntary as you preened beneath his gaze. You could feel the pulse of your core. You were so sexually frustrated that it took nothing more than his approval for the desire to pool between your legs. The smirk on his face told you he could see it. 

“You didn’t listen to me,” he said as he stepped to the edge of the bed. He reached down and casually traced the outline of you, making sure to keep away from your clit and your center. “Why not?”

“I-I was horny, sir. You kept s-sending me–” You cut yourself off with a needy moan when Harry dipped his fingers in just enough to coat them with you. 

He spread it over your folds until the slickness touched your inner thighs. “Keep going.”

You took a shuddering breath and tried to focus. You also forced your hips to stay down, knowing that if you rocked yourself into his hand, he’d probably pull away. You couldn’t risk that, not when he was being so nice. “You kept sending me texts and photos o-of yourself–oh, god–and telling me all these…things.” 

He brushed his fingers through your folds as you spoke, skirting around the bundle of nerves perfectly primed to set you off. 

“So?”

“So, it made me want you and you weren’t there.”

“So?” He pushed a finger inside and your back arched off the bed. “Eyes open,” he said when they fluttered shut. 

“So, it wasn’t nice. You were teasing me–torturing me on purpose. It wasn’t fair that I had to wait and you didn’t.”

“Life isn’t fair.”

“I–”

“You hate when I say that, I know.” He pushed a second finger inside and you moaned. Your hips tilted forward on their own, seeking out something–anything–for relief. 

He removed his fingers. When he brushed his wet knuckles over your clit, a strangled cry replaced the disappointed sigh that escaped you. 

“Is that what you want, baby?”

You whined and wriggled on the mattress while he held his knuckles just out of reach. 

“Is it?”

“Yes, Sir. Please.” 

“I didn’t get off while I was gone.”

“Okay,” you panted, as you fought your own neediness. 

Harry slapped your clit and you cried out. “Listen to me. I did not get off while I was gone.”

“What? But you–”

“I know, the torture is the point. The teasing. I thought you would’ve learned this by now.” Another brush over your clit. Another moan. “That rule was for both of us. Did you think I wasn’t in agony? Each time you answered or sent a photo in return it took everything in me not to wrap my hand around my cock, but I have some self-control. I have patience. And I understand that whatever pleasure I could give myself wouldn’t compare to the kind I could get from you.”

When you whimpered this time, it wasn’t with need, but shame. You may have felt a little bad about breaking the rule now, and not just because it meant a little disappointment and a punishment. This was a big disappointment, you could hear it in his tone. It wasn’t just breaking a simple rule, but ruining something that was supposed to be good for the both of you. Granted, in your defense, he could’ve told you that, but you also knew why he didn’t: he shouldn’t have had to. 

“Sir, I’m really sorry.”

“I bet you are.” He gave your clit a pinch that sent a flash of heat over your entire body. “I should make you wait another week. Edge you every night until you're begging for my cock, and then still not give it just so we’re even.”

“I–”

“Quiet.” He grabbed your hips and pulled you further down the bed. He placed his knee on the mattress, positioning his thigh only an inch from your clit. “You want to come so badly, go ahead.”

Your brow lifted in surprise. “What?”

“Go ahead, come. You have my permission, but I’m not helping you. You want it, take it, or I’ll uncuff you, and you can get dressed so I can take you home.”

“Sir–”

“You’ve got less than a minute before I dress you myself.” The hard edge to his voice told you he wasn’t kidding. Not in the slightest.

You looked from the stern set of his face down to his jean-clad thigh. When you looked back at your boyfriend, his jaw was set. He didn’t move or say a word. 

Your entire body heated with something close to embarrassment, but it was also mixed with anticipation, shame, and need. You didn’t want to go home, you wanted to get off and if this was all he was offering, you’d have to take it. Especially since, if you didn’t, you’d be in even more trouble with him. You didn’t need him to say it to know. 

You planted your heels into the mattress and closed the gap between you two. When you lifted your hips, your clit brushed against the rough material and you groaned. You rolled your hips against his thigh and cursed. It felt so good. You knew it wouldn’t take you very long to cum. The only thing stopping you from instantly falling over the edge was the fact that you could only get close enough for a light brushing–there was no pressure. The only real friction came from the coarse fabric–but it would be enough. More than enough. 

Your abs and thighs burned as you held your hips up, and with every rock of your hips, the muscles in your stomach contracted with the effort. This was its own kind of punishment, you realized. He was making you work for it. 

You had kept your eyes locked on his stiff cock pushing against the front of his jeans, not sure if you wanted to know how exactly he was looking at you. 

“That’s it, baby.” 

But, of course, all it took was that little bit of praise to get your attention. The sternness was still there, but there was also heat. He wanted you–and he seemed to love seeing you like this: needy and unbelievably desperate. Because that’s what you were. Getting your release was all you could think of. 

You wanted something to hold onto, to grip onto the blankets beneath you for more stability, but you couldn’t do it with your wrists handcuffed together. You whined with the realization. 

“I know.” The comfort was full of condescension, and you wished it didn’t turn you on even more, but it did. 

You were sweating from exertion, but you were so close. 

“C’mon, baby. Rub yourself on my thigh. I can feel how wet you are, my dirty girl.” 

You looked down to see for yourself. Where you rubbed yourself was a much darker shade of blue. Your head fell back with a moan. 

In an act of undeserved kindness, Harry pressed his thigh against you, offering you the most delicious kind of friction; the kind that almost hurt. 

It was only another second before you were tumbling over the edge. You came so hard that stars erupted behind your eyes, and your skin felt white hot. You were sure you cursed and cried out his name but you were so detached from reality that you couldn’t know for sure. 

He didn’t wait for you to come down from the high. He undid the fastening of his jeans before leaning over and uncuffing your wrists. “Up.” He walked to the right side of the bed and took a seat. “Come and sit on my cock.”

Still in somewhat of a daze, you did as he said. As soon as he pulled his length from the confines of his jeans, you straddled his hips and sank down. 

“Fucking hell,” he groaned. He gripped your waist and guided your hips, holding you down so he was fully sheathed. 

You ignored the harsh rubbing of material against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and focused on how good it felt to feel him inside of you. 

“You’re gonna come again,” he said before sucking on your neck, leaving a mark that you hoped would be gone by the time you had to go back to the office after the weekend. 

You whimpered, not entirely confident you had it in you. Your clit was overstimulated and raw from the week’s torture. “It’s going to hurt.”

“I know. You’ll do it anyway.”

When his voice was that deep and raspy, so commanding, who were you to argue?

“Yes,Sir.”

He pulled you far enough away that he could dip down and lick your peaked nipples. He sucked and nibbled until your chest and cheeks were red hot with the building of another orgasm. 

“Oh, god.” You gripped the collar of his t-shirt. 

He hummed against your skin. “That’s it. Keep going.” He held you tight enough that you wouldn’t be able to disconnect your clit from where it rubbed against the base of him even if you wanted to–and you were really walking that line. It was almost unbearable, the pleasure only a hair away from pain. 

When he tilted his hips to hit that special spot inside, the tension ripped loose. You dug your nails into the muscle of his shoulders as your body shook against his, your hips rocking frantically, both chasing the high and trying to get away from it. 

“Fuck,” he groaned into your neck as he emptied himself inside you. With a strong arm wrapped around your waist, he kept you riding him through both of your orgasms as your body filled with exhaustion. 

He peppered kisses over your chest, shoulders, neck and jaw until you felt him go soft, still tucked inside. You were close to falling asleep on his chest when he pulled out and lifted you up into his arms. 

“Shower first,” he whispered before kissing the top of your head and carrying you into the en suite. He set you on the counter and disappeared.

He came back with a cold glass of water, which you took happily. He turned the shower on, pulled two towels from the wardrobe and set them on the fancy warmer before returning to you. His hands moved from your shoulder to cup your face and he leaned in to kiss you. 

“You did well this week, love.”

“It sucked.”

He laughed. “It was supposed to.” Another peck to your lips and he helped you down. “Go ahead.”

You stepped into the shower and watched through the quickly fogging glass as he stripped. The second he stepped in you were glued to him, your head to his chest and his arms around your waist. 

You only pulled apart when he washed you. His hands moved over your body, soft and soapy, digging into the muscles he had neglected the nights before. 

“I think I owe you a massage or two.”

“Try three–at least.”

He kissed your hip from his spot beneath you. When he brought his hand up to wash between your legs, you flinched. 

“Sore?”

“A little numb, actually. Wasn’t even expecting that to hurt.” 

He kissed right above your mound. “Sorry, love. I’ll be gentle.”

He finished his task and you took over, doing the same for him. Despite his hardening length, he didn’t try to touch you again, or ask you to help him relieve what must have been a lot of pent up frustration. Instead, he held your face in his hands and kissed you, murmuring soft I love yous in between. 

After toweling each other off, he turned down the covers, put on Sleepless in Seattle and promised to make you blueberry pancakes in the morning.

[xavviquz]

♦︎ subby!bf who cant help his sex drive ♦︎ !NSFW!

warnings // !!MDNI!! sub!bf x amab!reader, edging, anal sex, praise, degrading, nicknames like whore, slut, ect. might be mentioned, i did NOT proofread

notes // my first time ever writing stuff like this so feel free to leave suggestions and bits of advice! please be nice with me. ☺︎ wc: 320

although your boyfriend is sweet and warmhearted, he always wants you. around him, or in him it didn’t matter. when he’d have a hard on in public, he’d grasp on your hand, pressing on his crotch.

you shook your head, looking back at the other. you knew he was hard yet you never did it in public. not even in the bathrooms or in the dressing rooms just for a quick blow. you always made him wait patiently because you knew he’d be whimpering and whining for forgiveness for doing that in public the second you get home.

your boyfriend is completely helpless under you. each time when you have him practically fucked out of his mind and begging on his knees. even with such harsh treatment, he always seemed to beg and beg for more. and who were you to refuse such a messy, cute, fucked up face?

you gripped onto his hair, your cock thrusting in and out of your boyfriends ass like your life depended on it. usually when it was a persons first time, they’d be greated with bliss and soft pleasure. but all your little boyfriend wanted was you to manhandle him. he wanted to make sure his only thought was you and that monster inbetween your legs.

“god you’re such a whore f’me..” you tugged on his hair, pulling him up to your level. drool was dripping down from his chin and onto the white bedsheets that were once perfectly clean. now, they were stained with his orgasms and your cum.

as he gripped onto the sheets, practically begging you to stop and that hes had enough, you just couldnt. he just went through with a dry orgasm, but somehow that wasnt enough for you. “mmphf.. pplh- ease! nn’ more..”

such pathetic whines that were soft music to your ears.

“goodboy.. just take a little more, yeah? you can handle just a few more minutes.”

// - gojo, choso, sunday, nuevillette, yuuta

☺︎ xavviquz 2024 - do not copy, repost, or modify

[sophswritingthings]

i’ve never done one of these before, i’m kinda scared 😭

could you possibly do mizu walking in on the reader changing? :) or if your not comfortable with that could you do mizu watching us write on ourselves? (like how she did in one of the episodes, i forgot which one)

pairing: mizu x fem!reader

warning(s): kind of nsfw, but it’s not like—horrible. it’s basically just mizu having nsfw thoughts. swearing!

a/n: AHH don’t be scared!!! it’s all safe here dw!!

summary: mizu accidentally walks in on you changing, and she has some… thoughts about it.

word count: 320 words / 1,751 characters

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

you’d just got out of the shower, your body soaking wet as you ruffled through your drawers to find a kimono.

your hair was falling in front of your face, water dripping onto the wooden floor.

you looked calm, peaceful, safe as you were getting changed.

that was until your door swung wide open, seeing your partner standing there.

you quickly attempted to cover up your body, locking eyes with mizu. your entire face turned bright red; as did hers.

“a—ah—i-I’m sorry, (y/n),” she stammered, slamming the door shut as she walked out of the room.

she still had her hand on the doorknob, standing outside the door. her entire face was bright red under her glasses; her body feeling like it was on fire.

… why in hell did you have to look so hot—naked and dripping wet?

all kinds of thoughts were running through her mind—like how it would feel to just run her hands down your silky smooth curves—or to have you under her weight squirming until she let you—

—she stopped herself, taking a deep breath and adjusting her glasses up her nose.

that’s when the door opened, revealing you on the other side. your face was still beat red; looking up at her.

you tucked your wet hair behind your ear, chuckling softly.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

you grab her collar, pulling her down into a passionate kiss. her eyes widened, but she didn’t protest; she didn’t even try to move.

“I don’t mind,” you whisper. “and I… know I just got dressed, but why don’t you come in here and take these off me?”

you raise an eyebrow, seductively. you were implying exactly what she wanted to hear, at the time.

she hurriedly grabbed your hand, dragging you inside the room. she kissed your lips hungrily, pushing you against the wall.

she extends her leg, pushing the door shut with her foot.

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

a/n: I know it’s short… but maybe I could do a smut part? idk I’m thinking abt it

[eggsandramem]

thinking about the notes i currently have for nameless (siffrins nickname in the 1k loops au that ive kinda stuck onto him in a rp server)

i dont??? know if ive even shared them here??? erm

YAP SESSION TIME‼️ (below the cut)

[CW FOR MENTIONS OF IMPLIED SH, AND SUI]

[additionally, spoiler warning for pretty much the entire game :0c(?)]

yay! yay! yay!

`TIMELINE`

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

`. • Timeless days of Lost Reflections • .`

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[ The AU itself takes place during the canon events of ISAT, but with the sort of effect of Siffrin losing more and more of his memories as he passes through loop after loop, forgetting more and more with each loop.

Its mentioned, and even *shown* ingame that Siffrin forgets entire loops, and the game will sometimes hop from, lets say for example; 320 to 326 [as i have personally seen happen to myself multiple times as i went through my own save file consisting of exactly 1000 loops (why i did this? i saw the post Adrienne(isertdisc5) made, with a video showing a false cutscene when you reach 1k loops, with loop responding with "Stardust. What the fuck". I thought it was silly) and thought it would be a fun bit to pull off), but happening more and more with each loop. The more loops that go by, the more his memory starts to decline; forgetting where traps, keys, items are... but as the loops happen more and more consistently, he starts to lose more *important* memories, those being that of what he did with his family before the loops, small little things that have made important memories with them, and even over time, he's grown to forgetting his family members as a whole. Forgetting all of this is bad enough, but there's a point where he forgets himself; the things he likes, the things he's supposed to do, the hobbies and food he likes and dislikes...

Loop is still apart of all of this, except they've kept every memory in this journey so far. originally, they thought it was rather funny at first, due to being "happy they weren't the only idiot who got themself trapped in time". Overtime, however, Loop just grows... exhausted. it was funny at first, but with Siffrins memory and motivation rapidly decreasing, they're just stuck with the memories that the universe has had them keep, rather than forget, and they start to think, even more so, the fact of what the point of their original wish was, if it was to turn out this way? It hits them hard, to say the least, having them think of if this happened to them in their own universe as well, what it would be like...

Siffrins forgotten loop multiple times as well, surprisingly. Loop would call to check in on Siffrin during loops, only for him to be startled, asking where the voice came from, who it was... They forget their physical appearance often as well, whenever this happens, they just look.... confused, seeing Loop under the favor tree when he goes to visit

Siffrin is..... extremely tired, fatigued, overall *exhausted* from all of these loops, and often stays within the meadow in Dormont. ]

[ This AU actually takes place in act 5, and sort of reverses itself as it goes on. Safe to say, Odile wasn't able to stop Siffrin from looping back during the fight, and it started all over again, from going in the house on his own multiple times, back to going with his party after not noticing many changes due to the Bigfrin fight not happening a second time, Siffrin being able to defeat the King on his own, only to end up with the same thing from the Head Housemaiden over, and over, and over again. Just. Like. Usual. After not being able to find any changes with going on his own, he starts going with his party again. Being with his party in the house again, he starts to try new things, only to forget things he's done beforehand, and repeating them when he forgets, but thinks of it again.

This continues to happen, until Siffrin sort of... grows tired, and his sense of time in the House, as well as his memory fail him. He starts to just remain in the meadow, laying in the field with the birds often coming to sit with him ]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

`NOTES`

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

`✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦`

☆*:・ﾟ - Siffrin keeps number of how many loops he's gone through by using a small paper card to cut a tally into his skin. This being said, he has 1000 tallies total spread out along both of his arms. For some reason, his body has sort of just. goes on autopilot, and Siffrin usually doesn't even notice that it happened, especially later in the loops since he doesn't know where they keep coming from (despite being the one causing them). Why these remain is strange, especially since he loops to before it happens, but... weird thing in the universe, i guess

*: ･ﾟ ’★ - As a continuation to the tally mark scars; Overtime, the amount of deaths from certain things start to leave a mark on Siffrin, literally. Scars start to remain the more he dies to them, only healing them to be non-lethal, and just as scars in general. This includes; a scar on his head in reference to slipping on a banana and hitting a rock, a large slash-like scar going from the top to bottom of his torso (front AND back), partially frozen 'markings' from his hands and up his arms from frozen tear deaths, other random scars from fighting sadnesses here and there, and a scar on his neck from.... you know. `(visuals for scars can be found HERE. heavy cw for the sh-like tally marks!!!)`

☆*:・ﾟ - Similarly to the scarring, Siffrins hair length doesn't stay the same the more loops he goes through. Over time, his hair has grown to be able to reach where his tailbone is, and is still growing with each loop. Said hair is very messy; matted, unbrushed... He's thankful that he has the ability to shower and clean his clothing in dormont when he has the chance, atleast. You don't want to be walking around with overly greasy hair, and gross/smelly clothing, after all. Siffrins cloaks have also started to look more and more worn out along with his hair, and permanently has some missing fabric here and there, as well as parts he's had to sew back together.

*: ･ﾟ ’★ - `[cw sui ment.]`Siffrins dagger starts to have blood stained, or dried on the blade further in the loops, the more he ||uses it on himself.|| The more its used, the more present it is on the blade.

☆*:・ﾟ - One of the memories that can be equipped, is the "Memory of Memories". in the game, its description is [You can remember this, at least.], so i think that it would be interesting if it acts as a permanent Memory now that it's been made aware of. That being said, Siffrin can read the language of his home country, and even over time speak it, the more he needs to use it in the house. Below is the proper description for the Memory;

---- • Memory of Ḿ̶̨e̵͛ͅm̶͘̕o̶̥͠ŕ̷͂i̴̔̉è̴s?

[ you cannot forget this even if you tried ]

( allows the user to understand and use the north islands language) ----

*: ･ﾟ ’★ - On the topic of Memories; Siffrin forgets the "Memory of Emptiness" as soon as he stops going through the house on his own, and goes back to loops including his family. The only Memories he keeps are "Memory of Ḿ̶̨e̵͛ͅm̶͘̕o̶̥͠ŕ̷͂i̴̔̉è̴s?", and "Memory of Spiraling" after this. "Memory of Spiraling" is the other Memory that Siffrin keeps after the previously mentioned one. Instead of not having a Memory for remembering the script dialogue in the actual game, 1k loops Siffrin is *forgetful as hell*, so having a memory they cant forget helps with it. The memory is as follows;

---- • Memory of Spiraling (Passive Memory)

[ Turning back the clock- watch it spiraling, spiraling ]

( allows the user to ALWAYS remember their lines in the script. cannot be unequipped ) ----

☆*:・ﾟ - Siffrin experiences Craft Sickness due to very obvious reasons during all of his loops. Siffrins been brought down to his entire body being weakened, collapsing when he deals with it for too long with no breaks. However, Siffrin has grown to push through them with sheer stubbornness, before it gets too bad and it happens again. This happens over and over again, a loop within a loop in a way, if you think about it.

*: ･ﾟ ’★ - Siffrin avoided Loop for a good amount of loops after he looped back from the Bigfrin fight due to their previous convo, but went back after a while

☆*:・ﾟ - Siffrin, over time, has found himself collapsing from exhaustion within the house when with his party, and it causes him to loop due to the stress of something new happening. Additionally, a very common death Siffrin experiences is when he's exhausted himself to point of dying in his sleep when his party offers it

*: ･ﾟ ’★ - Siffrin, the more loops he goes through and the more he forgets about his Family Members and their Names, the less he can even hear their names, and his own. Names he previously knows of sound fuzzy and static-y within their hearing distance!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

MORE TO COME! BUT YAY! YAY! YAY! YAY! YAY!

[eupheme]

a sneak peek / precursor for some filth that I am hoping to have out tomorrow/this weekend 👀💖

kraven x f!reader

tags: predator/prey undertones | 320 words

His sigh had cut you off.

The flex of a bare bicep, as his arms crossed, “Tell you what, sweetheart.”

Condescension dripping from the word as his eyes had scanned the horizon - through the forest of trees. Focusing for a second, before they were fixing on yours again.

“We’re about five miles from the edge. If you can find your way out before I find you, I’ll let you take point until we get there.”

Your pacing had slowed to a halt, thinking for a moment about his offer. Stepping closer, as you scoffed.

A finger had pointed, twirling up into the branches, “You’ll just use them.”

The creatures of the forest. His unnatural connections.

His tongue licked across his teeth, his look dark. Voice quiet, laced with assurance as he had smirked.

“I won’t.”

A moment, then, “Don’t need to.”

Your eyebrows had rose, challenging. Irritation prickling at his confidence, that need to best him rising.

“Fine.” You had bit out.

“Fine.” He smiled.

His own fingers reached out then, hooking around the thick strap of your belt, looped into your jumpsuit.

Giving it a sharp tug, as he pulled you between his spread knees. A slow drag of his eyes, starting at his hands, then up and up. Tracing over your form.

A heat had burned, even then. Flickering to life, as his voice has dropped.

“But when I win, you’re going to do exactly as I say.” He rasps, the words slow - drawn out, “No more of that smart mouth. Understand?”

The look he had given you had made you shiver. Heated, as his face has tipped up to yours. Daring you.

You swallowed, before your tongue peeked through your teeth, to wet your lips. His eyes watching the movement, as you had nodded.

Letting go, as you stepped away.

“No cheating.” You reminded him, as you turned - starting to plot out your own path.

A rough laugh, as he shifted fully onto the stump he was leaning against, slowly crossing his legs. Ensuring that he wouldn’t be able to feel the tremor of your steps, sending the direction you’d be heading.

“Fifteen minutes.” He had warned you, as his eyes closed.

“Go.”

(if you want to be tagged, please let me know! 💕)

edit - fic is finished and posted here!

[yourfavouriterival]

Cockwarming din, not because he wants to be in control, just because he wants to be as close as possible

one of the shorter things i've written but i like it! i'm trying to not babble in fics that don't need it. i also am still a whore even if i haven't written anything in a while. hope this is okay, still getting in the loop of things again!

pairing : din djarin x female!reader

warnings : cockwarming, previous mentions of sex

word count : 320

summary : the request

-

“Let me in.”

It was a request whispered in the dead of night, and without question, Y/N sleepily lifted her leg to hook over Din’s hip where they lay, his chest to her back. She relished in the feeling of his fingers swiping over her cunt, circling her clit and dipping down to curl a finger before smoothing her arousal over his cock. The blunt head of his length pressed gently to her wet opening as he held her stomach to arch her hips into him, and she keened as he rocked his cock into her gently.

When he finally slipped into her, sliding deeper as she whimpered out his name, he stilled, arms wrapping around her hips to pull her closer. Her hands came to grip his fingers, humming as he stretched her walls.

“‘S deep,” she whispered into the darkness of where they were supposed to be sleeping, heart pounding in arousal. Her nipples, erect in the cold room, pebbled even more—as though it were possible—and another round of wetness went through her, letting Din slide in deeper.

He rocked his hips into her, once, twice and then halting as his tip pushed into her g-spot. With his twitching and her throbbing walls, everything seemed to beckon him deeper, seemed to want him to ravage and pound her into the mattress, but the ache in his legs from the long day they had and the way she leaned her head back to just bask in how full she felt hindered him from doing so.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he said as he shifted his hips to rest against her ass comfortably. Usually, one of them would be on their knees in front of the other, but there was something peaceful—and oddly romantic—that made nothing else matter. “I love you,” he repeated to her, but he could feel with how her chest moved that she was already asleep.