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#excuse me I have some objections
goyangistudios32 · 2 months
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I did it again
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pillowspace · 11 months
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Fascinated by how many people are picking the Daycare Attendant on that poll, I would have been soo scared of Sun
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jekyllnahyena · 2 years
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if i had a heart i would love you.
(for anybody asking, those are demoiselle crane wings. we’re ignoring the actual accuracy of that)
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zend-pixie · 10 months
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even made a “daily emmet brickowski” account on twitter (might add doodles there some day but for now its just screenshots) and i find it very funny that the only supporters are me myself and i (and @cheeki-tails)
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hybridshadowz · 1 year
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vent art but also not exactly? if you've done the 3.2 archon quest, then you know
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I mostly stay away from the whole 'desi' bubble nowadays but I still get a post in the vein of 'just desi things' from time to time, and I can check out op's blog and be 100% sure to get either savarna bullshit, classism, or islamophobia
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third times the charm re: distilling a [winston billions autistic character] jumping off point re: like, applications of individual responsibility Bootstraps Narrative attitude just in general when it comes to some people being Made more vulnerable than others, and the way that these differences are Deserved, the solution to someone suffering for it is for them to personally choose to better themself to thusly earn more, and for, conveniently, Punishment to be a neutral conduit of moral improvement, should you be so deserving as to accept it
if someone interprets an autistic person as offputting & reacts to this with disdain b/c of an imagined correlating Undeserving Interiority within that person, that’s objective & correct, & however they punish that person is as well. autistic people should have to Do The Work of making up for their previous failure to simply Learn how to act correctly, since allistic people definitely underwent ABA & now think of themselves as choosing to act that way rather than just Naturally Being Normal (wherein also any conscious effort is just ascribed to further personal positive qualities of theirs, the Kindness / Generosity / Thoughtfulness etc etc in striking up small talk or whatever, while ascribing thoughtlessness / disrespect to nd behavior), and in the meantime a) the best an autistic person can hope for, if, like a properly humble poor person, they deserve the pity, is that equivalent of a windfall of the charity some better off individual can Choose to afford them, e.g. like if an autistic employee happens to have some manager or someone who can & does look out for them / tries to insulate them from nonsense....and at the heart of the matter, the double empathy problem Is deserved, the solution to an autistic person being disliked is either that they shouldn’t be here at all, or that if they can endure existing somewhere that’s actually beyond what they can manage to Earn, they deserve the punishment of being nobly treated “the same,” i.e., oh if Anyone was acting like this i’d be an asshole to them, which is why people don’t even need to Know someone’s autistic to react to the reality of their being autistic, the person in question doesn’t even need to know it about themself....and ultimately it’s worse to Not try to yourself punish, or allow the punishment of, this weirdo grating cringe loser, b/c only the cleansing nature of that punishment will let them personally improve & start acting better & Deserving better, otherwise you’re just enabling them to keep being annoying at other people & those other ppl’s annoyance is Also blood on your hands (then it’s time to turn around & let people even Higher Up on the social hierarchy do whatever they want / bend over backwards to interpret & explain & justify everything they do in the most positive lights & blame other people for being hurt by them) 
and like, the handy flexibility re: what’s Deserved when, say, how other characters look at a character like ben kim. he’s Too Nice, and that can mean that he deserves better, or it can mean that that’s a bleeding heart doormat loser trait that deserves the disdainful punishment it might get. and even if you Do think he deserves better? the reason he isn’t Already getting that better treatment must be due to personal failure anyways: he Is being too much of a loser &/or how he’ll only get better if he Steps Up & Acts more like a winner, for god’s sake, do the elevator dance stuff, that’s not only reasonable but obvious, cmon. tuk’s weird Confidence Training masterclass where it’s like, softhearted ben will be like “sorry :/ nothing anyone can do though” but tuk can’t go “hey, can you not be an asshole to me” and expect to get anywhere if he’s still being his too uncertain self, it’s on Him to start acting out the extrinsic behaviors of a winner and Then other people will totally start respecting him, is how this works lol....that it’s cringe for winston to Say he’s good at what he does & is valuable, b/c umm if you were Really valuable then the Natural recognition of that & corresponding positive treatment would Of Course have already manifested, and since it hasn’t, he isn’t Really deserving, and since he’s claiming to be deserving, that’s also proof he’s out of line being aggressive & arrogant like that. that it’s Also like, cringe & even crass of him to mention like, yeah i’m hoping to get paid here lol, again you’ll Of Course be paid as much as you want if you Deserve it, but if you deserve it you’ll actually mostly talk about being here and wanting to Win at it for cooler reasons, b/c ppl who are winning / more powerful than you in Whatever realm have those benefits that have just spontaneously & naturally been afforded to them b/c they deserve them more On Merit, and meritous people Are better than those beneath them and thus Will seem epic. and in the same way that ben kim seeming Too Nice can be handily interpreted as a “positive” (without truly challenging any negative assessment) or a negative, it’s like, oh winston’s Also undeserving b/c of the fact his outfit was uniquely significantly cheaper on the burn rate rundown, it’s actually Cooler to have your undershirt cost a thousand bucks, it’s costlier b/c it’s better, you buy the better clothes b/c you Deservingly have the money and thus also have the Deserving tastes to want the pricier shit. yet it’s like, cue a post of yore mentioning like analysis of agatha christie’s writing where like, oh the nouveau riche’s personal fashion & decor choices are always a bit too indulgent & overdone, vs. the refined elegant restraint of those with True Class(tm), when really any trend where Not going as ham with adornment/decoration was “better” / a signifier of properly noble Old Money was a reaction to flashier stylings Becoming more common / attainable for the less established rich / Less rich, period....the way that an identity that is defined by / requires Othering people will always have to react Against what everyone else is doing so long as that association is relevant in the cultural consciousness. ugh women do that, so it’d be too Effeminate of men, so men shouldn’t Want to do it anyways b/c they’re too inherently epic in the ways that make them better than women already, & if they Do, it’s some artificial corruption....anyways, it’s that if someone Undeserving were to indulge in pricey shit, that’d be a veneer to compensate for the insecurity of how they don’t Truly Deserve fancy shit (which wouldn’t look like deliberate flashiness anyways, of course. simply The Taste) but if they were to rather be sticking to too pedestrian / inexpensive shit, that’s Also about the insecurity of how they don’t Truly Deserve fancy shit / indication that they lack the Taste to even Know how to want better, and the best they could do is an identifiably lesser mere Imitation of what better ppl choose for themselves
meanwhile shoutout to how, of course, if winston is being treated badly on an individual interpersonal basis, that’s exactly in line with All Of This lol. he deserves it, if he deserves better He has to make the change, and in the meantime since that Bootstraps Narrative is justification for things being the way they already are, conveniently anyone else can keep getting whatever they get out of another person being so diminished as to not Deserve to be regarded as & treated as a person in the way that they do....autistic employees “making up for” their being autistic by working harder, Anyone working harder (ben kim) b/c surely that’s the only way to get a raise or promoted or not fired & if you don’t jump into the ring of like compensation negotiation & win (ben kim) then you don’t deserve the raise, conveniently....you Do have to walk away & Prove that you can do better, taylor Should Have Had To Do All This actually, even though probably mafee wouldn’t Really argue that directly, wild how whatever you say that’s a Negative about winston / sabotages any effort of his must, flexibly, be true & fine....if we thought Some People didn’t inherently deserve the increased vulnerability to harm in various manifestations, then that’d have enough reverberations that wouldn’t be contained to “maybe stop being like this to your coworker,” and in the meantime we can all just Tell that winston sucks & thus he brings it upon himself & the Rewards that people get for what they’re actually bringing upon him >>>> winston having a more tolerable time, not to mention that actually it’ll Help him in the end if, to make the punishment stop, he finally decides to deserve Better by improving himself, bootstraps time, [become nondisabled] style
oh and addendum too about like [any begrudging acknowledgment that winston perhaps Does have value tied to an especial individual talent] wherein it can be like ugh This asshole got in on a Technicality, he can crank out this coding or whatever but that’s Mechanical rather than something any of us need to attribute to an Inherently Deserving Human Interiority and like be impressed with or admire or respect or some shit like that, he’s basically cheated to get be here & so long as he isn’t forced out we can at least Use him. feel free though to be a complete asshole to him for real
#another blogger moment of just saying some shit. probably other specific examples i meant to bring up but didn't#i mean it's the Entire intrinsic / extrinsic thing lmao. operating under a premise that there Is an objective hierarchy of Intrinsic Worth#(or characters are; mostly; but if it wasn't a common irl assumption / ideology too then idk uh [encompassing gesture])#and wherein it's like. questions of ''do you actually think Anyone would deserve [xyz] treatment even if they supposedly were thee worst''#and ''do you think [xyz] should be done to people b/c the Suffering therein is supposedly good for them actually''#like regardless of anything winston does (which like...is mostly withering & coding in the corner...what) it's like#if it's so intolerable then fire him? is it actually chill for rian's dynamic w/him to be somewhere around [his bully] or [abusive friend]#like At All much less even if she's the most awesome winning sympathetic person in the world & he's some asshole who sucks at everything#and even perhaps if she's getting anything out of it. even perhaps if you also dislike winston / think he Could & Should be different....#imagine wendy brings the attempts at systematic aba for real l o l (wretched) (she also brings it organically anyways)#winston billions#and whatever all's going on here....who knows. a blogger saying some things. your guess is as good as mine#tfw ppl think ppl are just desperate to Read Into the least shit abt themselves & Self Dx As Autistic For Clout / how ohhh disabled ppl need#Special Treatment out of Sympathy/Pity / ohhh disabled ppl are actually all asking too much of us all & using Excuses....#certainly easier to Not actually fundamentally question &/or alter your understanding of the concept of disability#like no i will Not conceive of the fact that making eye contact during a convo is not a universal human behavior hinging on basic respect#to look away isn't neutral or to help someone actually listen to you better. e.g. being autistic Has to be An Excuse(tm)#adhd would be Solved by me if only they all cared as much as i do where Choosing To Remember = Remembering. excuses excuses#winston as a Totally Objectively offputting asshole doesn't deserve basic respect as a person; nor as a colleague / coworker / employee...#he definitely deserves the punishment to Specifically Not have casual acquaintanceships; friends; lovers; partners; family is saddled w/him
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xcziel · 7 months
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yeah, this is not it. and saying it's r&b is an insult to actual r&b songs. it's possible to make a fun popular catchy song that doesn't also give me the creeps - and it's still too fast.
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umabloomer · 6 months
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I got a job at a Ukrainian museum.
On the first day someone asks me if I have any Ukrainian heritage. I say I had ancestors from Odesa, but they were Jewish, so they weren’t considered Ukrainian, and they wouldn’t have considered themselves Ukrainian. My job is every day I go through boxes of Ukrainian textiles and I write a physical description, take measurements, take photographs, and upload everything into the database. I look up “Jewish” in the database and there is no result. 
Some objects have no context at all, some come with handwritten notes or related documents. I look at thick hand-spun, hand-woven linen heavy with embroidery. Embroidery they say can take a year or more. I think of someone dressed for a wedding in their best clothes they made with their own hands. Some shirts were donated with photographs of the original owners dressed in them, for a dance at the Ukrainian Labour Temple, in 1935. I handle the pieces carefully, looking at how they fit the men in the photos, and how they look almost a hundred years later packed in acid-free tissue. One of the men died a few years later, in the war. He was younger than I am now. The military archive has more photographs of him with his mother, his father, his fiancé. I take care in writing the catalogue entry, breathing in the history, getting tearful. 
I imagine people dressed in their best shirts at Easter, going around town in their best shirts burning the houses of Jews, in their best shirts, killing Jews. A shirt with dense embroidery all over the sleeves and chest has a note that says it is from Husiatyn. I look it up and find that it was largely a Jewish town, and Ukrainians lived in the outskirts. There is a fortress synagogue from the Renaissance period, now abandoned. 
When my partner Aaron visits I take him to an event at the museum where a man shows his collection of over fifty musical instruments from Ukraine, and he plays each one. Children are seated on the floor at the front. We’re standing in a corner, the room full of Ukrainians, very aware that we look like Jews, but not sure if anyone recognizes what that looks like anymore. Aaron gets emotional over a song played on the bandura. 
A note with a dress says it came from the Buchach region. I find a story of Jewish life in Buchach in the early twentieth century, preparing to flee as the Nazis take over. I cry over this.
I’m cataloguing a set of commemorative ribbons that were placed on the grave of a Ukrainian Nationalist leader, Yevhen Konovalets, after he was assassinated. The ribbons were collected and stored by another Nationalist, Andriy Melnyk, who took over leadership after Konovalets’ death. The ribbons are painted or embroidered with messages honouring the dead politician. I start to recognize the word for “leader”, the Cyrillic letters which make up the name of the colonel, the letters “OYH” which stand for Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN in English). The OUN played a big part in the Lviv pogroms in 1941, I learn. The Wikipedia article has a black and white image of a woman in her underwear, running in terror from a man and a young boy carrying a stick of wood. The woman’s face is dark, her nose may be bleeding. Her underwear is torn, her breast exposed. I’m measuring, photographing, recording the stains and loose threads in the banners that honour men who would have done this to me. 
Every day I can’t stop looking at my phone, looking up the news from Gaza, tapping through Instagram stories that show what the news won’t. Half my family won’t talk to the other half, after I share an article by a scholar of Holocaust and genocide studies, who says Israel is committing a genocide. My dad makes a comment that compares Gaza to the Warsaw Ghetto. This gets him in trouble. My aunt says I must have learned this antisemitism at university, but there is no excuse for my dad. 
This morning I see images from Israeli attacks in the West Bank, where they are not at war. There are naked bodies on the dusty ground. I’m not sure if they are alive. This is what I think of when I see the image from the Lviv pogrom. If what it means for Jews to be safe from oppression is to become the oppressor, I don’t want safety. I don’t want to speak about Jews as if we are one People, because I have so little in common with those in green uniforms and tanks. I am called a self-hating Jew but I think I am a self-reflecting Jew.
I don’t know how to articulate how it feels to be handling objects which remind me of Jewish traumas I inherited only from history classes and books. Textiles hold evidence of the bodies that made them and used them. I measure the waist of a skirt and notice that it is the same as my waist size. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Jewish homes during pogroms. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Palestinian homes during the ongoing Nakba. Clothes hold the shape of the body that once dressed in them. Sometimes there are tears, mends, stains. I am rummaging through personal belongings in my nitrile gloves. 
I am hands-on learning about the violence caused by Ukrainian Nationalism while more than nine thousand Palestinians have been killed by the State of Israel in three weeks, not to mention all those who have been killed in the last seventy-five years of occupation, in the name of the Jewish Nation, the Jewish People — me? If we (and I am hesitant to say “we”) learned anything from the centuries of being killed, it was how to kill. This should not have been the lesson learned. Zionism wants us to feel constantly like the victims, like we need to defend ourself, like violence is necessary, inevitable. I need community that believes in freedom for all, not just our own People. I need the half of my family who believes in this necessary “self-defence” to remember our history, and not just the one that ends happily ever after with the creation of the State of Israel. Genocide should not be this controversial. We should not be okay with this. 
Tomorrow I will go to work and keep cataloguing banners that honour the leader of an organization which led pogroms. I will keep checking the news, crying into my phone, coordinating with organizers about our next actions, grappling with how we can be a tiny part in ending this genocide that the world won’t acknowledge, out of guilt over the ones it ignored long ago. 
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worldlxvlys · 2 months
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can you plase make a story where chris is obsessed with the reader and is super clingy, and always want to be close to her.
and he cant stop thinking about her and talks about her to his friends all the time.
and he gets hard everytime he sees her, and everything about her turns him on, and he jerks off alot while thinking about her.
obsessed
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: smutttt, masturbation, fantasizing, cursing
a/n: this is inspired by the request (obv) but also by @solarsturniolo ‘s series We’re Just Friends for matt, i’m absolutely obsessed with it ! please go read if you haven’t already :)
3 TIMES CHRIS WAS DOWNBAD FOR READER AND 1 TIME HE DID SOMETHING ABOUT IT.
1. HE’S IN DENIAL.
“you gus are being dramatic, it’s not that bad” i said to matt and nick.
“chris, you can’t go a day without being around her. and when you aren’t with her she’s all you talk about” matt said.
“that’s not true” i brushed off his comment.
“chris, you’re doing it right now. this conversation started with you telling us how much you miss her” nick deadpanned.
i rolled my eyes at this, “whatever bro”
“no, not whatever. you’re obsessed with her”
“that’s crazy. i’m not obsessed with her, guys. i just love spending time with her” i stopped to think, “and helping her pick out her outfits, seeing how excited she gets over little things”
“her smile, her face, her laugh, her voice, her body”
“but you’re not obsessed, right?” nick said “exactly” i agreed.
“kid, please listen to yourself” matt spoke,
“you’re smiling like a fucking idiot right now” nick pointed out, making me drop my smile quickly.
“you sniff her hair like a creep and whenever she is here, you’re always touching her in some way” he continued.
“and you’re always talking about how good she looks or how you like her hair that day. i bet if i asked you the exact outfit she wore yesterday you could tell me” matt said.
i went to object, but realized i did have her exact outfit memorized.
“she was wearing my favorite pair of shorts” i spoke, trying to give an excuse.
“chris, you can’t be serious” nick spoke, looking at me incredulously.
“what ?” i asked, my voice raising slightly.
“look, there’s nothing wrong with it. but you need to be honest with yourself about it” nick said.
“look, guys. you’re just wrong! i-” suddenly, i was cut off by my phone buzzing in my pocket.
when i checked to see who it was, i was met with the face of the exact person we were talking about, a wide smile growing on my face.
without hesitating i answered, putting the phone to my ear.
“hold on, i’ll be back” i told them, holding a finger up.
“this kid is unreal” matt spoke, rolling his eyes.
🤭🤭🤭
2. HE’S OBSESSED.
matt and nick had left to go to the store a little while ago, stating that it’d be a while before they were back.
i immediately took the opportunity to let out my pent-up frustrations, caused by her.
her eyes, always looking up at me so innocently. like she was just begging me to take that away and completely destroy her.
her lips, always soft and hydrated. like they’re just waiting to be kissed. i wanna see them get puffy and bruised from my own.
her thighs, always so shiny and squeezable. i wanna watch them shake while she screams out my name. i need them around my head, pushing me further and further into her pussy, holding me captive. i wanna see them folded into her chest while i hammer her pussy, her body thrashing under me.
her hands, always freshly manicured. whenever she gets a new set and sends me them, i imagine what they’d look like wrapped around my cock.
which was how we got here in the first place. except, this time, she sent me a video.
“fuck, chris” she started making me cum immediately. “i love these so much” she spoke excitedly, wiggling her fingers to show off the intricate nails.
“thank you for paying for them, i seriously…” she continued to ramble but i lost focus as my hips stuttered and thick ropes of my cum coated my hand, some even flying onto the phone screen.
i hadn’t even realized i was close.
before i knew it, i found myself overstimulating my sensitive cock as i continued to pump, getting lost in the sound of her voice.
yeah, nothing about this is normal.
🍆🍆🍆
3. HE’S DELUSIONAL. (OR IS HE 🤨)
she looked way too good.
we were hanging out at her house, after just getting back from shopping.
she was giving me a try-on haul, and god it was criminal how good she looked in anything she put on her body.
her body. i tried not to stare at her body when i was around her, but i couldn’t help it. she was hypnotizing. it was getting harder and harder to hide the boners that i got every time i saw her.
i was already struggling, but the second she pulled out the bikinis? i had to pull my hoodie off and place it over my lap.
every time she walked back to her closet, her hips drew me in. i watched her ass as she walked, gripping onto the sheets under me.
the bikinis got cheekier and cheekier as she tried them on, but i lost it at one in particular.
when she bent over to rifle though her bag, the fabric moved over slightly, giving me the smallest glimpse of her pussy.
“i gotta use the bathroom!” i yelled as i rushed past her.
“oh-“ she barely even finished talking before i pushed the door closed.
i leaned against the door as i pulled down my pants.
i spread the pre-cum that covered my cock around, my head falling back against the door as i held back my groans.
my arm started to cramp up at the speed that i pumped my length at, needing to finish quickly.
suddenly, there was a knock at the door, making my eyes widen but not stopping my movements.
“chris, are you ok? you seemed kinda off” i heard her speak through the door.
the sound of her voice alone pulled me closer to finishing.
“uh, yeah. just felt kinda weird” i did my best not to let any moans slip out.
the wet sounds of my hand furiously stroking my cock echoed through the bathroom, and i prayed that she didn’t hear it.
“do you need help?” she asked.
“what ?” i asked, her words catching me off guard.
“like, is there anything i can get you ? do you need anything?” she asked.
“uh, no. just give me a minute” i breathed out heavily, struggling to suppress my groans at the sound of her voice.
“a minute? you close, baby?” she asked. at this point, i was too far into the pleasure to question her words.
“yes, so fucking close” i moaned as my mouth hung open, drool dribbling down my chin.
“you thinkin about bending me over the sink in my bikini?” i let out an embarrassingly loud groan at this.
“feeling me clench around your cock while you fill my pussy up? reminding me who i belong to?” my eyes crossed at her words and my legs shook so hard i had to hold onto the sink.
“i’m cumming! holy fuck, i’m cumming!” i groaned.
my seed spurted out of me, making me groan at the feeling of it dripping down my length.
“oh my god” i breathed out shakily, grabbing toilet paper and cleaning myself up.
i flushed it down the toilet, pulling up my pants and washing my hands after.
i splashed water onto my face, letting the reality of my actions hit me.
did i just fuck everything up?
taking a deep breath, i opened the door.
she had a slightly concerned look on her face as she spoke, “hey, you ok? what happened?”
my eyebrows furrowed at her question. what did she mean, what happened ?
“i mean- yeah i’m good”
“ok, you kinda scared me. you seemed like you were gonna be sick” she spoke as she looked up at me.
did i just imagine that entire thing?
“chris, what’s wrong?” she asked, placing her hand on my shoulder.
“did you come to the door to talk to me at all?” i asked.
“no, why?”
oh, this is not good. i’m fucked.
she cupped my jaw in her hand, swiping her thumb across the corner of my lips.
“you had a little drool” she lightly smirked at me.
🤨🤨🤨
1. HE’S BOLD.
“ok, i should get going” she spoke as she patted my knee lightly.
she was cuddled into my side, her head laying on my shoulder while my arm was wrapped around her waist.
her shirt had ridden up slightly, allowing my hand to rest against her bare skin.
although it may not seem like a big deal, being able to feel her skin was driving me crazy.
i wanted to run my hands all over her body, but i couldn’t. so i settled for the small area of skin that was exposed.
“noooo, just tell your friends to come here” i spoke as i lightly played with the rings on her hand.
“chris…it’s a girl’s night out. that completely defeats the purpose” she said.
“i know, i know. i just don’t want you to go” i spoke before leaving a small kiss to her neck.
i kept my face there, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume.
i tried my hardest to move my face away from her neck, but i couldn’t find it in me to pull away.
i shouldn’t have left the kiss in the first place, because now that i knew what it felt like, i wasn’t going to be able to stop.
i left a kiss to the same spot.
and another.
and another.
i moved up her neck, beginning to leave them along her jaw.
“chris” she sighed out, tilting her head to give me better access.
i continued to press my lips to her jaw, and moved up towards her ear, stopping just below it when she let out a moan.
the noise traveled straight to my dick, and i groaned out against her skin.
i focused on the sweet spot, enjoying the way her body reacted to it.
“fuck, chris” she moaned.
suddenly, nick bursted through my door, making us pull apart quickly.
“your friend’s here” he spoke to her, taking in the distance between us and our heavy breathing. “y’all good?”
“yup” we spoke quickly, at the same time, making nick look at us weirdly.
“i should go, don’t wanna keep them waiting” she spoke as she left quickly.
“i just ruined something, didn’t i?” nick asked.
i let out a heavy sigh as i fell back onto my bed.
yeah, i’m fucked.
💋💋💋
is chris delusional ??? 🤔
i loveee this
masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @heraakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07
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sttoru · 9 months
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A WELCOMED INTERRUPTION !
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ෆ sypnosis. shiu kong catches toji and you in the living room. toji decides to invite shiu into the fun and he agrees after some deep thinking.
ෆ note. this is a part two to this post ! make sure to read that one first. &&i’m happy u all enjoyed the first part ehhh.. i tried my best w this one too, enjoy. also not entirely proof read so excuse the possible mistakes. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !
ෆ tags. dom!toji (+shiu) x female reader. three some, blowjob, breast play, objectification, degradation, name calling (whore, slut), cum play, free use, dacryphilia, creampies, male masturbation, voyeurism-ish, multiple orgasms, spanking, hair pulling, overstimulation, doggy style, breeding mention. toji’s mean, shiu a bit less.
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“fine, but we have ten minutes.”
shiu kong crosses the room in a couple strides, hands skilfully removing piece after piece of his clothing until he was left in nothing. you couldn’t quite figure out the unreadable expression on shiu’s face once he came close enough to toji and you on the leather couch.
it was impossible to do so through your tears. plus, due to the man on top of your body guiding your head back to look him in the eyes.
“just because he’s joining doesn’t mean y’re allowed to take those eyes off of me.” if toji wasn’t just a fling, you could’ve sworn that those words were said out of jealousy or possessiveness. even if he was the one who suggested the threesome in the first place.
toji hisses and grunts as he pulls all the way out of you before slamming back in twice as hard. your screams of pleasure were like music to his ear. and not only to toji’s ears; shiu was having a hard time holding his usual calm self together every time he hears your sensual moans.
“shit..” shiu curses under his breath, his demeanour slowly falling apart because of the sight in front of him. but, also because he secretly desires to be the one getting those reactions out of your mouth, “she’s quite noisy, eh?”
toji laughs a bit; a mean (almost condescending) laugh, “yeah— maybe we can see which one of us can make her even noiser, whadd’ya think?”
“..or ya can just make her shut up by stuffing that mouth full. your choice.”
your hands were trembling as they try to hold onto any solid object you could spot out of your peripheral vision. your tears withheld you from seeing toji’s agent masturbating; shiu’s rough hand was swiftly gliding up and down on his cock—coating it with his own pre-cum. if it wasn’t for his desire to dump his cum in any of your holes, he’d have released it all over his own hand already.
“i think i’ll put that mouth of hers to use.” shiu had lost the internal battle of keeping himself together as he walked closer to you, standing near your head and gently tapping the tip of his cock on your plump lips, “you know, toji’s told me you’re good at sucking men off and i’ve always wanted to test that claim myself.”
your eyes slightly widen in response, unable to comprehend anything in this situation you got yourself in. neither toji nor shiu cared about that; they just cared about the pleasure you were going to be giving them.
“c’mon,” toji grins and pulls out of you completely, looking down at his throbbing cock which was covered in your fluids before flipping you around on your stomach, “y’re gonna be a good little slut and suck that man off, yeah?”
shiu takes notice of toji’s action and immediately gets into position like the two have done this many times before with other women. the agent takes a seat in front of you, legs spread to give you a nice view of what he was packing between them. shiu’s back was resting against the armrest as his eyes were scanning your face from up close, “what a pretty girl.”
your mouth was watering more than it did previously, drops of saliva running down your chin as you stared at shiu’s cock in front of you. a harsh slap to your ass makes you squeal lightly and your pussy clench onto nothingness.
“i said something, didn’t i?” toji clicks his tongue while he checks out your ass in his position behind you, “get to work.”
your hands found their way to shiu’s thighs and they slid up until they were wrapped around the base of his cock. an almost unnoticeable grunt left shiu’s lips once he felt that jolt of pleasure run through his body from your simple touch. he had waited so long for this.
“fuck— take me in your mouth.” the older man breathlessly orders. you swallow the built-up saliva in the back of your throat and stick your tongue out to lick the tip of shiu’s dick— testing the waters first. as expected, shiu was easy to please since the man was already moaning and breathing heavy when you hadn’t even started yet.
toji looks down at the two and sees how you tease shiu by using your tongue. shiu was trembling a little, biting his bottom lip while one of his hands was tangled in your hair. the agent was trying very hard not to reach his climax already. not when he hasn’t felt your mouth around his cock at least once.
a smirk forms on toji’s lips as he sees the desperation and lust written all over shiu’s face. toji knew that you were good at giving blow jobs; the little teasing you did beforehand—where you’d hold eye contact with him while licking his length in small intervals—added to the entire experience.
“seems like you haven’t had any action in a while, huh?” toji grins while pumping his cock at the sight of you finally starting to suck shiu off. his hand moved in slow strokes, the other placed on your ass, prepared to slap it if you were caught slacking off.
“shut up, toji— shit!” shiu gasps and throws his head back once your mouth engulfs the fat tip of his dick. the warmth and wetness around his throbbing cock was driving him mad, “if i wasn’t too busy cleaning after your mess, i’d have a woman in my bedroom every day of the week.”
you held eye contact with shiu as he makes small talk with toji whom you couldn’t even see. you start bobbing your head in repeated up and down motions, his cock going in and out of your warm mouth, leaving it completely covered with your saliva in no time.
“fuckkk— she’s good.” shiu groans while his hand tugged at your hair, pressing down on your head to hit the back of your throat—the tip of your nose just a centimetre away from his lower abdomen, “way better than expected.”
that gains a small proud chuckle from toji. the assassin was starting to move, lining up his still hard cock against your entrance, “told ya. she sucks cock like a real fuckin’ slut—always knows what to do.”
shiu fully believes those uttered words as he sees you desperately suck him off, hands playing with his balls and sometimes stroking the rest of his length which you couldn’t fit in your mouth. your tears and drool were dripping down between his legs.
a muffled moan vibrates against shiu’s dick the moment you felt toji bully his way into your cunt again. this causes shiu to thrust his hips forward, making you almost choke at the unexpected movement.
“mhh, that’s hot.” shiu breaths out while holding onto your hair with both hands now, ready to repeat his actions since it added to his own pleasure, “do it again, come on—yeahhh— good girl.”
as you choke and slobber all over shiu’s length, toji starts to roughly pump back and forth, hands on your hips to keep your lower body up to meet his— “your cunt is so fuckin’ tight compared to before—fuck— bet it’s ‘cause you’re a slut who enjoys getting both her holes filled at the same time.”
toji smacks your ass a couple of times as his cock penetrates your cunt to its deepest point, “maybe we can fill a third one soon, don’cha think?”
yes, he was implying what you were thinking; anal sex. the nasty thought made you whimper and squirm under toji while continuing to move shiu’s cock in and out of your wet mouth in rapid strokes. shiu reacts to this by bucking his hips up again and again, moaning and grunting loudly, as was toji.
shiu looked down at you through his half closed eyes, enjoying the way you look with your mouth stuffed full of his cock. especially because you were crying as well; it made you look pathetic and helpless yet so attractive.
“fuck— with the way you’re sucking me off, i’m going to cum soon,” shiu says between shallow breaths, seeing your body powerlessly shift back and forth due to toji’s intense thrusts, “mhm— better swallow it all, okay?”
you let out a long, strangled moan. it wasn’t clear whether it was due to toji pounding you or shiu asking you that lewd favour. either way, shiu bucked his hips up one last time, hands clenching around your hair to push your head down all the way to the base of his cock before spurting his hot cum right down your throat—the taste bitter on your tongue.
“swallow,” the older man in front of you reminds you with a hoarse voice, keeping his dick between your lips to make sure you do as told before gradually taking it out with a hiss.
shiu taps the tip on your mouth a little to get the last drops of semen on your lips for you to lick off. toji’s agent started to lazily stroke his dick again, trying to make it hard so he could fuck you as well.
“mhh, want to cum in your pussy. maybe even breed you, huh?” shiu murmurs. his words were solely meant to fuel his desires and get his cock hard again, yet the thought could easily be made a reality.
toji groans as he hears his agent’s dirty talk about breeding you. this causes him to reach out and grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back while he angled his hips in a way to hit your cervix repeatedly.
“fuck, i might even let him do that to ya—let him dump his load into your pussy along with mine.” toji grins, feeling like his cock was swelling even more with each deep thrust, “how ‘bout we try that out?”
shiu takes the chance to watch your tits again as they come into view. his body was relaxing against the armrest of the trembling couch, one hand reaching out to cup a breast and squeeze the hardened nipple.
“ah! yes, y-yes, wan’ both of your cum inside me, please.” you plead and your back arches from all the sensations the two men were granting you in this moment. toji groans loudly at your words, feeling even more turned on than ever and he makes that known.
“yeah? fuck— y’re such a desperate, greedy whore.” toji mocks and continues to pound into your overstimulated cunt. shiu was still squeezing your breasts and flicking your nipples, going from one to the other,
“just hold on, little girl— gonna stuff you full first.” toji adds and thrusts a couple more times before you sense that familiar feeling again; toji’s cum flooding your insides until it can’t help but leak onto your thighs.
with a deep sigh, toji pulls out again to watch the white liquid overflow from your filled hole. shiu, in the meantime, was still admiring your tits and now used both hands to play with them.
you were too fucked out to see the way the two men were silently exchanging glances. toji nodded downwards at his place behind you and shiu understood: the two were changing places.
shiu let your breasts go and stood up, toji following afterwards. the assassin and his agent slowly swapped positions and stroked their cocks at the sight of your spent body, quivering and silently sobbing from overstimulation.
“mind if i borrow her from now on, toji? just from time to time.” shiu asks with a deep hum, enjoying the sight of toji’s cum leaking out of your hole and the way it stained your skin as the sticky fluid left trails down your thighs.
toji snickers as he was getting his cock hard again by looking at your tits and head between his legs,
“nah, i don’t mind. as long as she returns to me at the end of the day.”
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yesimwriting · 3 months
Text
something about bestfriend!felix who's so used to the world bending over backwards to please him that he seems entirely separated from the concept of boundaries.
it's one of the few things about him that remains unspoken because it reminds those in his social circle that no matter how much influence or money they might have, someone has more. and that someone is felix catton.
he's never weird about it, there's just this rule that everyone learns to pick up on and never mention. if felix wants to go out for the night or do anything socially with someone, it's customary for that person to cancel any other plans.
it might be more of an issue if felix's proximity didn't feel like sunbathing on an early summer day, but it does. so he's used to not having to work to get someone where he wants them.
until you.
despite your friendship still being relatively new, the two of you have bonded enough for you to accept his presence instantly.
felix didn't call before coming over. you answered the door after two knocks, grinning as soon as you saw him standing there. you didn't even think to ask about the lack of notice, you just invited him in and made some comment about how you were just studying.
he told you he didn't mind if you wanted to keep studying, that he brought over his own textbooks just in case. even though you were set up at your desk, you moved your supplies over to your bed so that you could sit with him.
it started off as separated as the two of you ever are, just your bent knee pressing gently into his lower thigh. your shared restraint dissolved quickly.
you're practically laying down, back partially supported by a wall and two pillows, felix's head resting on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair. he's holding up a textbook for you with one arm, fingertips absentmindedly brushing against your bare leg.
he breaks the silence with a sigh. when you don't respond, he turns his head and presses his lips against your thigh. your nails freeze against his scalp. "felix."
"lovie," he replies, tone as scandalized as yours. you sigh, and he can practically feel your eye roll.
felix grins, turning his head look up at you. he knows he should be good about this, about you, but he's not accustomed to practicing this kind of restraint. he's preoccupied with terribly soft thoughts of closer when he blurts out the question, "come out with me tonight?"
it's only a question by technicality, his eyes bright as if you've already agreed.
you press your lips together, and the hesitance in the look jabs at him. he brushes his knuckles against the side of your leg like that might tip the decision. "i have an econ test on monday."
the excuse deflates him. it's only friday, and even if it wasn't, you don't need to worry about your grades. there's a naturalness to your schooling, you grasp everything almost immediately. any personal selfishness aside, you don't need a weekend of studying. it's objective fact.
you're still watching him, expression unsure. "y'know too much studying's bad for you." your lips part, but before you can say anything, felix is shutting the book he'd been holding up for you.
he extends his arm, his palm covering the upper half of your face with the palm of his hand. you laugh out his name. "what? your eyes need the rest." you shift, still giggling as you halfheartedly try to push him off. "you'll get a headache."
your fingers wrap around his wrist. "you're my headache."
he lets out a mock gasp before pulling away entirely. felix doesn't miss your slight pout as he sits up. "actually?"
you're chasing after him, sitting up and attempting to grab his arm. felix lets you. "no." you squeeze his arm to you. "i meant it in a you're my best friend way."
"that so?" you nod innocently, all wide eyes as if to say see? i have no intentions of being anything other than a perfect angel.
felix pretends to contemplate forgiveness, then, with no warning lays down. you're not given a chance to deliberate what that means before he's tugging on your arm. he mumbles a brief, explanatory, "c'mere," as he pulls you into his chest.
you listen, moving to rest your chin against the side of his chest. your arm's across him. felix's shirt has ridden up right where your fingertips naturally rest. the bare contact makes goosebumps break out across your arms.
"go out with me tonight," he tries, voice soft. you have to drop your gaze to keep from immediately melting and agreeing to whatever he wants. "c'mon, think it's good for you to take a break every now and then."
you lift your head up just enough to glare at him. felix shifts his leg, pressing it against yours. you push back gently, just enough to reciprocate the gesture. "so you're saying i'm a friendless loser that only ever goes out when you make me?"
"i'm saying," he extends the syllables to buy himself some time to think, "i have to go, and i won't have any fun without you."
you find it hard to imagine that felix catton ever has to do anything he doesn't want to. you're also confident in his ability to find fun at a party. "you have farleigh, and oliver, and annabel--you'll be fine without me."
his hand is on your back, fingers tracing lazy patterns against the fabric of your t-shirt. "i don't want anyone else." the soft whine in his tone paired with his slight pout makes him seem smaller, like a little kid that just needs to be wrapped up. "i want you."
"you have me."
felix frowns, "doesn't feel like it."
you're losing. "do you really want me to go that badly?"
he smiles, feeling the crack in your resolve. "we'll just go for a little. have a drink or two, then y'can sleepover if you want." you do like sleeping over in felix's dorm. "and then tomorrow we can do whatever you want--study, watch a movie, dinner."
a sleepover and a saturday. this no longer feels like a loss. you smile, "deal."
felix's available hand finds your hip. "that's my girl."
the comment makes your face feel warm, you drop your head to rest on his stomach to hide any potential signs of being flustered. he'd tease you to no end about it. "i should get up, start getting ready."
he runs his hand down your back, "it's not until later." he moves his hand back up slowly. his thumb starts traces circles against your shoulder. "we've got time."
----
omg bestfriend!felix blurbs are everything to me,, if you have any thoughts about bestfriend-verse pls lmk,,
also?? might have to write a full fic for bestfriend-verse
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey
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flangore · 3 months
Text
❥ she loves me like a dog
feat.: Valentino & Vox/f!reader
summary: You try and run away from Valentino. It's an entirely stupid idea and backfires spectacularly.
warnings: nsfw content, noncon, physical + psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, violence, punishments, manipulation, Valentino and Vox are their own warnings, guns, object insertion
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Every demon in Hell, especially ones who had spent quite some time in the V's part of Pentagram City, knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.
With connections that spread like spiderwebs through every part of town, there was nowhere to be safe, nowhere to hide, given how Vox's eyes reached every street, every alley, a phone or a security camera always in each and every corner.
There was nowhere to hide — except for at the Hazbin Hotel, apparently under the protection of the Radio Demon. You had heard Vox whine and bitch about it at one point, anger dripping off his voice, and, despite knowing better, your heart had lept with hope. Days after, you had tried your hardest to ignore each of the silly ideas making themselves at home in your mind; had attempted to not think of running away, of a better life.
And yet, in the end, you hadn't been able to resist temptation.
Every demon in Hell knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.
That was why you had only yourself to blame for the consequences now that he had caught ahold of you once more, the contract, signed with both of your names, floating next to your face in silent mockery.
Tears brimmed in your eyes; your heart threatened to drop out of your chest with how erratically it was beating.
“I'm kinda disappointed, baby”, Valentino drawled, accent coming through thickly, betraying his calm and collected act. A claw, painted golden, hooked underneath your chin, tilting it upwards until your neck ached, your height difference only adding to the unease curling in your stomach. “Tell me, why did you do feel the need to run away like that?”
Your throat felt tight.
“Come on, you can trust me. Trust us.”
The chains, made of red smoke and currently wound tightly enough to leave marks around your wrists and ankles, really did not make you feel like you were able to trust him. Neither did Vox's presence. Admittedly, he had always unnerved you even more than Valentino had, though, right now, his smirk was downright terrifying.
“Was it the working conditions?” Vox crooned, tone lathered with contempt, with amusement. “Were you unhappy with your job? Do tell us. We're always open to criticism, really.”
There was no explanation that could have excused your actions.
Valentino's smirk widened. “Yeah, babe. What was the issue? I mean, you really can't quit, not with our contract, so what was the purpose of trying to run away?”
“I remember just how grateful you were when Val offered you this opportunity years ago. Do you suddenly think you're too good for us?”
Those words, leaving Vox's mouth so easily, finally dragged you far enough back into reality for you to get a noise out, high-pitched and terrified.
“No”, you choked out, quickly shaking your head, panic making you tremble. “No, that's not—”
“No? Then tell us the reason, mi amor.”
You were pretty certain you were in the middle of a panic attack, lungs feeling too small to take any oxygen in. Not that it mattered right now. “I don't know, I wasn't thinking—”
“That's such a shame. If you at least had an explanation, we could go easy on you.” Vox clicked his tongue, not looking like it was a shame at all. “Val, will you do the honours?”
“Already on it, babe.”
With how large of a being Valentino was, it was all too easy to forget just how quickly he was able to move. Pain bloomed on your cheek, your head spinning, and it took quite a moment for you to realise that he had hit you with the hilt of his gun, custom-made.
In the back of your mind, you wondered whether the rhinestones on it had left indents on your skin.
A metallic taste spread in your mouth. “Please—”
“It's a little late to beg”, Vox remarked.
Valentino's smile was all teeth, unkind in nature. “But it's fine, sweetheart, don't worry. I won't fire you.” His hand cupped your aching cheek, then grabbed ahold of your hair, yanking your head back painfully. “You'll be with us forever. Aren't you grateful? We just have to teach you a lesson. Can't have the bitches acting up, now can we?”
You really had no choice but to nod, tears dripping down your face, surely smearing your makeup, though that was the least of your worries as, suddenly, your bonds shifted, chains pulling taut, changing your position until your legs were wrenched apart.
Panties were rarely part of your work clothing, but being fully bare in front of them right now made bile rise up in your throat.
“See, I wanted to fuck you, remind you who you belong to”, Valentino commented, sounding terribly nonchalant. The muzzle of his gun pressed against the soft skin of your inner thigh, the metal cold. “But Voxxy had better ideas.”
Your heart must have stopped at one point, you were certain of it. This must have been a fever dream, a hallucination.
Despite the panicked thoughts running through your scrambled mind, you didn't protest; had no time to, either. Not that it would have been any use.
Before you knew it, Valentino pushed the gun into you, dry, fuck—, the pain making you cry out, voice high-pitched. Unceremoniously, he shoved it further inside, unrelenting until the hilt of it rested against the lips of your cunt, your whole body tense with agony.
“There we go.” Your eyes flickered over to Vox, the way he was palming himself through his trousers obvious even with your blurry sight. “That's hot. Hah—, look, she's even wet.”
At this point, you hardly noticed that you were screaming, throat aching, the thoughts of running away by now merely an unrealistic fantasy, silly, like the wishes of a spoiled child.
You were, in fact, not wet; instead, blood was easing the glide at least a little, albeit it hardly offered any relief.
You must've torn somewhere. Placing the pain seemed to be an impossible task when simply everything hurt.
At least it wasn't going to get worse from here on — it couldn't possibly.
Valentino just loved to prove you wrong.
“Hey, you think we can fit a dick in there at the same time?”
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marvelfilth · 3 months
Text
The mustache
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader
Warnings: none
Summary: Natasha crashes your date
Masterlist
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You let a fake laugh bubble out of your mouth for what feels like a hundredth time this evening. Your date looks smug, her eyes trailing over your form, almost leering. She takes a sip of her wine and licks her lips slowly, daring you to look.
You don't.
You can almost hear Natasha say I told you so.
You clear your throat and take another bite of a perfectly made steak - the only saving grace of this disastrous date.
You mentally cringe, closing your eyes briefly. Objectively, the date is going well - she showed up on time, held the door for you, helped you to your seat and made perfect small talk, occasionally throwing in a joke or two. You can excuse her wandering eyes, knowing you've been throwing mixed signals all evening.
You nod along to whatever story she's telling, smiling and chuckling when it's appropriate. You barely resist the urge to excuse yourself. You chew on your lower lip, wondering how you allowed yourself to get in such a mess.
Your phone chimes once, screen lightning up with a new notification.
Natasha.
Yep. Here's your answer.
You look at your date, hating how different her smile is from your best friends. It's too large, too open and not even half as genuine. Natasha's smiles are small, barely noticeable, but they're enough to make your breath come short.
You sigh. You need to stop comparing your every date to Natasha.
“Do you mind if I take a look? It might be important,” you ask, reaching for your phone. She nods happily, waving the waiter over for another glass of wine.
How bad is it?
You snort, coughing immediately to cover up the sound and reaching for your glass.
Another message appears right in front of your eyes.
That bad?
You choke on your wine, discreetly looking around, but coming up short.
Six o'clock, dumbass.
You wait a moment and look right behind you, mouth falling open when you finally see her.
She's sitting three tables down, wearing your favorite hoodie and a black cap. With sunglasses covering her eyes. In a dimly lit restaurant. What makes you let out a strangled laugh, though, is a perfect old fashioned mustache glued right under her nose. She twirls both ends around her fingers, curling them up, before lowering her glasses and sending you an exaggerated wink.
The best spy in the world, the woman who made entire governments collapse, is sitting right behind you, looking like a child playing dress up.
You whip around, your face red, and wave off your date's concerned look. “I'm alright.”
She nods, all too happy to continue talking about all of the famous people she's met through her job.
You hide your phone under the table and shoot your best friend a text.
You're ridiculous
Her reply comes instantly.
And yet you love me.
Her words hit a little too close to home.
You are hopelessly in love with your best friend.
Another message comes through.
What's wrong?
You frown, eyes darting around. You didn't even do anything to warrant the question.
And don't even try to lie. I can tell something's wrong.
You sigh, tell Natasha everything is fine, and place your phone face down on the table, your date still recounting a story of how she met some actress.
The next half an hour is tense. You can feel Natasha's eyes on you. You can hear her plotting a way to get you out of here, but you know you have to at least try to make it work, if not with… Connie? Courtney? Then with someone else, before you go completely mad.
Your phone rings. You can't stop yourself from picking it up.
“Sorry, it’s an emergency.” Your excuse sounds bad even to your own ears, and you wince when your date pointedly looks away with pursed lips.
“Do you want me to throw her out of the window?” She starts without a preamble. “If not, I have a knife in my boot and you know how good I am with knives.”
“Can't you handle it without me?” You ask, knowing Natasha will play along. Your date reaches for her purse, dejected. Guilt swirls in your chest, and you contemplate your next words. Maybe you should stay and-
“Don't feel bad, she's been looking at the blonde to your right since she came in,” Natasha drawls, “and no, I can't handle it without you. I need you back home.”
You blush, biting on your lower lip.
“I'm sorry, but there's been an-”
“Just go,” your date cuts you off, “I'll handle the bill.” Her eyes are on the blonde girl before she's done speaking, and you leave with your conscience clear.
Natasha catches up to you outside and leads you to her corvette - her sunglasses and cap are gone, but that ridiculous mustache is still in place.
“What do you think?” She asks as she opens the door for you before going around the car and taking a seat behind the wheel. “I like the look.”
You snort and shake your head, amused with your best friend's antics. “It's… something.”
She rolls her eyes, starting the engine. “I know you love it.”
You hum, relaxing against the soft leather, your worries stoved away by Natasha's calming presence.
“Why do you keep going on dates if you hate it so much?” She asks when you reach Compound gates.
You sigh, think of an answer that would get her off your back without making her suspicious.
“I just… I-” you stutter, wincing.
Great.
She raises an eyebrow, looking absolutely ridiculous, but so, so beautiful, it makes your entire chest ache.
The car comes to a stop, and Natasha focuses all of her attention on you.
“I need to get over someone.”
There, you've said it.
“Who?” She asks, and for the first time in all the years you've known her you can't read her at all.
“You don't know them.”
She looks ahead, her jaw clenched tight. “How long?”
You blink away the tears. “A few years.”
She looks down at her lap, her fingers tapping against her thigh. “Who?” She asks again.
“Natasha…”
“Is it Carol?” Her voice is tight, her eyes dart around the street.
“God no,” you chuckle, thinking about your blond friend. Valkyrie would kill you on the spot if you even looked at her the wrong way, not that you're interested anyway. They need to get over themselves and finally admit their feelings to each other. Anyone can see their pining from a mile away.
“Kate?”
You shake your head. “You don't know them.”
“Then tell me. What would it matter?”
“Nat, can we just-”
“Tell me.”
You groan, and turn to open the door, but Natasha’s hand landing on your thigh stops you. You swallow, freezing on the spot.
“Please.”
You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the inevitable. “It's you,” you whisper.
The hand on your thigh clumps tight. “What?”
“It's you,” you repeat, feeling braver after the admission. “Always you.”
She lets out a deep, shaky breath, before reaching for your face with her other hand. “Look at me, please.”
You face her, eyes still closed, a few tears sliding down your cheeks. They're wiped away a moment later, and your face gets enveloped in the softest warmth.
“Open your eyes.”
You swallow, and do as she asked. She looks at you like you're the most precious thing in the world.
“I love you.”
Your heart skips a beat at her words, lips falling open. “What?”
She smiles, her thumb tracing patterns on your wet cheek. “I love you.”
You look at her for a long moment, taking in her features - her forest green eyes, tender and soft, the slope of her nose, so kissable. Your eyes trail lower and then suddenly a loud laugh makes its way out of your chest. You bend, clutching your stomach, happy tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.
Natasha looks delightfully confused.
“I'm sorry, it's just…” you giggle, pointing at her face, “the mustache.”
She groans, tearing it away. “I've been going crazy all this time, you know.”
“Yeah?” You grin, head spinning.
“Yeah,” she says before claiming your lips. She's soft, so soft it makes your toes curl and your chest get warm and fuzzy. The kiss is gentle, loving. You mewl against her, opening your mouth and welcoming her tongue.
The kiss grows heated.
“I,” you gasp between the kisses, “I love you. So much.”
You can feel her blinding smile in the next kiss, and the one that comes after.
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forzalando · 3 months
Text
Seeing Someone
Lando Norris x friend!reader (female reader)
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summary: Lando is finally ready to tell you how he feels when he overhears you say that you've started seeing someone - but overheard conversations aren't always what they seem. wc: 5.5k author's note: a few disclaimers: 1. let's all pretend that everyone has to spend a few weeks at MTC before the start of the season and they commute to/from London. 2. therapy and mental health help are so important - i purposefully left some things vague because people go to therapy for a variety of reasons and it should be normalized! i also didn't want things to get too heavy or potentially upset anyone by choosing to elaborate on something they relate to/hits a little too close to home. 3. this was inspired by a post i saw on my dash that said "when you said you were seeing someone i was hoping you meant a therapist". this originally started out more light-hearted, but the angst came out and i couldn't stop. feeling a little insecure about this one - thoughts and feelings in the comments/reblogs/my inbox would be so cherished and appreciated :) once again, special shoutout to @sof1shticated for being my beta reader. couldn't do this without you, Mel! warnings: mentions of reader going to therapy, mentions of reader drinking, a few curse words (i think), and angst! but there is a happy ending (even if it's a little open-ended)
Lando had searched the entirety of McLaren HQ at this point and started to worry – you were quite literally nowhere to be found. Usually, this wouldn’t phase him, since you were notorious for getting distracted or caught up in conversation with everyone you came across. You especially found ways to delay leaving MTC when you had to be there physically – the commute from HQ back to London each day was objectively the worst part of everyone coming together in the weeks leading up to each new season.
Today, however, the two of you had plans to get dinner at your favorite restaurant in London and you would never miss a chance to devour your favorite scallop risotto, cheese garlic bread, several glasses of wine, and a heaping mound of tiramisu for dessert.
He stopped speed-walking abruptly when he saw a familiar head of brown hair out of the corner of his eye.
“OSCAR,” Lando shouted, his speed-walk turning into a run. “Oscar, have you seen Y/N? She told me to meet at her office at 5:00pm but it’s 5:30pm and she is literally missing. She better have a good excuse, I hate being late.”
“Missing? Are you sure she’s not just caught up in a meeting? I saw her heading to Zak’s office around 4:45pm, did you check there?”
“Zak’s office, of course! The one place I didn’t check. Thanks, Osc, you’re the man.”
Oscar rolled his eyes – “Anytime, Lan. What are you running late for? Hot date?”
Lando didn’t miss the wiggle of Oscar’s eyebrows and slight smirk. It wasn’t a secret to the Australian that Lando had a crush on Y/N – although Lando had never confirmed or denied it, it was pretty obvious to anyone who spent more than 30 seconds around them.
“Ah, something like that,” Lando said nonchalantly, a bashful blush making its way to his cheeks.
“Good luck, mate!” Oscar threw a wave over his shoulder as he heard the retreating sound of Lando’s trainers smacking against the floor.
In truth, although you and Lando were just friends and Lando was terrified he may ruin that, he had plans to tell you about his feelings for you that night at dinner. It had been almost a year since you started working for McLaren, and almost a year of Lando pining after you in secret. He spent most days trying to convince himself he was content just being your friend, but he was determined to make 2024 his year. His first win, hopefully of many, maybe even WDC contender material, and finally plucking up the courage to be honest with you.
As Lando hurriedly approached Zak’s office, he could see that the door was slightly ajar and heard your voice trailing through the opening.
“I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me, Zak. And a massive thank you for approving the time off on such late notice.”
“Anytime, Y/N, you know you’re like family to me and everyone here. You sure you’re ok?”
“Yes, I’m seeing someone. It’s still new so I’m not set on him yet but I have a really good feeling about it, I’m really starting to wish I had called him sooner. He actually suggested the days off, I’m seeing him on Tuesday and hopefully things continue to go well.”
Lando’s heart dropped to his stomach – all week he had been thinking about tonight. How to tell you, how you might react, how nervous he was, and each day he grew even more anxious. He was panicking – what was he supposed to do? How could he sit across from you all night knowing that he’d missed his chance?
“That’s so good to hear,” Zak said earnestly. “Keep me updated and enjoy your days off.”
Lando could hear chairs scraping and scrambled to leave the scene before you walked out of Zak’s office to find him eavesdropping. He got about 50 feet down the hallway before he heard your voice from behind.
“Lan,” you shouted. “I’m so sorry, I’m totally late but I had to meet with Zak about something and his last meeting went way over.”
You jogged a little to catch up to him – a bright smile on your face that made his heart rate skyrocket and his palms grow sweaty. He couldn’t see you feeling like this. Not tonight, not when he could barely keep himself from telling you that he would be a much better boyfriend than whoever you were dating.
“We still on for dinner? I grabbed everything I needed from my office before I met with Zak so if we leave right this second and ignore the speed limit, they may seat us,” you bumped his shoulder as you joked.
Unable to help himself, only thinking about how hurt he was even though you’d done nothing wrong, Lando blurted out an excuse. “Actually, I was trying to find you to tell you I can’t make it.”
He tried not to react when he saw your face fall a little, but he told himself it was because you were disappointed about the last-minute change in plans and not that he wasn’t going.
“You should still go though,” he offered quickly. “I’m sure you have someone you could take with you!”
Your eyes spotted Oscar across the hallway and you smiled slightly – it had been a while since you had spent time with him and you knew he was having a rough week.
“Yeah, I have someone in mind,” you mused, focusing your eyes back on Lando. “Is everything ok? Are you not feeling well?”
“No, I’m fine, I just forgot I have plans.”
“Well, we had plans. You scheduled over me?”
“It’s a last-minute thing. Date thing. Last-minute date thing.”
“Oh,” you gasped. “Oh, that’s great!” You plastered a fake smile on your face – hoping that he was just as oblivious now as he apparently is to your feelings. “I hope you have a great time, she’s a lucky girl! I’ll see you on Wednesday, I’m taking a couple days off!”
Before he had a chance to say anything else, you sped off in search of Oscar to bribe him to accompany you to dinner. While you set off across the room, Lando smacked himself in the forehead and groaned.
“Why did you tell her it was a date, you idiot,” he mumbled to himself. Now, it was his turn to speed walk through McLaren HQ, but if he had turned around just for a moment, he would have caught you stopped in your tracks staring at him longingly as he walked away.
You shook your head and sighed, continuing your quest to find the younger McLaren driver and rope him into an evening filled with good food and, if you were being honest with yourself, probably a few tears.
A few moments later, you spotted floppy brown hair bouncing as Oscar walked toward the employee parking lot.
“Oscar!” You yelled after him, increasing your pace to catch up to him.
“Hey,” he said, confusion evident on his face, “I thought you were going out with Lando?”
“He’s got a date,” you blurted. “He has a date and he canceled on me and it’s fine. I am fine. But I want my scallop risotto and tiramisu so you’re coming with me.”
“Sure, Y/N, lead the way.”
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Oscar was, to put it extremely lightly, confused. Lando was completely enamored by you – anyone with eyes could see it. Oscar was wholly convinced that Lando was going to officially ask you out at dinner tonight, especially after the brief conversation they had while you were late to meet up with him.
Yet, here he was, sat across from you in a dimly lit room as you sipped on your third glass of wine and, with all the subtlety of a neon sign, wiped a tear from your lower lash line.
“It’s not that I’m not happy for him, I’m so happy for him. But canceling last minute is a dick move, right? It’s a dick move. I know I’m just his friend, sometimes I feel like just a colleague, but I’m not being dramatic, right?”
Oscar stared at you blankly – his eyes wide and a look of pure fear on his face. He considered himself good at most things, great at quite a few, but comforting a crying woman was bottom of the list of Oscar Piastri’s skills.
“It’s totally a dick move,” he nodded his head eagerly in agreement. “I just don’t get it – when I saw him earlier he was frantic trying to find you. I think he’d scoured the entirety of MTC, he was out of breath when I found him.”
“Well, at least he had the decency to find me and tell me in person that he planned on ditching me.”
“Yeah, but that’s just it, it didn’t seem like he was trying to find you to tell you that. He complained about being late and when I asked him if he had a hot date, he blushed.”
“He is literally on a hot date.”
“Ok, well, when I asked him I meant did he have a hot date specifically with you.”
You scoffed and set your glass down – as much as you loved Oscar and you knew he’d never judge you, if you had any more wine you’d end up sobbing and not just wiping stray tears away.
“As if! Lando has never once made a move on me even though I flirt, or at least try to flirt, with him any chance I get.”
“You flirt with Lando?”
“I made him a personalized Spotify playlist, had Stroopwafels overnighted to him from The Netherlands after Vegas, bought him a sweater for his birthday with a card that said ‘to match your eyes’, and I compliment him every time I see him.”
“That’s your idea of flirting?”
“Well, yes.”
“Y/N, that’s just being nice to people. You’re nice to everyone. Lando is not going to understand that you’re a little extra nice to him and that means you’re trying to woo him.”
You huffed and slumped in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Ok, well, how would you flirt with Lando?”
“Did you seriously just ask me that question?”
“Yes because apparently you know all about flirting! And by the way, Logan thought I was coming onto him when I was just being nice so some people would consider my actions flirtatious.”
“That doesn’t count, Logan thinks Uber drivers are flirting with him when they say ‘have a nice day’.”
You and Oscar shared a laugh at the mention of your mutual friend – somehow an even more hopeless case than you in the world of romance.
Your laughs turned to giggles and eventually died down completely. A sigh climbed its way out of your throat, the sudden change in your mood evident to Oscar.
“It doesn’t matter anyway – he’s seeing someone so no more trying, and according to you failing, to flirt.”
“You don’t know how serious it is, maybe this was a first date and it’ll go horribly. He definitely doesn’t have a girlfriend if that’s what you’re worried about, he was just saying the other day that Lily and I make him feel painfully single. We can ask him about it on Monday!”
You frowned a bit and tried to recover, but Oscar noticed the way your face fell slightly. “I’m actually taking a few days off, I need some personal time. I won’t be back at MTC until Wednesday.”
“Is everything ok? You don’t have to tell me but if you need anything, you know I’m there for you, right?”
You smiled at Oscar – it was a rare thing to find such great friends in the people you worked with, but you got so incredibly lucky with the McLaren team, especially Lando and Oscar. “I know that, Osc. You’re a gem.”
With a nod of understanding, Oscar changed the subject to something more pleasant, and you enjoyed the rest of your evening with your friend.
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When Wednesday morning rolled around, you felt like your stomach might explode from nerves. You had resisted texting Lando over the past few days to ask about his date, you didn’t want to seem too eager and hoped it would come up naturally in conversation during the day. You hadn’t talked to Oscar much, though he’d texted you a few times to check in, but you wondered if he had talked to Lando at all and if he had details on how well Lando’s date went.
You arrived at MTC fairly early, hoping to get a head start on your day. Winter break was nearly over, and you were swamped with finalizing everything for the start of the 2024 season. It wasn’t until lunch that you saw Lando at all and he just so happened to be waiting in your office, sitting comfortably in your chair, while you were walking back from your latest meeting.
“Lando! What are you doing here?”
“I, uh,” he scrambled. “I was just…I don’t know really. I guess I wanted to see you, we haven’t talked in a few days since you’ve been out.”
“Well, we’ve both been busy. You could’ve texted me. How was your date?”
“It was good. Great. How about yours?”
You smiled remembering your evening with Oscar, assuming he had told Lando at some point that he had accompanied you. “Honestly so fun, we had the best time. I hope we get to do it again soon.”
Lando cringed – jealousy rearing its ugly head as he looked down at his feet before answering. “Same, I’ll probably go out with her again this weekend.”
“Good for you,” you gritted. “I’m glad you had fun. I actually have a million things to do so if there’s nothing important…”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to see you. I guess we’ll catch up soon? Hope you enjoyed your days off.”
Mustering up a fake smile, you told him definitely, awkwardly standing as he rose from your desk and left your office. As soon as he was far enough away that he couldn’t hear you, you groaned. The tension between you and Lando was unbearable, though you didn’t understand why it seemed to mostly be coming from him. Before you had a chance to think any further, you could hear your phone buzzing from inside your bag and begrudgingly pulled it out to see a text from Oscar.
did you go on a date over the weekend?
no? why are you asking me that?
well then why did lando just sit across from me and say ‘did Y/N tell you anything about her date?’
he was just in my office, I asked him how his date went and he asked about ‘mine’. i assumed he was talking about Friday and that you told him i brought you?
i never told him, i guess he thought you brought a real date?
You paused before responding to Oscar, confusion evident on your face and in your lack of response. Before you could type out a reply, two more texts came in.
ok something is up because i just told him that i went with you on friday and he said “i know, i saw you in her insta story in the reflection of a wine glass, i’m talking about yesterday”
insane that he looked close enough to see me in your wine glass but not the point
i literally haven’t been on a date in two years
let me figure this out
You slid your phone back into your bag and pulled out your laptop – your Lando problems would have to wait until you were at least somewhat caught up after missing two days so close to the start of the season.
Meanwhile, at a conference room table in MTC, Oscar was confused. Which, as of late, was a common occurrence when it came to you and Lando.
“Mate,” Oscar addressed Lando, “if you’re not talking about Friday, what date did you ask Y/N about? She hasn’t been on a date in forever.”
“Well then he must have canceled on her because she was supposed to have plans yesterday, it’s why she took days off.”
“I don’t know the exact reason why she took days off but she told me on Friday that she was and didn’t seem too happy about it. Said it was personal reasons.”
“Going on a date is personal.”
“Not ‘take two days off of work’ personal! Where are you even getting this information?”
Lando looked away sheepishly, afraid to admit to Oscar that he had eavesdropped on a private conversation between you and Zak. With Oscar looking at him expectantly, and a bit like a pissed-off Mum, he blurted it out.
“I heard her talking to Zak! Last week on Friday, when I was looking for her, she was in his office and the door was cracked. She had asked him for a couple days off and talked about how she recently started seeing someone and was seeing him again on Tuesday aka yesterday.”
Now Oscar was really confused. You had cried over Lando publicly on Friday, and he knew you fairly well, which meant there was no way you would be crying over Lando and going out with someone else four days later.
“I think you need to just talk to her because I promise you, she is not seeing someone. Also, what do you care? You ditched her for a date on Friday.”
Oscar had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched Lando’s face fall.
“Lando, tell me you didn’t.”
“I might have.”
“Jesus, Lando, you heard 30 seconds of a conversation and decided to lie to her? Because what, your ego took a blow? Some caveman instinct?”
“No, I don’t know, honestly. It just slipped out! I had planned to ask her out for real and when I heard her say ‘I’m seeing someone’, I just didn’t know how to be around her. I couldn’t be around her that night.”
“You need to go talk to her. Apologize. Preferably, immediately.”
Lando jumped up from his seat and sighed. “You’re right. She might kill me, and she has every right to, but I have to talk to her and apologize to her. Wish me luck!”
Before Oscar could do what Lando had asked, Lando raced off towards your office, barely stopping himself from tripping over his own two feet.
Across MTC, you had just settled your mind and gotten into a groove of catching up on emails and making progress on deadlines. As soon as you thought to yourself that the day was going better than expected, your office door flung open and Lando Norris was standing stiff in your doorway.
“Lan, I told you that I’m busy. What is going on?” Annoyance was evident in your voice and Lando cringed knowing that this conversation was probably not going to be very pleasant.
“Why did you take time off?”
Your body straightened in shock, of all the things he could have asked you after bombarding you in your office, you wouldn’t have guessed he would pry into your personal life.
“That’s none of your business, Lando. If you were worried about me, you could have reached out, but I haven’t heard from you since you ditched me on Friday.”
Lando could see the hurt on your face, he could see it evident in your body language. He thought back to how you had looked upset immediately when he told you on Friday that he couldn’t go with you – when he told himself it had nothing to do with you wanting to spend time with him.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry for that, it wasn’t – I mean I didn’t, I didn’t want to not go. I just didn’t know what to do.”
“Ok, I’m totally lost. You didn’t know what to do about what, Lando?”
He steeled himself for your reaction – something he had learned by being your friend for the past year was that you held trust and truth in high regard. You didn’t like being lied to, and you didn’t like people trying to dig into your life or get information you weren’t willing to share.
“I heard you in Zak’s office. I wasn’t eavesdropping on purpose, I swear, I was looking for you because you were late meeting me. Oscar told me you might be with Zak so I went there and the door was open. And I heard you. So I lied and told you that I couldn’t go to dinner, I don’t know why I said I had a date. All I could focus on was how hurt I was, I just couldn’t be around you and then I felt so stupid and terrible for lying so that’s why I didn’t text you at all.”
You were completely and utterly perplexed – you couldn’t even react with anger at the thought of Lando listening to a private conversation and outright lying to you. What could he have overheard that he was so upset about?
“Lando, I’m still confused. What did you hear? How did I hurt you?”
“No, no, you didn’t hurt me. You have no idea how I feel about you – I was going to tell you that night.” Lando was word-vomiting at this point, he never wanted you to find out this way but he couldn’t stop rambling. “I have had feelings for you for so long, and I finally decided that I was going to tell you even if I was convinced you don’t feel the same. And now I know you don’t because you’re seeing someone and – ”
You interrupted him sternly, allowing the anger you were feeling to come forth and shoving down your confusion. “I’m not dating anyone? Is that why you asked Oscar about my ‘date’? Where did you get that idea?”
“You told Zak that you’re seeing someone and that it’s new but things are going good. I heard you say you were seeing him again on Tuesday.”
Your eyes doubled in size – if you weren’t so pissed off, you might have found humor in this, but you felt heat rising to your cheeks and your stomach churned at the thought of divulging your personal struggles.
“Lando, I’m seeing a therapist,” you hissed.
He froze for a moment, then scrambled to shut your door which was still ajar from him barging in.
“A therapist? Are you okay? What’s going on, why didn’t you tell me that you’ve been struggling?”
“No, no, you don’t get to do this right now. You don’t get to make me less angry by being kind and caring.”
“I’m not doing it to make you less angry, Y/N, I genuinely – ”
“I don’t care, Lando! You eavesdropped on my private conversation, misunderstood the context of that conversation, and then you lied to me. You hurt me. And now, because you got your feelings hurt and did things you shouldn’t have done, I have to share something I wasn’t comfortable sharing with you just yet.”
Lando was speechless – you could see the remorse on his face, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, but in that moment you wanted him to feel even worse than you were.
“And you want to know the worst part,” you cried. “I feel the same way about you. I cried to Oscar at dinner because I thought you were with someone else, that you would have rather been at dinner with a different girl.”
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Can we please just go somewhere and talk? Really talk this out? I know I messed up, but this doesn’t have to change things or how we feel about each other.”
You wanted to, god, did you want to – you knew Lando hadn’t done any of this on purpose. You knew he didn’t have malicious intent and you knew how hurt he probably felt at the idea of you being with someone – it was exactly the way you felt when you thought the same about him.
“I think you should go, Lan”. Despite every part of you wanting to sit and talk, you knew that you needed some time to settle down.
“Ok,” he whispered. “When you’re ready,” he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, “if you’re ever ready, you know where to find me.”
His posture made you feel sick as he left your office – Lando was always confident, shoulders back and head held high, but as you watched him through the glass walls surrounding you, he was hunched over. Dejected. You’d only ever seen him that way a few times – after he was torn apart by the media or after making a mistake during a race.
It hurt you to see him that way. But, he had also hurt you, and you needed time.
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It had been two weeks since “the incident” with Lando – that’s what Oscar started calling it and it stuck. Fight felt too strong, disagreement felt too weak, so it became something nameless. Undefined. Indeterminate. Exactly like what existed now between you and Lando.
Oscar and Lando were set to leave for Sakhir in a week and you wouldn’t see them again until you joined the team for the Australian GP. If you didn’t work things out with Lando before they left for testing, it would be well over a month without a resolution.
The thought made your eyes burn with tears – you were still upset but more than that you missed Lando. You didn’t even have to wonder if he felt the same because you’d seen him around MTC. He looked just as awful as you, if not worse, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to start a conversation.
You began packing up your things to leave the office, grateful beyond belief that it was a Friday and you’d have two days without seeing Lando’s familiar curls everywhere you turned. At least at home, you would only see them behind closed eyes and wouldn’t have to blink back tears.
A knock at your door startled you, but you assumed it was your team lead looking for your latest analytics report. At least there was one thing you could be happy about – the car data was phenomenal and all signs were pointing to an amazing season for McLaren.
You told whoever was knocking to come in, not looking up from your bag as you rifled through your files. “So sorry, Tom, I meant to bring this to you earlier but I – ”
A throat clearing cut you off, and you looked up to see Lando standing in your doorway with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and one of those cheesy “I’m sorry” balloons in his left hand. You almost giggled, but then you looked at his face and your heart dropped. Dark circles under red-rimmed eyes - he looked awful. 
“I know you said you’d reach out when you’re ready to talk, and I wanted to respect that and give you all the space you need. But, we’re both miserable. At least I think you’re miserable, I know I am. I miss you terribly. I miss my friend. And if that’s all you’ll ever be to me, I can respect that and I will cherish it because the past week has been the worst week of my life.”
“Lando, I – ”
“Please, please let me get all of this out. Please let me apologize.”
You smiled slightly, nodding your head for him to continue.
“I’m sorry for invading your privacy. It wasn’t on purpose but I should have left as soon as I heard you talking because I know how important trust is to you. I violated yours and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying to you. It doesn’t matter if I was hurt, I could’ve just said I wasn’t feeling well or asked you about what I overheard immediately. After apologizing for overhearing, of course. I’m sorry that it took Oscar talking sense into me for me to come to you in the first place. I’m sorry that I hurt you and I’m sorry that I behaved like a child instead of talking to you about my feelings. My actions made you feel forced to tell me something personal that you weren’t ready to share. I’m so sorry, and I hope you know that I’m here for you always.”
He let out a deep breath and you watched his shoulders relax slightly for the first time in two weeks. You knew he was sorry – you’d known how sorry he was immediately when he started explaining and apologizing the first time around, but you just weren’t ready to hear it yet.
“Thank you, Lan,” you whispered as you walked towards him and took his free hand in your own. “I know you’re sorry and I know that this was all a misunderstanding that just got out of hand.”
“I am also sorry for springing my feelings on you. I wanted to tell you properly, ask you out properly, but I couldn’t explain myself without telling you. I ruined everything, it was woefully unromantic.”
“Yeah, that was a bit shit, I didn’t get my big grand gesture or anything.”
Lando’s eyes grew wide, a hopeful gleam in them. “I mean, would you – is that something you would still want? I don’t want to pressure you and I don’t want to assume that you still feel the same.”
“I do,” you said softly. “But, I think we should work on really moving past this before we officially jump into anything more.”
“I completely agree. However, I do have a reservation for two in about forty minutes to make up for ditching you, if you’d like to join me? Otherwise, I’ll have to bring Oscar. He won’t stop talking about the cheese garlic bread.”
“No, Lando, you don’t understand. He ordered three baskets. I went home and typed an apology email to Zak for ruining his diet.”
You both erupted in giggles, leaning into each other for support and out of habit. It felt so good to laugh, the weight and stress of the past two weeks rolling off in waves as Lando’s shoulder bumped yours and you heard the unmistakable laughter that you’d come to love so much.
“Maybe we should bring him anyway,” you pondered. “He’s been an exceptionally good friend to us both the past couple of weeks.”
“He can come next time, I’d like you to myself for the evening. If that’s ok?”
“More than ok, Lan. I’ve really missed you.”
He leaned in quickly, kissing your cheek gently and then nuzzling his nose against your neck, inhaling the scent of the perfume he’d gifted you for your last birthday. “Not as much as I’ve missed you,” he objected, his eyes glimmering slightly. Wet eyelashes fluttered against your neck as he stayed tucked into your side for a few more moments.
“We’re going to be late,” you whispered, with a sincere lack of urgency.
“Can we go back to my hotel room instead? Watch a movie and order in? Jus’ wanna hold you.”
Your heart constricted – as much as you wanted to tease him and say he owed you a night out and your favorite meal, you wanted nothing more than to spend the night in Lando’s arms.
“Of course, Lan. I think I need that too.”
On the way to Lando’s car, you passed Oscar who gave you both a knowing smile and a short wave. If you asked him if he had been waiting for you guys to leave, he would deny it. He would deny being so invested in your reconciliation that he waited close to an hour after he could leave for the day to make sure you were both ok. He would also deny that he tracked both of you and when it dawned on him that you were skipping your dinner, he sped to that little Italian place and stole your reservation for an order (or two) of cheese garlic bread.
He couldn’t resist sending a poorly taken picture to the group chat with the three of you and you burst out laughing when you opened it.
“Lan, Oscar somehow stole our dinner res,” you giggled, turning your phone to show Lando an unmistakable basket of bread and a follow-up text with several heart emojis.
Lando held his phone up to snap a quick selfie of you two cuddled up in bed, him leaning in for the second time that evening to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. Almost immediately after it delivered, your phones lit up with another text from Oscar.
HOT DATE FR THIS TIME?
You and Lando looked at each other and smiled, the mutual understanding of where you stood with your feelings evident.
not quite yet, but soon :)
2K notes · View notes
eyelessfaces · 11 months
Text
apology
miguel o'hara x reader
summary: miguel hasn’t come home in weeks. he tries to make it up to you.
warnings: smut, porn with minimal plot, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, a bit of angst, we're a bit mean to miguel because we're mad at him
tags: f!reader, sub!miguel (hell yeah), we make miguel suffer (sorry bb)
word count: 1k
masterlist | taglist | ao3
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Miguel hadn’t come home in weeks, and it was with a guilty pinched smile and a bouquet of flowers that he reappeared at your doorstep. 
When you first saw him, you wanted to take the flowers from his hands and slam the door right in front of his face, but you knew that he certainly had a good reason and excuse to have done what he had done. 
He didn’t tell you much about it; you figured it was more about his spiderman activities than about his work, because he rarely told you about the spider stuff, wanting to keep you as far away from it as possible. You were sometimes mad that he wouldn’t tell you anything about it, but he kept on insisting that it was for your own good, that you shouldn’t get too close to it. He had already paid the price.
He apologized, apologized and apologized about not coming back for so long. You told him that it was fine, but he knew it wasn’t, he knew that you were hurt, he saw how you wouldn’t look him in the eyes.
He didn’t need this; he didn’t need you to hate him, it might be even worse and scarier than every universe collapsing.
He owed you an apology, a real one. He didn’t know if what he had in mind could work, but he could try.
Which was why he found himself with your thighs caging his face, your hand tightly gripping his hair. He sometimes got carried away, kissing and biting at your thighs while he repeated that he was sorry, over and over again, before you tugged his hair into diving back into eating you out like it was the last time he did it.
If you repressed your moans to let him know that you were still mad, he was doing all the contrary. He deeply enjoyed this, and he wanted you to know it. If he could spend the whole night between your thighs he would, and even though his crotch ached for some friction, all that mattered to him at that moment was you and your pleasure.
He mouthed at your pussy as if he was making out with it; licking long, slow and languid stripes through your folds, gathering your slick over his tongue as if it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. 
He pulled away to kiss the inside of your thighs, and just as you were about to scold him for it, he left a kiss at your clit before gently curling the tip of his tongue around it, making a strangled moan leave your mouth. 
He smugly smiled at your reaction but quickly got back to work; he actually thought of something better, and pulled away, making you groan at the loss.
He laid down on the bed and pulled you on top of him so you could straddle his chest, and you huffed out a laugh when he started to beg you to sit on his face, pulling your hips higher up his body so you could use him as you wished.
“Use me baby, I deserve to be used”
And it was a good idea, you had to admit. You could control it all now, grinding onto his face as if he was just an object. His nails were digging into the meat of your thighs, marking crescents into your skin as he hummed against you, his broad hands then shifting to your ass so he could knead the tender flesh, pushing you even lower onto his face. You even wondered how he could breathe, but your concern quickly flew out the window when his nose rubbed against your clit. 
Your hand had unconsciously fisted onto his hair to hold him in place as you rocked yourself harder against his tongue, fucking it until you lost your mind; you pulled away and straddled his chest just as you were about to come, leaving him confused and wondering as he caught his breath, the lower half of his face drenched in your juices. 
He licked his lips clean, looking up at you with half lidded eyes, so fucking pussy drunk. He sounded so gone when he asked you why you pulled away, but he looked even more gone as you got rid of his pants and explained that you wanted to come on his cock but that he wouldn’t get to come.
He let out a small whimper when you lowered yourself onto him, his hands finding and gripping your hips in a bruising hold. 
You bounced on him at an unforgiving pace; his head was thrown back into the pillows as he let out small moans, trying to contain himself.
You leaned onto him and kissed his neck, softly biting at the warm skin before repositioning and putting your hands over his chest, his muscles softly twitching under your touch, your soft moans driving him even crazier.
You were close, you knew it, and so did he. He watched down to where you were connected and bit on his bottom lip as he guided your hips up and down, your rocking more languid as you tried to reach your peak. You felt him twitch inside of you and reminded him not to come, and he responded with a small wail as he nodded, still biting hard on his bottom lip, the poor skin almost bleeding.
You came with a silent cry, his hips snapping up into you and burying himself even deeper as he worked you through your orgasm, focusing on every muscle of his body to try not to come as you rode out your high on his lap, his own about to tip over the edge. 
He whined as you climbed off of him, his orgasm stolen away from him, just as you had promised. 
You watched with awe and a sly smirk as his body stiffened, his cock twitching desperately in front of you, his hands pawing at the bedsheets in frustration. 
You smirked proudly, putting a hand at his cheek before kissing his lips then his forehead, his eyes shutting tight.
"Look at you baby" you cooed, looking down at your hand softly stroking his thigh to tease him even more, so damn close to where he needed you. “Maybe I'm a bit less mad at you.”
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