#fanning myself frantically
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modmad · 2 years ago
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Just remembered I had a moment with a coworker when we were exchanging reading recommendations (it went from books to graphic novels and podcasts) and I mentioned online comics! My immediate first recommendation was TPoH and I immediately started struggling because "No, you don't understand, this comic isn't like anything I've ever read. This couldn't be something anyone else could just pick up and continue if something happened to the author, she just has this way with not only her artwork and the story-telling but the atmosphere, the wittyisms on each page, the TEXTURE of the story-" and I probably spent at least ten minutes trying to explain my Very Intense Love and Support for your work that probably made me sound like a rambling fool at the end-
(Even HARDER when I couldn't pull up those tumblr pages where we could see all the trippy things you did with Time when Hero and RGB were in their domain which were SO cool-!!)
Sorry, just wanted to let you know how much I love your...well, everything (I bought all three TPoH books and Unbecoming and the stickers/tarot cards along with some stuff from The Princess and the Jester, and even though I'm not familiar with the Duck Comics I've come to absolutely love and adore Magicstone). I hope you have a good day and your poor hands can get some good rest.
anon you a real one thank you so much ;v;
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collaredkittyboy · 3 months ago
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Okay non horny post, I got those Bluetooth light bulbs that change color that you control from your phone and it's the best purchase ever
I can have amazing lighting for pics and I can switch to all kinds of mood lighting while laying in bed and even color changing modes that are customizable
The downsides are I need to be connected to wifi for me to control them and also I'm pretty sure even when I turn them off in the app they're still using electricity, but also I don't need to get up to turn off or on the lights so I'm happy with it
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anto-pops · 1 year ago
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WAIT WAIT WAIT AN!!! AN!! LISTEN! I JUST SAW THIS POST ABOUT SEBASTIAN IN A KILT AND MY MIND IS REELING OOOOHHH LORDDD IMAGINE
I THINK I KNOW THE POST YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT— the Scottish Sebastian pics have put me in the ground and so have the AI voice drabbles of him speaking Gaelic. Imagine the two together....
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tonycries · 5 months ago
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Freak On The Cam! - C.K.
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Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 6.5k
A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.
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“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”
Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.
All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna. 
In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.
Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.
“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”
“She’s also my classmate.”
“Kinky. Even better.” 
No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too. 
It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.
Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.
And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.  
“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”
Ping!
And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You. 
“Let’s make one ;)”
---
“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?”  You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 
Weird. 
It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.
It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account? 
You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.
So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?  
Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.
But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got. 
“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”
“Yes.” 
It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off. 
But so irresistible just the same.
“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”
Alas, Choso was not a strong man. 
Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion. 
Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor. 
This was absolute torture. 
And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…” 
His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice. 
And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 
“...all you gotta do is touch me.”
Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.
“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now. 
But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”
And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips. 
“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.
You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”
His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to  admit - “-virgin.”
Oh. 
Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.
With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”
And then it’s like something snapped. 
You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not? 
Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation. 
No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.
You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted. 
Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.
“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly. 
And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.
You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice. 
“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”
God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again. 
“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”
You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.
“Cho, do you want me to-”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.
You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is. 
“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”
“Oh?”
“Are y’gonna teach me how?”
Oh. Fuck.
You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.
Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other. 
You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit. 
“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”
You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”
“Like this?”
“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”
And by God, did you mean it. 
“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?” 
Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-
“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”
Ah, found it.
Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were. 
“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”
You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.
Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-
“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”
And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy. 
So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-
“Faster.”
He goes faster. 
“H-harder.”
He goes harder.
Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.
“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”
You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth. 
And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.
He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices. 
“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”
Oh. Shit, what have you done?
---
That certainly wasn��t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.
A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. 
So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm. 
But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.
In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.
Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more. 
For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?
Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet. 
“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed. 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”
“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”
Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-
Intensity setting 2.
“You’re so mean, too.”
“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”
God, he was addictive.
Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both? 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”
“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.
Intensity setting 3.
“That so?”
And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection. 
“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door. 
“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”
Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone. 
Intensity setting 4.
As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.
“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”
Cocky bastard.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”
God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.
“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”
Intensity setting 5.
That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.
Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.
“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”
Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.
“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”
Knock! Knock! Knock! 
“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”
And with that, it’s like the magic is over.
Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing. 
Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”
Close. You were so close.
A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.
---
“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”
You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-
But that wasn’t important right now.
What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”
Shit. Sukuna.
Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.
“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”
You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word. 
“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you.  Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”
A beat of silence passes. One. Two. 
And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world. 
“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”
“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”
“Just content?”
“Just content.”
“And you like that fool?”
Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”
This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”
“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”
Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”
Oh. Is that so?
And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”
---
You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully. 
You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)
Cho <3: :0 
And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?
Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all. 
He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles. 
Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead. 
Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy. 
Until now, that is.
slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.
uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter????? 
itsgenslut: idfc just fuck
“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”
You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack. 
“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”
“Mhm?”
And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.
Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”
It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”
And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.
The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy. 
It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already. 
“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”
“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”
uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??
roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh
“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”
Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game. 
“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”
A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum. 
He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?
“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.
You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”
“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”
Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over. 
“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”
You felt too good. Too perfect around him. 
“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.
Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”
Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you. 
“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”
Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will. 
Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock. 
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”
“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”
Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there. 
Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time
22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.
DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser
Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter. 
“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-
“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”
The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.
You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-
 “Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.” 
And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body. 
slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.
DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.
Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him. 
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.
Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but. 
So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you? 
Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit. 
“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”
“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”
You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again. 
“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”
Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you. 
Loved it in fact- the way he loved you. 
Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.
Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-
“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”
His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs.  So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all. 
Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.
“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”
And he knows he’s won. 
urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.
uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls
DaStrongest: invite me next time <3
“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”
Oh?
“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera. 
“Mhm?”
“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”
---
Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.
You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.
Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies?? 
You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.
Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.
Haha
Right? 
You: *girlfriend
Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?
You: Girlfriend.
Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??
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A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected. 
Plagiarism not authorized.
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ozzgin · 4 months ago
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I just finished playing Firewatch and the cozy, lonely vibes gave me another monster idea! You got a summer job as a fire watch for the closest National Park. All you have to do is to sit in your tower, and...watch. For fires. Sounds boring? Worry not, your supervisor is there to keep you company over the radio. Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior, suggestive ending
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"And? What are you running away from?"
"Excuse me?"
You raise your eyebrows at the unexpected question coming from the radio. The deep voice belongs to your supervisor, the man who'll guide you throughout your stay at the National Park.
"No one picks up an isolated job in the mountains out of sheer desire. Especially someone as young as you." He chuckles briefly, then resumes in a more professional tone: "My apologies. You don't have to answer that."
What a strange way to begin the conversation, you think to yourself. Yet this nonchalance and casualty is all you have for the following months. The other watchtowers don't talk much, if at all. You're entirely alone in the wilderness, save for the mysterious man on the radio.
Slowly, you begin to warm up to his chatty nature. He likes to ask a lot of questions. A terribly curious individual, though you can understand his reasoning: he's been working for the Park for over a decade. How does one survive without another human being?
He never leaves his tower, and thus you've never seen his face. He's content, you're indifferent. Occasionally, he'll mention sketching you to pass the time.
"How would you describe your eyes, (Y/N)?" he'll ask between his pencil scribbles. "I see. I'm sure they're beautiful. Why are you suddenly quiet? Have you forgotten how to take a compliment? I'm just messing with you, kiddo."
You haven't witnessed a single fire since coming here, despite the torrid summer heat. Your days are spent hiking without aim and talking to your supervisor.
One morning, you wake up to the grating beep of the radio instead of your alarm. You pick up the small device with an irritated grunt.
"Would you like to meet?"
You need a moment to process the words. Are you finally going to greet the one man who's kept you distant company for weeks? Intriguing. You mumble your agreement, still half-asleep.
As you make your way down the hill, you notice a supply station covered in moss and overgrown vegetation. You check your map, just to be sure. There shouldn't be anything here. What a peculiar thing to stumble upon. You approach the old wooden box and lift the lid carefully.
The musty inside is filled with rows of newspapers and some scattered notes. You pluck one newspaper out, and rest your eyes on the first headline.
"National Park is saying goodbye to its employees. The area will be permanently closed after the devastating fire."
You gawk at the title, then at the photographed location.
It's your watchtower.
You scramble to read the rest of the paragraphs, words slipping behind in your frantic search. This forest has been sealed off for years. You recognize the name of your supervisor in the report: a father of three, loved by everyone, died tragically before a rescue team could reach him.
"Found anything interesting, kiddo?"
You turn around with mild hesitation. Whoever this impersonating maniac is, or what he wants, is rather irrelevant at this point. You're trapped alone with him.
Across from you stands a creature, resembling a chimera more than a human being. Long, grotesque limbs ending in black claws, hollow eyes, and mangled rows of razor-sharp teeth put together in a grin. Monstrous.
You're out of breath.
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"That looks great", the creature remarks cheerfully.
"Don't use my voice to talk. It's embarrassing to hear myself like that", you lecture it as you spread out the food onto the picnic blanket.
It switches back to the supervisor's soft, masculine tone.
"Sorry, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable."
The monster extends one bony hand over your head, fanning out the fingers and dragging them across your hair in gentle strokes. What a precious little human you are.
You did not run away. A terrifying thought: losing you after all the time spent together. It didn't want to chase you down and make it even worse for you. But you stayed, you truly did.
"By the way", you say as you bite into your sandwich, stretching out your legs. "Is it you who prevents the fires? Usually it's a common occurrence here, especially in summer."
You recall the scorching flames from the newspaper.
"Yes. To keep you safe, you understand."
"Not only did you lie to me about the job, but you kept me out of work, too", you whine. "I got bored to death! Days on end!"
You're suddenly pushed down into the blanket, and you stare into the spiraling, empty sockets, confused.
"I can entertain you to your heart's desire, (Y/N)."
Its snout widens in a flirty smile, releasing a bizarre succession of clicks. Is it laughing in its natural voice?
You blush.
"I suppose there are some ways..." you suggest cheekily, unbuttoning your shirt.
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[More Monsters] | [More Original Works]
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sailortongue · 4 months ago
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Good Luck Charms
pairing: kenji sato x reader
summary: Kenji has misplaced his earrings and refuses to leave without a pair. so you loan him a pair of yours
an: I wrote two blurbs involving his piercings bc I couldn't decide which one I liked more. one where he wears yours (this one) and one where you wear his (here!)
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“Hey, baby, have you seen my earrings? I can’t find them,” Kenji called out from the bedroom.
“Have you checked your nightstand?” You asked as you walked into the bedroom to see him looking around frantically for his lost jewelry.
“Twice. I’ve looked all over but I can't remember where I put them. Only that when I put them down I told myself I'd definitely be able to find them there.”
You chuckled, knowing the feeling all too well. “Why don’t you just go without them? I doubt anyone will be looking that closely”
He looked scandalized at the mere suggestion. “I can’t go without them because I’m hotter with my earrings.”
“Kenji, you'd still be hot in a burlap sack. And who exactly do you need to look hot for, hmm?”
He smiled slyly “For you obviously. Can’t let people think my girlfriend has bad taste.” He shot a conspiratorial wink at you.
“Would you like to borrow a pair of mine?” You offered.
He thought about it for a moment before nodding. You walked over to your jewelry box and he sidled up next to you, browsing through your collection. He picked up a pair of chunky hoops—a far cry from his usual studs—and held them up to his ears. “These are definitely the ones,” he joked, mirthful laughter bubbling from his plump lips.
“Oh, for sure,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your words but your giggles from his antics still seeping through.
He set them back down and watched as you dug for a more suitable pair. “What about these?” He asked, pointing to a much more modest pair this time. They were a favorite of yours, ones you wore often. “It'll be like having you there with me,” he said, a soft smile settling on his face.
You melted at his sappy words. How could you possibly tell him no? You gave him permission to wear them, and he excitedly ran to the bathroom to put them in. When he came back out, the small jade studs were secured in his earlobes, the wide grin on his face displaying how pleased he was with his choice.
He walked up to you and leaned down for a kiss. “Thank you,” he said sweetly.
“Consider them good luck charms,” you said. “Now get going before you’re late.”
He swooped in for one more kiss before rushing out of the bedroom to make it to his interview on time.
-❀-
“So, Ken, a lot of your fans, especially the women, seem to be very fond of your jewelry, but they can’t help but notice you don’t wear a ring. Is there any special lady in your life? I'm sure they’d love to know,” the interviewer teased.
Kenji chuckled, knowing that you were without a doubt watching this interview live from the comfort of the living room. “There is,” he replied. He brought his hands up to finger at the delicate jewelry in his ears. “These belong to her actually. She has wonderful taste. I mean, she must if she’s dating me, right?”
-❀-
You heard the crowd laugh at his response, a grin of your own spreading across your face. The show went on a commercial break shortly after, and you decided to get ready for bed while waiting for Kenji’s gorgeous face to once again grace your screen. You entered the bathroom and stood in front of the sink, opening the medicine cabinet to grab your dental floss—but something else caught your eye. Lo and behold, there, on the bottom shelf, were Kenji’s missing earrings.
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peterman-spideyparker · 6 months ago
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Stolen Glances (College!Matt Murdock x College!Fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I've been on a writing hiatus after feeling uninspired after a long while, and I think it's kind of helped reset my creative juices. I'm entering my busy season at work, so I don't know how much time I'll have for writing in the future, but I'm back to feeling more like myself. I figured one of the best ways to return to writing was with some College Matt! Enjoy! :)
Summary: Your best friend convinces you to go out with her to a bar to celebrate the start of spring break, and to your surprise, the night takes an unexpected turn for the better when your friend calls over two people she knows from her law classes—one of whom you just so happen to have a huge crush on.
Warnings: Flirting, swearing, reader nickname (not-name specific) drinking, kissing, getting caught in the rain, smut (oral-f!receiving, Matt's mouth being a menace, praise kink, Matt being a lil' tiny touch possessive, Matt lightly biting at Reader's shoulder, p in v protected sex, aftercare)
Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, OFCs
Word Count: 6,084
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“Stop staring,” Amy says as she sips her drink. 
“I’m not,” you murmur as you roll your beer bottle absentmindedly on the sticky bar counter of Josie’s. How Amy even got you out tonight is beyond you. You don’t go to bars. You’re not even a big fan of going out in general. But tonight, you caved, and followed her in the rain to a dive bar in Hell’s Kitchen for cheep beer, gossip, and people watching. And it’s people watching that lead your eyes to land on one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. Matt Murdock—enter frantically smitten swoon here. He’s a law student with a voice like honey, a smile that could light up a room, and the best ass in the entire world.
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you had to stumble into the one that he was in.
“You are,” Amy counters. 
“Not.”
“Are.” 
“Fine,” you sigh. “Glancing. Let me have this.”
“He’s single, you know. Broke up with the girl he was dating all last year.”
“Which means he’s not looking for anyone.”
“Or he rebounds fast and wants to get under someone. Er, have someone get under him. Hell, I don’t know what he’s in to.”
“Ames.”
“What? I’m just speculating. Just like you are ogling him.”
“Again, not ogling. Glancing. Besides, he’s way out of my league. And you know what? This, right here, is a perfect situation for me—it’s a crowded bar, he’s blind, no one here knows me or cares about me and won’t think twice of me looking in that direction. This is the only time I can pine after someone and not get flustered and weird if he looks in my direction or watch Cindy from my Brontë’s class try to show off her cleavage to get his attention. And she totally would, event to the one guy that literally can’t see it. Which brings me back exactly to my point—he can’t see us here or the undoubtedly big heart shapes my eyes are in.”
“What if his friend does?”
“He has his back to us, he won’t—.”
“FOGGY!”
“You are a major asshole, you know that?” you hiss as you whip your head around to scowl at her.
“Well, now, you can glance up close, see the finer details. Maybe accidentally touch his big arms?” she says with an innocent smile and delightfully raised eyebrows. “Or something else big.”
“Be nice.”
“I’m always nice. Besides, they’re my friends. You survive Professor Murphy’s class together, you’re blood brothers for life—Hey, Fog! Murdock!”
“I didn’t know you guys came to Josie’s,” Foggy smiles as they get close enough to where the two of you sit. “If I had, I would’ve invited you to some of our post-test outings.”
“Well, Kitty here is a lightweight, so it’s not often I get to bring her to bars. I think I finally convinced her because it’s the Friday before spring break and she doesn’t have to do homework right this moment,” Amy hums. She so knows what she is doing, and you don’t know if you should kick her in the shins or be eternally grateful for how Matt turns his head to you next. 
“Kitty?” Matt smiles, and it makes your cheeks burn. He wets his lips lightly as he turns his body toward you, and you can’t help but duck your gaze and shrink in on yourself a bit. 
“An unfortunate nickname that has followed me since I was four and can’t seem to shake,” you explain. “Now that I’m not four, (Y/N) just fine.”
“It’s cute, though. Maybe you’ll tell me the story.”
Fuck, why’d he have to say it like that? You’d tell him absolutely anything he’d want if he spoke to you like that again.
“Maybe,” you breathe. “Maybe not.”
The smile he flashes you is soft, dreamy, and alluring. “Someday it is, then.”
“Why don’t you two take a seat with us?” Amy asks as she swallows the last of her drink. “Have a few rounds with us. I mean, you guys know me, but let’s include (Y/N) into the fold. Probably good that you two legal goobers befriend an English major. Help you guys avoid being duped in a contract or something because of semantics or syntax or something.”
“Offense,” Foggy scoffs.
“(Y/N)’s worst is still better than your best, and you know it.”
“Down, Ames,” you chuckle, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Remember what I said about being nice?”
“Amy? Nice?” Matt smirks. “I’m afraid we haven’t earned that privilege.”
“So, how long have you known Amy?” Foggy asks as he waves Josie over for another round. 
“Too long,” you chuckle, earning you a playful kick under the bar.
“Harsh,” Matt hums.
“For someone who’s basically my sister? Nah. We’ve been friends since we could toddle around,” Amy shrugs. “You two should understand that one—I mean, roommates for two years and essentially an identical course load? You’re as good as brothers.”
“Very true,” Foggy smiles as he opens his next beer. “I mean, sure, Matt got all the good looks, but I have the boyish wit and knack for sarcastic comments.”
“Seems like a pretty perfect pairing to me,” you add. 
Foggy claps Matt’s back with a big smile. “See that, pal? Even the people that just meet us can see we’re a perfect match! Murdock and Nelson, taking New York City law by storm! Rolling in the money, the biggest of the bigs wanting us on retainer!”
“A real life Harvey Spector and Mike Ross,” Amy says with a playful roll of her eyes.
“Take it from a blind man, Nelson and Murdock has a better ring to it,” Matt hums as he sips his beer. “And while money is nice, there’s still something really nice about saving the world.“
“Matty the Martyr,” he sighs. “You know, (Y/N), my parents wanted me to be a butcher.”
“Fog, please, not the butcher story!” Matt begs. 
“Yeah, please,” Amy seconds. “(Y/N) doesn’t need to hear it.”
“Ugh, tough crowd tonight,” he sighs. “You’ll hear about it, (Y/N) . . . someday.”
“Mildly ominous. Definitely non-threatening,” you grin before everyone starts to laugh. “So, what brings you guys out? Is this a post-test outing?”
“Nah, just a Friday night,” Matt smiles. 
“Well,” Amy says, holding up her new drink. “To just a Friday night.”
You all clink the necks of the bottles together before you drink, chatting briefly before Amy playfully insults Foggy’s pool playing skills. The two of them down their drinks before they make their way to the pool table to prove one another wrong.
“I don’t know how those two are friends, sometimes,” Matt chuckles. 
“Well, Amy has three brothers,” you hum. “She loves pushing people’s buttons like that.”
“And Foggy doesn’t back down from challenges like that. Although, I agree that Amy could wipe the floor with Fog at pool.”
You laugh, biting your lip from laughing too loud in the bar. “I won’t tell him you said that.”
“Eh,” he squeaks. “I think he knows where I stand on his pool skills. I mean, a blind guy can beat him.”
You feel your face grow hot with the attention he’s giving you, but it’s all very welcome as you both begin to chat about whatever comes to your minds. For how pretty he is and how flustered you get talking into to people you find attractive, conversation comes so easily with Matt. You feel like you could tell him anything. But that’s the dangerous thing—there’s no way this could work, as a friend or for whatever your brain could dream up. He’s too . . . magnetic. You’d misread something, and in the end, you’d be the one getting hurt. Besides, if you’ve learned anything from Amy, part of being an attorney is learning how to charm the pants off of whomever you’re talking to. And unfortunately for you, you’re just the girl at the bar he’s trying to schmooze only to never see again.
“(Y/N)?” he asks, trying to catch your attention.
“Hm?” you hum, snapping out of it. 
His face is soft, but definitely concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Y-Yeah,” you stutter. “I was just thinking of something.” 
He raises his eyebrows, silently asking if you want to talk about it, but a small pang in your chest makes you want to run away and hide in a corner. 
“I don’t think pool is supposed to take that long,” you say, changing the subject and craning your neck around the bar to try and spot your friends. “I have absolutely no idea where Amy went. It looks like Foggy’s gone, too.”
Matt lets out a small, breathy laugh with a knowing grin.
“Do you want to share the joke with the class?”
“Fog’s been on my case lately about meeting new people. I wouldn’t be surprised if he conspired with Amy.”
“You know, I’d say that’s impossible, but Amy is always trying to set me up and calling me Hermit Homebody.”
“Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue like 'Kitty'.”
“It’s more alliterative, though.”
“So,” he hums, turning his body toward yours. “What’s the story behind Kitty?”
“You’re gonna judge.”
He holds out his pinky to you. “No judgement. Promise.”
You lick your lips before you move your hand to lock your pinky with his. 
“I really loved Hello Kitty when I was little. I basically wanted to be Hello Kitty. Like, absolutely obsessed—alarm clock, bedsheets, plushies, the whole shebang. I even dressed like Hello Kitty. Yellow shirt, blue overalls or an overall dress, and a red bow in my hair, and I had Hello Kitty socks to wear with my sneakers or little Mary Jane’s. It made getting dressed easy, but it definitely annoyed my mom after a bit.”
“That’s really cute.”
“It’s really not,” you chuckle.
“It is, trust me. And, if it makes you feel any better, a lot of free public domain braille texts were legal documents; after the accident that blinded me, that’s all my dad could really get me between hospital bills, trauma therapy and recovery, and our regular bills. I read a lot of Frederick Douglas while he did boxing practice. Between reading those and my dad’s hope for me to get a good job and use my brain instead of my fists, that’s what drove me to be a lawyer. I’m not sure I would have applied to law school if not for that.”
“Wow. That’s . . . amazing. Honestly.”
His brows furrow slightly as he tilts his head down slightly. “I like to think that I’m making him proud. But I’m afraid that I’ll end up letting him down eventually. He . . . He gave me so much, he gave up so much. For me.”
You place your hand on his that’s resting atop of the bar, giving it a squeeze. “The fact that you know the extent of your dad’s sacrifices and you’re worried about letting him down means that you couldn’t possibly disappoint him.”
Matt nods and you see his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallows hard. You could swear that you see a tear roll down his cheek, but you’re distracted when he turns his hand over to hold onto yours better, lacing his fingers in yours. 
“Thank you,” he says quietly, taking a deep breath. “Hearing that . . . it means a lot.”
“It’s just the truth as I see it.”
“Do you want to get out of here?” Matt hums as he turns his head toward you. “We could grab a bite, just walk around.”
“No ulterior motives?”
“Not unless you want me to have ulterior motives.”
You look at him, your heart beating so loudly in your chest, you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Okay,” he breathes. “Then no ulterior motives.”
“I’m not opposed to stopping at the soft pretzel cart that’s a few blocks over, though.”
He gives you a small smile.
“Something funny?”
“Beer and pretzels,” he hums. 
“Har har.”
“C’mon,” he says with a little jerk of his head. “Lead the way.”
Putting some money on the counter to cover your drinks, you slide off of the barstool, your hand still in Matt’s as he mimics your movement before unfurling his cane. You both walk in comfortable silence, recalling little anecdotes from your childhoods as you stroll along the route. 
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you laugh.
“I’m not,” he says with a big smile. “I got so much hell from the nuns for it. Father Lantom put on a little show and was a little mad about it, yeah, but the ‘talking to’ that he gave me was about the Yankees game. In fairness, I honestly did worse when I was younger—probably took years off of all of their lives. Probably still do, when they think too hard about it.”
“Gosh,” you say with another laugh. “You’re such a daredevil.”
“Hey, I’ve turned out just fine. For the most part.” 
“Yeah, you’ve got a point. You seem pretty alright.”
“Pretty alright?” he croons. “I’ll take it. Any pointers for how I can increase my ranking, though?”
“Well, if I told you, it’d be too easy,” you smirk as you approach your destination. “Heya, Boyd.”
“Kitty!” he beams. “Long time no see! You’re usual?”
“That’d be great. School’s been busy.”
“You know she’s in Columbia?” he starts to tell Matt. “Smartest girl I know.”
“She is amazing,” Matt says, and you feel your cheeks burn hot.
“Matt’s one of my classmates,” you explain. 
“Ah, so you’re a smart one, too. Kitty here is one of a kind—don’t do anything stupid to loose this one.”
“I’ll do my best not to,” he smiles.
“D’you want anything with yours?”
“Mustard, please.”
Boyd hands Matt his pretzel, but puts his hand up when you try to pay. 
“Not tonight, Kitty,” he says. “My treat.”
“Don’t be silly, Boyd,” you counter. “You know our rule, only on birthdays.”
“Yeah, but you included me on your date. I feel real special. All warm and fuzzy like.”
Your cheeks burn even hotter when he says “date”— you appreciate that Boyd thinks you’re in the same league. 
“Please?” you try.
“Alright. But you’re getting your change back. This one, she always tries to scurry away before I can give her her change back!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t escape,” Matt chuckles, his hand resting on your waist, the gentle touch sending goosebumps up your spine.
“Atta boy. You know, I like this one. He ain’t that bad. Here, Kitty. Have a nice night, you two!”
“Night, Boyd!” you smile. 
“Nice to meet you,” Matt adds. Once you’re out of earshot, he asks, “How come he can call you Kitty?”
“Because Boyd has known me since I was six,” I chuckle before I take another bite of my pretzel. “You’ve gotta earn it.”
“Oh, so now you’ll let me earn the chance to call you Kitty?”
“If you play your cards right.”
“Sounds like a challenge.”
“You seem like the kind of guy that likes challenges.”
He grins and raises his eyebrows as if conceding to your point before taking a bite of is pretzel, licking up the mustard at the corner of his mouth. The absolutely obscene thoughts that cross your mind when he does that would even make a sinner in church blush—but also appreciate the sentiment. You finish your pretzels quickly, continue to walk aimlessly around and talk about whatever comes to your mind.
“Wow,” you hum as you look at a clock on the other side of the park we’re walking through.
“What?” he hums. 
“It’s almost three.”
“Seriously? No.” You feel Matt’s arms shift, and you watch his fingers slide over the face of his watch. “Shit. It’s almost three. I didn’t think we were talking for that long.”
“Me either. Not that I’m complaining about it.”
“Neither am I.”
“Maybe we’re just really slow walkers?”
Matt laughs. “It is a really nice night.”
There’s a comfortable silence before you speak next. “I don’t do this, normally. Go out—go out to a bar, no less—walk with guys aimlessly around the city.”
“Tell people the story of your nickname? Or bring them to meet your pretzel godfather?” he teases gently, and you chuckle softly and nod. 
“Definitely not either of those.” You take in a deep breath before you continue. “Something feels different tonight, though, and I like it. And I only started liking it when you and Foggy joined us at our table.”
“Yeah?” he says so softly you almost don’t hear it.
“Yeah,” you confirm. 
“If it makes you feel any better, I like it, too.”
Your gaits slow before Matt turns into you, a relaxed, dreamy look on his face. It’s not a face you’ve seen him flash the girls on campus—the cocky, over-confident swagger that’s usually there replaced with something almost dreamy and entirely genuine. Your heart starts to race as he leans in, but you both freeze in place when the sky opens up and you get caught in a sudden downpour. You squeak and he lets out a soft grunt before Matt hand grabs yours, and you rush toward the sidewalk. You raise your hand to wave down an oncoming taxi, and as you both slide in, Matt gives his address to the cabbie. 
The ride is short, but it’s definitely better than making the trip in the pouring rain. When the cabbie pulls to the curb, Matt hands him the fare and the tip, opening the door and sliding out first, waiting for you to follow. He uses his large frame to try and shield you from the rain as you run into the lobby of his dorm, tracking in puddles into the elevator. 
“Would Foggy mind if I crash here for the night? I mean, what’s left of it,” you ask, your arms hugging yourself as you shiver in front of his door. 
“You don’t need to worry about him. He’s staying with his family for the first half of break,” Matt says as he slides the key into the lock, leading you into the very nice dorm apartment. “It’s just us here.”
“Ah,” you hum softly, looking around the space. “I wish my dorm looked like this. I think I chose the wrong major.”
Matt chuckles softly as he moves about the space. “Well, each year we get better housing choices, and the ADA complaint dorms were updated a few years ago. Foggy just reaps the rewards of being my friend.”
“Well, it is very nice. Definitely decorated by boys, though.”
Matt chuckles softly, walking into what you assume is his room before coming back out in pajamas, a folded set of clothes in his extended hand. 
“Thanks,” you smile as you take the sweatshirt and sweatpants out of his hands.
“Can’t have you be chilly,” he hums. “Let’s face it—Amy would kill me if I let you catch a cold.”
“You, Foggy, and then me. In that order,” you laugh. “You know, I honestly thought it was done raining for the night.”
“I’m just glad we caught a cab. And that you let me pay.”
“Well, you gave them the address to your dorm. Seemed right that you foot the bill.”
Matt chuckles as you turn to side off your wet clothes and put on his fluffy sweater and sweats. Yes, it feels a little odd to change in front of him, but it’s not like he can see you in your underwear, and you need to get these wet clothes off. And if tonight has taught you anything, Matt is someone you feel comfortable and safe around.
“Let’s hope these dry by the morning,” you say, folding your soaked clothes and putting them over the stool in the kitchen area. 
“You can keep them as long as you need. Something tells me I’ll get them back eventually.”
You blush deeply. “In a timely manner. Promise.”
“I’m not gonna force you out when the sun comes up, you know,” Matt continues. “We can go down and throw your clothes into the dryer in the morning. Maybe go grab breakfast after they’re out.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Want to go to the living room?”
“No ulterior motives?” you smirk. 
He laughs, and you swear you just made him to blush. “No. Not unless you want there to be,” he responds. 
“I don’t think I’d be opposed to some.”
Matt slides off his glasses, placing them on the kitchen table. His eyes sparkle in the moonlight coming through the window, taking a half step forward and placing his hands on your waist. You lean in to help close the space between your bodies, and when his lips finally meet yours, you feel your heart skip a beat as electricity shoots through your veins. You slide your hands up his body to cradle is face as he pulls you in even closer. The kiss is passionate, tender, and everything that a kiss should be. When he pulls back, you’re breathless and dizzy in all the best ways. His forehead rests on yours, and you desperately wish he’d lean in for another kiss. 
“Are those acceptable motives?” he whispers, nudging his nose against yours.
“Mm,” you hum. “Very.”
He smiles, leaning in for another kiss, the force of the embrace knocking the back of your legs against the sofa. You pull him into you, knocking the pair of you down on the couch, his body crushing yours in the most glorious of ways for a moment until he can position himself better on the furniture. His hands have a firm grip on your body, sending wave after wave of chills up your spine as you chase his lips for more kisses. One of his large hands cradles the back of your head, holding you closer so he can gain better access to the kiss, and you realize his glasses aren’t perched on his face anymore. You don’t even know when he would’ve have a chance to take them off. But do you really care? 
No. No you don’t.
As you make out, Matt slides you onto his lap, giving you a bit more leverage as you embrace. You lips mirror one another’s, curving up into smiles. You take in a sharp breath as you feel his hands slide under the sweater and up your back, the simple action sending goosebumps up your spine. You moan into the embrace and lean forward to deepen it, accidentally nipping his lower lip between yours. It elicits a strong response from Matt, his fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave little bruises as souvenirs before moving up to tug at the hair at the nape of your neck. His fingers should have their own insurance policy, because wherever they trace on your body feels like a million dollars—the warmth, the strength, the grip—goes straight to the apex of your thighs. Firm, relaxing, and downright sinful.
You pull back from the kiss, Matt’s swollen lips chasing yours as you lean away, turning your head to yawn. 
“Am I putting you to sleep, sweetheart?” he smirks, softly kissing your neck before moving so his face points toward yours. 
“You’re definitely relaxing me, that’s for sure,” you tell him as you look back at his face. “It’s just been a really long week.”
“We can stop if you want.”
“You stop, and I’m telling Amy and Foggy.”
“Oh, well, we can’t have that.”
“No, we can’t.”
With more smiles, you lean back into the kiss. Matt’s grip is firm on your waist before sliding his hands down and over the globes of your ass, moving to your upper thighs before lifting you up. You’re too focused on his lips to try and watch where he’s taking you, even though you have a good idea. You moan into his mouth as you feel Matt lay you down on his mattress.
“At least if you get a little too tired to keep going, you can fall asleep in a bed,” he whispers before he starts to kiss your neck.
“So kind of you.”
“I try.” He presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Can I keep going?”
“Yes. Definitely.”
Matt flashes you a devilish grin before leaning back in, his hands sliding up under the borrowed sweatshirt tracing the curves of your body.
“You can take it off, you know,” you murmur against his lips. “It’s your shirt, after all.”
He hums in delight, doing as you ask and ridding the fabric from your body and pushing it to the side. “You’re chilly now,” he hums kissing all over the exposed skin, pulling soft moans from your throat. 
It’s your turn to slither your hands up against his rock-hard body under his clothes, lightly raking your fingernails along his skin. “What’re you gonna do about it?”
“I have a few ideas.”
“Then show me.”
Matt’s lips slot back over yours, tasting every ounce of your mouth that he can. He pulls back, whipping his shirt off. You’re unable to prevent your jaw from dropping when you see his exposed chest, a little wooden cross hanging from a cord around his neck a strong contrast from his fair skin and rippling muscles. It doesn’t hang too long, the space between the two of you closed just as swiftly as it was created before his hands deftly undoes your bra. Matt’s hands slide the straps down your arms, tossing it to the side before his large hands palm at the fleshy mounds, his hips inadvertently beginning to roll against your legs. 
“Mm,” you hum as you start to mark his neck. “I’d say we’re moving fast, but, I like where we’re moving. Seems like you do, too.”
“Fuck,” he hisses. “Let me lay you down and make you feel good, angel.”
“Mm, ‘angel’,” you smirk as you pull him on top of you. “Sounds better than ‘Kitty’. Better not be calling any other girls that.”
“It’ll be just for you. Swear.”
“Good.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna try and stop earning the right to call you Kitty, though.”
“Consider it earned. Can even call me Kitten. Now, please tell me you have some condoms here.”
“Mm, I do. But, the thing is, that pretzel left me hungry, angel. I need to eat a little more.”
Your brows furrow before Matt holds your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. He trails his kisses down the column of your neck, moving lower with each embrace, down your chest and torso until his lips reach where your skin and his sweatpants meet. 
“Is it okay if I pull these down, sweetheart?” he asks, pressing feather-soft kisses on your stomach. “Can I kiss you there? Can I taste you, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you breathe a little too quickly, moving your fingers into his soft hair. “Please.”
He smiles, kissing your belly button before curling his fingers round the waistband of the sweats and underwear and sliding them down your legs. His strong hands gently part your legs, exposing yourself to him, his soft, pouty lips kissing back and forth along your inner thighs until his nose brushes the slick folds. A soft moan escapes your throat, so quiet that you almost don’t hear it. As soon as it leaves your lips, you swear you hear Matt growl a little before diving in between your legs. This time, you moan louder, your back arching off of the bed and your fingers clutching the sheets. 
“Matt!” you squeak. His hands are firm on your hips, keeping his face buried in your core, tasting and savoring you like you’re the sweetest of desserts. Your chest heaves as you squirm against him, but each movement of your body only spurs him on to hold you tighter. He hums into your pussy, the vibrations working all the way up your body. 
“M-Matt,” you stutter, feeling yourself get wound tightly as he works diligently between your legs. “Matt, I—oh, fuck!”
Matt just hums, keeping pace and enjoying the taste of you on his tongue. You continue to whimper, whine, and squirm, biting your lip harder as you get closer to your release. You suck in a sharp breath when you feel Matt pull away from you, his face in your direction, his mouth and chin shiny with your slick.
“Don’t hold back, angel. I’ve got you,” he pants. “Make those pretty noises for me. It’s just you and me, okay? Don’t worry about if anyone else can hear. It’s just you and me.”
“Okay,” you say breathily with a frantic nod. “Okay.”
“Good girl.”
You could cum with those two words, and the quick twitch at the corner of his mouth tells me that he knows it, too. With a lick of his lips, he dives back down without missing a beat, sliding two thick fingers into you, gently pumping them and curling his fingers to squish against the perfect spot that makes your vision go spotty. You let out your loudest cry of the night, the sheer volume hurting your throat a little. It elicits a deep growl from Matt, and with one more lick, you’re quaking and unraveling on his face. Little tremors continue to jolt through your body as Matt works to lick up every last drop of you before pressing a soft kiss on your swollen nub and kissing his way back up your body. 
You lean up and crash your lips into his, desperate for him. Matt eagerly kisses you back, letting you taste yourself, exploring how you mix with him. 
“Are you up for more?” he pants as he pulls back, trying to smooth down your tousled hair. 
“Please,” you say, the faintest hint of a whine in your voice. “I’m ready.”
Matt smiles, pecking your lips quickly before leaning back and taking his sweats off. Your eyes involuntarily widen when you see just how big he is. If tonight with Matt hasn’t ruined other men for you yet, the feeling of him inside you and how it will undoubtedly linger for days will.
“You okay?” he pants as he works to slide on the condom.
“I’m doing great,” you swallow, trying to remain coherent through the bliss. 
His laugh is like warm tea with honey.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
With the condom firmly on, he leans forward to kiss you slowly. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
Matt kisses you again, adjusting the pillows behind you as he lines himself up with your entrance. He places his hands on you gently, forehead resting on yours, before carefully starting to slide in. You bite your lip as your eyes flutter shut, your head suddenly becoming too heavy as you let it roll to the side and rest against his neck. 
“Matt,” you breathe.
“Prefect,” he pants as he slowly pushes forward. “Perfect.”
“M-Matt,” you whimper as you stretch around him. “Big.”
“Do you need me to stop?” he whispers. “Does it hurt?”
“N-No. ’s great. So great.”
“Say the word if you need me to stop, okay? If it’s too much?”
“Okay.”
Your faces turn toward one another, and for the briefest of moments, Matt’s eyes lock onto yours. You feel your heart skip a beat and jump up right into your throat. This is ridiculous—tonight is the first time you’ve actually met him rather than stare at him and wish from a distance, and it’s like your entire universe is on its head. Matt tenderly leans forward, his lips on yours, fueled with a softer passion than what has dictated your embraces for the night. The roll of his hips is slow, and you feel everything ten times over. You hold onto Matt as if your life depends on it, and you let him work as he marks up your neck and shoulder with little bites. 
“Don’t stop,” you plea. “Don’t stop. Matt, please don’t stop!”
Your pleas and whimpers spur Matt to pick up his pace. As he does so, his own soft moans grow louder in your ear, and it drives you wild. The springs of the mattress move from a quiet creak to an all consuming squeak, perfectly punctuated by the headboard hitting the wall.
“Matt!” you cry out, pulling probably harder than you should at his hair. 
“Such a good pussy,” he grunts. “All for me. You’re so good for me, angel. Feel so perfect.”
“Please!”
“Hm?”
“Fuck, Matt! You’re—oooohhhh!”
“Perfect f’me, angel. Such a good girl. My good girl.”
The sound of your slapping skin adds to the erotic symphony in the room, sweat quickly lining your bodies. You whimper as you nuzzle into him, muttering incoherent sentences as his pelvis rubs against your sensitive core, building you up to knock you over with intense pleasure. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders and pull a deep growl from the back of his throat. He nips at the sensitive skin behind your ear before slotting his lips over yours.
“Matt,” you whimper, really drawing out the vowel in his name. “Matt, ‘m gonna cum.”
“Let it out,” he encourages. “Cum for me. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good. Let me hear you, angel.”
Matt kisses the sweet spot on your neck and pulls a needy whine from you. A stuttered whine pulls from your lips as your eyes pinch shut and you claw your fingers into Matt’s back. You cry out at the top of your lungs as a second wave of pleasure washes over you. With Matt in you, dragging against every right spot, it feels so much better than with his mouth. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, and you cry out in pleasure even louder. The pace of Matt’s hips move even faster, albeit at a more unsteady rhythm with an increased sense of urgency as he tries to soothe the sting of his teeth. His moans turn into grunts, a delight to your ears. 
“Harder,” you beg. “Harder, Matt.”
You feel Matt nod his head against yours, doing as you ask, his lips brushing faint kisses against your cheek. You cry out once more, Matt’s hips pulling one more orgasm from you as he hits his high, spilling into his condom with punctuated thrusts.
Your breathing is heavy as your bodies still, sweat clinging to your skin and soaking the sheets. You chuckle softly as Matt places gentle kisses along your neck, his nose tickling you just so before pulling himself off of you and sliding out. He does it slowly, and you moan softly from the sensitivity and the loss of him. He ties off the condom, shuffling out of bed to throw it away. Matt briefly rounds the corner, coming back with a towel in hand. Without a single word, he carefully spreads your legs, gently cleaning the mess between your thighs. His lips softly kiss your knees and thighs has he works, and you can’t help but smile. He tosses the cloth to the side, it landing perfectly on the edge of his hamper. Matt slides back into bed, wrapping his arms around you and letting you adjust in his hold, kissing your forehead.
“What?” he whispers so softly you want to melt.
“You have freckles,” you whisper back just as quietly as you look up at him. “They’re a little hard to see, but they’re there.”
“Yeah?” he says with a tender smile.
“Mm.” Carefully, you move your fingers against the skin on his cheek, tracing over the faint constellation on his fair skin. 
“What?” he whispers again with a little smirk. 
“How do you know I’m thinking?”
“Call it a hunch.”
You smile softly. “It’s just . . . I wasn’t planning on coming out tonight. I don’t go out. I don’t go to bars. I don’t do this. Any of this.”
“I think you mentioned that earlier,” he hums with a cheeky smile. God, his voice is like a warm blanket that you just want to snuggle up in. 
“It just felt right, with you. I’m really glad I came out tonight.”
“Can I let you in on a secret?” You give him a hum in response. He pulls you closer and presses a long, slow kiss to your lips. “I’m really, really glad you came out, too.”
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chrzzboo · 1 month ago
Note
okay, hear me out. I've had this idea in my head for so long and have never found anything like it.
Lando Norris falls for a FAN! She lives in England or France or Monaco, they meet somewhere that’s not the racetrack and somehow he falls in love. He knows she’s a fan so it’s hard for him to admit that he fell for her.
Just another fan
Summary: when meeting a fan in an unusual encounter Lando couldn’t help but feel attracted by her presence. The only thing stopping him? Her being his fan.
Note: first of all I couldn’t be more thankful for all the support all of you have showed me on my comeback stories and I’m very grateful for that! Thank you for your request anon, I hope this lives up to your expectations! Have fun reading!
Reader x Lando Norris
Genre: fluff/angst(ish)
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I was in a frantic rush. Late for my uni lecture again. The coffee cup trembling in my hand as I weaved my way through the bustling café. Engrossed in my thoughts, I didn’t watch where I was going, and then it happened – the inevitable crash. Coffee splattered everywhere, including all over the stranger in front of me.
I froze in horror, my face turning a deep shade of scarlet. "Oh god, I-I'm so sorry!" I managed to stutter.
Lando reacted with a bewildered expression, looking down at his now-stained shirt before turning back to me.
"It's alright," he said, an amused twinkle in his eye despite his coffee-stained shirt. "Accidents happen."
I fumbled for words, trying to apologize profusely, and yet, I was struck by his casual demeanor. This guy, this person I had just spilled coffee all over, was handling the situation so much better than I was, and it was only then that I glanced at his face. My heart skipped a beat. Lando Norris. I was standing in front of Lando Norris.
Lando chuckled again, the sound rich and warm, as he watched me struggle to compose myself. "You know," he said, the smirk on his face softening to a more genuine smile, "Most people would at least recognize me before pouring coffee all over me."
"I’m… I’m so sorry," I repeated, still struggling to overcome my shock. My brain was still trying to process the fact that I was standing in front of one of my favorite drivers, and I’d just managed to make a complete fool of myself in front of him.
Lando’s smile held a hint of understanding, and he waved off my repeated apologies. "Seriously, it’s fine," he reassured, glancing down at his coffee-stained shirt. "This isn’t the worst thing that’s been spilled on me, trust me."
In spite of the situation, I found myself feeling a little relieved at his casual acceptance. The initial wave of embarrassment was beginning to recede, replaced by a more manageable feeling of awkwardness. "Still, I feel terrible," I said, trying to force a sheepish smile. "Let me at least pay for the dry cleaning, or something…"
Lando shook his head, his expression growing more amused. "Dry cleaning’s not necessary," he replied, waving off my offer. "But considering you just soaked me in coffee, perhaps you can make it up to me?"
My heart skipped a beat at his words, my stomach twisting, already thinking of the worst scenarios.“How?” I asked weakly, trying to keep my composure.
Lando leaned against the wall, his eyes flicking over me for a moment, taking in my flustered state. "Simple really," he said, a hint of a challenge in his voice. "You buy me a new coffee, we’ll sit down, and you can make it up to me by keeping me company."
My breath caught in my throat for a moment, my mind racing. Lando Norris, asking to spend time with me? It was too much to process. But there was no mistaking the gleam of interest in his eyes. He was serious.
"Oh euhm okay," I managed to stammer out, my cheeks flushing under his gaze. "Coffee. I can do that."
Lando’s smile widened, a satisfied expression on his face as he gestured for me to lead the way to the counter. As I turned, heading towards the counter to order the coffee, I could feel his eyes on me, and my heart thumped in my chest.
This was really happening. I was about to buy coffee for Lando Norris. 18-year old me wouldn’t believe this.
As we waited for our coffees, the silence between us was filled with a tension that I couldn’t quite describe. Lando seemed relaxed, but I could almost feel the energy radiating from him. I couldn’t help repeatedly glancing at him, marveling at how someone could look so good, even after having coffee spilled on them.
After getting the order, Lando led the way to a small, secluded table in the corner of the cafe. I followed, trying to hide the fact that I was a bundle of nerves. Sitting down across from each other, I clutched my coffee cup like a lifeline. The silence was tangible, broken only by the soft hum of other patrons in the cafe.
Lando took a sip of his coffee, his gaze never leaving me. After a moment, he leaned back, a hint of a smile on his lips. "So," he began, his voice soft but clear, "You’re a fan, aren’t you?"
My eyes widened at his question, and a wave of unexpected shock washed over me. I hadn’t expected him to pick up on my fan girl status so quickly. It was obvious, I guess, but I also didn’t want to invade his privacy.
"I… uh… well," I fumbled for words, my face heating up. "I am a fan, yes."
Lando chuckled, his eyes never leaving mine. "It’s okay, you don’t have to deny it." He took another sip of coffee. “I could tell the moment you realized who I was."
I fidgeted in my seat, feeling exposed under his gaze. "Was I that obvious?" I muttered, cursing myself for my lack of subtlety.
Lando leaned back in his chair, that amused smile still on his face. "Let’s just say you weren’t very discreet. Your face lit up like a Christmas tree when you realized who you were dealing with."
I couldn’t help the embarrassed laugh that escaped me. "I guess I’m not very good at hiding things, also I didn't know you would be in England this week." I admitted, trying to play it down with humor.
"No not at all.” He laughs at my comment. “And yeah I came down to visit my family for a bit." Lando added, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "And don't worry about it, it’s refreshing, actually. Most people either don’t recognize me or try to play it cool when they do. You were like a deer caught in headlights."
I let out a soft groan, burying my face in my hands. "I must have looked so ridiculous," I mumbled, my words muffled by my palms.
Lando reached out, gently pulling my hands away from my face. His touch sent a shiver down my spine. "No, it was adorable," he corrected, his voice holding a hint of sincerity beneath the humor.
I looked up at him, my face probably aflame. Was he seriously calling me adorable? "You’re just saying that," I muttered, taking a gulp of my coffee to distract myself.
Lando laughed, a sound that sent a wave of butterflies flying through my stomach. "No, I mean it," he insisted. "You didn’t try to act all cool and casual around me. You just… reacted. It was honest, and it was cute."
And soon the conversation between us started flowing.
After some time, I glanced at my watch, my eyes widening at the time. “Damn, my lectures…” I muttered, realizing I’d missed my class.
Lando, who seemed oblivious to the time as well, shot a look at my watch. “Oh, right,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “Guess we got carried away.”
I was gathering my bag and taking one last sip of coffee, my mind still swirling with questions when Lando spoke up.
"Before you leave," he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I was wondering if I could get your number."
The casual request caught me off guard, but I quickly recovered. "My… my number?" I repeated, already pulling my own phone out of my bag.
Lando chuckled at my surprised expression. "Yeah, your number. You know, so we can stay in touch."
I fumbled with my phone for a moment, unlocking it and pulling up the new contact option. "Of course," I said, my mind racing. This was really happening. Lando Norris was asking for my number.
I slowly handed him my phone, watching as he tapped in his number. He handed it back to me, our fingers brushing together in a brief, electric moment.
"There," he said, a sly smile on his lips. "Now you’ve got my number, and I’ve got yours."
I looked down at my phone, seeing his contact information displayed. I couldn’t believe it. "Thanks," I said, the word feeling incredibly inadequate considering the whirlwind of emotions racing through me.
Lando pocketed his phone, his gaze never leaving me. "Don't mention it," he said, a genuine smile on his face. "It was… good talking to you. You know, despite the coffee incident."
I laughed, the nervous energy of earlier shifting into a more comfortable banter. "Yeah, sorry about that. I promise not to spill anything on you next time we meet."
Lando chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "I’ll keep that in mind. Wouldn’t want to have to start a coffee-stained shirt collection because of you."
The image of Lando with a closet full of coffee-stained shirts flashed through my mind, making me laugh again. "Trust me, that’s the last thing I want," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder.
There was a beat of silence, both of us seeming reluctant to end the conversation. Finally, Lando spoke up. “Well, I should let you get going,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of regret. “Can’t cause you to miss another uni lecture, can I?”
I nodded, although a part of me didn’t want the conversation to end. "Yeah, you’re right," I replied, a small sigh escaping me. “I had a really nice time talking to you.”
Lando’s smile widened, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. “I enjoyed talking to you too,” he said, a sincerity in his tone.
After bidding goodbye to each other, I pushed through the door, the cool air of the city hitting me, but I barely registered it. My mind was still reeling, replaying every moment of our conversation on a loop. As I walked away from the café, I couldn’t help but grin like an idiot.
As I walked, thinking about earlier events, my phone buzzed in my hand. I looked down to see a text message popping up on the screen. It was from Lando.
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I smiled at my phone, still not believing that I met the Lando Norris who’s weirdly enough interested in me.
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yourusername Didn't skip class for a cute guy or anything 🤷🏻‍♀️
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bffuser: Girl u was literally fangirling
yourusername: Oh shut up you would act the same
frienduser3: Fangirling? Did we miss something?
yourusername: No no don't worry nothing special
frienduser3: 🤓
frienduser1: Why you always spilling coffee on people 🤣
yourusername: Don't expose me now, I told you this information in pure trust 🥲
frienduser2: Y/N it literally happened a week ago as well
yourusername: I don't like any of you 😒
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Weeks flew by in a blur of texts, calls, and busy schedules. Work and uni left little room for much else. But despite the distance, Lando and I kept in touch daily.
One day, as I was buried under a mountain of notes and textbooks, my phone buzzed with a new message. Expecting another funny meme from Lando, I was surprised to see a different message.
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With that decision made, the conversation shifted to practicalities. We discussed the details of my arrival, where I’d be staying, and what to expect during the race weekend. By the end of the conversation, the excitement had far outweighed any lingering doubts. The countdown to Silverstone began.
Meanwhile, Lando was caught off guard when his best friend, Max Fewtrell, came up from behind him and slapped him on the shoulder. “Oi, what’s got you grinning like that?” Max asked, raising an eyebrow.
Lando quickly composed himself, putting his phone away. “Nothing,” he said, attempting to play it cool. “Just talking to someone, that’s all.”
Max wasn’t convinced. “Is it a girl?” he pressed, a smirk on his face.
Lando cursed inwardly. Max had a knack for sniffing out stuff like this.
“Maybe,” he admitted, his voice betraying a bit of reluctance. “But it’s nothing serious.”
Max’s eyebrow shot up again. “Not serious? Then why are you smiling like a fool over some texts?”
Lando huffed, running a hand through his hair. He knew he wasn’t fooling Max with this act of aloofness.
“Fine. There is a girl. But it’s complicated.”
Max’s smirk widened. “Complicated? That’s an interesting way to put it. Why is it complicated?” he asked, leaning against the wall, obviously enjoying Lando’s discomfort.
Lando hesitated for a moment, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Because… well… she’s a fan.”
Max’s expression turned a bit incredulous. “A fan? As in, a fan of yours?”
Lando nodded, a mixture of defensiveness and uncertainty in his eyes. “Yes. A fan. She was at a café where I was hanging out, and we just started talking. And now we talk all the time… but she’s a fan, and I don’t know if it’s a good idea to get involved with someone who already has an idea about who I am.”
Max’s smirk softened slightly into a thoughtful expression. “I get where you’re coming from. But just because she’s a fan doesn’t mean she likes you for the wrong reasons,” he said, a hint of reason in his tone. “And people change their perceptions. What if she gets to know the real you and falls even harder?”
Lando considered Max’s words, knowing he had a point. “I know… but what if she’s more interested in the idea of me, the driver, than who I really am?” he voiced his biggest fear.
Max shrugged, a knowing look in his eyes. “Then you’ll figure that out when you see her. If she’s serious about you, she’ll look past the whole ‘F1 driver’ thing. But if you keep worrying about what could go wrong, you’ll never find out what could go right.”
Lando sighed, torn between the possibilities and the risks. “You’re probably right,” he admitted, a hint of resignation in his voice. “Maybe I’m just overthinking it. I don’t know if I’m ready to take that gamble though.”
Max gave Lando a knowing look. “You’re already knee-deep in this mess, mate. You’ve been talking to her for weeks now, clearly you’re invested. If you wanted out, you’d have stopped talking to her ages ago.”
Lando sighed again, realizing the truth in Max’s words. He hadn’t even thought about ending things with her. “Damn it, I guess you’re right,” he conceded, frustration in his tone. “I’m already in too deep, aren’t I?”
Max chuckled, patting Lando on the back. "That’s right, mate. You’re in 'too deep' alright. You've been acting like a lovesick puppy every time you message her. It's pathetic, but also sickening cute.”
Max smirked, amused at his friend’s predicament. “Well, you’ve got your Silverstone race next week. Maybe that’s a chance for you to see how things really are when you actually meet in person. Then you’ll know if this is worth pursuing or not.”
Lando nodded, his face set in a contemplative expression. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll see how it goes when she comes to the race. If it feels off, I’ll end it. But I'm afraid it might be too late for that, I already fell for her I'm afraid.”
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The day of the Silverstone Grand Prix finally arrived. I’d spent the morning getting ready, excitement and nerves bubbling up inside me. I checked my reflection one last time before grabbing my bag and heading out the door.
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frienduser1: Girl is this why you weren't present in class today?
yourusername: Maybe 🤷🏻‍♀️
frienduser2: Now how did you do that then
frienduser3: You could've atleast asked me to come with you 🤔
yoursername: Sorry girl was a last minute typa thing 😬
bffuser: Slay girl get that man
yourusername: 🤫
frienduser2: @bffuser what are you hiding?
frienduser3: Yeah I would love to know that too 🤨
bffuser: 🤐
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With the sun high in the sky and the sounds of the race already starting to fill the air, I made my way to the circuit, following the signs and directions to the specific spot Lando had told me to meet him.
As I walked through the gates of the Silverstone Circuit, a sense of awe washed over me. The sights, sounds, and smells of a Grand Prix weekend surrounded me, and it was all so surreal. I had watched races on TV countless times before, but being there in person was a whole different experience.
The enormity of it all sunk in, making me feel both excited and slightly overwhelmed. It was one thing to see the action on a screen, but here I was, standing in the pit lane, surrounded by teams, cars, and the buzz of the event actually happening in front of me.
I continued to wander around, taking in everything. The mechanics working on the cars, the engineers huddled around strategy screens, and the drivers walking around with their confident strides – it was all so different from my usual life.
But what intrigued me most was the thought of seeing Lando in this environment, the stark contrast between the relaxed person I'd talked to countless times and the focused, professional driver he would become once he stepped into his car for the race.
I kept checking my phone, waiting for further instructions from Lando. He'd told me which area to meet him at, but I hadn't gotten any more specific details yet. I tried to distract myself by watching the practice sessions, but my mind kept wandering back to the thought of finally seeing Lando after weeks of just talking through a screen.
The practice sessions ended, and I still hadn't received any other instructions from Lando. I started to get a bit nervous, wondering if I was in the right spot or if something had come up with him. Just when I was about to reach for my phone again, I heard a familiar voice behind me.
"Hey, you looking for me?" Lando asked, his usual carefree grin on his face, looking slightly sweaty from the heat and the practice session.
I turned around, my heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. He looked every bit the professional racer standing there in his McLaren gear, but his familiar smile instantly made me feel more at ease.
"Lando! I was starting to wonder where you were," I replied, a mix of relief and excitement in my voice.
I was momentarily caught off guard when Lando suddenly opened his arms for a hug. But I quickly recovered, returning the gesture. His embrace was warm and firm, grounding me in the moment. We stepped back after a few seconds, both of us wearing grins.
"It's good to finally see you in person again," Lando said, his eyes crinkled with genuine happiness. "I can't believe you're actually here, at the race."
I chuckled, feeling a sense of disbelief myself. "Believe me, I can't believe it either. It feels surreal, being here in Silverstone, watching the race this close. And to think, I'm here because of you," I added, a hint of teasing in my tone.
Lando chuckled at that, seemingly enjoying the banter. "Well, what can I say? I have that effect on people." His playful confidence was undeniable.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes in mock annoyance. "Oh, don't get too big for your boots, Norris. I didn't come all this way just to inflate your ego."
He feigned shock at my words, a hand going to his chest dramatically. "How dare you! Are you saying my ego isn't already inflated enough?" Lando joked, his eyes sparkling with humor.
I let out a laugh. "Oh, it's plenty inflated, trust me. But seeing you in your element does inflate it just a bit more, doesn't it?" I teased back, enjoying the easy banter between us.
After some more light-hearted banter, the moment came when Lando was called back to his team for the pre-race preparations. He looked a bit reluctant to leave our conversation, but the responsibilities of being a racer were clear.
"I have to go," he said reluctantly, the shift in his demeanor noticeable. "They need me for the pre-race stuff. I'll be back after the race though, yeah?"
I nodded, understanding the necessity of his duties. "Go on, go do your thing. I'll be here, watching the race and cheering you on." I offered him an encouraging smile.
Lando returned the smile, a flicker of gratitude and something else in his eyes. "Thanks. And remember, if I win, you owe me an extra long chat tonight. Deal?"
I laughed, shaking my head at his request. "If you win, you get an extra long chat huh? But how about this? If you win, dinner will be on me."
Lando's eyebrows raised, intrigued by my counteroffer. "Dinner, huh? You know how to motivate a guy to drive faster, don't you?"
I shrugged, my tone light and playful. "Consider it incentive to win. Loser pays for the winner's meal, deal?" I held out my hand, waiting for his response.
Lando's eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and challenge. He took my hand, shaking it firmly. "Deal. Loser pays for dinner after the race. I better win then."
I winked, a confident smile on my face. "Just don't get too cocky now. I might surprise you, and you'll owe me a nice dinner."
Lando chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter and the friendly competition. "Just you wait and see."
The race was a whirlwind of tension and excitement, with each lap filled with nail-biting moments and heart-stopping turns. But finally, the race ended, and Lando emerged victorious.
I watched as he crossed the finish line, his car pulling into the pit, the radio buzzing with congratulations from his team. He made his way out of the car, helmet off, a satisfied but tired expression on his face as he spotted me waiting.
He jogged over to where I was standing, the adrenaline of his win still very clearly in his eyes. "Well, look who it is," Lando said, his tone filled with satisfaction and a hint of exhaustion. "Looks like I won. That means you owe me dinner, doesn't it?"
I put on a mockingly dramatic pout, playing along. "Oh, how will I ever recover from the shame of having to pay for a rich racing driver's meal?" I dramatically clutched my chest, feigning distress.
Lando laughed, the sound rich and carefree. "Come on, don't be a sore loser. You made the bet."
I sighed, pretending to give in. "Fine, fine. Loser pays. You drove a good race, I'll give you that. But don't get used to me paying for your food."
Lando's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Oh, I won't. But I'll definitely enjoy tonight's dinner, on your dime."
As we talked, the high of his victory was still palpable, but reality set in quickly. Lando was being called to attend his media duties, giving interviews and press conferences.
"I've got to go do all the media stuff, but wait for me in my room, alright? I won't take too long," Lando said, his expression still excited but a little distracted already.
I nodded, understanding that his responsibilities as a racer came first. "No worries, I'll wait in your room. Take your time with the interviews and stuff. I'll see you later."
Lando gave me a brief smile, a mix of gratitude and impatience. "I'll be there as soon as I can. See you later."
He quickly kissed me on the cheek before being whisked away by a member of his team, leaving me behind shocked after his little action but I quickly composed myself knowing I'm in public. I started walking to find my way to his room to wait.
As I was waiting in Lando's room, I heard a knock on the door. Expecting Lando, I called out, "Come in!"
But it wasn't Lando who entered, it was his best friend Max Fewtrell. I knew Max from the times Lando had talked about him, and I was surprised to see him. He too seemed to recognize me.
Max walked in, shutting the door behind him. He gave me a friendly smile. "You must be the girl Lando's been talking about," he said, his voice warm and amiable.
I smiled back, a bit embarrassed at the fact that Lando had been talking about me to his friends. "Yeah, that's me," I replied, feeling a bit nervous in the presence of Lando's best friend.
After Max and I started talking, he casually mentioned how Lando and I had gotten quite close lately. He then added, "Funny, I never expected Lando to go for a fan like this. He was a bit hesitant at first, worried you were going to take advantage of him or something."
His words shocked me. "Wait, what do you mean? He was concerned about me being a fan?" I asked, feeling a pang of hurt and confusion.
Max nodded, the honesty in his eyes clear. "Yeah, he was. Lando didn't want to admit it, but he was scared that you were just interested in him because he's a driver, that you weren't really into him for who he truly is."
I was taken aback, feeling the sting of doubt and hurt. "I can't believe he thought that," I managed to say, my voice soft. "I've been talking to him because I genuinely like him, not because he's a racing driver."
Max sighed, his voice softening. "I think he was just cautious, you know? He gets a lot of attention from fans, and he's had some bad experiences with people pretending to be something they're not. He didn't want that with you."
I was quiet for a moment, mulling over Max's words. A part of me understood Lando's worry – I could imagine the sorts of people he'd encountered – but it still hurt to know he had doubted my intentions all this time.
Max could see the mix of emotions on my face. "Look, Lando really likes you. He does. But he was just scared, that's all. He's been burned before, and he didn't want that to happen again. He didn't want to fall for someone who was only interested in his fame, and not in him as a person."
Max's phone rang suddenly, breaking our conversation. He checked the screen. "Ah, sorry, I gotta take this," he said apologetically. "Lando should be back soon, though. Just talk to him, alright?"
I nodded, managing a small smile. "Yeah, I will. Thanks, Max."
He gave me a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Good luck," he said before exiting the room to take his call.
Now left alone again, I was left with all the thoughts and feelings stirred up by my conversation with Max. Lando was on his way back, which only added to the whirlwind of emotions I was trying to sort through.
I leaned back against the wall, my thoughts chaotic. How could Lando have doubted me? Our connection felt genuine, didn't it? Was all of it just an illusion? Did he see me like just another fan of his? The idea filled me with confusion and hurt.
The sound of the door opening caught my attention, and Lando walked in, a smile still lingering on his face, his adrenaline from winning the race still evident. But as soon as he saw me, his expression faltered, replaced by a look of concern.
"Hey," Lando said, closing the door behind him. "Is everything okay? I just ran into Max, and he said that he talked to you before I got back. You seem upset."
I looked at him, the weight of my emotions clear on my face. "Yeah, Max spoke to me before he left. He told me a few things, about you being hesitant about us because I'm a fan, about you being worried I'm not interested in you but just in your career..."
Lando's expression changed from concern to a mixture of guilt and defensiveness. "That idiot," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I can explain..."
I crossed my arms, waiting for him to continue. "Explain, then. Was Max right? Were you really worried about me being just another fan interested in your fame and not in you?"
Lando let out a heavy sigh, sitting down on the edge of the couch. "It's not that simple," he began, his voice unusually serious. "I've had my fair share of people using me for my career. You have no idea the number of people who pretend to care just because being with a driver comes with perks. It makes you wary, okay?"
I tried to understand his point of view, but it still hurt. "I understand that you've been through stuff with others, but you know I'm not like that. I've been nothing but honest and genuine with you. How could you doubt my intentions, especially after all we've discussed and shared?"
Lando looked at me, his eyes earnest. "I know, I know that now. I was just scared, alright? I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you were like the rest. It was stupid, I know, but I couldn't help how I felt."
I pursed my lips, my hurt feelings still not fully soothed. "It's not just stupid, it's hurtful. It makes me feel like you didn't trust me this whole time, like all the things we've shared and the connection we've made didn't matter."
Lando groaned, his face a picture of guilt and regret. "You're right, okay? I was an idiot. I should've trusted you from the start. I shouldn't have let my past experiences color my interactions with you. I'm sorry, really."
I sighed, his words offering some relief but not erasing all the hurt. "I want to believe you, Lando. But words are just words. How do I know you won't keep doubting me in the future? How can I trust that you truly believe I'm here for you, not your fame?"
Lando stood up, moving closer to me until he was standing right in front of me. He looked me straight in the eyes, his voice soft but firm. "I promise you, I won't doubt you again. I see now how wrong I was to question your intentions. And I realize that you are not just any fan. You're special, to me. I never should have let my own fears and insecurities cloud that."
His words were sincere, the remorse and regret clear in his eyes. But a part of me still felt hesitant. "How can I be sure, Lando? How do I know this won't happen again, that you won't second-guess me every time we have a disagreement or a bad day?"
Lando took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "Because, the truth is, I... I have feelings for you. Real feelings. Feelings I can't ignore or deny anymore. And the thought of losing you because I was too scared to trust is... terrifying. And I may always joke around and not take things serious but the feelings I have for you are real how cringy it may sound."
My heart skipped a beat at his words, my eyes widening in surprise. I had suspected he felt something for me, but hearing him confirm it so openly caught me off guard.
"You... you have feelings for me? Are you sure?" I asked hesitantly, not quite believing what I was hearing.
Lando nodded, his gaze unwavering. "I've never been more sure of anything. I tried to fight it, to ignore it, but I can't. I've feelings for you, and they're stronger than my own insecurities and fears. I'm sorry it took me so long to admit it, and I'm sorry for doubting you. But please, believe me. This is real for me. You're real for me."
I looked at him, searching his eyes for any sign of dishonesty. But all I saw was vulnerability, sincerity, and a deep, genuine affection. "I... I don't know what to say," I stuttered, still processing his confession.
Lando stepped closer, his hands gently resting on my arms, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. "You don't have to say anything right now," he said quietly. "Just... don't give up on me yet, okay? Let me show you that I mean what I say. Let me prove to you that I do trust you and that my feelings for you are real."
Without any more hesitation, I looked into Lando's eyes and let the truth spill out. "I have feelings for you too, Lando. I have for a while now. I never thought you'd feel the same way, so I tried to downplay my feelings, to make them seem less real than they were."
Lando's eyes widened at my confession, a mixture of surprise and relief on his face. "You do? You really do?" he asked, as if he needed to hear it more than once to believe it.
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yes, I do," I confirmed, my voice filled with conviction. "And it makes what happened even more painful, knowing that you didn't trust me, that you thought I was just another fangirl."
Lando winced, the truth hitting him hard. "I was an idiot, I know. I should've just been honest from the start. I should've trusted my heart instead of letting my fears take over."
Lando looked at me, the guilt still evident in his eyes but mixed with hope now. "So... you forgive me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
I took a moment to consider, thinking it over. "I do," I said finally. "I understand why you acted the way you did, even if it hurt. You've been hurt before, and it's hard to trust again after that."
The tension in the room lessened, and Lando let out a sigh of relief. Then he stepped closer, his hand gently lifting my chin. "Thank you," he murmured.
I could feel my heart rate increasing as his face moved closer to mine. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of love and relief. Finally, he broke the remaining distance between us, his lips gently touching mine in a soft, lingering kiss.
The moment our lips met, it was like a spark ignited inside me. I felt a rush of emotions, a mix of relief, joy, and a deep affection for the man in front of me. I kissed him back, pouring all of my feelings into it, wanting him to truly understand how much I cared for him.
The kiss lasted for what felt like a sweet eternity, our lips moving against each other in a tender dance that expressed all the sentiments we both felt. When we finally pulled back, we were both breathless, our foreheads touching as we shared a look that was filled with newfound understanding and love.
After our heartfelt confession and that beautiful kiss, Lando looked at me, a small smirk on his face. "You know, we make quite a pair," he joked, his thumb brushing against my cheek. "A fan and a driver... pretty unconventional, huh?"
I laughed, swatting his hand away gently. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. Just wait until the news gets out. The tabloids will have a field day."
Lando chuckled, pulling me closer to his side. "Let them talk. As long as we're happy, does it really matter what they think?"
I smiled, leaning against him, feeling the warm, solid presence of his body next to mine. "Maybe you're right," I conceded, resting my head on his shoulder. "Besides, I think I kind of like being unconventional."
Lando wrapped his arm around my waist, his chin resting on top of my head. "Good, because I'm not sure traditional would suit us anyway," he teased, nuzzling my hair affectionately.
We stood there for a moment, enjoying each other's embrace, the world outside the room seeming a little less important in this small, private moment of ours.
Just as we were basking in our shared happiness, the door suddenly burst open, startling us both. Max stood in the doorway, a cheeky grin on his face.
"Well, well, well, look who finally figured things out," he teased, his tone light and playful.
Lando groaned, rolling his eyes before grabbing one of the pillows on the couch and throwing it at Max. "You couldn't knock, could you?"
Max dodged the pillow with a laugh, holding his hands up in surrender as he backed out of the room. "Okay, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone," he said, his voice filled with amusement.
Lando and I exchanged a look, both of us shaking our heads at Max's antics. We had a feeling he would be teasing us about this for a while.
After Max exited, closing the door behind him, Lando and I were left alone once more. We both started laughing at the absurdity of the situation, shaking our heads at the antics of Max.
As our laughter subsided, Lando looked at me, his expression soft and affectionate. "I'm still glad he walked in and forced us both to admit our feelings tho," he said, pulling me closer.
I nodded, a smile playing on my lips. "Me too. Max has always been a bit of a nudge, but he means well."
Lando wrapped his arms tighter around me, his chin resting on top of my head. "He's also going to be a huge pain in our asses, you know that, right?" he said, his voice amused.
I chuckled, leaning back into his embrace. "Oh, I'm fully aware," I agreed, a hint of resignation mixed with amusement in my tone. "We'll never hear the end of it from him."
Despite the inevitable banter we'd be subjected to in the coming days from Max and undoubtedly others, we both knew that it was worth it. Being able to hold each other like this, the weight of unspoken feelings lifted, made everything else seem secondary.
We stayed there, enjoying the quiet comfort of each other's company, both knowing that our unconventional love story was just beginning.
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yourusername Crazy to think that it all started because of my clumsy self ☕️
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landonorris: Never been happier with someone spilling coffee on my shirt! Love you gorgeous ❤️ by author
yourfrienduser: So this is what you've been up to huh 🤔
bffuser: Slay girl my bestie is a wag y'all
yourusername: girl chill 🤣
yourfrienduser2: Alright girlie I see you, I would ditch uni for that reason too 🫡
ln4youlover: Is this the girl he was seen with last time?
carlando554x4ever: Yeah that's her it was confirmed by Lando on his insta
formulaonemaniac4: They're so cute together!
lalalando4youx: She was his fan first y'all, do you know what that means?
landosbrokennose4: It means I have a chance with Lewis Hamilton
forformula81: Yeah no chill all of you 😳
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landonorris There's nothing better then geting P1 in my home race, with the best support I could ask for!
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yourusername: So so so proud of you Lan ❤️ by author
maxfewtrell: Still haven't got my credit for helping
landonorris: oh shush mate 🙄
calossainz55: Well done cabrón!
landonorris: Thanks mate!
danielricciardo: Yeah we have much to talk about mate
landonorris: 👀
81osclvr: Brb going to sleep on the highway today 🙃
lnqdformulaone: They're honestly the cutest thing ever
love4ln4shoes: The fact that she was his fan made me more delulu 🤭
forwarverstappen1: This isn't some kind of fanfiction girl 💀
love4ln4shoes: Let a girl dream damn 🫤
The end
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stunie · 4 months ago
Note
ume would absolutely malfunction if he saw you in a thong/ g-string for the first time
UMEMIYA HAJIME X F!READER! — nsfw ノ explicit smut ノ note: aaa i wrote this right before going to bed !! hope it came out okay >: i loooved this prompt !! thank u sm <3 kissing you ^ ^ mwa
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“W-wait, wait, here?” You ask incredulously, hands frantically yanking the edge of your dress back down as you shift in Umemiya’s lap. You were already in enough of a predicament as it was. the dress you had on was short— maybe a little shorter than you had originally thought. Pulling it too far down your thighs only meant that your tits would show from the top, and pulling it back up to cover them better would have your ass spilling out from underneath instead.
“Just one peek!” He whines, and you whimper when his big palms begin roaming up and down the sides of your waist. “Pretty pretty please?”
He’s leaning closer, close enough to the lightly nip at your ear, and you shudder as soon as his breath fans against your skin. “Mmm, you just look so pretty, baby,” he whispers, strong arms wrapping around your middle to pull you back against him. “And you smell so good. It’s getting a little hard for me to ignore.”
One quick glance at the pleading look in his eyes is all it takes for you to crack.
“F-fine…” you grumble, warmth flooding your cheeks as you tear your gaze away from him. You don’t even have to look his direction to know the cheerful smile he’s giving you in response, and you think it’s pretty easy to tell from the way he’s immediately back to tugging at your dress the second the words leave your mouth.
“But hurry. They can come back at any time..”
He chuckles. “Mhm, don’t you worry. Just one little peek at my girl.”
You’re hesitant when you lean forward on his lap, your hands coming to balance yourself on the table just in front, ass pressing further into his bulge as he pushes your dress up. He hums again, smiling at your embarrassment, but it dies down in an instant, abruptly stopping his movements as soon as he’s met with the unfamiliar laced thong, breath hitching right in his throat at the sight.
He knows for certain you’ve never worn that. He definitely would have remembered.
“Whoa,” his finger loops under the string in wonder, pulling it up as you yelp, ass accidentally pressing harder against him in response. “This one’s new, isn’t it?”
He’s pinching it between his fingers now, pulling it up and down, watching the way you shift uncomfortably each time the fabric catches against your clit.
“Stop that!” You twist your body to weakly swat at his hand, but he’s only yanking it up even higher, the thong slipping deep between your folds as you hiss. “H-Haji!”
“Sorry,” he chuckles, but you tell his jaw is clenched from the way his words sound, a bit deeper and unsteady, and his breaths are suddenly coming out ragged. “Just can’t seem to help myself.”
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perfctvelvet · 5 months ago
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can you do sabrina carpenter!!
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Happy Fucking New Year; Sabrina Carpenter/Fem!Reader
Content: 2nd POV. Strangers, alcohol mention, semi-public (hooking-up in the bathroom of some rich person's house), making out, oral sex
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No one wanted to be alone this New Years and you were no exception. The only problem was that your friend, the one who happens to the social butterfly brought you to a party where you don't know anyone here besides her. Everyone was dressed to the nines; shimmering dresses with make up to match and expensive suits. Having a friend who works in PR was an unexpected perk in her life, but having a friend who works in PR means when you're out they're always in networking mode. Coming here, to some random person's mega-mansion, was thrilling at first but the shine was beginning to dull immediately.
You had lost your friend somewhere in the fray of the fancy just less than an hour before midnight. Many people were here with partners, spouses, and lovers, and to you it seemed like you and your friend were the only single ones. You didn't let it get to you because you had her, but now she was gone. All you had was your too-small purse and a vodka soda you weren't a big fan of.
Just as the night couldn't get more painful, someone bumps into you. There was no love lost for the beverage that you spilled but now it was all over your dress. You may have been feeling alone, but your dress was the only thing you had. You got it one random day in the summer at the encouragement of your friend that she will give you a reason to wear it. You felt confident walking out of the car tonight and into the party. That was only two hours ago and oh how everything seemed to cave in.
"Fuck! I'm so, so sorry!"
This woman who bumped into you sounded sincere in her apologies. At first you thought you were being mocked, but the way she tried to wipe off your dress before it could stain seemed too real.
"I-It's okay."
You couldn't even bring yourself to look at her. Instead you were looking around you at the people who were beginning to look at the commotion. You were hoping to lock eyes with your friend so she could rescue you, but she was still nowhere to be found.
"Ugh! C'mon!"
Before you could register what was going on, you were being dragged away by the woman who ruined your dress. You were too relieved by being saved from the embarrassment to make a fuss. She lead you to one of the many guests bathroom in the house. She was bold, shutting the door behind you two and almost forcing you to sit on the counter. She grabbed one of the fancy, embroidered towels and wets it to continue her efforts to save your dress. Even though you appreciated her eagerness to fix her mistake, you can't help but be enamored and a little amused by the situation.
"It was just a vodka soda. Don't worry, it's not going to stain my dress."
It seems as if your voice is what gets to her. She slowly stops frantically wiping off the parts of your dress that is covered in vodka and looks up at you. She's stunning, so much so that you begin to lose your confidence.
"I hope I didn't take you away from whoever you cam here with." She finally puts the towel down and you get to hear her voice in a more relaxed state.
"No, no, I just came with a friend, but I lost her somewhere so I was just kind of by myself." You felt like a loser saying that out loud, but something lights up in the stranger's eyes at your confession.
"Glad I'm not the only one here feeling a little dejected."
"What do you mean?"
She points to the spot next to you, gesturing if she could sit beside you. There was plenty of space on the counter and she didn't have to ask, but you made space for her anyway.
"What was supposed to be a girls' night New Years Eve get together turned into us coming here, and just like you I have no clue where my friends with."
It wouldn't be shocking to either of them if their friends found someone gorgeous and well-off to talk to, but you were sure your friend was more concerned with making connections than the imminent countdown to the new year. You empathized with this woman, but still couldn't get over the shock that someone who looks like her was feeling the same loneliness tonight.
"I guess that's a common theme tonight. It's never really happened before so I think that's why it stings so much. I'm Y/n by the way."
"Sabrina," she sticks her hand out for you to take which you do. You two shake hands for a few seconds before breaking away. You felt like you had made a new friend tonight and you were a little proud of yourself. You were never the most sociable one in the room, so it's fitting that your main way of meeting new people is through an embarrassing moment.
"You said you came here with a friend? Just one? Are they a friend or a friend."
"Just a friend. We were roommates one year in college and I reached out to her when I moved out here to LA. She's always been primed for this kind of life, not me, so I needed her to guide me through the upsides and downs of living here."
"There are a lot of ups, like being invited to some rich ass dude's New Years Eve party. The downs would be the perpetual loneliness that seems like a requirement."
"I take it you've been in LA for years?"
"Almost two decades now. Feels like it's been a life time."
"Do you like it? I've only been here for two years and I'm still figuring out how I feel about it."
"Well, like you said, it has it's ups and downs. Some times there are more downs than ups, and vice versa. I would say right now that sitting in the bathroom of a boring party with a pretty girl who is being kind to me after I fucked up her dress is one of the ups."
You break eye contact with her to spare yourself the embarrassment. You feel a heat creep up your neck and beat you right in the face. You never learned how to take a compliment without completely crumbling. You already found Sabrina to be interesting and pretty, but now your heart was starting to beat out of your chest.
"And I hope this doesn't sound weird, but I'm kind of glad I literally ran into you. I saw you earlier in the party and I couldn't stop staring at you. I hope I don't sound like a creep."
"No, not at all! I'm just shocked to say the least."
What snapped you out of your shock was the sound of people cheering and getting rowdy outside of the bathroom. At first you feared someone was going to come in, ruining your solace. But then Sabrina checks her phone and sees that it's almost midnight.
"Two more minutes then it's 2024. I'll be honest, Y/n, I didn't expect to spend my last minutes of 2023 like this. I sort of feel like a klutz."
"Don't be sorry. Like I said my dress is fine, just a little sticky, but one wash it'll be alright."
The both of you end up getting distracted by the rowdiness outside the door. You were half tempted to get up and join them just to watch everyone ring in the New Year together, but you stay put. You notice how Sabrina isn't budging and you get the impression that she wants to stay with you in her last moments of 2023. Soon the start the countdown.
"10...9...8...7..."
In just a few seconds you feel fingers weave through yours and Sabrina grabbing your face. You let her control your body, turning your head to face her.
"6...5...4..."
It takes just seconds for your heart to flutter with an emotion you haven't felt in a long time.
"3...2...1...Happy New Year!"
Sabrina's lips meet yours on the very first syllable of "happy." For the first time in years you genuinely felt the meaning.
At first it felt innocent, just two lonely souls filling the void together, but Sabrina didn't want to pull away. She kissed you deeper, harder. The lust was radiating off of her and it was overwhelming. The last way you expected to bring in the new year was a bathroom hook-up, but surprisingly you weren't turned off to the idea. No one has ever come on this strong to you before and being in LA you were beginning to think you were a love repellant. This kiss left your breathless and starving for more. You grab onto Sabrina, unintentionally laying one hand on her breast in the process. Neither of you seemed to care as your tongues bumped against each other's. It was becoming a little sloppy, with Sabrina taking you there, but you enjoyed it. There is a hint of lemon on her tongue and you wondered why type of drinks a girl like Sabrina would drink. She was bold, yet refreshing.
Sabrina pulls away, panting and her lipstick smudged. She's looks a little messy now but she smiles regardless. She's so happy that you're receptive to her touch and that you seemed to enjoy the kiss too.
"Was that too much?" She wipes the edges of her mouth.
"I think we're beyond the point of worrying about what's too much now."
You're the one to lean in this time. You continue what Sabrina started, the blonde leaning into this time until she wraps her arms around your neck. You were at the point of no return and you wouldn't dare turn back. You wanted more; you wanted her.
"Do you think you can be quiet?" You ask her between kisses?
She hums affirmatively against your lips before you break the kiss. She moans breathlessly when your lips land on her neck. So much for being quiet because her moan fills the room. Of course the party outside still raged on as being in a whole new year put a new life into the party. The sound of the bass of the music thumped against the walls, but nothing could overtake the sound of Sabrina's sweet moans. You finally get between her legs, your knees pressed into the soft rug. She places her legs on your shoulders and you come face to face with her pussy. It didn't surprise you, but seeing her without panties made your face grow hot.
"I hope you don't mind, I left them at home," she says with a salacious tone.
You didn't mind at all, you were happy to have easier access to her wet pussy. You can't go another minute without it seeing what she tastes like. Sabrina whines when your face disappears between her legs under her dress. She pulls it up and catches the very moment your tongue meets her dripping sex. She moans so loud that she has to put her own hand over her mouth. You lick and lick and lick and somehow she's able to keep herself from screaming out in pleasure. It was like you knew her body and knew what buttons to press. She feels a rush run through her and she's on cloud nine. Never has a stranger made her so happy and feels so good. She moves her hand from her mouth and promises herself she'll be good and keep as quiet as possible. She knuckles turn white as she grips the edge of the counter.
"Oh Y/n that feels so fucking good," she whines. "I've been thinking about this all night."
The thought of someone being so turned on by you that they fantasized about it after seeing you once was astounding. You were shocked to have that power over someone, especially over someone so beautiful. You felt lucky, lucky to be invited here (the party and between Sabrina's legs). You pull away from her pussy and rub her clit.
"Did you want me so bad that you spilled a drink on me?"
Sabrina doesn't answer, just moans as she throws her head back in pleasure. You stop rubbing her clit to insert a finger into her pussy. When she feels your tongue back on her clit paired with the finger inside of her she almost cums. But she wants to savor the taste, feel this forever. She thinks she's strong enough to hold herself back, but your fingers are stronger than her will. You insert another one into her and her walls wrap warmly and tightly around the two. Your hitting the spot that makes her legs shake. Sabrina desperately wants to cry out loud, but she wouldn't dare risk getting caught and letting the moment end. She's so so close, tettering on that blissful edge. You kiss her inner thigh not once, or twice, but a few times. It makes her legs shake. She forgets about trying to hold back when she feels the 5th kiss pressed to her thigh.
She fears that you might get turned off by how hard she cums, but you enjoy it very much. She closes her eyes, bites her lip, and tosses her head back in ecstasy. A tear runs down her rosy cheek too. Her make-up is probably too fucked up for saving, but no one is going to care, so neither does she.
"Earth to Sabrina...you here with me?" You tease her. You're not sure if she likes that, but she just let you eat her out and finger, a little teasing is harmless in comparison.
She opens her eyes a few seconds later and a sweet, relaxed smile forms on her face.
"People are probably looking for us," you say to her when she finally looks down at you.
"Let them look."
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dancingisdangerouss · 2 years ago
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I think you started loosing readers when you first started taking a break cause of the copying thing. There arent't a lot of people reading grabber fics in the first place and after you stopped posting regularly, it decreased. That's what I noticed at least.
Whatever, I hope this situation gets somehow solved because it's really irking and I miss the positive funny vibes that were going on here!
Oh most definitely, it was very disheartening. I had a large following up until I returned to work from medical leave, and then from there I had more medical issues, something traumatic happened to me that I’m still working through, and my anxiety got so bad that it’s been causing me stomach issues.
So it kinda sucked—I understand people didn’t want to wait around, but it was sad to see them all disperse when I needed the support the most, y’know? But that’s definitely when the decline first began.
So I don’t blame the other fic for my lack of comments, but I was sad to see that mine all ducked out in my absence and started supporting a knock-off (at the time I was still thinking I was just seeing things, so it was sucky, but a lot of other remaining grabber fics have also been getting long commentaries and feedback, so it wasn’t just her story).
It’s hard because I feel pressured to get chapters done quicker to keep people from abandoning the story, but I’m also trying to take care of myself as best I can. Just sucks that my mental and physical health has been in decline, and I’m doing my best to tread water.
That’s also why writing is so important to me; I’ve done creative writing since I was practically a toddler (if anyone ever wants to see some of my cringey shit from when I was like 12, just ask 😂 But be warned that it’s reaaally bad lol), and started a club in school. It’s always been my best way of coping with stress.
I’ll admit, I’m an attention Whore. Not in the “look at me!” sense so much as…like, the equivalent of a kid showing an adult their crappy crayon drawing and being happy when the adult is like “wow good job!”
I’m basically a dog: I need constant reassurance, head pats, and treats. I think it’s because I’m attention-starved (probably from childhood stuff) and highly insecure, so if I’m not getting positive feedback, I wilt like an unwatered plant.
Basically, the part about the comments section was added because, while the other ones with all the replies are a little deflating to see, when I put together all this evidence for her fic, it felt even worse that my work was being recognized elsewhere.
I’ve also been getting major sexist vibes (not literal, but the same tone), with the opposing side treating me like my anger is somehow unwarranted—like when a guy is being an asshole to a woman and she inevitably bites back, and they’re like, “Wow touchy! Calm down and learn to take a joke!” I guess they’re disappointed I’m not still being meek and not letting them step all over me anymore.
I hope it does, too. I really appreciate y’all’s support immensely; the sooner this gets dealt with, the sooner I can relax fully and go back to enjoying my blog.
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reiderwriter · 6 months ago
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Satisfaction Feels Like a Distant Memory
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Chapter Three of I Can't Help Myself
Summary: Your mounting attraction to Spencer Reid pushes you to the edge, turning begrudging friendship to deep hatred when he finally shows up on your doorstep. He's the only thing that can out you out of your misery even as you sink further into it.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, hate sex, rough sex, argument as foreplay, oral (f recieving) and face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, forced orgasms, "forced" submission, creampie, p in v penetrative sex, etc.
A/N: I've had about as much sleep as the reader in this fic has for the last week, but HERE IT IS! Chapter Three 🥰 You may need a bottle of water on standby, or at least a hand fan, because this one gets a bit heated....
Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist!
You hesitated in front of your office door, which you supposed was going to become a bad habit of yours now. You tried lying to yourself, that nothing was different now, that you weren't attracted to him in a completely stupid way, but you still stood frozen in front of your own office door. 
Frozen and horny. 
Shit. 
You mentally went through a list of the worst things that could happen if you went in. 
1. He was there. 
2. He wasn't there. 
3. He was there, and he touched you again, and you moaned. 
4. He was there, and he didn't touch you again, but you still moaned. 
5. He was there, and you threw yourself at him immediately because why wouldn't you when you'd seen what you could be working with the night before? Fuck moaning once, moaning multiple times as he pushed you against the bookshelf would- 
“Are you gonna go in, or are you just going to fondle the door handle?” He asked from behind you. From too close behind you. 
You turned, keeping the doorknob in your grin, and immediately flattened yourself against the door as he took a step closer. 
So close. He was so fucking close and it was suddenly all you could think of. 
“W-What?”
“You know, the CDC warns that door handles should be washed every 20 to 40 hours To prevent bacteria like Escherchia coli and Staphylococcus aureus from-” You ignored his words, drowning everything else out as you tried to dampen the fire burning under your skin.
“Cock?” You said, all attempts obviously not working. 
“Staphylococcus, yes. It can cause Adenovirus, Rhinovirus, not to mention-” 
“Okay! Okay, Spencer. Taking my hand off the handle now.” 
Finally, you twisted it and walked backwards into your room, walking backwards a few steps before your foot caught on a stray pile of books. 
“What the-” you cried, waiting for the impact of your landing as you swung out your arms frantically for purchase, screwing your eyes shut as you found none. 
Instead, you found an arm snaked around your waist, another wrapping your hip tight as Spencer Reid cradled your body to his own. 
“Thanks,” you breathed out, not even hearing the words yourself for how much air was in them. How was it possible to expel air and hold your breath at the same time? Because that was how it felt being in his arms: at once a sigh and a stopping of all bodily functions barring want. 
“I thought this was your office, Y/N. Surely you should know the layout by now.”
Moment over. You pushed at his chest to stand upright, and he stepped backwards, removing his hands from your person. 
“Very funny. We both know these are your books. Setting traps for me now, Spencer?” 
You moved around the piles of books again as he flicked the light switch, moving the opposite way around your desks, before meeting you again next to yours. 
“You're usually more observant than this. Is there something wrong today?” 
“What, like Adenovirus or Rhinovirus?” 
“No, like something…” he searched for the right words, pace slowing as he tried not to scare you away by talking with you like this.
“Like something on your mind.” 
You snorted, leaning down to switch on your computer, and also to avoid his eye contact. Unfortunately, academic curiosity had gotten to you in the last few weeks, and you'd read some of his psychological papers. You knew exactly what it was the BAU was apparently so good at, and you didn't want him to know that you'd imagined him balls deep in you hours before. 
“Not friends, Spencer. If there's something I need to talk about, I'll talk to a friend,” you said, standing straight again and turning to him again. You still avoided eye contact, but it didn't matter. His eyes weren't on your face but angled further down, like he'd been checking out your ass as you bent over or something. 
No. No, you weren't going down that train of thought. 
“Or even better, my therapist.” You were planning on the words being a bit more playful, but your voice came out deeper than you expected it, more gravely somehow. 
Your bedroom voice, you were using your stupid fucking bedroom voice on Spencer Reid. 
You cut yourself off again before you said anything else. Before he touched you or didn't touch you, and you got to test your earlier theory about which would be the more demeaning reaction. 
“I have class in ten. Clean up before I get back,” you ordered, and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when he replied. 
“I don't take direction well, Y/N.” 
No, you didn't think he would. Neither did you though.
For a week, you tiptoed around the man, your words sharp, but your body weak to him. 
By day, you were hurling insults back and forth, messing up his papers and screwing with him via bookshelf again. 
“YOUR…FLY…IS….OPEN.” 
“VERY….MATURE.”
“MADE…YOU…LOOK…THOUGH.”
“BUSY….LOOKING…AT…OTHER….THINGS.”
“LIKE…THE…UNDERGRADS…THROWING…THEMSELVES…AT…YOU…?”
“LIKE…THE…PROFESSOR…I'M APPARENTLY…DATING” 
“Very fucking funny, Spencer,” you sighed at the last message, throwing the books off the shelf and pilling them up on the floor. 
“Don't even for a second entertain the idea of making that gossip a reality.” 
He grinned at you from behind his desk. 
“Okay.”
“Don't even - don't even think about it,” you said, stepping over his desk and poking at his chest as his smile deepened.
“Heard.” 
“I'm serious, Spencer, don't-” 
“You've thought about it.” You froze in shock at his words, as if your blood wasn't sure whether to run cold or burn hot and fast. 
“What?” You spat the words at him, unable to stop them coming out any other way. 
“You've thought about entertaining the gossip. You've thought about it a lot.” 
You needed to deny him, but he was right. By day, you tried to torment him, but by night, he did torment you. A week of wet dreams, of imagining him taking you over every inch of your office, of sleepless rest and failed orgams, and you could not escape. 
“No,” you said with a whisper, shaking your head and trying again even as your voice cracked from the lie and your body's cry for pleasure, for this man. 
“No, I haven’t- I don't-” You took a deep breath, but you knew it was no good, as his hand grabbed yours and flattened it against his chest. 
“Your pupils are dilated, your pulse is heightened, and your legs are practically clamped shut. Your mouth is dry, and I'm not sure if you've noticed yet, Y/N, but you're shaking.” 
“All signs of anger, Spencer, as you're well aware.” 
He let go of your wrist and sat back in his seat, just out of reach of you again. 
“Shame,” he whispered under his breath, nearly low enough that you didn't catch it, as he flipped open his book and continued whatever the fuck it was he even did in this office. 
You ignored it, anger really flooding you now, warring the heat of arousal that was firmly settled in your body for dominance. 
The anger won out. 
You grabbed books from your desk, files, and papers from the side table by the couch and your laptop from your desk and left the room quickly. 
You slammed the door, and you didn't look back, knowing that if you did, you'd see his winning smirk staring right back at you.
You marched yourself right to the staff administration office and put in for a week of leave. Spencer had one more week of work at the university, and then he would go back to being a regular FBI agent. 
Your paths wouldn't cross because you wouldn't let them cross, not when it meant for certain that you would give in.
You spent the week working to distract yourself from work. You finished books for your next semester courses, highlighting the better articles and essays to use, going through each bibliography to find better sources if they weren't good enough. You wrote more of a research paper you didn't have time to think about with so much going on. You corresponded with students, with TAs, with the other professors who wanted to know where you were. 
Okay, that was a lie. You aired the professors, but you did look out for any inboxes from him. Surprisingly, there were none. 
You spent a week throwing yourself head first into your work, and still, each night, you felt his phantom touch on you. No matter how exhausted, your brain still co jured images of his hands grasping your wrists, pushing them above your head and forcing his cock into you, his lips biting against your skin, the fire of his kisses leaving scars where they trailed down. 
You were running on three hours of sleep per night, sure, but at least you were as far as you could possibly get from the man ruining your life. 
You poured yourself a glass of wine the next Sunday, knowing that when you went back to work the next day, he'd be gone.
You wrapped yourself in blankets and put everything else off for the day, ordering food and eating it and not moving as you worked your way through boxes of pizza. 
It was when you finished your first glass and went to pour yourself another that there was a furious pounding at your door. 
“Y/N, I know you're in there, open the door.” His hand sounded again, and you nearly dropped the glass at the sound of Apencer Reid's voice. 
Your body acted alone, immediately following his directions as you damn near tripped over your own feet to open the door for him. 
Throughout all of your arguments, all of the quips you'd thrown at him, every stupid little thing you'd done to get under his skin, you had not once seen Spencer Reid looking this angry. 
His brow was furrowed uncomfortably, as if it were frozen in place. Gone was his perpetual smirk. 
“Spencer, what the fuck a-” 
“Thoughtless. Careless. Do you even know what you've done?” He snapped at you, stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind himself as he immediately walked into your space and began touching things.
“Stop! Fucking stop it, Spencer!” You said grabbing his arm and pulling him around to face you. He brushed you off quickly and worked his way through papers you'd left on your coffee table. 
“No. You stormed out over a week ago, you blocked my number, you did not answer any of my emails-” 
“I didn't get any emails,” you spit back, pushing yourself between him and your things now, bodies so close they were touching. 
“Then you blocked my email, too. You don't even know what I'm looking for or the damage you could have done, do you?” His hands were on you then, not threateningly, as you'd expect, his anger still burning through him if his shaking voice had anything to say for it. 
His hands stroked up your sides and back down again, smoothing away your need to think. 
“My files. My team sent me a file. It was on the coffee table, and you took it with you when you left. The case is ongoing, and I'm flying out tomorrow, and without some of the classified information in that file, we will be at a disadvantage. Our odds of catching our unsub fall from 83% to 47% without all of the pertinent information.” 
Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer. 
“So yes, I'm going to go through your things, and if you're a good girl, you'll root through with me and help me find it.” 
He stepped away then, and you held your tongue. As much as you hated him, he was right. You knew what he did, you knew who he was and to trust him not to lie to you about his chances without this information. 
“The files on the coffee table are research notes, everything I took from the office is in that case over there,” you said pointing at a bag still where you'd dropped it by the door a week earlier. 
He walked to it and rooted through it quickly before finding the file he obviously needed and letting some of the tension out of his shoulders. 
“You're probably glad to see the back of me, right?” He said, laughing bitterly as he turned back around to you. 
“Obviously not as happy as you are,” you spat back, stepping back over to him. 
“If you ever speak to me that way again,” you started, spitting at him in the most threatening voice you could muster. “It won't be a fucking unsub that ruins your life.” 
“And how are you going to manage that, Y/N?” He said, stepping closer to you until he had you backed up against the wall, trapped in by his bigger frame, using it to his advantage to intimidate. 
“How will you manage to ruin my life,” he said, his voice softer as he finished his sentence, but not by much. “When you shake with just every time I get close?” 
“This is not lust,” you growled the words out, but try as you damn might, you were shaking, vibrating even. 
“Then what is it?” 
“Hatred, dislike, loathing, detestation, abhorrence, fuck Spencer, you can pick up a thesaurus yourself and find out.”
“Yeah. Okay. I'll believe your lies for a second.” He walked away, he was walking away but the fire was ringing in your ears and you needed him to stay fucking put so he could take it all. 
“You're a jackass.”
“Original.” 
“You slammed into my life, expecting me to bend to your will and be at the mercy of your needs, your wants. Your office space, your fucking case files, your job-” 
“None of that was my choice.” 
“And it wasn't mine either, but at least I fucking left you alone. I spent the week in this apartment and left you the fuck alone, and you couldn't even allow me the same.”
His focus was back on you again, but you refused to be backed against a wall this time. 
“What did you say?” 
“You will not let me know peace. I have lost my security, my patience, my fucking sanity with each word you have said, my peace of mind, my sleep, my fucking sanity, Spencer.” Your chest was heaving, touching his with each exhale as he too held his place in front of you. He was so close, you'd practically spat the words directly into his mouth. 
“How is that my fault?” He whispered, voice still dripping with disdain even as his hands again wrapped themselves in your hair, and he tugged your head back, baring your neck to him as he leaned down into you. 
“How do you know that you're not doing the same to me?” 
You refused to answer, though, meeting his eyes for one last second before you grabbed his hair in your hands and yanked him down to your mouth. 
It wasn't so much a kiss as a battle for dominance, each trying to torture a surrender from the other with clashing tongues and teeth. 
You made the first move, but he was obviously expecting it, and he didn't even pause before launching his own attack, finally pushing past your strong defence to walk you back to the sofa you'd abandoned earlier. 
His tongue still lashed against yours as you retreated, refusing to give up your upper hand even as you moaned into his touch. The couch hit the back of your knees, buckling, and you silently cursed your lack of sleep for leaving you so unstable right now. 
No, that wasn't true. It was him. He had left you so unstable, moving between happy and playful to angry and wrathful in the space of a week without you, and you'd been denying yourself the ability to even entertain any of this happening. Now that it was, your body was unprepared, totally at his mercy, as he pushed you to your back and pushed up your skirt. 
“You're already so fucking wet,” he groaned slipping two fingers inside you as you moaned around him, no longer capable of thought. This was the moment, this was when he was going to make you submit to him finally. 
Instead, he dropped to his knees and you gasped as his to guess found your sweet cunt and he began sucking to your clit. 
You were on fire, skin scorched from the inside out, spreading in waves from your pussy to the furthest regions of your body. 
With one hand, he spread your thighs further apart and pushed his entire face further into your cunt, tongue pushing inside right by his fingers, nose pushed right up against your clit as he didn't relent. Every movement was another curse falling from your mouth. 
“Shit, Spencer, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, hips rocking back and forth as you tried to fuck his face, begging for more. 
To your surprise, he didn't keep your hips still but let you keep riding his face, riding his fingers as you chased your first orgasm.  
It came quickly, overwhelming you with the impact, jolting through your body like a lightning bolt as he let your hips shake and crash across his tongue. 
When he finally pulled his face away, it was glistening, and he wasted no time shoving his tongue back in your mouth. His message was clear - he may have let you take whatever pleasure you'd wanted with him, but he was still the one in control. 
You trailed kisses along his cheeks, neck, shoulders as he divested himself of clothing, shirt, belt, pants, ripping at yours to free your body as well, until the two of you were only left with underwear and you'd picked up every last drop of your cum left on his skin.
“On your back, now,” he said, and you complied. You spread your legs, and rubbed at your still wet cunt, jolting as he finally lined himself up with your cunt. 
But he didn't push in yet. Instead he wrapped two arms under your knees and pulled you closer, so his cock rested over the top of your stomach, and leaned down, his face hovering inches over your own, holding himself up with a forearm rested just above your head. 
“You see that?” He said, glancing down. “That is how much I am going to fill you. That is how deep I am going to ease into you. That is how far I am going to go to claim you. You can take it like a good girl, right?” 
“Just shut up and put your cock inside me, Spencer.” 
“You're so fucking pushy for a submissive little slut,” he said, smiling finally. 
“I am not a-” you started to protest, but he slid inside of your hot cunt and you lost the ability to focus. 
“Not a what, Y/N? Speak up,” thrusting shallowly as your cunt grabbed him and held tight. 
“I'm not a- SPENCER!” You screamed his name as he pulled out quickly, thrusting into you again with a speed and strength that had you wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, fighting for him to stay right there deep inside. 
“Not a sub? Y/N, you're whimpering and drooling right now. You're three seconds away from begging for my cock, why the fuck can you not be honest with yourself?” 
“Fuck…you,” you said between moans as he rutted into you like a beast. He wasn't man anymore, bit monster, and he was claiming you inch by disgustingly perfect inch. 
“Let go. Let me take care of you, let me control you. Come on, baby, you know how good it would feel,” he said, before ducking his head and wrapping his tongue around a nipple. 
You screamed his name again, but you still tried to resist. 
“Come on, Y/N. Show me. Cum on my cock.” 
For a brief moment, you'd thought you'd resisted the demand. But then your brain faded, and your nails cut into his back like daggers as your body followed his commands and you came on his cock for a second time that night. 
“Perfect. One more, you can do one more,” he said, kissing your lips and lifting himself back up so he was sitting on his knees as he again picked up the pace. 
You mumbled his name over and over again as he fucked out all of the frustration in your body. Every thing either of you had said or done melted away in the glow of pleasure, your body buzzing from the feeling of him taking ownership of you. 
“One more, Y/N. One more, you need to cum one more time.”
“I can't, I can't I can't I can't, Spencer I can't I really can't,” you said, voice growing pathetically whiny as the tears sprang to your eyes and you choked back a sob. 
“Yes you can, one more. Together, we can do it together,” he said, groaning as you clenched around him.” 
He claimed your mouth again, his hand wrapping around your throat as he cut off your air supply for a second, then two, then three, as your ears buzzed and you finally slipped over the edge again. 
But this time, as promised, you weren't the only one caught in the pain of pleasure. Spencer collapsed on top of you as his dick spurted inside you, holding you close as he unloaded everything he had into you. 
He sat there, warming his cock as he lazily kissed open mouth kisses into every inch of your shoulders, collar bone and chest. Everywhere he could reach without pulling out of you and leaving you there. 
After weeks of no sleep because of him, it was his soft lips that finally enticed you into the hands of the sandman, his weight a comfort as you closed your eyes. 
When you woke in your bed, clean and clothed, he was gone, and so was every sign that he'd ever been there in the first place. 
🔖 @stillhere197 @understandingsunrise @mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @nox-sprite @alondralolll @allspicestones @chiyozai @i_heart_mgg @2hiigh2cry @tiyuel @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig @pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read @ari-aurelia
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reilemon · 4 months ago
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🍒My Everything🍒
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♡︎ synopsis: You didn't plan on celebrating your birthday during undercover mission, but Xavier still wanted to surprise you. A little twist on the 21 Days memory.
♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader
。°⚠︎°。MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)。°⚠︎°。
♡︎ cw: birthday sex, fingering, oral (both male and female receiving), creampie, multiple orgasms
♡︎ word count: 3.4k
♡︎ a/n: I call myself Zayne girlie yet here I am posting my fourth Xavier fic. Anyways, Sylus is next.
♡︎ requested by @sadfragilegirl ♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this! divider by @cafekitsune
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The undercover mission with Xavier has been going smoothly so far. You two put up a convincing act of a young couple in love in front of others, and actually got along well behind closed doors. You didn't want to tell him this, but you were genuinely surprised at how good of a homemaker he is. When you heard about the assignment, you were excited that it's him who's going to be living with you, but at the same time anxious. Xavier is a reliable work partner, but what would he be like as a roommate? So far, you had no complaints and actually were looking forward to coming home back to the apartment you and Xavier temporarily lived in for around three weeks.
As you mindlessly stroll around a grocery store, you reminisce about one more cause of anxiety about the mission - your crush on your coworker and neighbor. You're not sure when it started, but it doesn't matter because you made it your own mission to bury those feelings and hope they disintegrate. For a while you considered acting on it and taking the first step, but then you realized you had a lot to lose if it doesn't work out. And you tried to convince yourself that it was just a small crush, because who wouldn't want someone hot and reliable? Right?
A weary sigh leaves your lips and you turn a corner - Party Supplies. Oh. Right, it's your birthday today. You didn't say anything to Xavier because you didn't want to make him feel obligated to buy you a gift or make something today. You two are on a mission after all, and you can get to celebrate it later when it's over.
You pass the party supplies aisle and head towards the check out. You wonder what kind of concoction Xavier cooked today.
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
Even though you settled on not celebrating your birthday today, you still wanted to treat Xavier, so you bought a cherry pie from a pastry shop that always smells so good and makes your mouth water every time on the way back from 'work'.
As you fiddle with your keys at the doorstep, you catch a whiff of something burning. Probably from the inside. Another sigh leaves your lips. Xavier burnt something again, didn't he?
Light gray smoke greets you as soon as you open the door, your eyes taking a moment to adjust and then you see Xavier frantically fanning a kitchen towel over the counter.
You can clearly see the panic in Xavier's eyes over the slowly dissipating smoke when he notices you coming in. "Ah - ! Welcome home!"
You can't help but laugh a little at the scene, but also be confused a little at his behavior. He's usually calm even when he causes a kitchen fire. "So what are we having for dinner?" You tease.
Xavier's shoulders slump in defeat and puts away the kitchen towel. He turns to you and finally looks at you properly, with a defeated smile "A neighbor made you one of your favorite dishes." He nudges his head towards the dining table. Your gaze follows his and you gasp at how beautifully the table was set, with the meal and your favorite flowers waiting for you.
"Xavier, what - "
"Oh, what's this?"
He approached you to take the bag with the groceries while your attention was on the table.
"Oh, I got us a cherry pie."
He only nods and goes back to the kitchen to unload everything.
You sneak towards the cremated object, "So, if we already had dinner, what was this supposed to be?"
"Uh, nothing. I was just experimenting." Xavier absentmindedly answers as he finishes putting everything away.
After he refuses your offer to help with airing out the apartment, you then excuse yourself to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes.
When you exit the bathroom, the smell of what you assume to be burnt dessert is almost completely gone, and now you can see everything properly. You walk back into the dining area and your eyes land on Xavier waiting for you by the table. You gasp in delight when you see what's in his hands - a cute handmade paper crown in your favorite colors.
"Happy birthday." Xavier says softly and steps towards you, placing the crown on your head. It sits so perfectly that you think he might've taken your measurements.
You look up at him, still in disbelief "How did you - "
"Know when it's your birthday? I told you I looked at your profile." He chuckles at the silly question and turns to pull back your chair, offering you to take a seat.
While eating, you found out that what he burnt was supposed to be a birthday cake he thought you would like, but while it was baking he used that time to set the table and make the crown. He didn't want to make it earlier in case you found it. And then the neighbor came to drop off the meal and of course had to linger and chat and also invite herself over tomorrow.
"So, the groceries I bought today - "
"I didn't need any of that, I just wanted to buy myself more time."
You got used to Xavier's weird grocery shopping lists, that you didn't even question why you were buying ketchup, pesto sauce or sausages. You were so touched by the amount of effort and thoughtfulness he put into your birthday dinner; you were smiling the whole time. That crush is not going away anytime soon.
But you can tell that Xavier was almost like a deflated balloon, hesitantly answering your questions as you put two and two together.
You reach across the table, placing your hand over his. "I love everything you've done today." You reassure him in a comforting voice, "And it kinda worked out that the cake got burned, because then the pie would go to waste."
He nods, and you hope you made him feel a little better. Then, he takes your hand and places a soft peck on top of it, and you could feel your cheeks burning instantly. You hope he doesn't notice it.
He does.
After dinner, Xavier shoos you away from the kitchen, not letting you do any of the house chores on your day. So you go to the living room to unwind and wait for him to join you.
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
"Sorry, I had to take a shower." Xavier finally appears and takes a seat next to you on the sofa. He's wearing sweats (those gray sweatpants!!) and a loose tshirt, his hair still a little damp from washing away the smoke.
"It's okay, I entertained myself." You throw the other half of your blanket over his lap.
"Did you pick out a movie?"
You nod and start playing the movie on the tv. Since you can't go out together as much thanks to the mission, you found ways to pass the time inside your 'new home'. One of them is watching old movies Xavier used to watch years ago.
And about five minutes into the movie, you feel fluffy gray hair tickling you cheek and nose as his head softly drops on your shoulder. You turn your head and of course, Xavier is already dozing off. You smile softly at him - it's only fair to let him rest, so you try to slowly get up and let him lie down on the soft pillows.
With eyes still closed, he lets you snuggle him into the pillows and the blanket, but then his lips form a playful smirk and in one swift motion, he pulls you under the blanket with him, into his arms.
"You can watch the movie like this, right?" He asks as sleepiness overtakes him again, with the crown, barely on your head, poking his cheek.
Your body is stiff against his, and your voice doesn't help hiding how flustered you are "Um, you don't want to go to your room to take a nap?"
"Nope." He mumbles before dozing off.
You adjust to make yourself more comfortable, resting your head on his chest. The movie is rolling, but it doesn't have your attention. All you can focus on is how relaxing Xavier's presence is, with his weird slow heartbeat and soft breathing. His one hand is holding you close by the waist, while the other one found its way on top of yours that's resting on his chest.
All the nervousness about being so close to him slowly melts away, and you drift off to sleep.
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
When your eyes flutter open, Xavier's hand is in full focus as he tenderly caresses your cheek. The moonlight is the only source of light in the room now, and you wonder how long you slept. You prop yourself up a bit to look up at Xavier, but the crown you forgot you still had on slides off over your face, earning an amused laugh from him.
He takes it off for you and sets it on a nearby coffee table. Then he goes back to caressing your cheek.
"Did you sleep well?" He asks.
"Ye - Ow!" Numbness in your arm that was under you makes you grit your teeth and shift on the sofa in search for relief.
"Here." His arms effortlessly move you on top of him, your upper body completely resting on top of his, his legs encasing yours. "Better?" He asks as he grazes soothing circles on the numb arm.
Well you're not sure if it is better because your heart is beating like crazy now that you're on top of him, your faces a breath away. You did cuddle a little before, but you were never this close. So close you're sure he can feel your heartbeat. So you just nod, not trusting your voice.
You two share a moment in silence, gazing at each other’s features, Xavier's fingers still not leaving your face.
"It's a pity your birthday was during an undercover mission. I'll make it up to you when we get back."
You shake your head "This is one of my favorite birthdays actually." He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to elaborate and hoping you're not just humoring him. "I mean, I had a lovely home and a handsome husband waiting for me. He got me beautiful flowers and made sure I had my favorite meal."
A tone of uncertainty covers your voice "Who should I thank for that?"
When met with a puzzled look you elaborate "Should I thank you as my fake husband playing his role, or as my coworker -"
The fingers on your cheek cover your lips, cutting you off. "Just thank me, Xavier." The digits gingerly graze your bottom lip.
You speak softly “Thank you, Xavier.” Butterflies dance in your belly as you mull over the next question. "And -" You swallow thickly before continuing "What am I to you, Xavier?"
He doesn't say anything, instead he timidly pulls you closer by the back of your head, closing what little distance you had between your faces, his soft lips giving yours a chaste kiss. And when you don't pull away, your hand cupping his cheek, he pulls into a deep, hungry kiss, your bodies pressed hard, feeling every twitch of the muscle and pulse of your veins under your skin - and it's impossible to ignore growing bulge pressing your lower belly.
Xavier curses under his breath "Sorry, I - !" his words get lost in his throat when your hand grazes over his length over the clothes, your lips latching back onto his.
He groans and bites your bottom lip when you give it a few more strokes, feeling out his shape.
Fuck, it's thick.
Growing impatient, you tug at the waistband of the sinful gray sweats, and Xavier lifts his hips and pulls them down just enough to free his rock hard dick. You break away from the kiss to not so subtly look down and even under the low lights you can clearly see it. The sight of it makes you unconsciously rub your thighs and your mouth water.
You might've stared a little too long because a chuckle from the man under you pulls you out from your trance. But he doesn't tease you, maybe because it's your birthday, instead he pulls you back into another breathtaking kiss, while your hand wraps around his length, slowly stroking it.
But you need more - and in the next moment you're sliding down, adjusting yourself between his legs.
A few strokes to the base of his cock and your tongue on the leaking tip elicits a moan from Xavier's lips, and you discover that it's your new favorite sound. So you do what you need to do to hear more of it. Your swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting precum and the tender skin, before you take in more of his length, and greedily you take more and more before your nose is pressed on his pelvis, short hairs of his happy trail tickling you. You don't care how your jaw is barely holding on around his girth, his moans is what keeps you going and panties already drenched. All restrain from Xavier dissipates with every lick of your tongue and clenching of your throat around the tip.
"Fuck, you're doing so good."
His hips start moving faster than your rhythm, his hand on your head holding you in place. Under the hand that's holding you for balance, you can feel his thigh muscles tremble, and you can feel his cock throb in your mouth.
"I'm gonna cum, princess." He gives you the warning, and loosens his grip on your head, but you take it all in, needing to taste him. And in few shallow thrusts, you're tasting and swallowing his cum, not letting a drop go to waste.
You barely catch your breath before Xavier lifts you up and locks his lips with yours, tongue licking your lips and tongue, tasting himself. Then he switches the positions with you, and now you're on your back, stripped of your pants and underwear, Xavier's lips locked with yours and his middle finger sliding between your wet folds. You moan into the kiss as the finger slides into your entrance, quickly followed by a second one. Your hips start moving to meet the pace, the digits hitting all the right spots and your release already building up. Then his thumb presses your clit that was begging for attention, eliciting a yelp from you making Xavier smile against your lips before continuing kissing you. In a few more pumps of his fingers against your sweet spot, you're a panting mess as you cum around them.
When you come down from your high, he brings up those soaked fingers to his lips and licks them, the sight making you blush. His dick twitches in his underwear as he gets a taste of your essence. He needs more.
Before you can even protest about how you're wet enough, he pushes your legs further up against your torso, his face already between them, his breath fanning against your pussy spreading goosebumps all over your skin. The only thing that stopped him from latching onto your pretty pussy is his need to take in the sight of it for the first time.
You cover your face with your hands, too self-conscious about the close up he's getting, even if there's no lights in here. "Xavier..." You whine and move your hips as much as you can under his grasp.
He chuckles at your cute reaction and whispers how perfect you are, then he finally presses his tongue flat against your glistening folds, and your embarrassment melts away. One hand moves from the back of your thigh under your shirt, fondling your breast and playing with your hard nipple until you're squirming from over-sensitivity and he moves to the other one. His lips latch onto your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue around it, sucking and lapping at it, while his other hand finds its way back into your entrance, two fingers easily slipping in and finding the spots that make you moan and buck your hips.
"Just like that - " You breathe, raking your fingers through his hair and holding onto it, while your other hand grabs onto the arm rest behind you, anchoring yourself as Xavier's tongue and fingers stimulate you at just the right pace and you cry out when another orgasm courses through your body.
Xavier soothingly massages your breast and peppers your inner thighs with kisses as you catch your breath.
You hear him ask against your plush thigh "One more?"
Your eyes open and meet his half lidded gaze. You shake your head and grab his wrist "Just fuck me, please."
He was already on edge of another orgasm from just eating you out, and your breathy plea made him so dangerously closer. He positions himself on top of you and pulling down his underwear that now has a big wet spot from his leaking tip. You watch as he positions his cock against your pussy until you hear his soft voice
"Look me in the eyes, honey."
And you lock your gaze with his, eyes barely staying open as the swollen tip slides inside. With languid thrusts, his cock is buried to the hilt and now Xavier needs to anchor himself - he rests on his elbow, burying his face in the crook of your neck, licking and nipping sensitive skin. His other hand finds yours and holds it tight, interlocking fingers and resting it next to your head.
His thrust are deep and hard, his pelvis grazing your clit, making your cunt throb and squeeze around him, making his movements falter. With a strained voice he breathes against your neck "Gonna cum on my cock?"
You nod as you clench around him more when you hear his voice and see his face as he comes up to lock eyes with you and you grab him by the back of his neck, pulling him into a sloppy open mouthed kiss.
You squeeze his hand and lock your legs around his hips as they roll at the right angle.
"I'm so close, honey." He rasps.
And you are seconds away from your third orgasm, your pussy already spasming. "Need you - haah - inside -!"
You open your mouth in a silent cry his dick throbs in your already pulsing creaming cunt, filling it with hot cum. The two of you moan and grunt, erratically moving your hips, riding out each other's high.
With shaky breaths, you slowly calm down and open your eyes.
The two of you can't help but laugh a little when you see each other's blissed out faces. Xavier gives the hand he's still holding a kiss. Your other hand presses on his back to press you completely against him, needing to feel his whole weight on you.
"I'm not crushing you?" he asks as his face is nuzzled against your neck.
You gently stroke his now messy hair. "No let's stay like this for a while."
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
After cleaning up the mess on the sofa and showering, you're back in the dining room with the cherry pie on the table. Xavier put the candles on it and the princess crown back on your head. You're about to sit on Xavier's lap and then light the candles but then you remember something.
"Shoot, I almost forgot!"
Confused, Xavier watches you as you hurry out in the dining room. Your phone and the lighter are here, so he can't guess what you would need.
You come back with a giddy smile on your face as you hold something behind your back.
"Something for me?" he asks, amused at your expression.
"Yes, but it doesn't look that good because I had to make it quickly." You then reveal a handmade prince crown.
Xavier's eyes widen "When did you -?"
"I guess you forgot to clean up the living room after making mine, so I just scrambled something while you were showering."
Left speechless at your sweet gesture, his eyes switch between gazing at you and the crown.
You feel a little embarrassed at your craftsmanship because it looks poorly made compared to the one he made for you. "Okay, you looked at it enough. I'll make you a better one later."
He chuckles as you place it on his head and sit on his lap. He kisses your hand and then your lips "Thank you, I love it."
After lighting the candles, you close your eyes and make a wish.
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its-avalon-08 · 5 months ago
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Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me any driver but this vibe!
the alchemy (mv1)
✦ pairing - max verstappen x female!reader
✦ genre - just plain ol'fluff
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The roar of the crowd at Yas Marina Circuit was deafening. Max Verstappen, helmet still on, emerged from his Red Bull, a champion for the first time. Relief, exhaustion, and pure, unadulterated joy warred on his face. He bypassed the waiting media scrum, his eyes scanning the jubilant throngs of orange. There, amidst the sea of ecstatic fans, stood Y/N, his rock, his sunshine.
where's the trophy?
"Max! Max! Max!" David Croft's voice boomed over the international broadcast. "He's forgoing the initial interview! Looks like the celebrations are starting a little early!"
he just comes running over to me
Max sprinted towards her, a wide grin splitting his face. He reached her, engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug, and spun her around like a jubilant ballerina. Y/N, tears welling in her eyes, clung to him, her laughter echoing in the cacophony.
He finally stopped, cupping her face, his blue eyes shimmering with emotion. "We did it, Y/N! We fucking did it!"
"We did, Max," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You were incredible out there!"
Max pulled her in again, burying his face in her hair. The roar of the crowd seemed to fade into the background as he whispered, "I couldn't have done it without you. You believed in me when I doubted myself, pushed me when I wanted to quit, and loved me even when I was a grumpy mess after a bad race."
Y/N tilted her head up, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Hey, that's part of the package, Champion," she teased. "But seriously, Max, I'm so incredibly proud of you. You've worked so hard for this moment."
Max gazed at her, his eyes filled with adoration. "You mean everything to me, Y/N. You're my best friend, my confidante, my biggest supporter. This championship, it's ours."
Croft's voice cut back in, tinged with amusement. "And there you have it, folks! Max Verstappen with a very emotional message for his girlfriend, Y/N. It seems the celebrations are truly personal tonight!"
Max chuckled, brushing a stray tear from Y/N's cheek. "Come on," he said, taking her hand. "Let's celebrate with the team. They deserve this as much as we do."
He led her through the throngs of ecstatic Red Bull personnel, who whooped and cheered, showering them with confetti and champagne. Y/N, her arm linked with Max's, felt a surge of pure happiness. This championship wasn't just his; it was a testament to the unwavering support of a team, a family, and the love of a remarkable woman. As they joined the celebrations, Y/N knew this was just the beginning of their incredible journey together.
max's pov
The champagne shower was a glorious, stinging euphoria. Confetti rained down, a kaleidoscope of orange and white mirroring the elation that bubbled in my chest. The podium lights felt unnaturally bright, but the cheers of the crowd were a warm, intoxicating wave. I was a champion. Formula One World Champion.
But amidst the cacophony, my vision cut through the noise, drawn to the familiar splash of sunshine yellow in the crowd. Y/N. There she was, a beacon amidst the sea of orange. Her hair, usually pulled back in a practical braid, cascaded down her shoulders in the humid Abu Dhabi night, windblown and free. Her face, usually reserved and composed when I was in the car, was a mask of pure, unadulterated joy. Tears welled in her eyes, sparkling like tiny diamonds under the floodlights.
Time seemed to slow. The roar of the crowd faded, replaced by the frantic pounding of my heart. A wide grin stretched across my face, mirroring the one I knew was mirrored on hers. We locked eyes for a fleeting moment, an unspoken conversation passing between us. Her lips moved, forming the words that had echoed in my head all season, the fuel that had propelled me through every grueling race, every nerve-wracking qualifying session.
"I love you."
The sound didn't reach me, drowned out by the cheers, but I knew. I knew with a certainty that transcended words. It was in the glistening tears, the trembling smile, the way her entire being radiated pure, unadulterated pride. This wasn't just my victory. It was ours.
As Christian Horner sprayed me with champagne, the sting a welcome reminder of the moment, my gaze never left her. She was my rock, my anchor, the sunshine that chased away the storm clouds of doubt. This championship trophy, held aloft in my numb fingers, was as much hers as it was mine. It was a symbol of our journey, a testament to the unwavering support that had carried me across the finish line.
The podium celebrations blurred into a whirlwind of handshakes, interviews, and backslaps. But through it all, her image remained etched in my mind, a beacon of love and pride. And when I finally found myself back at the team motorhome, the echoes of the celebration fading, I knew exactly where I needed to be. With her.
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ln4smiamitrophy · 5 months ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 ————— part 1
𐙚 summary; the one where lando norris reunites with his childhood love at the Monaco Grand Prix and is convinced he’s over her. after all, it’s been 7 years. he can’t still love her, right?
ʚɞ pairing; lando norris x influencer!reader
ᡣ𐭩 fc; jadeybird on ig
⭒ type; irl x smau (there will be more smau in later parts)
⟡ a/n; i’ve come to realise that there aren’t many stories on here where the reader is mid/plus-sized. as a mid/plus-size girl myself, i personally can find it upsetting when there is mainly only representation of the body types that society deems to be conventionally attractive and not a lot of representation of others, they are common body types and they are attractive. i have struggled with body image in the past and i still do on occasion, if anyone who reads this ever needs anyone to talk to about this or literally anything else, feel free to message me and i’ll always get back to you. love you all, you beautiful people xx
comment to be added to my tag list <3
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Lando Norris loved the Monaco Grand Prix. Who didn’t? The history behind the race, the atmosphere, it was overall an amazing experience every year. And best of all, he was able to stay at home. When travelling so often meant never staying in one place too long, he was grateful for one time a year he could sleep in his own bed the night before a race.
It was race day and, as per, the track was as chaotic as usual. From the mechanics frantically checking to make sure the cars were ready for the race to the fans filling the track to the brim, it was hard to get a moment alone. In fact, Lando had barely had one since he stepped foot on the track. He’d been pulled into meetings and interviews left, right and centre.
Amongst all the chaos he finally has some time to himself as he heads to the track for the national anthem. He’s walking in silence, head down as he makes his way over. He keeps going over the strategy for the race in his head, he’s starting in p4. Overtakes are hard on this circuit, everyone knows that. All Lando wants this race is to preserve his tyres and hold his position.
It’s like the universe made it happen. Just as he lifted his head up, he’s met with someone he never thought he’d see again. Y/n. His first true love. They were together for three years, but when it became abundantly clear that Lando would be joining Mclaren for the 2019 formula one season, they couldn’t deal with the consequences that brought for their relationship, and ultimately it ended.
She doesn’t see him, and he’s almost relieved she didn’t. It’s been seven years since the end of their relationship, and yet upon seeing her he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she is. She’s changed, naturally, they were just teenagers when they separated. But she’s still as breathtaking as he remembers. He couldn’t be thinking about this. Not now. He pushes these feelings down, repressing them as much as he can as he finds his spot on the carpet and the national anthem begins. He needs to focus on the race.
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78 laps later and he was p4. Lando knew he probably wasn’t going to gain any positions during the race due to the circuit but he still can’t help but feel slightly disappointed in himself. Ever since his first win in Miami, since he was finally able to prove that he can win races, he’s craved it again. That feeling when he passed the checkered flag in first place, he wanted it again. It’s natural in his line of work to want to be the best, he’s surrounded by 19 other drivers who all want to be on that top step every weekend. But his teammate was p2, he was proud of him. Overall a good weekend for the team.
After the race was just as chaotic as the start, between interviews and press conferences and briefings, the only quiet time Lando gets is in between them. So that’s what he’s doing. Walking in silence towards the interview pen as his pr manager talks in his ear. He’s not paying attention to where he goes and so of course he has to walk into someone.
“Sor-“ He says looking up at them, expecting to send a small smile their way before continuing but that’s not what happens. “Y/n..”
“Lando…” Her voice is still as soft as it was all those years ago. He just gazes at her and neither makes a move to look away. That is until she clears her throat, looking down.
“How’ve you been?” Lando asks, a feeble attempt to get her to stay just a little longer. He doesn’t want her to walk away just yet. Just a moment longer.
“I’ve been well,” Glancing back up at him and he can tell she’s hesitant, he doesn’t blame her. Breathing out, she sighs before she speaks once more, “I watched Miami, congratulations on your first win.”
She still watched, she’d watched him win. He doesn’t quite know why he thought she wouldn’t; she’d always had a love for motorsports. It’s one thing they bonded over as teens.
“Thank you,” He can’t help the soft smile that graces his face. Lando mentally curses himself for glancing over her shoulder, being met with the slightly annoyed face of his pr manager. He should be in the pen by now.
He looks back at her, nodding. “I should probably go… it was good to see you.” She just nods at him, smiling softly, watching as he walks away.
Arriving at the pen, Lando takes a deep breath, forcing himself back into the driver headspace.
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Five hours later and he’s stood in a club, music blasting, bodies dancing all around him and he’s stood nursing the same drink for the past 20 minutes, taking with George. Normally Lando loves a party, out of the whole driver grid he’s the one you’re most likely to spot coming in and out of clubs on a Sunday night. But tonight he’s just not in the mood and he just can’t figure out why. Though he has reason to believe it’s got something to do with the girl he can spy dancing over George’s shoulder.
He can’t help but let his eyes dart towards her every couple minutes. He watches as she dances surrounded by people, laughing and smiling without a care in the world: he used to be able to make her do that. The countless nights they’d spend wrapped up in each other, talking about whatever came to mind, the soft giggles she’d let out anytime Lando said something even remotely funny as his hands would occupy themselves in her hair. They all came back to him as he watched her.
Clearing his throat and downing the rest of his drink, he turns to George, dismissing himself before heading to the bar and deciding he was going to drink away the thoughts of the girl that was seemingly occupying his mind like a plague. He certainly does just that and three hours later, Lando is black out drunk basically lying down in the back of a taxi as Carlos sits there with him, making sure he gets home safely.
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A groan immediately falls from Lando’s mouth as he wakes up with a hangover straight from hell. He buries himself under his duvet until he finally decides he needs something for the pain. Peeling the duvet off of his body, he stands up, jumping slightly at his phone ringing. It’s Carlos.
“Please remind me to never drink again,” Lando states the moment he answers the phone and he’s met with Carlos laughing into his ear.
“It’s that bad?” The spaniard asks and Lando can hear his smirk down the phone. Letting out a grumbled “yes” Lando drags himself into the bathroom where he keeps his painkillers.
“What even happened?” Carlos questions him, “Didn’t you say you weren’t gonna drink much?”
“I don’t know,” Lando sighs, swallowing the painkillers, finishing the glass of water. He’s lying. He knows why but he’s not going to tell Carlos that.
His mind drifts back to the short conversation he had with her the day before. The way she danced in the club. The way she laughed. Her smile. Shaking his head, he pushes it down. He ends the phone call with Carlos, making the excuse he’s going back to bed, hoping to sleep off the hangover.
But he can’t get back to sleep, he’s never been able to fall back asleep after waking up, envying people who find it so easy. After 10 minutes of trying, he finds himself hauling himself into his living room, sprawling out on the sofa and watching whatever Netflix recommends him.
He has no clue what he’s watching but then again, he’s not really paying attention. His mind kept travelling back to her. No matter what he tried. He told himself it was just shock. The shock of seeing her again. And before he knew it, he was opening instagram, typing in her name and clicking her most recent post.
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y/nusername
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liked by yourbff, landonorris and others
tagged yourbff, scuderiaferrari
y/nusername monaco, you are so sexy
thank you @scuderiaferrari for the invite <3
comments…
yourbff girls trips with you are the best <3
⤷ y/nusername i love you <3
user1 y/n being an f1 girlie is literally the best thing to ever happen to me
user2 y/n just proving “hot girls love f1” to be true
scuderiaferrari loved having you around
*liked by y/nusername*
⤷ y/nusername loved being around
alexandrasaintmleux loved meeting you, we need to hang out again!!
⤷ y/nusername you’re an angel, we need to!!
user3 i wanna party with y/n so bad
⤷ user4 me too!! she’s deffo the most fun ever
yourfriend1 missing you :/
⤷ y/nusername missing you more honeybun
user5 lando in the likes??
⤷ user6 he’s in the likes but they don’t follow each other
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part 2 soon !!
taglist; @soamericn @urfavwelshie @realcherryjam @danielshoe @coastalrainae
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random0lover · 2 years ago
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Omg 😳
I am LIVING for that vampire!price snippet oh my god I DO like it!!!! I am all for this monster au and Ghost with ghost hands??? Uhhhh yes please!! The possibilities!!!!
-that könig anon
oh I'm so glad!!! here's another little snippet, this time with Ghost...
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The first time Ghost does his... thing... it causes Houdini to shriek.
She was in the middle of a shower in the single safe house bathroom, trying to get the mud out of her hair from falling in the rain when Ghost simply appeared walking through the door.
"Time to leave," he'd muttered, black smoke rolling off of him in waves. He got like that when he was agitated; something must have happened.
"Fucking hell, Ghost, you - you can't just --" Houdini stammered, hand on her bare chest as she tried to catch her breath. The other hand braced the wall of the shower, having nearly slipped due to the surprise.
Smoky hands pulled back the shower curtain and the water was turned off. It was cold and she still needed to rinse the conditioner out of her hair -- protests rose in her throat before she realized what was happening.
With the worn shower curtain pulled back, she could see Ghost leaning against the door.
Wait. If Ghost was leaning against the door -
Another shriek.
Downstairs, Soap howled. (He was laughing, presumably, at the realization Houdini was having.)
"Not sure why this surprises you," Ghost muttered, shaking his head. With his actual free hand (the other shoved into his pocket) he pointed at himself. "Ghost."
Under all the smoke and the mask, Houdini swore he was smirking. Her hand fell from her chest to promptly give Ghost the middle finger, tongue sticking out.
Smoky hands moved from the shower to the towel perched on the sink. Houdini then stood still, entranced as they wrapped the towel around her - even tucked it the way she liked, tight across her chest - and disappeared into the air. They felt real, tangible, and yet --
"Captain said we've got to leave, so let's go," Ghost said, phasing through the door to leave. "Now."
"Fucking hell," she cursed, squeezing the water from her hair.
The thought of what Ghost's hands could do plagued her for the next several days.
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