#draw the damn curtains
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thehmn · 1 year ago
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Me: It’s getting dark. We should probably draw the curtains.
Housemates: Why?
Me: Because someone could be out there looking at us and we wouldn’t know.
Housemates: Pff! Who walks around in the dark like that?
Me: ……ME!!! I walk around in the dark and I meet people all the time! Draw the damn curtains!
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multongsisig · 4 months ago
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I read the story of Lim & Marak Blackwing. I already liked the little of their story that was mentioned in Close Kin, but the full thing was just so good 😩 My favorite thing about Clare B. Dunkle's worldbuilding is that when she expands on the tales of previous King's Wives (both goblin and elf), the stories are always tragedies or heroic acts of sacrifices, never romances. Lim's story is a bit of both, a little similar to Kate's in that regard, which is what made quite compelling to me. The two are an interesting pair for how much discomfort and pity they inspired in me during the story lol.
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birdricks · 1 year ago
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getting sooooo emotional abt how like. when rick and bp meet again during the federation stuff its like theyre completely different ppl from who they were when they last saw each other. but it almost makes them become closer instead of driving them apart… until of course their values clash in the worst possible way
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esdyre · 1 year ago
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"i'm feeling very mortal today" is such an iconic fadeaway. tasteful. classy. lyrical. vulnerable. a painfully human confession between two characters denied humanity as a cult-worshipped divine paragon willed to embody a singular infallible trait and an inorganic construct built for mindless function and not sapient personhood. the juxtaposition of maelgwyn unmasked and the charter buried in castille resurfaced. the bittersweet in two people desperate for comfort and stability seizing a fleeting moment of reprieve while oblivious through adamant denial to the imminent tragedy that awaits them and is in part a product of their self-destructive attachment to each other
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amochi · 2 years ago
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One writing thing that annoys me is when a new element of a character dynamic is introduced for Plot but the dynamic is shown as such an integral/historical part of the relationship it’s a wonder why it wasn’t mentioned sooner. The answer is because the writers needed something with an emotional gut punch for the plot, but the punch (for me at least) feels more like the writers patting me on the back and going “we’re writing this as we go, give us a break”
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cathnospam · 2 months ago
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Thinking about how canon!Katsuki would definitely be the kind of guy to stare at you.
We all know he has a habit of just looking and being nosey, so I believe he’d be way worse with his crush.
The way he stares is almost like you can feel his deep blood red eyes touch your cheek while you scribble your notes away in your notebook. You’ve notice he has done it a lot, but you were never the type to outwardly call him out on anything, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention and awkwardness.
But he would always stare, his mouth and chin covered by the palm of his hand, right leg jumping in tandem with his pencil he keeps moving back and fourth with his fingers.
You’re just so damn pretty.
It’s not what he thinks, but it’s what he’s showing, his eyelids are narrowed, slight scowl, but not entirely an annoyed look he usually does.
Eyes traveling to your crossed smooth legs, noticing the little small indents of your cellulite on your thighs.
You look so soft.
The little cute expressions you make when you’re focused on solving the problem in front of you.
You look so cuddly.
The different hairstyles you wear almost every other week. This week you decided on boho braids and they flowed off your shoulder almost like a curtain covering your pretty side profile, that’s until you throw the strands in the back of your head again.
You’re ethereal.
Bakugo loves to just look at you. He would rather choke than admit it, but he will be focused on finishing his work early just for some extra time to look back at you again.
If anybody were to point out the fact his pupils are dilated right now he’d blow them across the class.
He just keeps staring at you.
Eventually he will get caught. You will look back with your warm smile and Ironically enough when he does see you he will avoid your eye contact back like the plague.
Damn hypocrite.
But also damn you for being such a beautiful girl to Katsuki.
continuation here
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lovelivision · 3 months ago
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GHOSTLY ROMANCE ♡
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: fushiguro toji/reader
𝐖𝐂: 8k
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: when it becomes blatantly obvious your house is being haunted, the only thing there is for you to do is coexist but what do you do when that ghostly presence haunting your house begins haunting your heart ??
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, making out, obsessive! toji, ghost! toji, slight perv! toji, toji has a big dick, dirty talk, fingering, voyeurism (?), p in v sex, squirting, creampie, f!reader, reader referred to as 'woman', i think that's all ♡
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As of late, you’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that your house is haunted, and you aren’t really sure how to react. Often times, you’ll find things aren’t where you left them, some objects are moved just slightly of where they were, and other things are found in completely different rooms.
Sometimes when you go to lock your doors and windows for the night, you find it’s already been done. Innocuous and for the most part these are things you could brush off as you being absent minded, the kicker comes when you start seeing a figure out the corner of your eye or in a passing reflection.
Ignoring it all has been your go to, deciding it’s best to just pretend it’s not happening, and you would continue to keep doing so but your sleep is getting interrupted now and if there is anything you don’t get in between, it’s you and your sleep.
The dreams you’ve been having have started to wander into the obscure territory of some man you don’t recognise living in your house. He walks around like he owns the place, locking doors, closing curtains. It’s not particularly scary but it is unsettling and leaves you feeling unrested, like you didn’t sleep much at all.
Now, as you’re trying to get some well-deserved rest, something goes bump in the night, and you just know it’s that stupid man haunting your house. Frustratedly, you kick the covers off your body and stomp down the hall to where you think the sound originated from.
Arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently, you wait for something, anything, but of course nothing comes. This ghost, entity, or whatever, that’s haunting you started off as easy to ignore and now it’s pissing you off greatly, you just want some damn sleep.
“You got me here, you got me out of bed so you must want something,” your foot continues to tap, increasing pace with your bad mood.
The room continues to be blanketed by the quiet you so badly wanted while you were drifting to sleep, “You’re so rude, haunting me with stupid dreams and moving my shit…” you’re grumbling to yourself, “…haven’t slept well in over a week and now I can’t even get to sleep!”
Still, the room is filled by the deafening silence that usually lingers in your house at this hour, “Great… and now I’m talking to myself, I’m going fucking crazy.”
As you turn to leave the room, you bump into something that feels as stiff as a board. You take a few steps back at it and you’re met with someone’s chest. The person in front of you leans down until they meet your face, his tone deep and monotone when he lets out a low, “Boo.”
It almost feels like the blood drains out of your body at the sight of him and before you have time to really process, your hand is reaching back and up to give him a hard slap right across the face. A small yelp leaving you at it, the smack resounding throughout the otherwise quiet house.
When you draw your hand back, it’s to cover your mouth as you gasp at just how hard you seemed to have slapped him, apology tumbling from your lips and you can only really say it’s because of how shocked you are by the force you used, “I’m so sorry, oh my God, that sounded really bad… did that hurt?”
He’s stoic for a moment before cracking a smile and chuckling at your shocked apology, “Not quite the reaction I was looking for.”
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you…” you trail off, suddenly regretting all your apologies, “Hey! You’re the one who should be apologising to me.”
He’s still far too amused for your liking, “What for? You’re the one who hit me.”
“You quite frankly deserved it,” your brows furrow as you eye him over, you expected something more… ghoulish but he appears to just be some man.
“I don’t think so, I’ve done nothing to you…” he’s talking but you’re not really paying attention, confused by his appearance and, honestly, existence.
Your finger moves towards him, poking at his chest, something you think you shouldn’t be able to do. He’s firm, obviously corporeal, it’d surprise you more if you hadn’t just slapped him as hard as you did.
You’re lost in your thoughts as you continue to poke at him. He cuts himself off to grab your wrist, “–What are you doing?”
“Are you just some guy? Are you just some man in my house right now?” You’re beginning to freak out, much more amenable to the idea of a ghost in your house over some stranger, “I have to call the cops…” you try tugging away, quickly growing more fearful.
He’s rolling his eyes at you like you’re overreacting, “Calm down.”
Your eyes are big and round as you look up at him, scared out of your mind as the idea of some man in your house settles in your bones, “No, I think I’m going to keep being scared.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’m not human…” he squints at you, “Anymore.”
Rightly sceptical when you utter back, “I don’t know if I believe you…”
He seems annoyed at your unwillingness to take him at his word, sighing as he turns and walks out of the room… through the wall. You wait a moment for him to come back but he doesn’t, you’re left in the room alone, wondering if that little interaction actually happened or if you’ve finally lost it.
Another moment passes, waiting, just in case he appears again before you resign yourself to the fact that you’re beginning to hallucinate from lack of sleep. Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself and walk back to your room, only to be met with the sight of him laying leisurely on your bed.
“I’ve gone insane,” you mumble to yourself, “I’m losing my fucking mind in this house alone.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re sane, from what I’ve seen anyways,” He shrugs, “A little spacey but otherwise.”
His words have you glaring at him, “You ever been told you’re annoying?”
“Not for a long time, no,” his smirk is lopsided.
You approach the foot of your bed, looking at him with your arms crossed, “Right… okay, well, you’re annoying.”
His own arms are supporting his head, clearly very comfortable in your bed, “You’ve only spoken to me for a few minutes, I might grow on you.”
A scowl overtakes your face, “I really doubt it.”
His smile feels condescending, “I think it’s your only option, either you get used to me or you move out because this was my house first, sorry doll.”
“I’m still not fully convinced you’re not just some guy in my house,” how are you meant to tell if you’ve gone insane? Maybe you should book a doctor’s appointment.
“I technically am…” he tilts his head at you, “I’m just not alive.”
There are so many questions you have, and you aren’t even sure if you’d believe any of his answers, “If you’re a ghost why can I touch you?”
Stretching out slightly, he groans before answering, “Because I let you, how else would I be moving your shit around?”
“So, you are moving my things around!” You’re pointing at him like some huge mystery has been solved.
He looks at you like it should be obvious at this point that it was him, taking the wind out of your sails with a single look.
Coughing slightly, you cross your arms again, trying to recover from the slight embarrassment you’re currently feeling, “Why are you touching my things and why show yourself now?”
“You yelled at me to show myself,” he rolls his neck, “Thought I’d be polite and give an introduction.”
“Some introduction… you didn’t even give me your name,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming on, “You only answered one of my questions.”
A soft sigh leaves him, like this whole conversation is becoming tedious, “I get bored.”
“Really? That’s your answer? I’ve been wondering if I’m crazy or if my house is haunted and even losing sleep over stupid dreams of your stupid face and you’re telling me it’s because you’re bored.”
He purses his lips, like he’s trying to hide a smile, “Pretty much.”
“Get out.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” your hands are on your hips, prominent frown plastered on your face, “Get out.”
“I can’t technically leave,” he tries to reason with you.
“I don’t care, I know you can disappear and leave me alone so do that,” you’re so tired and cranky, you just want to go to sleep and pretend this never happened, “I want to sleep, and I want it to be peaceful so leave me alone and get out!”
“So bossy,” he grumbles as he gets up, leaning down into your space as he walks past you, “I like that in a woman.”
You fight the involuntary shiver that wants to run down your spine, beyond pissed off at Casper the annoying ghost. Why did your house have to be haunted? Why couldn’t you live a peaceful and normal life? These are all things you wonder as you crawl into bed, determined to get some sleep tonight.
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
In the morning, you think what had happened last night was some obscure dream, and you’d probably go on thinking that way if your ghostly house guest didn’t appear in front of you while you’re in the middle of breakfast.
Your spoon clatters to your bowl with a gasp, “Don’t!” You sigh loudly, “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” He leans back into the chair across from you.
“Don’t just appear,” you grumble to yourself, “Almost thought I had made up all of last night.” So close to having a normal life, you can see it now floating out of your grasp.
“Sorry, doll, I’m very real and I very much live here.”
That earns him a scoff, “You’re a freeloader.”
“Excuse me?” He leans forward, elbows resting on the table.
You repeat it for him slower, “You. Are. A. Freeloader.”
“I heard you,” his eye almost twitches.
Leaning back in your chair, you cross your arms, looking away from him and out the window, “Then don’t act like you didn’t.”
“I could kill you,” he threatens.
You don’t feel inclined to take him seriously, “So could my neighbour, you’re not special.” Your gaze is fixed out the window, watching said neighbour walking to collect his mail. When you turn back to your unwanted companion his glare is pointed and very clearly unhappy which only has you rolling your eyes at him, “You’d really kill me because I called you a freeloader?”
A quiet hum leaves him, “I’m considering it.”
“Drama queen,” it’s murmured but you know he heard it, especially if his growing scowl is anything to go off.
“Shouldn’t you be more scared or something?”
Your eyes squint at him, leaning over the table slightly as you provoke, “Oh, I bet you’d love that.”
“I would actually,” he almost sounds exasperated which only has you growing amused.
You decide to try bargaining with him, “Listen, if you’re gonna freeload here the least you can do is stay out of my way.”
“I liked you better last night when you were scared.”
You take a mouthful of your breakfast, pointing at him with your spoon when you reply, “Well, I liked you better a few months ago when it was significantly easier to ignore your presence.”
It’s quiet, no reply coming from him, leaving it up to you to continue the conversation if you want answers, “What do you even want? Because if you really do plan on killing me I’ll tell you now that the next person who lives here will not be as cute as I am.”
He deadpans at your joke, “You’re hilarious.”
“I know,” you flick your head like you’re flipping luxurious hair.
Already seemingly sick of you when he grumbles, “I already regret showing myself to you.”
“Good, this is much more of an ordeal for me you know? Not only do I know ghosts exist now but there is some guy in my house all the time, how am I meant to go on with my daily life?”
“Not really my problem,” he brushes off your concern.
Being honest, you say, “I don’t like you.”
To which he returns with a big grin, “I’ll grow on you.”
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
You wish so badly that he didn’t, but he does, he grows on you. It’s nice coming home to someone, having someone to talk to while you eat or do mundane chores. It’s been a few months now and you thought he would be more of a bother, but you think you might be the one bothering him.
It’s funny how you didn’t realise how lonely you were until you finally had someone to spend time with. Early on he told you his name, Toji, he told you he used to live here, and that he died in the house. He still hasn’t disclosed to you how he died, and you don’t want to intrude by asking so you don’t. He’s still quite young so you imagine it wasn’t by natural causes which only deters you from wanting to probe for any more information from him.
If you’re being honest with yourself, you’d recognise that you’re beginning to crush on a ghost but since that seems like something so far out of the realm of ever possibly happening, you squash down the feelings. And when that doesn’t work, you try avoiding him, which is not exactly a fool proof plan when he’s the ghost haunting your house who doesn’t need to sleep.
For the third weekend in a row, you’re sneaking into your own house late, having been out all night with friends just to avoid spending the whole day with Toji. It’s his fault though! He’s hot and also a huge flirt and he makes your heart race, and none of these thoughts are holy so you decided to just avoid him altogether.
Kicking your shoes off at the door, you sneak through the house and into your room, thinking you’ve successfully changed and gotten into bed without him noticing. Victory short lived when he appears next to you on your bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip suddenly.
You scrabble for a second, not expecting the shift, body falling into his. Sheepishly, you look up at him, hand pressed to his chest trying to give yourself some space to think, not used to this proximity. You purposefully keep your distance from him, and it feels like he purposefully gets in yours.
He’s quick to get to the point, “Where were you?”
“Out with some friends…” Hesitance clear in your answer.
“Again,” It’s a question but it doesn’t really sound like one.
“…Yeah.”
His eyes scan your face intently and it has you shying away from him, “You’re being odd,” he states abruptly.
Immediate response being defensiveness, “Because I’m going out with my friends?”
“No, that’s not it, it’s the frequency, you used to spend most weekends home alone.”
Still, you can’t get used to how he knows these things about you, “Okay we’re just gonna ignore that you know that about me.”
Again, he doesn’t beat around the bush, “Don’t change the topic, you’ve been avoiding me.”
Gaze averting his as you stumble out a small, “That’s not true.”
His eyes meet yours with a pointed look, clearly not believing your half assed lie, “Come on, doll, if I’ve done something to upset you I’d prefer you just say it.”
“You’ve not done anything,” you jump to assure him, not wanting him to feel bad for no reason. “You’re the best ghost anyone could ask to haunt their house.”
Ignoring your attempt at humour he pushes for more, “Then what is it?”
An awkward pause shared between you as you try to think of an excuse, “Uhm… My friends… have just been wanting to see me more is all, it has nothing to do with you…”
“Mhm…” you can tell he doesn’t believe you, but he can’t go much further than this, he was as blunt as he could be and hit a brick wall. “Well, I want to see you more too.”
You roll your eyes gently at that, ignoring the excitement his words illicit, “Toji, we live together.”
Expression sour when he retorts, “It doesn’t feel like it lately.”
It’s cute how he’s almost pouting, it’d be cuter if you didn’t feel completely awful for ghosting him. You still get to see each other throughout the day but you work during the week, and you haven’t been spending much free time with him lately, often opting for going out instead. If avoiding him like this is going to keep making him feel bad you don’t want to keep doing it.
Taking the safe option, you choose to make the time spent together productive, “I’ll be home this weekend… I have a bunch of laundry to do though so it might not be fun.”
His smile is crooked, “Alright… got my eyes on you though, doll,” he means it in a light-hearted way, but you think you’ve actually hurt him.
“Okay…” you wait a moment for him to leave but he doesn’t, you’re still too close to him and he’s not moving. The silence in the room deafening as you can only look at him and wait for his next move.
When he doesn’t say anything, you prompt, “Toji… are you gonna leave?”
“Do you want me to?” His gaze is on your lips, hand reaching to cradle your face and just when you think he might lean in to kiss you, he pecks the top of your head, “Night.” It’s the last thing he says before he disappears into thin air.
Your heart feels like it might explode, beating a mile a minute at how he seemed to almost kiss you. The disappointment that settled in you when he didn’t uncomfortable, were you just reading into things or did he actually want to kiss you.
The covers get pulled up over your head as you grumble to yourself, how the hell are you meant to sleep now… he’s confusing you and it’s so unfair. You’d probably get over your feelings for him if he didn’t also show interest in you like this, he’s giving you hope, and it doesn’t feel good.
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
Ever since the night Toji almost kissed you, it’s all you’ve been able to think about, almost operating like a zombie as you go through the motions at home and at work. Every time you saw him it felt like your skin was on fire, like you might spontaneously burst into flames.
This week has been especially trying because it seems like he actually has been watching you closer than usual. Normally he would give you some more space, but it was almost like every time you were in one of the main areas of the house, he was also there. He’s not the type you’d peg for being clingy but then again, you didn’t take your house to be the haunted kind so what do you know.
Getting lost in your thoughts while fiddling with your poor-quality sink isn’t the best course of action, but it doesn’t seem like you’re making any good choices in life right now. While trying to tighten the faucet by hand, it decides to punish you for being absent minded and sprays water all down your front.
Quickly, you rush to stop the water, all kinds of expletives leave you as your hands slip over the metal. When the water finally stops your hands grab the edge of the counter, slumping against it.
A shiver runs down your spine before you hear him speak, “You really should pay more attention to what you’re doing.”
“It’s not my fault, this sink sucks!” If you had slightly less emotional regulation you might stomp your feet about it all.
He laughs at your frowny face, “I always meant to get it replaced.”
Turning to face him, you huff, “This sink is the bane of my existence.”
“It’s not all bad,” his eyes track down your front, “I did get to see you in a wet shirt because of it.”
“You’re unbearable,” you groan.
“And yet you’ve never tried to exorcise me.”
“You know what, that’s a good option to keep in mind, thanks,” you smile sarcastically at him before wandering down the hall, muttering to yourself, “Well… at least it’s laundry day today I guess…”
Toji is hot on your trail, not speaking, just following you around the house as you collect all your laundry. If you had to describe it, you’d probably say he was hovering, like he’s waiting for you to crack and tell him why you’ve been avoiding him.
You would love to talk to him about what’s bothering you but how exactly does one go about telling the hot ghost that you coexist with that you want to jump his bones, there must be a wiki how page for that online somewhere. The absurdity of the situation is almost enough to make you laugh, almost.
“You in there, doll?” Toji’s voice shocks you back down to Earth.
Dropping the shirt you’d been holding for too long into the washer as you reply, “Hmm? Yeah… I’m here, what’s up?”
“You know you’ve always been a little spacey, but it’s been worse lately.” His head tilts at you, like he’s observing your behaviours.
Throwing a glance his way as you refute, “I am not spacey.”
He looks away from you like he’s avoiding engaging with you on that topic any further, “I’m just asking if you’re okay, Something on your mind?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” dragging out the word as you squint at him.
The exasperated tone he uses is not lost on you, “Then why have you been avoiding me?”
“Didn’t we establish last week that I haven’t been?” Ignoring his stare as you continue to load the washing machine.
“No, we established that you’re lying about not avoiding me.”
The persistence he displays is almost admirable, “You’re annoying.”
“So are you but less so lately,” response quick on his tongue.
“Maybe I’ve reflected on my previous ways and decided to be a better person.” He scoffs at that, and you turn to face him, looking him in the eyes, “What do you want from me?”
“I just wanna know why you don’t spend time with me anymore,” he leans into your space, grin wide and taunting, “You get scared or something?”
“Of you?” brow quirking at him, “Please,” eye roll following your words.
He sighs at you, backing out of your space, “You’re unbearable.”
“That’s my line,” you shoot back, focusing on your laundry again.
A quick hand snatches the garment you’re holding out of your grasp, his attempt at getting your attention back on him. It works because you’re facing him fully now, “You’re childish.”
“Woah,” he looks at what he’s holding like he’s only just noticed what he had grabbed, “These are cute.”
If the ground could swallow you whole, you wish it would happen now because why is your unwanted roommate holding a pair of your panties while smiling at you like the cat that got the canary.
“Toji,” you warn.
He hums back at you, almost indulgent, “Yes, doll?”
“Give them back.”
Dangling your underwear in between the two of you by a single digit, he considers, “I don’t know… I think I like these; I might keep them.”
The expression on your face incredulous, “And what? Wear them?”
“I’m sure I’ll find some use for them,” suggestion written all over his face in a way you wish you weren’t attracted to.
“Toji.” A second warning.
Again, his reply is the same, “Yes, doll?”
“They’re dirty.”
“Really?” He looks to them, “Want me to check?” Hand bringing them close to his face before you snatch them away.
“Don’t be gross!” You chastise him, chucking the panties into the machine with more force than necessary.
Your skin feels hot from embarrassment, how can he be so shameless? It’s uncomfortably quiet in the laundry room as you silently stew while looking down into the washer.
Toji sounds tentative when he speaks, “Are you mad?”
He’s met with an immediate glare at his stupid question, “Well I’m not happy!” Brows pinched and feeling like your head is about to explode when you struggle to get out, “How– how can you be so… so? So shameless.”
“Being dead doesn’t hurt,” he says casually.
You can’t tell if that’s an attempt at humour or if he’s being serious but if you had to guess you’d say it’s a little of both, “I can’t believe I’ve been crushing on you, you’re so embarrassing. What does that say about me? attracted to a shameless ghost who does nothing but embarrass me.”
Your foot has started tapping against the floor with your frustrations, not even registering the blunder you made about outing your crush on him… you know, the thing you’ve been actively avoiding him over just to keep secret.
It’s not until he’s leaning into your space and asking, “You been crushing on me, doll?” That you realise the mistake you’d made.
“What?” You heard him perfectly fine. Only feigning ignorance in an attempt to think of a convincing cover.
There’s pride oozing from him, his grin growing by the second, “You just said–”
“–No, I didn’t,” there is no way to save this and so you fall back on blatantly lying.
He’s revelling in how flustered you are and it’s making it worse, “No, no, I heard you loud and clear. You’ve been crushing on me.”
Your hands move to either side your head, covering your ears as you try to block out what he’s saying, “I can’t hear you; I don’t know what you’re saying.”
Despite your actions, you can hear him perfectly. So, you hear him crystal clear when he borderline taunts, “You have a crush on the ghost haunting your house!”
You don’t say anything back, only staring at him as you wear all your embarrassment on your face.
His smile lessens, replaced by a kinder one, “Is that why you been avoiding me?”
Slowly turning to face him, you drop your hands and give a small nod, feeling all kinds of uncomfortable right now. The fact his immediate reaction was to be amused and prideful has you confused on just what he’s thinking about, does he only find your feelings funny? Does he not take them seriously? Or maybe you’d been overthinking it… it is just a crush after all.
You feel a little guilty over how your feelings have been making you act. He’s literally stuck with you and you’re making it awkward all because you find him attractive, “I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable… but it’s just a crush, I’ll get over it.”
You meant to offer him some kind of relief in saying that, but it doesn’t seem to give him any. A low hum coming from him as he moves in closer. Bending at the waist so he can eye you carefully, getting so close that you avoid his gaze, face hot at his proximity.
“What are you–”
“–You’d just get over me?” He asks. You can’t decipher his intent.
Not able to help the way you fumble over yourself when answering honestly, “I– well… I mean… eventually? Right?”
Almost doubtful when he counters, “And you think I’m just gonna let that happen?”
The way in which he says it takes you aback, eyes meeting his when you utter a succinct, “Stop.”
A singular brow raises at you, “Stop what?”
“Stop flirting with me,” it’s unfair and only serving to confuse you further.
“Why?”
Expression somewhere between a pout and scowl when you grumble, “You are the most exasperating man I have ever had the displeasure of trying to have a conversation with.”
“And yet you have a crush on me,” his eyebrows raise.
Swapping back to denial is your solution, “I just changed my mind; I don’t have a crush on you anymore.”
Still, he flirts, “And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”
“Nope,” you pop the word at him, “All my feelings vanished just like that.”
“That’s a damn shame,” he’s smirking as he looks at your lips before flicking back to your eyes. One of his hands reach to cradle the side of your face, mouth hovering overs yours, so close to kissing you but ultimately not moving any more than that.
Your eyes had closed at the way he leaned in but when you don’t feel his lips on yours you open them to see the way he’s looking down his nose at you, smug smile ever present on his stupid face.
“You’re being cruel,” and he his, he knows it too, it’s entirely purposeful on his behalf and you can only take so much.
His thumb brushes your lower lip gently, still so unbearably close when he asks, “How so?”
“Let me go.” You huff at him, “You’re so distracting, go haunt a different part of the house. I need to finish my laundry.”
“Why are you so stubborn?” His words are accompanied by an eyeroll.
“Why are you so–”
You’re cut off abruptly by his lips colliding with yours, clearly uninterested in further back and forth. Especially since it seems like you’re not willing to give up and just tell him you want him to kiss you. When you’re not immediately pulling away, he’s moving his body closer to yours, other hand large on your back as he pulls you towards him.
Lips so much more careful than you would’ve expected of him. Searching and relentless but not rough, not yet anyways. Your hands move to his shoulders and grip him, giving into him completely, his kiss taking your breath away.
The hand on the side of your face is manoeuvring you how he likes, wanting to deepen the kiss. Tongue licking into your mouth, it sends shivers down your spine, involuntary moan leaving you.
You aren’t really registering it but he’s walking you back, sandwiching you between the washing machine and his large body. Hand previously on the small of your back now on your hip, pulling at your flesh. Then slipping it under your shirt and resting against your skin, his touch eliciting goose bumps.
He tilts your head back and trails his lips down your neck, nipping at you as he goes. Your pants filling the room, small and quiet moans mixed in with your breaths. You can hardly think, too focused on how it feels to have him touching you.
Suddenly gasping a moan when he bites at your neck a little harder than you were expecting, your thighs rubbing together at it. His movements grow more frenzied, lips back on yours in full force, tongue in your mouth depriving you of your air.
So much so that you have to push him back by his shoulders, chest moving rapidly as you catch your breath. Eyes wet and glassy when you look up at him, brows pulled up as you struggle to focus in on his face.
“Sorry, I got a bit carried away,” he’s staring at you, awestruck by the stupid look on your face.
You ignore his apology, “Kiss me again? Please?”
“How can I refuse when you ask like that?” The answer is he couldn’t, not when your eyes are all glassy from his lips.
The kiss is messy and despite the coolness of him, hot. Your arms are wrapped around his neck now, pulling him down into you. Both his hands on your hips, playing with the waistband of your pants, fingers tickling against your skin.
Parting to speak against your ear, “You gonna let me touch you, doll?”
Nodding at him, “Yeah…”
He hums at you thoughtfully, “You crushing on me again or am I imagining the hearts in your eyes right now?”
“You ruin everything– ah–” words interrupted by his hand slipping into the front of your pants and underwear.
His fingers slip through your folds, tracing your clit softly,  “Am I still ruining everything?”
“Oh!– noo, no you’re not,” your words are breathless as you shake your head, not wanting him to stop.
“You know…” his grin is sly as he speaks to you lowly, “You’re awfully wet for someone you don’t have a crush on.”
Wanting him to stop talking, you turn your head and kiss him. Your tongue sliding into his mouth, the kiss desperate and chaotic. Lips connected by a string of saliva when you pull back.
Your words are saturated in sarcasm but completely true, “I have a big fat crush on you, Toji, are you happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” he smiles brightly, finger probing at your entrance, “In fact, I might just reward you.” As he finishes his sentence, his digit is pushing into you, biting his lip at how you gasp against him. “You know, you’re really cute like this, all breathless and struggling to take a finger.”
“Such a mean ghost,” you sulk.
“You’re meaner, avoiding me all because of a stupid crush,” his finger crooks inside you, almost knocking you over, “If you’d just told me about it we could’ve had fun so much sooner, you been depriving me of this sweet cunt.”
Your legs are feeling shaky under you, “How was I supposed to– hah– know?”
“I flirt with you relentlessly and follow you around all day like a damn puppy and you think I don’t wanna fuck you?” He chuckles humourlessly, “Shit, doll, if you needed it to be more obvious all you had to do was tell me.” A second finger joins his first, scissoring them to open you up, “I’d drop to my knees just to please you.”
His words make you dizzy, the idea of him on his knees and lapping at your pussy damn near capable of killing you. Your stomach flutters with butterflies at how willing he is to make you feel good.
He can feel the way your cunt clenches down on his fingers, his chest squeezing with how reactive you are to him, “Oh? You liked that, doll? Like the idea of me licking your pussy?”
“I need you, please,” your lip quivers, shudders running through your body at how his thumb rubs over your clit.
A single peck is pressed to your wobbly lower lip, “You already got me.”
“Noo– oh God–” You’re trying so hard to get your words out but he’s touching you so insistently, his fingers reaching all the perfect spots so effortlessly you might go blind. Your head rolls back as you gasp out, nails clawing down the front of his chest.
Slurred words and jumbled moans leaving you as his hand speeds up. It’s an active effort to get out, “Wan– want your– ah! dick, please.”
He laughs like he’s had the wind knocked out of him, “Only ever need to ask.” His hand is drawing back from your core, a pathetic whimper leaving you at the loss. “Turn around for me, doll.”
You do as he says, turning around to face the washing machine, one of his hands reaching forward to shut the lid. His body moves in close behind you, his front pressing into your back, firm erection against your ass.
His lips brush against your ear, “Hold on and bend over.”
“You’re so demanding,” you mutter as you do what he says.
He counters, “And you’re so obeying.” You can feel the air of his smugness radiating from behind you.
Both his hands tug at your pants, slowly pulling them down your body until they drop onto the floor. You can’t help but feel exposed and impatient, your panties stuck to your core with the arousal that drips from you. Toji’s finger creeps into the gusset, pulling them back before letting go, teasing you for his own enjoyment.
Straightening up, you try to turn to face him and tell him off for being a massive tease but he’s too close to you. An arm is wrapping around your front as his head tucks into your neck, “You going somewhere?”
“I thought since you seem to be indecisive I’d leave while you think about your next move,” you bite back.
He’s pushing your front back down, “You always this impatient?”
“You always this big a tease?” Your hands reach out to hold the machine again.
“Always got something to say don’t you?”
“Toji, I’m so wet and needy and if you don’t do something soon I’m going to finish without you and I’ll make you watch.”
Quietly and under his breath, he utters, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Before you get a chance to spin around and question him on that further, he’s pulled his pants down and your panties to the side. His cock head stretching you open, your fist slams down into the washer as you struggle to accommodate his size. Stuttered gasps and whines leaving you as he presses forward inch by inch. One of your hands has to reach back and rest on his pelvis, stopping him, needing a moment to catch your breath and get used to taking his size.
You pant out to him, “Wh– what did you mean?”
“Fffuck–” he’s struggling to maintain focus when you’re gripping him that tightly, “What?”
You’re trying to control your breathing as you ask again, “What did you mean by ‘wouldn’t be the first time’?”
“Doll, I’ve been in this house since long before you moved in,” he leans down to you, his lips brushing against your ear, “I’ve seen you fucking yourself with your toys.”
Involuntary whimper leaving you, your hips rutting back into him, “You’re such a perv.”
“Oh yeah, the fuckin biggest,” he groans at how your pussy flutters around him, “Loved when you would come home high and dry from a date, your cunt drenching your dildo with just how needy you were, squirming in your bed while fucking yourself.”
You hate how turned on you are at the thought of him watching you masturbate, “Move, please.” Hand moving away, giving him room.
He’s drawing back only to fuck his hips forwards, “Hnnn– and now I get to see how you coat my cock, such a messy fucking thing.”
Toji’s hips falter at how your cunt sucks him in, so greedy and sopping wet that it’s making his head spin. He can’t tell if it’s been too long or if you’ve got the best pussy he’s ever fucked but it’s probably somewhere in between and he can’t be bothered to think too hard about it right now.
“Is it– hah– is it nearly in?” You whine back at him, not sure how much more of him you can fit.
He’s steadily rocking his cock into you, filling you more each time he thrusts forward, “Not– not quite.”
Maybe you should let him take the lead with this but you’re impatient and horny and he’s taking too long and you just want him so deep inside you that you feel him in your guts. So, in your fuzzy brain, you decide it’s a good idea to fuck your hips back as he moves forward. He bottoms out, his pelvis slapping into your ass but you’re left breathless, squirming as you grapple with how full of him you are.
“Oh my God– what– why are you so– hng– why are you big?” Tears spring to the corners of your eyes, feeling so completely overwhelmed. Pussy twitching around him as your legs shake.
He can’t believe you’d done that, letting out a long-drawn-out groan like he’d been gut punched, “Fuck– greedy fucking thing, you couldn’t– hnn– couldn’t wait for it? Was trying to take it easy on you and your tight little hole.”
His cock is jerking violently inside you, so unbelievably turned on. Your cunt snug around his dick nearly has him believing this is his heaven and you’re his own personal angel. He’d take it for truth if the sight of your hole stretched around him weren’t so sinful, your panties tugged to the side and soaked.
His voice is strained when he checks in, “You good, doll?”
“Mhm, yeah I– mmph– I’m good,” you’re giving him the go ahead, punctuating your words with your hips wiggling back into him. It almost knocks him out, seeing the way your ass jiggles.
His hands are gripping your hips tight, holding you still as he draws back. His first thrust ruthless, forcing you forward, brain taking a second to realise that the loud moan reverberating in the room was you.
“You’re gonna be the second death of me,” he says through stifled grunts.
You are completely lacking in any kind of retort to throw back at him, only able to dumbly hum at him so he knows you heard him. The way he’s driving his dick into you has you twitching and scratching at the lid of the washer, almost embarrassed by how drunk on his cock you are.
There are so many thoughts in your head and also none at all, “Toji, it feels so– oh!– feels so good– I can’t–”
“You’re doing so good, taking it all so well,” he sounds wrecked, words breaking off at the end. “Pussy so fucking– ffuck– so creamy– ohhh–”
Toji’s eyes stay locked on how you take him, chest fluttering at how he’s fucked you open. Cock drenched in your slick, dripping down your legs. So relentless in his pursuit that he just knows your ass is gonna hurt tomorrow from the consistent smack! smack! Of his pelvis slapping into you. Not even a question of if his finger marks will be imprinted onto your hips, the memory of him fucking you so well something he’s not going to let you forget.
He finally has you full and squirming under him, he’s not going to let it be a forgettable experience. Determined to fuck you so good that you’re begging him to do it all over again. He already wasn’t going to let you go but especially not now, not when having you feels this fucking divine. The borderline obsession he feels for you growing by the second, fuelled by how pliant you are for him.
All his thoughts are coming a million miles a second, all of them about you and how bad he’s wanted you, how ecstatic he is that he’s finally balls deep inside you. “You’re so perfect, feel so– hnng– feel so perfect–”
“Careful Toji– hah– I might think you like me,” you joke at him.
The smirk he’s wearing can be felt even though you can’t see him, his laugh short, “Oh I fucking looove you, pretty thing. You’re never getting rid of me.”
You don’t know if that confession is one you can take seriously or if he’s just severely pussy drunk but its effect on you doesn’t change, your cunt clamping down around him as your chest stutters. The tears you had been holding back finally slipping down your cheeks, so overwhelmed you’re seeing stars, hell, you might be hearing things.
His hand reaches to your face and squishes your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pulling you back to him, your back arching lewdly for him. His tongue licking at the tears tracking down your face, “Crying over my dick, doll?” His words are laced with a sickening kind of affection for you, “So sweet for me.”
His other hand grabs at the bend of your knee, pulling it up. Despite your shaky hands still resting on the washer, all your weight is basically being supported by him. Your head falls back onto his chest  He uses the access to kiss you messily, tongue licking at yours, swallowing down the moans you let out.
Still, his hips drill into you, never letting up for even a second. Obscene squelching sounds of him fucking your gooey cunt filling the room, followed by the sharp slaps of skin hitting skin. Your stomach is pulling taut, getting so fucking close to finishing, vision blurred by all the tears in your waterline.
“Don’t fight it,” he murmurs into your skin, encouraging you, “Let it– fuck!– let it happen.”
“Feels– feels too– ah!– it feels different,” it feels too good, too much, “You need to­– need to stop, it doesn’t feel right.”
It sounds like he gets excited, not even a little concerned, “You’re doing so good, doll.”
“It’s not right–”
“–It’s fine,” he tries to offer comfort, “Trust me.”
Your legs shake violently, the build-up of your orgasm foreign and like it might have you passing out. As different as it feels, you trust him and let it happen, let yourself get fucked over the edge and into bliss. Your orgasm rips through you, moans tumbling freely and loudly, your body shaking from the force of it. Temporarily it feels like you lose sight, unseeing but feeling your cold tears against your hot cheeks.
Cunt clenching down, hard, on his dick, coating him completely in your cum. Body twitching with the shocks of your orgasm, head full and spinning. With the amount of blood rushing in your ears, you can’t hear what he’s saying. Only after a few moments have passed are you able to begin barley making out what he’s saying.
“Fffuck– that’s it, look at that,” Toji can’t hide the absolute pleasure in his voice even if he tried to, completely ecstatic at the sight before him.
You’re breathless and limp, letting him hold your lower half up, head lolling against his chest. Able to feel the vibrations of his moans against you, in a way it’s soothing to you.
“Doll, look down,” he prompts, hand guiding you down.
You whine in protest but look down anyways, an absolute mess everywhere. Lower halves drenched after your orgasm. “Oh my–” when he lets go of your cheeks, your head flops back onto his chest, head spinning.
“Hah– squirted everywhere,” he smiles into your skin, “All for me– hnn–”
He’s in love with the fact he’s managed to get you to cum like that without even really trying, his ego getting a boost he surely didn’t need. His own orgasm so close it bites at his skin, his hand gripping your thigh tight, pulling at your flesh. Free hand sliding under your shirt and grabbing at your breast, shamelessly groping you.
Shudders wracking his body as he cums suddenly, almost taken off guard by how quickly it happens. Cock twitching as he dumps his seed deep inside you, taking a moment to breathe before pulling back slowly, watching as his dick leaves you covered in both your orgasms.
Carefully, he places your leg back down on the ground, leaving you to stand on your own only for your legs to wobble and almost give out under you. If Toji hadn’t been right behind you, you would’ve fallen to the floor. He pulls your panties back into place before hoisting you up onto the washing machine, letting you sit while he puts his dick back into his pants.
You watch him move, all dazed and fucked out, pleasantly placated. His eyes meeting yours when he’s fully clothed, a big smile spreading across his face when he sees the mess he’s made of you.
Leaning in towards you, he asks, “Still got that big fat crush on me?”
“Uhm… I don’t know…” you pretend to think about it, like you don’t know if you like him or not.
He gives you a quick and soft kiss, “How about now?”
“I think… maybe,” you smile lazily at him.
His brow raises, “Maybe?”
“Yeah… definitely maybe still have a big fat crush on you,” you nod once, sure.
He’s grinning when he sighs, “You’re unbearable.”
“That’s my line,” you retort.
You’re both playing dumb but you both know you got it bad for each other and Toji is not going to let you get away with avoiding him again. Not after he’s gotten a taste of you.
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𝐀/𝐍: this took longer than what i said it would and i'm sorry for that but i also was only planning for this to be a drabble... i have issues ToT anyways !! i hope you enjoyed !! happy almost halloween !!
[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision
★ ⁝ my works are not to be used for AI under any circumstances
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papaya-twinks · 9 days ago
Text
games night - l.n
Warnings: Smut, 18+, stripping, praise, teasing, swearing, choking, spanking, fingering, handjob, blowjob, oral (f and m receiving)
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
A/N - inspired by Sam Bird’s post coz 👀 also IDK how poker works 😭 also it kinda went from strip poker to just…sex card games *sigh*
“And if I win?” Lando asked, examining his hand as he sat across the little coffee table, the room illuminated by a few candles and a little lamp on the other side, the curtains drawn as you hummed. Silently, you placed another stack of cards onto the middle of table. 
Lando raised his brow, watching your movements as he lifted a card, putting it back down immediately. “Y/N…you’re dirty,” he said, but the glint of excitement and…lust was evident in his eye, his cheek tinged red with the filthy words written hook that card. 
You looked good, your winter pyjamas slipping and sliding down your body, not hiding much, and god, it had Lando wanting to claw your damn clothes off and push you against the wall, his hands reaching the points that made your toes curl and those pretty little moans-
“Just wanted to spice it up,” you said, batting your eyelashes as Lando rolled his eyes, examining the playing cards in his hand. (PRETEND POKER WORKS LIKE THIS, I’VE NEVER PLAYED). “You’re done, Y/L/N,” Lando smirked, putting down his set.
You scoffed, placing down your own cards - better than his. “Well, look at that, Norris,” you said as his cheeks turned pink, not having expected to lose so early on into the game but hey, you’d both always been competitive, he should’ve expected it.
He was about to reach for a card from the pile, his hand moved away by yours. “That’s not how it works,” you explained, “we have to strip first, and whoever’s naked first loses,” you giggled, “and then we start with the cards,”.
Lando grumbled under his breath, before he smirked, slowly removing his socks. You rolled your eyes, once again, taking your cards and shuffling them, taking out another hand. “Strip, baby,” Lando snickered, placing his down atop yours.
You rolled your eyes at his smugness, removing the bow from the back of your yes. “Oh c’mon, Y/N!” Lando groaned, “that barely counts as clothing!” he whined but you weren’t having it, merely shrugging and taking another hand.
The match was quite fun, from both of you finding ways to remove clothing without losing, until you were in just your bra, pajama bottoms and panties, and Lando was in his joggers only - then it got serious.
“Oh fuck off!” Lando groaned, throwing his cards onto the table as he looked down at his body. “You won,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “How?” you asked, raising a brow, before your cheeks filled with colour.
“Not wearing anything underneath?” you asked, a smirk threatening to form on your lips as Lando rolled his eyes, slowly peeling his joggers down, his thighs flexing as he sat back down, cheeks red and gaze on the floor from the exposure.
“Cute,” you said, unclipping your bra, immediately drawing Lando’s attention back to you, watching as you stripped, in nothing but your panties. “C’mon, pick a card,” you said, chewing on your lip, watching him take a card from the pile labelled ‘Lando’ under a post it note.
Groaning, Lando flipped the card round, showing you the words etched onto it; Get some head for 20 seconds. Oh this was going to be torturous. You giggling, moving between his legs, his thighs pushed apart by your palms, cock already hard.
Just the feeling of your warm breath across his aching member made him almost whimper, his cock twitching as you giggled, taking his member into your mouth, inching him against your warm tongue, the vein throbbing on the underside of his dick.
“Fuck, just like that,” Lando grunted airily, his hand coming to your hair, sliding the strands behind your ear as he bobbed your head. He groaned as you mumbled something ageisnt his length, pointing to the card again, as he squinted.
‘And no touching’. For fucks’ sake. Lando resisted the urge to buck his hips into your mouth, his hand falling form yout hair as he grumbled, almost reluctant to release you. “Fuck,” he choked out once you moved back, his hips bucking for friction.
A string of salvia connected your tongue to his cock as you pulled back, a giggle on your lips, as you moved to your own pile of cards. “Fun, isn’t it?” you giggled, “better than just doing some Monopoloy or whatever,”.
Lando nodded, almost fervently, his cheeks stained red with need and lust, watching the supple skin of your breasts bounce as you moved to reach for a card, his gaze never leaving your damn perfect body.
‘Get choked for 10 seconds’. You pouted, leaning forwards as you huffed. “Nowhere near as fun as yours,” you said, moving your hair from your neck as Lando wrapped his fingers round your neck, applying just enough pressure to hear your pretty moans.
You giggled once he let go, the blood rushing back down from your cheeks, as you sat back down on your heels. “This is about to be the best fucking night of your life,” Lando said, slowly taking his card from the stack.
Your core was throbbing with need, his cock painfully hard against his abdomen, and the proximity of your bodies, right on the other side of the coffee table yet you couldn’t touch…fuck it was getting harder and harder by the second.
“What does it say?” you asked, peeking over his hand as he flicked your cheek, pushing you back as you huffed. “Well, this one’s fun,” eh smirked, flipping it out to show you. ‘Get a handjob for 30 seconds’. Well, Lando looked smug.
“No fair, all of yours are good ones,” you said, your voice almost a whine as Lando snickered. “Yeah, now c’mon, 30 seconds,” he said, bucking his hips into your hand as you rolled your eyes, slowly easing your palm against his shaft.
“They should make these shorter - you look like you’d cum in 10 seconds-,” you giggled, earning a little pinch of your nipple, a squeak coming from your lips. “Watch it,” he said, watching your hand moved up and down his member.
“C’mon baby,” Lando groaned, leaning back and resting his body weight on his arms, his biceps flexing, “both hands, don’t be lazy,”. You hummed, adding your second hand, thumb teasing at his head as he moaned.
“Look at that,” Lando said, his eyes on your hands, dragging up and down his cock, the nails he’d paid for you to get done looking ever-so gorgeous across his thick, tall cock, twitching in your palm, the vein throbbing.
The constant teasing, edging him closer and closer to the edge before the stupid time limit ran out, it was driving him crazy, and he’d make sure you’d pay for it, by pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body. Boy, was he excited.
“God, you fucking…” Lando groaned, throwing his head back as you let go, his cock twitching from the lack of contact, his tip throbbing and leaking with pre-cum as you took your own card, an excited grin on your face.
‘Get fingered for 30 seconds’. Lando scoffed at the words, a smile on his lips. “Only 30?” he raised a brow, “it takes me damn near 30 minutes to stretch you out proper for my cock,”. You blushed, hitting his chest as he slowly moved your thighs apart.
“Just shut up and take it, yeah?” he said, moving your panties to the side, pushing one finger into your tight cunt, your core almost embarrassingly easy to slide into, your juices coating his digit like a damn hose, as he started pumping your core, curling his digit.
“F-Fuck,” you gasped, clinging onto his shoulders as your toes curled, your orgasm somehow already close, edging closer and closer. “Gonna cum in 30 seconds?” Lando snickered - he had ten seconds left.
“Look who’s being a desperate little slut now,” Lando said, pushing his finger knuckle deep inside of you as you mooned, head falling back as your back arched. “F-Fuck you, Lando,” you gasped breathlessly as he pulled his digit out, the sound lewd and wet.
“I’ll fuck you soon, just be patient,” he said, clicking his tongue as you rolled your eyes, cheeks bright red and warm as he pulled a card. “Oh?” he said, his eyes scanning the words - he was having fun, you could tell that much.
‘Wild Card - 30 seconds of whatever you desire’. You groaned, the little smirk on his lips showing exactly what he was thinking. “Get that little mouth here,” he said, pushing your hair back and directing your head down to his throbbing cock.
“Oh fuck, that’s it,” he said, his hands holding your cheeks as he directed your head up an down, your cheek bulging with his dick, warm tongue lapping at his tip. “Don’t take it out, I know you can do this,” Lando groaned, eyes fluttering closed.
You mumbled against his cock, voice muffled against his shaft as he kept your head moving, eyes watering at the strain, before he finally let you pull back, wiping the salvia from your chin and pressing a soft yet firm kiss to your lips.
“Seems like ‘m gettin’ the better luck in this game,” Lando said, his warm breath splaying across your skin, “one more round and then we can move on,”. You nodded, regaining your breath as Lando brushed your hair from your face.
“Take your card, baby,” he said, pushing your pile towards you as you nodded, sliding one off. ‘He’ll go down on you for 50 seconds’. Lando smirked, impressed, as he pulled you closer to him by your thighs, gripping your supple flesh.
“Lucky you,” he smirked, settling between your legs as you braced for the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive clit - and once again, no matter how many times he’d go down on you, it always felt so much better the next time.
You gasped, moaning as he slid his fingers under the waistband if your panties, snapping it against your skin as he used one hand to hold the material to the side, his tongue licking through your folds, nose pressing against your clit.
“L-Lan…fuck,” you choked out, back falling against the side of the sofa as you gripped his curls, twisting them round your fingers as he groaned, the sound rumbling through your core, your back arching. “Oh my- fuck, Lando,” you moaned, eyes rolling.
His grip on your thighs was near-painful, and he’d definitely leave bruises, but it wasn’t like he cared - he’d purposefully left bruises all over your neck so you some guy who had been ogling you would finally leave off - this was Lando you were talking about.
“Lando, fuck, the-the 50 seconds are up,” you said, looking at the timer on the table, your eyes wide, but he kept on going. You could basically hear his thoughts - ‘fuck the rules’ - as he licked and kissed through your folds, like a man starved.
He’d vowed to make you cum more than once, and he was a man of his word. “Lando, fuck, shit!” you gasped, eyes rolling as his tongue put heavy pressure on your clit, before poking at your entrance, bullying his way into you.
You moaned again, your eyes rolling as he moved back, pushing his middle finger knuckle-deep inside of you, resuming his teasing of your poor clit, tongue lapping up your juices as you squeezed your thighs, legs tightening round his head.
Lando hummed, pushing his free hand between your thigh and his head, giving him some space to breathe as your toes curled, eyes rolling. Your bright cheeks indicated how close you were as he sped up his finger movements.
“Fuck, Lan!” you gasped, body shaking as your orgasm hit like a damn train, your toes curling, legs spasming slightly as you clutched onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he hummed, massaging your thighs.
You whined at the loss of contact as he moved away, still desperate, but he was quick to push you onto the sofa, your body tangled against his as he pulled your panties down, damn near tearing the garment from your body.
“Fuck,” Lando moaned against your body as he took your breath into his mouth, kneading the skin below his lips as you whimpered, eyes fluttering closed, toes curling. Well, games’ night had turned out to be a lot more fun than you’d thought it would be.
“Lando, fuck, I…I need you,” you moaned, his cock pushing against yours thighs, almost like he was trying to get off from just that. He nodded, hands moving feverishly as he pumped himself, aligning his tip with your core.
“Lando, don’t be a tease,” you whined, only to be shut up as he pushed fully in, sheathing his cock inside of you as you moaned, gripping onto his shoulders. “Fuck, that’s it,” Lando said, pressing a messy, open-mouthed kiss to your neck.
“Please, I need you,” you gasped as he hummed, reaching one hand round the front of you to toy with your clit, your head falling onto a sofa cushion as he pulled out, leaving just his head in, before bottoming again.
You moaned again, eyes rolling as he repeated the action, the sound of his cock plunging into your embarrassingly wet heat sending a thrill of pleasure up your spine, along with the pad of his thumb flicking over your slick bundle of nerves.
“Fuckin’ tight, aren’t you?” he groaned, your cunt clenching round his thick member, the vein along the bottom throbbing against your entrance before he started moving properly, his hips snaps against yours almost forcefully.
He fucked half of his length into you, one hand bunching tight into your hair, the other resting on your thigh as he moved, your pussy strangling his cock, your hips moving to try and take all of him, earning yourself a sharp smack on your thigh.
“Behave,” he said warningly, “you ain’t in charge,” he pulled your hair to one side, pressing a firm kiss to your pulse point before sucking a dark, harsh hickey into your skin, his hips pivoting ageing your body as he groaned.
Just when you thought he’d maxed himself out in his pace, he’s go quicker somehow, his hips moving like a jackhammer, the stamina you were god thankful for pushing him to keep up the blistering pace, his cock ravaging your core.
You were dizzy, breathless as he kept filling up your pussy with short, harsh strokes. Heavy grunts and growls accompanied the wet sounds of your sloppy hole getting fucked as he worked himself into a frenzy, your moans turning to squeaks.
His hips were moving to fast, ploughing in and out of you, you were sure you’d have bruises, and the ability to walk would be nothing but a damn myth to you. “You’re my little whore, ain’t ya?” Lando groaned breathlessly as you nodded fervently, eyes rolling.
For the second time today, your core clenched round him as your orgasm flooded through your body, your legs shaking. “Fuck ‘m not finished with you just yet,” Lando said, pulling his cock out as you whined, your body in his arms.
He was quick with his movements, stroking his cock as he pushed you over the coffee table, sliding into your entrance again, your core wet and easy to enter from your orgasms and your need. “Fuck, just like that,” he grunted.
He repeated the same process he’d started with, sliding the base of his dick in and out of you, her moans muffled against the cushion. “It’s so big, Lan,” you said quietly. He started picking up pace, going from rocking to pounding as you cried out, eyes rolling back softly. 
At this rate, he was going to leave a mark. Maybe more than that - there was nothing heard in the room except your moans and whimpers, his groans and the sound of his hips hitting your back. This man, he’d be the death of you. Or, well, your cunt.
His movements were calculated yet messy - rough, hard pumping as your tits jumped up, your eyes rolling back as you moaned, his cock drilling into your body in well-practised ways, knowing exactly where your sensitive g-spot was.
“Lando!” you cried, head falling back as he continued to yank your hair, adding pain to the pleasure. His finger reached back down, toying gently with your body as he continued to overstimulate you, body shaking.
Your third orgasm hit harder, body shaking once more as he held you stable, his cock resting inside of you as his own orgasm came through, cum pooling down your thighs and seeping into your tight core, your pussy pulsing round him.
He pulled out in one swift movement, his hand coming to brush your hair from your face, the room smelling of sweat and sex as he held you, lifting you from the coffee table, your tits bouncing as he did so. “How was that?” he asked softly.
“Intense,” you said truthfully, not even trying to cover it up as he laughed, shaking his head. “Didn’t mean to be so rough, baby,” eh said honestly, “just…cant help myself,” he added as you laughed tiredly, smiling.
“C’mon, there’s chocolate chip cookies in the cupboard,” you said, standing up shakily as Lando steadied you. “Careful now - you should know not to walk after I’ve done that to you, you’d had practise,” he teased as you blushed. “Whatever!” you giggled.
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landopoet · 2 days ago
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clandestine.
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pairing coworker!lando x intern!reader
warnings implications of sex, dirty talk
synopsis your hot one night stand from the other night turns out to be not only a famous racer, but also your coworker.
author’s note heavily inspired by the dynamic MerDer have in grey’s anatomy… some conversations were recycled from the show. also! special thanks to @clovermoters for being my proofreader and biggest support with all my fics <3 love u. enjoy!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“Hey, psst, wake up.”
It’s already bright and sunny outside, the curtains doing absolutely nothing from stopping the sunlight from blinding you. The curly-haired, absolute beauty of a man sleeping soundly next to you, however, seems to not be bothered by it at all.
He only opens his eyes when you rip the covers off of him and get out of bed, panicking to collect your clothes from your own bedroom floor. “C’mon, you have to go.”
“Huh, why?” He turns over to lay on his back, not at all bothered by his goodies being on full display. Not that you didn’t get an eye-ful of them last night, anyway.
You stand up straight and give him an annoyed grumble. “I’ve my first day of work today and I’ll be damned if I let a man be the reason I’m late for it.”
He leans up on his elbows, watching with half-lidded eyes as you bend down to pick up your shirt. “Let’s not forget that this man was making you scream last night.”
“Whatever.” You grumble again. “Just go.”
The stranger shrugs and gets up, immediately finding his clothes and tugging on his boxers. “What’s the new job?”
“Photography intern.” A hiss leaves your lips as you brush your fingers through your hair, no time to actually find a hairbrush. Maybe a claw clip could do the job for today. “Paid, before you ask.”
“I wasn’t going to.” The sound of a belt being buckled draws your attention back to him. Your eyes drift upwards, following his happy trail up to his abdomen. The man, proud and egotistical, watches as you ogle.
“I never caught your name,” you finally peel your eyes away from his chest and look at his green eyes.
He bites back a smirk and extends a hand towards you. “Lando.”
Lando’s big hand embraces yours, sending a shiver down your spine that you were far too familiar with for the past eighteen hours. “Y/n.”
He watches as you tightly clutch the sheets to your chest, hiding yourself from him, as if he hadn’t explored every inch of your body just a few hours prior. “Last night was-“
“You should go.” You reiterate, a little rude but it gets Lando that much more interested in how quickly your mood changes. “Please.”
Lando gives you a tight-lipped nod before gathering the last of his stuff, keys to a McLaren jingling in his palm as he waves to you by the door. “I’ll see you around.”
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
With just a few minutes to spare, you enter the meeting room and you’re met with six other people, all dressed in bright orange shirts with black details. “Morning,” you smile and take a seat at the large table.
Your supervisor, a woman with narrow and threatening eyes, watches you for a few seconds before turning her attention back to the board. She explains what you’ll be doing at McLaren and what your main concerns should be. Easy.
That is until you’re following an employee around with your camera tightly clutched in hand and you see him. He’s standing by the elevator, looking down at his phone and you’re panicking. You turn on your heel and walk the other way, but the employee you’ve been shadowing calls out for you.
“Y/n, where the hell are you going?”
Lando’s head shoots up at the mention of your name and he watches as your eyes flicker between the other person and him. He gives you a small smile and shakes his head. “Incredible,” he mumbles to himself.
You turn back around, bottom lip between your teeth and you clutch your camera closer to your chest. “Uh, I was, uhm… Bathroom.”
“You just went.” Lexi, the brown-haired employee, cocks her head to the side, evidently confused. You sigh, realising that there was no way to avoid Lando and that you’d have to speak to him eventually anyway.
“Right, sorry.” You nod and make your way back to her. And, unluckily for you, she’s already standing next to Lando, making small talk. You notice her tucking her hair behind her ear, a sign of her being very into Lando, and you roll your eyes.
She turns to you, “this is my intern.”
You awkwardly raise a hand and give him one wave, a less-than-pleased smile on your face. “Lovely to meet you, I’ve heard great things.”
“As have I,” Lando smiles at you with amusement stitched into every crevice of his face. Lexi gives you both a weird look before her phone rings and she rolls her eyes.
“I’ve got to go, Y/N, go upstairs and take a left to office 203. I need you to upload the pictures from your camera to the hard drive on the table,” you nod at her instructions and watch as her whole demeanor changes when she turns to Lando. “I’ll see you around, bye, Lan.”
The man next to you gives her a wink and she lets out a noise that sounds something like a mix between a giggle and a gasp. An eye-roll seems to be your go-to expression whenever you’re near Lando.
The two of you watch as she runs off with her phone in hand, something clearly more important taking her away from her responsibilities. The elevator dings and Lando gestures for you to go first. Once you step in, you’re trying your best to look everywhere but at him, despite your body practically gravitating towards the man.
He’s the first to break the silence. “You could’ve told me you were interning at McLaren.”
“You could’ve told me you worked at McLaren.” You bite your lip to hide how uncomfortable you are.
“The car wasn’t enough of a hint?” Lando turns to you as a small laugh leaves his lips. Fuck, his lips. You haven’t been able to get him out of your head and thoughts of kissing him have been clouding your mind all day. It’s infuriating how much of an effect he has on you without even doing anything. “When do you get off? I’d like to grab a bite after work, if you’re interested.”
You sigh and rub your eyes. “Do you fuck every young woman you work with?”
Your eyes finally find his and you watch as he frowns, confused. “Excuse me?”
“Lexi. Have you slept with her, too?” You knit your arms together and wonder when the hell this elevator stops so you could leave. The lack of air in the confined space made you that much more upset.
His pretty, soft and pink lips pull into a smirk. “Are you implying that I’m some kind of a whore?”
“If the boot fits, wear it.” You hiss and the elevator door dings open. Lando watches as you storm off, the smirk never leaving his face.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
The first few days of your internship went by well.
You managed to steer clear of Lando’s path, the only time you ever interacted with him being for pictures and in the company of other staff. Despite being so confident in shutting him down a few days ago, you couldn’t deny feeling… something.
Still, that something was highly unprofessional and had very slim chances of actually working out, considering your schedules.
You’re only interning at McLaren for a few months, hoping to add to your portfolio, before you open up your own photography studio. It’s been a dream of yours since you were little and you’ve already achieved so much, you couldn’t let that dream go even if McLaren offered you a full-time job.
The elevator dings at your floor and you step out, trying to focus up and get on with a new work day. Lexi said you could make yourself comfortable in one of the meeting rooms on the second floor, as there weren’t many offices available at that time.
So, room 304 has become your own little office.
You’ve put up some of your stuff on the large table, like a succulent and some stationary. It’s organised, neat, yet still has a touch of you to it. You’ve found that this office has become a sort of safe haven, guaranteeing you as little contact with Lando as possible.
Except, when you open the door to your office, Lando’s sitting in the chair and spinning in it like a child.
“Oh, fuck.” A gasp escapes your lips as you clutch your chest, feeling the rapid pace of your heart. “What the hell? What are you doing here?”
Lando’s head whips around to look at you and he smiles that same annoying smile that gets your blood rushing. “Oh, hey. Lex told me I’d find you here.”
“Find me here?” You ask as you make your way over to the table and set your bag down. “Are you stalking me, Norris?”
The curly-haired man starts spinning in the chair again, closely examining the cat figurine he plucked right off of your cozy side of the table. “Ah, yes, because I have nothing better to do than to stalk you.”
“I’m starting to believe that’s true.” You roll your eyes, taking a seat at the laptop you’ve just taken out of your bag. “What do you want?”
“You.” He says, absentmindedly, as he’s looking up at the ceiling and you hate that your eyes automatically gravitate to his neck. Lando clears his throat and sits up straight. “The photos you took of me a few days ago. I want to post them to my Instagram and I was wondering if you could send a few over to me.”
Silly of you to think that he’d come bother you because he simply wanted to bother you. Sure, the banter and persistence of the devilishly handsome man annoyed you to your core, but you couldn’t deny that you liked it. There’s something about how wrong this is that feels so right.
Lando watched as you typed away on your laptop. “I assume you have my email already.”
“Yep,” you nodded. “I’ll edit them and send them over.”
“Alright, thanks.” He stands up and makes his way to the door. Before he opens it, he turns back to you and, with a playful smirk, asks, “dinner’s still a no-go?”
“I’m not going to dinner with you, Lando.” You wave him off. “Now leave, please. I've got work to do.”
“See you later, boss.” He hums as the door shuts behind him and you put your head in your hands.
“For both of our sake, I wish you didn’t.” You whisper under your breath before composing yourself and continuing your photo editing.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
The elevator dings at the ground floor.
“So,” Lexi says as you both enter the elevator. Lexi is the type of girl who tells it as it is, no bullshit, no sugarcoating, pure honesty. So, when she gives you a look— the look, —you wonder what you’ve done now. “What’s with you and Norris?”
“Wha-“ You choke on air. “Me and- and who? What, sorry?” Lexi has to hide her amusement as you fumble over your words. “I don’t- There’s not… No, nothing.”
The brunette in front of you just shakes her head with a laugh. “Right, so he looks at you like he’s seen you naked for absolutely no reason, then?”
Once again, you can’t seem to get any words out so you just look at her. A blank stare straight into her brown, intimidating eyes.
Lexi crosses her arms over her chest and fully turns to you. “Listen, I know you know I like him. I also know there’s something between you two.” She says in a tone you can’t seem to read. “So, please, tell me everything so I could live vicariously through you.”
“Oh, uh,” you’re surprised. “I thought you’d be more upset.”
“I’m upset that you’re not telling me anything,” she rolls her eyes. “Where’d you meet?”
“Bar,” you answer, instantly. “Last weekend.”
Lexi nods. “What was he wearing?”
“White button-up and black dress pants.”
“Fuck, I bet he looked so good.”
“He did.”
You tell her how he was the one to initiate any sort of contact with you other than eyeing each other from across the bar. You tell her how gentle he was, not only when speaking to you but also when he was casually touching you. Lexi listened intently, smiling along with you as you recalled every detail.
Well, almost every detail. There’s parts of that night you wished to keep between yourself and your bedsheets on late nights.
You can’t deny that you want him. Badly. So badly that you might be hallucinating him every time you’re not looking at Lexi.
“Hey, girls.”
This time, much to your surprise, you weren’t hallucinating. Lando was standing right in front of the open elevator door, looking as irresistible as you remembered.
“Hey,” Lexi looks at you for a second, a cheeky smile on her lips as she makes her way out of the elevator. “Y/N, remember what I asked you to do? Can you bring it down to me later?”
You look at the girl and she gives you a wink Lando couldn’t see. “Uh, yeah. I got it.” Lexi, despite being the scariest person in the whole building when you first met her, has proven herself to be a girls’ girl. She smiles at you two as the doors close, and it’s just you and Lando in a confined space, again.
The curly-haired man turns to you, an annoyingly charming smile playing on his lips. “Not talking to me, are we?”
The way he leaned in as he asked the question drove you crazy— his face was right there, right where you could just turn and… kiss him.
Lando doesn’t have time to process what’s happening before your lips are on his and you’re taking his breath away for the tenth time in the same day. First, it was you wearing your hair down that had him take a second to catch his breath. Next, it was the way you spoke to him and the way you tried to pretend like you didn’t want him at all, yet couldn’t resist smiling when he flirted with you. And now this.
He feels heaven on earth when your fingers find the base of his neck and you play with his hair, getting lost in the curls as his hands find your jaw. He lures you in closer and closer, and he’d mould you two into one being if he could.
You feel his hands travel to your waist and he pulls you in, groaning into your mouth at the memory of you around him.
Just as he’s about to tease his hands up your shirt, the elevator dings.
The two of you, like deer in headlights, pause for a mere millisecond before pulling away and practicing launching yourselves to opposite sides of the elevator. You pat down your hair and Lando straightens his shirt, and you don’t speak a word to him as you step out the elevator, making a beeline to your office.
Lando follows closely behind you, amused, intrigued, needy. He needs more of you, a mere kiss in the elevator doing nothing to suffice his fix of you.
You take a seat at your desk, pretending to do work even though all you can think of is locking the door and fulfilling every fantasy in your mind right now. It doesn’t help that he’s stood in the doorway, hands crossed over his chest as he just watches you.
It takes ten minutes before you finish your pretend work and pull the USB out of your laptop. Lando’s eyes are glued to you, like you’re the only person in the world.
When you’re in front of him, waiting for him to move so you could take your fake work to Lexi, he finally breaks the silence. “Is that gonna happen again? ‘Cause if so, I need to bring breath mints.” He nods his head towards you, a small smirk on his lips. “Put a condom in my wallet,” Lando says in a hushed tone, clearly teasing you for what happened back in the elevator.
You roll your eyes and laugh at him. “Move, Norris.”
“Oh, so it’s Norris now.” He moves out your way so you can get out of the room, yet he still trails closely behind you. When you’re at the elevator again, he just watches you get in, eyes narrowed at you in a way only *he could look at you.
“Stop looking at me like that.” You whisper-yell as you press the ground floor button.
Lando cocks his head to the side. “Like what?”
You sigh and drop your shoulders, “like you’ve seen me naked.”
The last thing you see before the doors close is the rise of Lando’s shoulders and another annoying yet devilishly handsome smirk on his face.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Lando catches you in the elevator the next morning.
He’s as smug as can be and you try your best not to look at him too long. Your hope of surviving this elevator ride dies when he opens his mouth. “So,” he begins. It’s clear that he has nothing to say and that he’s only speaking so he’d talk to you.
“If you have something to say, just say it.” You mumble, a little harsh but you can’t be bothered to put yourself in a good mood that day. You got called up to a meeting with your supervisor and a few others, Lexi and Lando included.
“I don’t have anything to say,” he muses, watching as your face contorts into all sorts of micro expressions. “Do you have something to say?”
“Yes. No.” You look at him and then back to the numbers above the elevator door. “I don’t know.” You pinch the bridge of your nose before turning your head back to him. “You know what? Fine.”
Lando looks at you, like you’ve lost your mind. “Fine?”
You turn to face him with your whole body, arms crossed across your chest and disappointment painting your face. “Fine, I’ll go out to dinner with you.”
He turns to face the door, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Cool.”
“Cool.”
The door opens and you speed off, for the millionth time in the past week. It’s not good for your self-control, and recently declared celibacy, to be near Lando so much. The only reason you’ve decided you’re celibate now is because of that… incident in the elevator. Though you’re sure Lando didn’t mind it at all, but you did.
It was highly inappropriate to be making out with your coworker, at work. Oh, god. What if there’s cameras in the elevator? What if that’s what this meeting is about? You began to worry that you’d be having your first meeting with HR about something you knew would come up.
When you open the meeting room door, Lexi’s already sat next to your supervisor, Eliza. She gave you a small smile and a wave, and you gave her a nervous grimace in return.
Lando, being the annoying coworker that he is, sat next to you. As if you hadn’t already had enough suspicions from Lexi, who didn’t actually seem to mind.
The meeting lasts an hour and Eliza doesn’t get to the reason why you’re there until the very end. “Sorry, why was I called here then? I’m just a photography intern, I don’t think I have anything to do with the race weekend in Italy.”
“Oh, right.” Eliza hummed, pulling out a staff paddock pass for you. “You’re coming with us.”
Your breath hitches in your throat as you take the plastic card and lanyard from Eliza’s hands. “Excuse me?” A whole weekend with not only McLaren, but also Lando. Oh, god.
The curly-haired man sitting next to you laughs silently, before leaning in closer to you. “So that’s dinner in Italy, then?”
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incognit0slut · 1 year ago
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All I Need
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Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love? Based on:
Warnings: 18+ mature content but nothing too explicit, this is just sweet love making
words: 2077
A/n: I’m supposed to finish my last kinktober and update my series, but both are very heavy and I needed something sweet to defrost my writer's block. I hope you don’t mind me squeezing something else until I finish my other WIPs🥲
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“…every time I look into your eyes I see it, you’re all I need…”
SPENCER KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. There wasn't a single thing he wasn't familiar with—from every mole, every scar, to every stretch mark. Any imperfection you considered of yourself he found to be perfect.
He was well aware of the small scar on your hip bone. Or the mole resting at the back of your thigh. Or the way you disliked caffeine, because every time you drank it, it increased your heart rate drastically. Which was why you always judged him every time he had a cup of coffee in his hand, especially with the amount of sugar he never seemed to stop adding.
"That is definitely not healthy," you would always say, to which he simply responded with a small peck on your lips. It was his way to shut you up without saying anything.
He also knew how soft you actually were underneath that hard exterior you always carried. You were an enigma the first time you joined the team, but Spencer always had a soft spot for mystery, and solving you became his mission even when he wasn't the best at maintaining conversations. He remembered making a fool of himself when he talked to you, stuttering about one of the random facts engraved in his brain.
But you still listened to him, and for once in his life, he finally found someone who didn't mind hearing him talk. It was nice to have somebody who found his knowledge interesting, and with that thought in mind, it didn't take long for him to take an interest in you.
Not that he wasn't interested at first, because honestly, you were a splendid sight when you first walked through the door. It was more so an interest that was considered surpassing a simple friendship. An interest that had him push his confidence into asking you out.
Spencer never pegged himself as someone who would be content having a significant other in his daily routine—his past relationships never seemed to work out, after all—but the more time he spent with you, the more he realized he was actually in pure bliss. It seemed as if you had cast a spell, drawing him deeper into your presence, a magnetic force of affection that went beyond the superficial. Every smile, every touch, seemed to emanate a radiant heat, and he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnitude of your warmth.
Especially at this moment, staring into your eyes as they slowly fluttered open from a long night of slumber, he found himself leaning forward. You were so warm, so inviting. The soft light coming from the curtains cast a shadow over your curves and he couldn't help himself from trailing down your body.
You were fully awake now as he pressed his lips on every part of your skin. The slight movement of your arms wrapping around his neck had him grunting, and somehow he was suddenly positioned between your legs, pressing his hot length onto your wet folds, wanting nothing else but to push himself deep into your warmth.
As he watched you beneath him, eyes half closed, mouth open in anticipation, he couldn't help but mutter his next words because you looked breathtakingly beautiful. Heavenly gorgeous covered in a sheen of sweat, so damn pretty with eyes full of desire. You looked like a siren, an angel, and a lustful woman all rolled into one.
Everything about you was so divine, and the desire to consume every part of your existence became an insatiable hunger. It was a need, a yearning that made the idea of spending a lifetime without you seem unfathomable as if oxygen slowly drained from his world, leaving him breathless. 
The words bubbled up from the depths of his heart, and before he could second-guess himself, he blurted out, "Marry me." 
Your eyes snapped open as he finally sank his hips into you, and before you could even respond, before you could even register his words, his rough thrust stole the breath from your lungs. Rational thoughts shattered as he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was slightly painful yet completely pleasurable.
He slowly pulled out, then pushed back in, your back arching, legs wrapping around his waist. "Spence," you moaned as he started a steady pace, trying to gain your focus but failing miserably. You couldn't think of anything else except the sensation between your legs. "Oh, God."
Languid and smooth, his hips continued to roll into you. "This feels good, doesn't it?"
The feel of his cock sinking in and out of you had your head falling back against the mattress. Your fingernails tightened upon his back, and he drove you gently into the bed with low grunts. His voice was rough, broken by focused breaths. "We could do this every morning."
A whine broke out of you.
"I'd wake up first," he told you. "I'd make you breakfast in bed..." He slipped out again before thrusting into you slowly, dragging his cock along your inner walls that had you mewling. "...right after I wake you with my tongue between your thighs."
You let out another moan. He drank in the sound with a smile before lowering his mouth to the base of your neck. Heated kisses trailed along your skin as his fingers trailed down the outline of your body before they stopped at the warmth between your legs.
Your mouth was wide open against his shoulder, eyes watering with the force of pleasure from having his cock smacking through your wetness, his body forcefully shoving your knees apart. You felt his fingers trailing your clit in slow circles and you arched your back, each tender brush tightened that coil of heat simmering in the pit of your stomach. The simulation drove you further into a haze of pleasure that a soft yes finally escaped your lips without you realizing it.
The barely whispered word didn't go unnoticed by him.
"Yes to this," he wondered as prompted his weight on his other hand. "Or to my proposal?"
You glanced up at him, your face a mixture of pleasure and alarm as you gave him a look. "You're crazy."
He watched you closely, mesmerized by the way your hips were bucking every time his cock hit that soft spot inside you while his fingers continued their tease. "Maybe." He leaned down and softly bit your shoulder. "But I am crazy in love with you."
When you didn't respond, he slowly pulled away and fixed his gaze on you. Your reaction, or lack thereof, spoke volumes, and as his eyes met yours, he found himself captivated by the reflective pools of emotion within. There was a hint of fear and concern, shadows that danced with the flicker of uncertainty. Yet, beneath those layers, he could see the distinct longing in your eyes. It was hard not to distinguish it as it matched the same look in his. Your stare was warm and domineering.
They were so full of love.
And that moment, Spencer realized, that was what you were to him—love. You were the greatest passion he had ever known.
You felt completely in the moment with him as you let your gaze scan over his features. His eyes appeared darker in this light of the room, but you could still see the soft lightness of them. Then, you leaned up, noses brushing gently against each other before you pressed your lips onto his. His body moved again in response, hips bucking into you and you felt him pulsing inside your core as his mouth worked harmoniously along yours.
"Marry." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.
You whimpered. Everything was too much. The intensity of the pleasure was almost intoxicating, a heady concoction that wrapped around you, rendering you momentarily breathless.
"Having you for the rest of my life is a privilege." He continued, grunting as you clenched around him. He lost himself with one final, jagged plea. "Marry me and make me the happiest man alive."
His words, touch, and the stroke of him inside you—it all blurred together. It pushed you so wildly that the coil in your stomach twisted sharply through along your body. He lunged down to kiss you again, tongue pushing deep as he stole your moan before it could break into the air. He tugged you into him at the same time that you submitted to his pull.
There were times when you would appreciate this. The contact, the intimacy, the warmth of your boyfriend connected with you. Right now though, you needed release. So you buried your hand in his curls, all messy and askew.
"Spencer," you breathed out against his lips. Each of his thrusts fed the growing flame in your body as your body turned pliant for him. “Oh god, yes,” you cried, head thrashing side to side as your eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by pleasure.
He peppered kisses over your neck, your jaw, your temple, desperate to be even closer to you, to melt into you. "Yes to what?"
Your senses were heightened, every touch and every breath seemed magnified in the intensity of the moment. Your body shuddered with every vicious thrust.
"Yes, yes, yes." A desperate, needy little whine slipped past your lips and you opened your eyes wide to give him a pleading look. "Spencer, please, please."
You were panting, your breath hot and your skin even hotter, and you could barely hear him when he spoke, "Yes to what, Angel?"
Angel. The syllables carried a warmth that resonated deep within your heart. Sometimes you were his Angel. Sometimes you were his Sweetheart. While you cherished the way he expressed his affection, a yearning for more had taken root.
Marry me.
You could be more than his angel. You could be his wife. But it wasn't just about the affectionate words anymore; it was about a promise, a shared future, and you realized as he hovered above you, all sweaty and desperate, that you wanted to feel this bliss every day. How could you not when he fits so perfectly inside you that you could swear he was made for you?
And then you felt it, his hand trailing down your arm before it stopped right along your fingers, intertwining them with his. Your hand clutched onto his as his thrust sped up a fraction—but it was still deep and lazy, enough to make you squirm. His cock was achingly hard inside you and when you clenched down on him, you adored the twitch and resounding moan it drew out of him.
You wanted this for your life. You wanted him every day. You wanted to wake up each morning in his arms, him whispering sweet nothings as he buried himself inside you.
You wanted him so much you would be a fool not to accept his proposal.
"Yes," you breathed out. "I'll marry you."
He grunted against your lips. "Say that again."
His thrusts were now fast and ruthless, his groans filling the room while the sound of skin slapping together echoed with it. Every time you could feel him deep inside you, it brought you closer to that familiar coil in your stomach. It was a heady sensation, an intoxicating blend of desire that quickened your pulse and set your senses ablaze.
"I—shit," you cried out, legs shaking at the pleasure traveling along your body you were starting to wail desperately for your release. "Fuck, baby, I'll marry you."
A sound of satisfaction erupted from him as he kissed you with every ounce of power he had. He kissed you as he had never kissed anyone before. He kissed you deeply, possessively even, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from different angles, but it felt perfect.
You felt perfect. Your lips. Your curves. Your scent. It was as if you were made especially for him. He was fully consumed with you, consumed by you, and yet he couldn't get enough. Though you were beneath him, he was at your mercy, and the fact that you could still have such control over him made his stomach twist even more.
He was so in love with you. He was so sure of it, so sure of this abundance of passion, for Spencer Reid could sometimes be dense when it came to sudden bursts of emotions, but he was not stupid. He wasn't oblivious, nor was he lacking in perception. It wasn't about intelligence or lack thereof, it was simply about the purity of his emotion. 
And he was deeply, unequivocally in love.
.
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shower sounds
It was wrong. It was immoral.
But Simon 'Ghost' Riley couldn't help himself. He just couldn't.
You were his neighbor. His sweet, smiling, food-bringing goddess next-door. You had shared conversations with him, a few bottles of wine from time to time, too many cookies for him to count- you shared walls with him.
For the most part, the walls you shared with him weren't a problem. Sometimes you had your TV volume up too loud, sometimes you sang a bit too loudly to whatever music you were listening to, but that never bothered Simon.
Sometimes he could hear your cat jump up to her cat tower. He could always hear (and sometimes feel the vibration) when she would launch her chubby self up to the tower, and the tower would always knock against the wall you shared with Simon. It made him scoff quietly every time. He had a fondness for that fat cat, whether he would admit it out loud or not.
Maybe her owner, too.
His excellent hearing was partially to blame, so he never made it to be a big deal. He never wanted you to know he heard you that much, didn't want to make you feel bad for some reason.
And those noises really weren't all that bad. In fact, he looked forward to hearing those mundane sounds. Sometimes a cupboard would close a bit too loudly; he never imagined you being the type to go randomly slamming cupboards shut, and he would wonder if you were alright. If he didn't hear anything else, he wouldn't worry as much.
It was a different kind of noise that Simon 'Ghost' Riley was bothered by that came from your unit. Noises, rather. And it was always one kind of noise that led to another…
The first time it happened, he felt almost ashamed of himself. Almost. Maybe he'd be more full of shame if he hadn't felt so damn good after.
Simon had been lounging on one end of his couch, TV remote in hand. He was switching between channels when he heard the familiar sound of your shower turning on. 
There was always this almost ringing-like sound that would come through the building's old pipes when the water was on, especially in the showers. The sound was always the same when the shower turned on, though if you adjusted the spray of the shower head, it would become higher or lower pitched depending on the intensity of the stream of water.
He heard you turn on some music before he could hear the shower curtain being drawn back and forth as you probably stepped into the shower, naked-
Simon shook his head, trying to focus back on the task at hand, picking something to watch on TV.
But there was nothing on.
He decided to give up on that. Right after his television went black, he heard the familiar high pitched noise of the building's old plumbing go up a few levels.
Simon wouldn't have thought anything of it if his apartment hadn't been dead quiet, and if he hadn't heard a small moan through the shared wall between you.
Simon's eyes widened as he listened, his ear turned towards the wall now so he could listen more closely. He could hear the harsh spray of your showerhead, his mind racing with what you could be using it for and where the stream was being directed on your body.
He felt a spark of something, and his body began to respond to the intimate sounds you were making that echoed into his apartment through the wall. His breathing began to slow and he closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds. He could hear your soft whimpering and short gasps even clearer now.
A lump began to form in his throat as his body continued to react, his heart racing with excitement. His hand instinctively went to his groin, his fingers tracing the outline of his growing arousal. He knew he shouldn't be standing there, his ear on the wall between you, his eyes closed, listening to you pleasure yourself in the shower-
But he just couldn't help himself. The sounds were drawing him in, making him feel like he was part of something intimate and-
Simon's eyes snapped open, and he moved away from the wall, trying to compose himself. He couldn't believe he was getting turned on by listening to his sweet, adorable, sweets-and-food gifting neighbor getting herself off in the shower. He needed to put some distance between you. He needed to get out of there, to clear his head and calm down.
He had taken the first step to move into another room when he heard a faint whisper through the wall.
"Oh, yeah..."
Back against the wall he was.
He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He was stuck, his ears glued to the wall, listening to the sounds coming from the other side.
The sounds were getting louder, and Simon could hear you more clearly now. You were whimpering and moaning, your breathing a little shallower now.
He continued to listen, unable to move away. His breathing was ragged and sharp, his body reacting to every single noise on the other side of the wall.
Simon's hand went back down to the waistband of his jeans, his fingers tracing the material. He felt a shiver go down his spine as he realized what he was about to do, but he didn't stop himself.
He unbuttoned his jeans, his hands moving urgently as he listened to the sounds coming from the other side of the wall. He was getting more and more turned on as he heard your moans and whimpers growing louder, the sounds getting more frequent.
He shoved his jeans and boxers down in one swift movement, his other hand grasping his already rock-hard length.
He stroked himself slowly, his hand still pressed against the wall, his ear inches from the spot where your voice seemed to be coming from.
His eyes closed once more as he imagined what you might look like, pleasuring yourself in the shower, as he stroked his throbbing cock, already glistening at the tip with precum.
To keep his own pleasured sounds from getting too loud, in fear that you would hear him and maybe stop, he bit down on his own tongue, quickly tasting copper in his mouth as a muffled groan escaped his lips.
He imagined you in the shower, how wet you must be in so many ways, how slick your skin was as you touched yourself, and how much you wanted this, needed this release just as desperately as he did.
With a low growl, he began pumping his shaft faster, harder as he imagined your wet skin, your curves, your breasts, your ass... He could picture it all so vividly, thanks to the erotic symphony playing through the thin wall separating them.
He was stroking his thick, angry cock faster now, his hips rocking slightly, the sound of his own heavy breathing mingling with the distant echoes of your pleasure-filled cries.
"Fuck," he heard you whisper breathlessly before letting out a soft whine. You were getting close. He could tell.
So was he.
The sound of your moans grew louder, more urgent, and Simon found himself matching the rhythm of your strokes, pumping his own cock in time with your breathy pleas.
His grip tightened around his shaft, the veins bulging as he worked himself closer to the edge. The image of you touching yourself, lost in pleasure, fueled his desire, making him ache to be inside you.
He could almost taste you on his tongue, feel your slick heat enveloping him as he thrust deep. The fantasy was so real, so intoxicating, that he swore he could smell the sweet musk of your arousal carried through the thin partition.
A guttural groan tore from his throat as he quickened his pace, chasing his impending climax. Precum dripped steadily from the tip of his cock, leaving a sticky trail on his fist as he pumped faster, harder.
Then, he heard what he had been waiting for most of all, a sound he knew was coming but wasn't sure what exactly it would sound like. And it was more delicious than he could have ever imagined.
He heard you cry out through the wall, in the shower, as your orgasm washed over you. He really hoped that your sound of released pleasure distracted you enough to not notice his own.
Simon's entire world narrowed to the sound of your climax, a whine that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of his reality. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard, and it shattered his last semblance of control.
He knew he was about to be loud. He needed to do something, fast, that wouldn’t mean biting his tongue or lip off-
Simon bit down on his clothed arm as he came undone, his orgasm ripping through him like a hurricane while the pain from biting his own arm threatened to tip the scales of pain and pleasure towards the former, but maybe that made him like it even more. Hot spurts of cum spurted from his cock, painting the wall he leaned against in thick, viscous streaks. His hips jerked erratically as he rode out the aftershocks, his vision flashing white behind clenched eyelids.
When Simon finally returned to Earth, he was left looking at the aftermath of his actions as he caught his breath, breathing in and out with his eyes closed, still listening intently through the wall just in case you had any more delicious sounds in you.
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moonlitwitchdaisy · 13 days ago
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Present Morning
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christmas mornings are always beautiful, especially when your husband starts the day by eating you out in the comfort of your warm bed.
and that was exactly what was happening right now.
“toji… ughhh!!” your husband had your legs pulled up to your chest, one arm firmly holding them in place, while his tongue was busy lapping up your slick walls.
toji fushiguro knew exactly how to worship you. to him (alongside his son), you were the most precious thing in the world. you were the unattainable, flawless, utterly divine queen he could only dream of serving. and he, your loyal servant, devoted to you every hour, every minute, every second of his life.
his tongue moved along your dripping, slippery walls with practiced precision, pulling out moans from your throat. his deep, masculine groans vibrated against your core, intensifying the pleasure to the point where you pressed your face deeper into the soft pillow beneath you.
your husband kissed your folds wetly, sucking on them with fervor before releasing them with a sloppy pop. his free hand moved to trail his fingers along your sensitive entrance.
“such a mess… every time my tongue touches your swollen walls, it’s always the same.” his rough voice rumbled against your skin, his fingers teasing your entrance while your restrained moans filled his ears. the cool touch of his wedding band occasionally brushing against your core sent shivers down your spine. but when his thick middle and ring fingers pushed inside, you let out a loud cry.
“fuck, babe. your pussy is so warm and eager, just like always. fuck―fuck.” his fingers moved inside you with a steady rhythm, unhurried but purposeful, drawing out every ounce of pleasure he could. each time he found your g-spot, his fingers curled just right, coaxing even more intense waves of sensation. the calloused tips of his fingers brushing against your soft, sensitive spot created a delicious friction you couldn’t get enough of.
“love… y-your fingers are too… big oh god—” they always felt like too much for you. toji was a big man, and his 8.4-inch hands were just one reminder of his size.
of course, his hands weren’t the only large part of him.
the slick, obscene sounds of your wetness filled the dimly lit room, faintly illuminated by the morning sun peeking through the curtains. you caught a glimpse of the smirk curling his lips. toji never played humble when you brought up his size—he knew exactly how much of a man he was.
“huh, is that so? but you love it, don’t you, wife?” his fingers stopped their slow rhythm and began to move faster. one of your hands flew up to muffle your cries as he teased you further, his tone dripping with mockery. “i know how much you love my fingers. the way you take them so greedily every damn day, the way you suck them clean after you cum, and how you clench around them when i spank your ass while i’m fucking you. fuckkkk—every little thing about them drives you insane.”
“yes, yes, i love them more than—more than anything, toji,” you gasped, your words soft but clear enough for him to hear.
his fingers thrust faster into you, and as his lips wrapped around your swollen clit, your hands gripped the headboard tightly. his warm, wet mouth sucked on the throbbing bundle of nerves while his tongue drew circles around it. every movement of his fingers inside you was deliberate, precise, and unrelenting, matching the intensity of his mouth on your clit.
he would never give his queen anything less than perfection.
“are you close, ma? because i can feel it—you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” his deep voice resonated against your core, pushing you closer to the edge.
“uh-huh. mmph—please, love, i want to cum, please, please—UGHHH TOJI!” with your legs still pinned to your chest, his fingers pressed hard against your g-spot, coaxing you over the edge.
your back arched as waves of pleasure wracked your body, your hand muffling the loud cry threatening to escape. your climax washed over you, soaking his fingers as he held your trembling legs firmly in place.
as your husband finally released your legs, they fell limp onto the bed, completely spent. he pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to your lips, slipping them into your mouth while he lowered his head to lap up the juices spilling from your entrance.
you sucked on his thick fingers eagerly, your tongue swirling around them as his head lifted. with a grin, he leaned down to kiss you deeply, his lips tasting of you.
“ready for my cock, ma?” he asked as he pulled away, his lips glistening with saliva. but just as his hand reached for his cock, a loud crashing sound from the living room made him freeze.
“what the fuck was that?” he growled, instantly getting out of bed and throwing on the nearest piece of clothing. you scrambled to do the same, your heart racing with a mix of adrenaline and fear as you both rushed toward the sound.
your mind immediately went to the worst possibilities. had something happened to megumi? was this one of the disgusting traps laid by toji’s awful family?
but when you reached the living room, the sight before you revealed the culprit—your six-year-old son, standing amidst the chaos of a toppled christmas tree, clutching a red, gift-wrapped present with his name on it. his wide, fearful eyes darted between you and toji.
while you bit your lip to stifle a laugh, your husband muttered under his breath just loud enough for you to hear, "this kid is doing everything he can to make sure we don't give him a sibling." that was all it took for you to burst into laughter.
megumi still looked terrified, clearly expecting a scolding. but you walked over, scooped him up in your arms, and peppered his cheeks with kisses. “looks like it’s time to open our christmas presents,” you said, smiling warmly at him, thankful the only chaos this morning was caused by your mischievous little boy.
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a little note: i hope there aren't any mistakes. i couldn't do proof reading because i'm sick :(
all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.
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thevoidstaredback · 9 months ago
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It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?
Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.
Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.
"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.
Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.
Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.
"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"
Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"
The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."
Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"
Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"
Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."
"Billy."
"No last name?"
"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"
He had to give it to him. "Touché."
Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.
The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.
"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"
Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."
The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.
Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."
"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"
Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"
The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"
The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.
"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.
"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.
"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"
"Magic."
"I guessed that much."
"Then why'd you ask?"
"Will you teach me?"
"No."
"You didn't even think about it!"
"Okay," He paused. "No."
"Not fair." he pouted.
Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."
Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"
Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."
"Why not!"
"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."
"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.
Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."
Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"
The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.
"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."
Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."
"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"
Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"
He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."
Part 2 Part 4
(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)
Tag list: @zaiothe4th
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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months ago
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James Potter x fem!reader
KINKTOBER 2024
summary: You need James as soon as you wake up, and he needs you.
warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, quickie, swearing
The morning light shines onto your face from behind the large, sheer, curtains in you and your boyfriend's bedroom. James's head is tucked against your chest, his breath tickling your neck as you stir awake, your tired eyes adjusting to the sun. 
James's stirs as a chain reaction to your movement and you freeze. "Sorry, love," you whisper and hold a hand behind his head, scratching his scalp as he hums with pleasure. James just shifts closer, hiking his leg onto your hip as he attempts to become more comfortable again.  
Even in your sleepy state, you're very aware of his morning wood against your thigh. 
You grin, blinking yourself fully awake as you turn around and straddle his stomach now. James grunts, finally opening his eyes as he lays on his back, messy curls splayed across the pillow and his hands slowly find your hips. 
"Mornin'," he says, his voice hoarse from sleep. 
You press your hands against his bare chest, leaning down and capturing his lips in yours. He responds immediately as his hands tighten around you and you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
"Hi," you mumble against his lips, rocking your hips ever so gently against his happy trail. 
James's eyes narrow and he smirks. "What's this, mm? I didn't forget my birthday, did I?" he teases lightly, knowing damn well your sex life doesn't require birthday sex to be amazing. 
You shake your head, drawing small hearts on his chest as your rocking continues. You peek at his boxers from underneath you, seeing his dick straining against the material and you smile. "You look needy this morning. Wanna help you," you say. 
James looks down and groans, helping you rocking now. 
"You cheeky minx," he grumbles, voice thick with arousal. "I'm the needy one, huh? Did'you know that morning wood is completely normal—and that means you're the needy one, climbing onto me like this." James's hand travels up your nightdress and into your panties as he teases your skin where the hem is. You moan, leaning down and kissing around his pecks. 
"Jamie, please," you plead as he checks you.
"So wet already?" he chuckles, fully awake now as he admires how the sun hits your skin. "Don't even need to prep you, darling." 
You nod, needing more friction to your puffy clit. "Had a dirty dream about you," you admit shyly, "Please. You're being mean." 
"Mean?" James's hands tighten around your waist and suddenly hoists you up by your thighs, flipping you over. "You're the one who woke me up to your pussy pressed against my stomach, getting herself off. So, hm, how am I the mean one? How was that fair?" 
James scolds you playfully and slides your panties up your legs, throwing them to the side as he pulls down his boxers. Your eyes are wide and needy when you see his dick and your nails dig into his arms. "Please."
"Shh," he whispers as he easily guides his cock into your slick folds, your pussy so wet you offer no resistance, "There, shh, baby, shh. There. I got you, fuck, you feel so good." He's praising you and you feel like you're in heaven. Instantly, you wrap your legs around his hips as he thrusts into you just the way he knows you like in the morning. 
"My beautiful girl," James whispers as he kisses you, pulling on your lip as you use his arms to ground yourself. He loves the soft moans you're making. 
James groans, gripping the headboard above you as he curses. "Fuck, c-can't last very long—I–"
You nod, "I know, love. I know." You know he doesn't last long in the mornings and you don't care. Neither do you. You're both so goddamn horny. 
You focus on his thrusts and how he groans from above you, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Your pussy clenches around him and that does it. You're lost in pleasure you don't even register he's spilled his cum inside you until you come down from your own high.
"Shit," James mutters, falling onto the mattress next to you as his chest heaves. 
You turn to him, an equally tired look on your face and you nuzzle into him, resting your head on his bicep. James smiles, pulling you in closer and kissing your forehead. He shuts his eyes for a moment. "As much as you know I love this, it isn't the best way to get us to wake up," he points out. 
You smile, eyes fluttering shut. "That's the point, my love," you whisper sleepily.
James chuckles and his hand which is massaging your scalp gradually puts you into a peaceful sleep and when James's head falls onto yours, you're both sleeping soundly again. 
tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese, @longlivedelusion, @fangirl-swagg, @fruticake,, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader, @2dloveshp, @simplyreflected, @desi-brownie, @aunicornmademedoit
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innerfare · 2 months ago
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You’re Sick - Part 2
Summary: How do they act when you come down with a bad fever?
Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Crocodile, Mihawk, Marco, Smoker
Genre: Fluff
CW: None // SFW
——— 
Shanks: 
You didn’t know Shanks could cook, but there he is, stirring a pot of soup on the stove. And he’s wearing an apron over his boxers, of course. He’ll feed you if he has to, but you will be eating, and he’ll make damn sure to keep your spirits high with some light jokes. Oh, and he’ll most definitely draw you a bath, but you’ll be sitting in it together. 
Beckman: 
The type to hold you through it. He can’t do much more, he knows that, so he focuses on what he can control, such as making you feel safe and warm (and ensuring you don’t try to get out of bed before you’re ready). He starts feeling a little under the weather himself after a while, but he doesn’t tell you that, wanting you to focus on your own health. 
Crocodile: 
If you’re expecting a caretaker, you should find someone else. That being said, he’ll make sure to hire a caretaker, taking great pains to secure the best doctor around (and putting that doctor in pain if they don’t drop everything to attend to your every need). He’ll probably sleep on the sofa in his office to give you space to recover. 
Mihawk: 
It’s easy to think he’s not taking care of you. You don’t see him at your side the entire time you have a fever, but as you fade in and out of consciousness, you’re aware of a presence, and the times you wake, you find a hot meal or some fresh flowers on your bedside table. When you finally have the strength to rise, you’ll find him in his chair reading the newspaper as if nothing happened. 
Marco: 
Naturally, he knows exactly what to do. He diagnoses you straight away, makes sure all necessary supplies are on hand, and pumps you full of medicine, hot food, and liquids to keep your strength up while your body fights off the illness. Of course, he’ll give you a little more care than he would the average patient, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead before sitting down at your side to read a book so he can watch over you while you recover. 
Smoker: 
He’ll nurse you back to health, but he won’t be the most gentle about you. He’s the type to rip open the curtains because you need some sunlight, your aversion to it at this moment be damned, or to drag you out of bed and toss you into a cold shower because it’s good for you. He’ll step into the shower with you, though, and when he makes you sit outside to get some fresh air, he’ll pull you into his lap. 
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
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k0yaz · 5 months ago
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Hi love 💕 May I request comfort/fluff one shot Arlecchino x fem Reader who developed a terminal illness a few years back and is now often bedridden but is getting better however Arlecchino is still super overprotective of her
white light.
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Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader
CW: sfw, female reader, terminally ill reader, angst, but there’s comfort yay I know yall love this, LOTS of mentions of death, like a ridiculous amount, dw reader doesn’t die but grim reaper bullies us every chance he gets like damn, or is the grim reaper a she, that means my friend is immortal since if death is a woman it’ll never come for them, sorry off topic, very soft arle, yes we love our soft king walskskfj, why is the shower so cold help me, not proofread.
A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE AND IT TURNED OUT SO NICE HOLY also, school is starting soon so I might have to go on break in couple months but no worries I can find some time to write and it’ll be a while into the year until i actually need a break yk <3 🕯️
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The fluffy layered clouds hovering in the sky slowly parted themselves to reveal illuminating gleams of sunlight pouring into the room through the window curtains situated to the right of your bed. Slow gusts of wind began to join the warmth of the gold light, brushing along your skin and causing an array of goosebumps to bloom along your arm. You were lucky. Not too long back, your immobile body was enveloped into the same bed, a sickly hue painting your face as your pale tinged lips could only part to cough out a few strained noises.
Perhaps the gods had took pity on you? You supposed you’d never figure out the answer as to how your body curved back from a terminal illness in its final stage. It was supposed to be incurable, and your body back then seemed to agree with what should have been. You were dangerously dangling right above the realm of death, only a hair apart from succumbing to your imminent demise. The doctor who noted your worsening state only had a strike of pity in her voice whenever she’d inform Arlecchino of your current condition, shaking her head as the words: “she won’t make it.” muffled through the door seperating your room from the outside.
It hurt to hear. Not for you per say, but more to hear the emptiness in Arlecchino’s voice when she attempted to dismiss the doctor’s words coldly. She didn’t want to hear that. She didn’t want to hear that your condition was only drawing you closer and closer to death, she wanted to hear that you atleast had a small chance of surviving. As much as she tried to choke back the bitter pain in her unwavering voice, she always clung onto that small sliver of hope deep down, internally calling out to a sea of nothingness in hopes that something would come help you.
Sudden news of your recovery, or rather your condition suddenly improving one day was nothing short of a miracle. It shouldn’t have been possible at all. You were around the final month mark, your entire body burning with an agonizing rush of soreness as you wanted to plead for death to take you away from the unbearable discomfort searing every limb of your ghastly and thin form. That night you had gone to bed, hoping to escape the aching pain of your illness eating away at you. That was when you saw it. You dreamt of a faint glow of white light—or was it a slight pale yellow? The dream was vague and confusing, and held no meaning at all. The light simply danced in circles before you as your life trajectory seared across your eyes.
However, the dream must have meant something.
The next morning you had awoken, your body feeling much lighter all of a sudden, as you had the strength to now sit up completely. Hands carefully massaging the thick blanket draped over your lap, you blinked in confusion upon realizing that you were indeed alive and able to sit up. Sure, you were still incapable of moving around or sitting up for long, but originally, you weren’t even able to raise your body a quarter of the way up, as it would simply result in your spine slamming back into the sunken, comfortable mattress.
When the doctor made her way into the room, performing her checkups which she believed to be futile and tragic, her initial expression of sorrow shifted to one of quick shock. This shouldn’t have been even the slightest bit possible. Arlecchino’s reaction was all the more endearing the moment the newly discovered news made its way to her. You’d never forget the rare smile of pure relief and happiness crossing her usually stoic front, seeming as if Arlecchino was glowing in that moment.
She had attempted to clear her throat and position herself upright, concealing the internal delight bubbling in her mind at that moment. The door had softly creaked open, the sway of the old hinges on your bedroom door being the only noise, along with the quiet howls of wind, resounding within the cell of a room that held your life by a mere thread.
You simply sat there, your scrawny form nearly engulfed by the heavy blankets cascaded onto your lap as the light livened the hue of your face. And when that sweet smile made its way onto your lips weakly upon seeing the harbinger hover before your bed, Arlecchino had to suppress every urge of hers to hem you between her arms in a tight hug and never let go. She wanted to embrace you with every drop of love and affection lingering in her heart as her blackened hands tightened into your back, like a promise to never let you go. Since then, your condition had steadily improved. Months passed, and then years. At this very moment, you now had the ability to walk around and perform minor tasks adequately, yet you still remained bedridden for the majority of your time.
A light pain slowly overtook the side of your chest abruptly, drawing out a few heavy coughs from your throat as your palm pushed against your left breast in an attempt to soothe the throb pushing and pulling against your heart. Quiet ticks of the clock seemed to inch in sync with the rugged beats of your heart, both echoing throughout the room in a sort of twisted harmony. Although your condition had gotten better, storms of weakness and coughs would still persist through, as this was quite a serious illness you suffered from.
The silk white blankets enveloped your limp frame, cascading over your body and situated slightly below your chest, while the back of your head burrowed into the pillows to bask in the favorable comfort enshrouded around every outline of your lounged body. Your chest rhythmically rose and fell as you choked out a few labored breaths, still clenching your fingers against the fabric of your loose shirt covering your chest.
Your vision suddenly started a gradual spin, objects within your range slowly drawn out of focus, and not taking long for the spin to pick up the pace as your vision suddenly shifted to a bleary mess of the room. Head tilting back, you rasped out a line of shaky breaths as the frightening episode of dizziness quickly subsided as soon as it began, causing a sense of panic to rush through you briefly while your chest rose and fell in uneven motions from your initial fright. In that very moment, a small screech of wooden hinges caught your attention, your head carefully raising as to not incite any possible negative reaction from your sensitive body.
Swift and heavy clicks of heels prodded across the room, a sound you’d recognize anywhere even if you were miles away. You raised your head barely even level to the headboard, delivering Arlecchino a feeble smile as her eyes softened upon meeting yours. Slowly, you took her hand into yours, palm resting over the top of her defined knuckles as your thumb circled along the cursed gradient of her hands gently. She could only breathe out a grateful sigh, her head dropping in a restful state as she rested herself onto your shoulder affectionately.
“Are you feeling any better?” She almost immediately questioned, her usually composed eyes having a flicker of concern dashed across them. Her eyes wandered along your frail body, the hints of worry still subtly etched onto her face as her grasp on your hand below hers grew increasingly taut and stiff as she awaited your answer. As much as you wanted to chuckle and tell her you were okay, you clearly couldn’t even say that much.
“Hm. Same as usual. Can’t move my legs well today, but I’ll live.” You casually answered, not taking in the impact your words might have placed onto Arlecchino.
Live.
She was so glad you were able to live.
Arlecchino suddenly dragged her teeth along each other, her mouth remaining closed as the grit of her teeth quietly bounced off of her cheek into her eardrums. It took everything she had to swallow back that wretched feeling boiling up to her throat, her heart wrenching and flooding with discomfort upon hearing the way you threw your life around so casually in your words. She had always been extensively protective over you ever since your condition deteriorated, yet it grew exponentially once you began to recover over the years. She’d always tend to you, sometimes never leaving your side for hours on end as she’d just sit there, head lowered and lips pushed against your frail hand.
Her grip on your hand tensed noticeably, making you shift your eyes up to her lowered dark gaze, staring off into an endless abyss as her expression just seemed…soulless and empty at the mere thought of your passing away. She was afraid. Afraid that just when she believes that her beloved would live despite being in poor condition, she’d walk into your room one day to discover your heart dead still, body completely limp and deceased.
The thought of that made her hand noticeably quiver between yours, disturbing images of your possible sudden death plaguing her mind like a broken subliminal record trying to shatter her soul by tearing away the one person she loves most in this cruel world. It was indeed cruel, as this very world had targeted the reaper to loom over the side of your bed at all times, carefully awaiting the moment to take you away from Teyvat. Arlecchino internally cursed herself at the idea that perhaps this punishment was because of her. She wanted you to be spared. You weren’t the one with blood on your hands, she was.
Despite her agonizing thoughts gnawing at the back of her mind, your sudden firm grip on her hand made her head snap back up abruptly, eyes locking onto your thin fingers cupping her shaky hand in place. If she could, Arlecchino would cry at this very moment, allow herself to shed a couple tears. Yet she knew she couldn’t. She didn’t want to worry you any further, especially in your current state.
“Arle, I’m staying. Please, don’t worry about me. I am better now, right?”
“I know. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t around.”
It was evident that Arlecchino had a difficult time a few years ago, when you were announced to die in under a couple months. She had to mentally prepare herself to lose you soon. She was used to it, you were just another person in her life that slipped away too soon, right?
But she couldn’t.
She couldn’t bear losing you. It was too much even for her.
Arlecchino needed you in her life, and she’d wipe out the entirety of the world just to keep you safe.
Your hand reached up to graze along the skin of her cheek, smiling as she instinctively leaned into your touch. Her eyes fluttered shut as she held your hand in place against her cheek, opening her eyelids once more to gaze at you lovingly with red x-marked eyes.
“Hey Arle, I’m still not feeling the best today…so do you think you could-“
You didn’t even get a chance to finish your hesitant sentence as she lowered herself onto the side of your bed, squeezing herself next to you as her arms gently circled your torso and grasped you against her. You only hummed out a content sigh as you felt your slouched back press to her upright chest, the difference in your postures just making the moment oddly romantic and sweet. Arlecchino’s face buried into your shoulder, intaking a soft inhale as if she missed your scent clouding her senses every time she was close to you.
It didn’t take long for you to drift off to sleep in Arlecchino’s arms as you curled up into the warm blankets piled over both of you. Arlecchino, still awake, quietly shifted her weight onto her side to glance down at you, smiling softly upon seeing your peaceful rested expression. Maybe finally, she rinsed the lingering blood splattered on her hands that led you to this awful fate. She’d rinse it a thousand times if it meant that you would remain safe like this for as long as you lived.
However in this very moment? Arlecchino had forgotten every sense of dread clawing at her constantly, instead focusing on your huddled up form engulfed between her protective grasp.
She swore that she would never let you go again, and she would treasure every inch of you. Not even death can do you two part.
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A/N: omg I kept switching between being proud of this and being not so proud bc I had to stop midway through and I lost my train of thought AUUUSHSHDBFN anyway yayayayashshdhd I loved writing this so much AND CALM DOWN ON THE ARLE REQUESTS HOLY SH-
ok bye I’m gonna go on character ai cause I can’t sleep to bed
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