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#I drink coffee so obviously I need this
mylittleredgirl · 1 year
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i did actually get a good grade in therapy today so while it is still not normal to want it IS possible to achieve
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house-of-frangus · 1 year
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btw my friend & i are going full riz gukgak conspiracy board trying to figure out filming schedule of neverafter/d20 shows, HMU if u have any intel or info of what’s been said in the past about it
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terezipyropescrocs · 9 months
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a couple days ago i was so tired i fell asleep in the late evening and instead of waking up exactly four hours later like i usually do when i go to bed at any time before ~6am i slept all night and reset my sleep schedule so i am currently diurnal which i have been taking as an opportunity to Do Science
a recent theory that i've been developing is that part of the reason i prefer being awake at night and feel much more awake then on average is that the daytime is A Lot in terms of sensory stimulus- it's brighter, louder, warmer, my family are all up and about, it's less predictable etc. and now i'm starting to wonder if that all has a cumulative effect on my energy that i don't even notice because i'm so desensitized to it
eg. cognitively i know light fixtures hurt my eyes but i sometimes stare directly at them anyway (??) so like maybe it effects me more than i realize just from them being on....? or bright ambient light in general, during the day we don't keep a lot of lights on BUT we have very large sun-facing windows and make the rooms Very bright
SO the other day i started to wear sunglasses indoors and outdoors and almost immediately i felt more relaxed (which is different from Tired) and didn't have as bad of an eye strain even through they weren't prescription and i was like !!!!!
anyway now i'm trying to find a way to reduce noise, i have some wireless headphones that i recently got for executive dysfunction reasons (music helps me focus) and i wore those to dinner to pretty great results but unfortunately they 1) amplify and reverberate my footsteps 2) hurt my head because Pressure
another problematic consequence of this experimentation is now that i Know what it's like to not have everything be so loud all the time it's like any desensitization has been reversed and i'm now noticing way more just how unpleasant it all is!
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freesomebodybyluna · 10 months
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today has been so evil so far if you go to sbux today you're going to hell
#for like 2 hrs straight i was up to my neck is mobile/cafe/delivery orders & everyone was up to their neck in their positions too#and at one pt our shift was on lunch so it was only 3 of us on the floor & bc my coworker was so swamped with food & front orders#the drip coffee wasnt being brewed & so i had to brew asap for a lady who had been waiting for a mobile order for a while#and so i was trying to do that asap and got the grinds in the filter at one pt so i had to regrind#and my coworker doing drive drinks was like 'whos doing cafe?? youre supposed to be on cafe???'#and im like first of all I'm technically only customer support but ive been planted at this station helping YOU out#which i did say all of that but ne ways shes all like '(our shift) told me you were on cafe I'm gonna have to talk to her about that' and i#was like dude im doing cafe but i had to rebrew our drip bc we're out of all of them!!! like listen to me!!!! and shes like im not mad at#blah blah like idgaf if you are im fucking clarifying the situation for you so you can shut the fuck up & let me do what i need to do i#fucking know ppl are waiting on their cafe orders that's literally what im working on if you just got youre fucking head out of your ass#you're pissing me off!!! i already hate working with your ass and you're making it worse#and whenever shed catch a break shed have the audacity to ask if i needed help seeing that i literally had a shit ton of#tickets on my machine like just fucking help me#or at least get some fucking ice or something stop repeatedly asking me & use your eyes#luckily the shift got back eventually & restocked stuff & just as i finally caught up it was my lunch time like......#fuck my stupid baka life as if yesterday afternoon with my whole car issue wasnt enough#also go to hell if you stand at the pick up station breathing down my neck for your order & cont to triple check drinks that are very#obviously not yours if the name is anything to go by!!!!#dl
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touyasdoll · 8 months
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Revered
pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader
word count: 1k
warnings: sex with feelings, alcohol, you've both been drinking, friends to lovers, he comes across a little possessive, dacryphilia if you squint, body worship, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed any ❤️
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“Do your ears work, princess? Can you hear that?” He sneers, breath tickling the crook of your neck before he pushes himself up, biceps flexing beautifully as he looms over you.
He’s undoubtedly referring to the lewd, loud sounds manifesting between the two of you. It's absolutely intoxicating, just like his touch. You're already tipsy, but now you are drunk on what this man is doing to you.
“This is what pussy is supposed to sound like when you’re getting fucked.”
You aren't quite sure how you ended up here. With Katsuki fucking Bakugou of all people plunging his cock in and out of you while you cling to his strong arms for dear life.
You blame it on the alcohol. That's the only excuse you can think of to explain why he drew closer to you on the couch, hands and lips exploring places that your dear friend had never ventured to touch before.
Why the glasses you were sipping out of landed on the coffee tabe and he somehow wound up on top of you, his searing kiss stealing the very air from your lungs. Why your clothes lay discarded and you're now laid bare for him, limbs tangled up as sweat collects on both of your brows as your bodies move in tandem, seeking sweet, sweet pleasure.
"That pathetic excuse of a man you called a boyfriend never made you feel like this, did he?" He asks as he grabs your jaw, his touch still so gentle, even as his tone grows more desperate. "Did he?"
"Never," you reply, breathless and barely able to form the words as you lose yourself in the delirium.
Katsuki was definitely more imposing than the man who'd dumped you. He'd stood you up for the last time and it was Katsuki who'd come to comfort you, joining you in your libations as you drowned your sorrows over a man who was never worth your time to begin with.
"That's what I fucking thought," he says as a handsome smirk spreads across his face.
His expression is almost devious. It's dark and full of salascious promise as his strokes grow longer. Slower. Deeper.
It feels as if he's nearly penetrating your lungs the way that head of his cock drags against your pulsating walls and knocks against your cervix, kissing it with each pass of his hips, never giving you the chance to truly breathe as his body drives into yours with immense purpose. Like he has something to prove.
Because he does.
He's watched and he's waited. Too many men have come along and broken your heart. Used your body and never taken proper care of your heart, but that's over now.
As he peers down at your perfect form, he makes a promise to himself and to you. His hands glide along your body, worshipping every curve and dip. His mouth travels along your neck, your breasts, your jaw before they claim your mouth again.
It's heated, though that could just be the booze. It must be, you tell yourself, but no one has ever kissed you like this before. Like they mean it. Like they need it to survive. Like they need you.
"You are never going to be left wanting again, beautiful. I won't let it happen," he breathes out, his lips moving against yours before they swallow you whole again.
Your tongues tangle and you kiss him back despite how your lungs burn and your body tenses, pulled taut like the strings of an instrument that he has spent years mastering and he's performing a fucking symphony right now. To a crowd that only consists of you.
"You deserve to be pleasured. Treasured. Fucking revered," he growls through grit teeth, picking up the pace with his strokes as his hands works into your hair, cradling you with care like the prize he obviously thinks that you are.
"Katsuki," you gasp, a frantic energy swelling inside of you as the song he's crafting swells to a triumphant crescendo. "I-I'm gonna cum."
"Yes you are. You're going to cum all over my fucking cock. Like you should've been doing all this time. You are mine now. No one elses," he pants, sweat dripping from his face onto your breasts to glide down your torso. "I finally have you and I'm not letting you go. I've got you, gorgeous. Cum for me."
You hear his words, but they're drowned out by the sound of someone screaming. Of you, screaming. Howling with unrestrained need as the dam bursts and you break for him, gushing around his thick cock as it keeps on plunging in and out, nearly driving you mad.
"Katsuki!" You cry, literally, as tears prick your eyes, a warm wetness sliding over your cheeks when your eyes squeeze shut and you cling tighter to him, digging your nails into the fibers of his muscles.
"Fuck," he groans, a guttural noise echoing around your living room as his hot seed spills from him and into you, making the slick mess between your thighs a practical crime sense of passion and pure need.
His hips keep moving, drawing out the sinful noises the both of you trade as your respective highs peak and gradually begin to fade away, leaving you a weak, shaking mess beneath him.
"I love you," he confesses with the last of the oxygen in his lungs, his nose nuzzling against the crook of you neck as he lays his body on top of yours.
It's all encompassing. His presence. His words. His devotion. It feels like a safety blanket, bundling you up in all the things that you were searching for all along when it was right here in front of you the whole time.
"I love you too, Katsuki," you whisper the words you'd left unspoken for far too long against his temple.
He smiles against your skin. He's wrung dry after offering everything up to you, but your words renew him, giving him the strength to push up and ghost his fingertips along your cheek as his crimson eyes bore into your own.
"You will never want again. I'll take care of you from now on," he promises, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he draws you in to another kiss.
This one is slow, sweet, and tender. It's a vow that he will never break.
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analyzing some images (for fun)
so i found this pair of promotion images for good omens season 1 on the good omens reference library server and it’s hooked me so so bad im having feelings about it. we’re analyzing them now. not really for meta purposes just fun to see the parallels and differences :)
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everything under the cut !
unique traits
aziraphale:
1) his plank background. its older, its crisp, it smells like wood from the screen. mmmm
2) the pencil shavings at the bottom. he does a lot of writing honestly, so i like this. also adds a messy and cozy vibe he always seems to have in that shop…. i like that blessed shop fr
3) his SUSHI. little soy sauce drops near it too—just the right amount of deliberate mess. our first formal introduction to aziraphale in the present day and beginning the Tomfoolery just happens to have sushi... i watch that scene and i go “yeah, that sums up aziraphale i suppose” very nicely. (they dont have sushi Up There) (im literally never gonna forget that)
4) the ray of light shining on the scene. tiny thing, but a bit of the heaven is peeking through..it also sort of blurs the whole image but i think thats just me.
5) and we’ve saved the best for last: the big whopper. the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter, witch. I LOVE THAT BOOK!!!!!!! i cant remember if that ring stain was there but if it isnt in the show on the actual book i’d assume thats to add that ‘thy cocoa doth grow cold’ thing. ALSO. you know what’s being used as a bookmark in the pages?? a check for the ritz. he bookmarked their one chance for living . with a ritz check . MMMMMM. my GOD. that means so much to me even if i cant convey it in words. he KEEPS THE CHECKS 😭😭😭😭😭😭
crowley:
1) let me get my favorite out of the way. crowley’s glasses have fire in their reflection. we’ll talk about the glasses themselves later but the REFLECTION IN THEM. fucking FIRE, BOOKSHOP fire, PAIN, SRIVING THROUGH THE M-25, HELL, I DONT KNOWIM HAVING FEELINGS!!! i do believe this is a bookshop fire reference though, the flames feel too Familiar. the lengths people will go to to attack others 🤧
2) the leather seat background!!!!!!! probably meant to look similar to the bentley’s seats but i cant recall their texture, exactly. maybe just meant to convey modernness—unsure. still, its there <3
3) the tiny little crisp plant </3 its trying his damned best to stay perfect. it might a specific plant that means something, but i cant tell at thsi angle, so i’ll assume its a mini version of the ficus he keeps in the flat. its so SMALL and sitting in ANOTHER POT i CANT
4) the snake slithering!! black and red (in this image it looks orange lol) bellied scales!!!! slithering there, chilling, being crowley, showing hints. love it
5) QUEEN RECORD!!!!! TRYING TO OVERRIDE IT WITH TCHAIKOVSKY!!!!!! the tape over it does a reminisence to crowley’s handwriting, but in a clean ‘this made made to be a font’ way. not exactly just yet. ive become a fan of tchaikovsky recently. amazing darling wonderful crowley, trying to push the rock up the hill for eternity 😞
6) HIS LITTLE DEMON KEY THING. HOLDING A TINY LITTLE BENTLEY CAR KEY OHHH. thats how he doesnt lose the tiny key despite probably not needing one of those. and he CHOSE that intentionally probably. little wings and red circle….URGHHHHHHH
similarities
mmmmm now here’s the good shit. similarities! i’ll bullet point most of them but ohhhhh. ohhhh these. i’ll go from top to bottom as best i can….
1) one of their shoes, obviously. crowley has them iconic snakeskin shoes while aziraphale has his old loafers like the old loafer he is /pos
2) chateauneuf de pape wine bottle labels! (crowley’s is under his glasses, aziraphale’s is next to his shoe). oh my fucking god theyre MATCHING. the labels are old, battered, of course labeling the drink’s age, but mmmmm its these tiny details that get me going….
3) their respective drinks in their mugs—crowley’s a black mug coffee (or what looks to be coffee) and aziraphale’s angel mug tea (or what looks to be tea). i think about that mug sometimes. where did he get that from?? mystery for the ages….
4) their glasses, of course. crowley’s iconic sunglasses and aziraphale’s reading spectacles. i cant really tell the reflections in this pair, but if its supposed to be fucking fire, im done with this. im giving up forever
5) their own watches! aziraphale’s is visibily older while crowley’s is visibly modern, but they function just the same. also, crowley’s is set to 2:56:59 (presumably PM), which is around the time we see when crowley starts checking his watch at warlock’s birthday party. its almost time for disaster to strike!! 😃
6) and finally….their ties!! they have their own ties!!! or more accurately, neck accessories, but i digress. i mesn i assume its crowley’s neck tie, because the fabric looks… different. either way, crowley’s neck thingie is very whispy and aziraphale has his funky little bowtie i love so much,,,
okay thats it. there’s no canonical implications, any fantheories, none of the sort. just saw a pair of images and my mind went GOD DAMN!!!!!! theyre very important to me. i need to look at more promo material 😔
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reiding-writing · 2 months
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Okay but cold!Reader being hit on at a bar during a team outing and Spencer over hears her turning the person down only to be called a rude bitch maybe he doesn’t realize he CAN be assertive when he defends her and even she’s like ???? Where’d that come from?
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BACKUP [ONESHOT]
/ˈbækˌʌp/
some men are assholes who only care about their own gratification, and some men are spencer reid.
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WARNINGS: fem!reader, alcohol, ‘nice guy’ character, misogyny, lots of swearing
spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 3.1k || series masterlist!!
a/n: genuinely hated the douchebag dude so much i had to take multiple breaks whilst writing this 😭
main masterlist!!
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The bar was bathed in a warm, golden glow courtesy of the overhead lighting, a faint aroma of aged oak mingled with the rich scent of brewing coffee creating an inviting atmosphere. The air hummed with the gentle murmur of conversation, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses and laughter.
Behind the polished mahogany bar, shelves adorned with an impressive array of spirits gleamed in the dim light, the bartenders weaving amongst each other with practised ease, expertly crafting cocktails and pouring drinks for the patrons seated along the bar stools. “What can I get for ya?”
“I’ll get an espresso martini and a mint mocktail, thanks,” You lean your elbows against the top of the bar, leaning forward on them as the bartender gives you a nod, obviously satisfied with your taste in drinks.
You couldn’t entirely agree with her. Espresso martinis were great, but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that out of every flavour he could’ve possibly chosen, Spencer wanted a mint mocktail. You understood the no alcohol part, that fit Spencer’s personality to a T, but mint? Really?
You didn’t have much time to question Spencer’s taste in drinks as somebody bumps into your side, and you shift over slightly to make room for them at the front of the bar. “Oh, sorry didn’t mean to bump you like that,”
The guy gives you a small smile as an apology, and you wave it off with a small shake of your head. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it,”
“One espresso martini, and one mint mocktail,” The bartender returns with your two drinks in hand, setting them on the bar in front of you with a smile. “That’ll be 32 dollars, cash or card?” Curse Washington DC and their ridiculously extortionate drink prices.
“Cash-” You grab your wallet out of your pocket to pull out the notes needed, only to be stopped by the stranger that’d bumped into you pushing your hands gently into your lap.
“Let me cover it for you,” He holds his hand out towards the bartender, card poised between his index and middle finger.
“No it’s fine-” You’re mildly caught off guard by the stranger’s immediate willingness to pay for your drinks, shaking your head as you try to move his hand away from the bar. He doesn’t listen.
“Take it as an apology for bumping into you,”
“Really it’s fine-” He cuts you off with a small ‘shush’ as he gestures for the bartender to take the card, which she does after a few seconds of prompting.
“…Thank you,” Your thanks feels a little forced from your end, not exactly thrilled at his insistence even if it did just save you 32 dollars that could then be spent on more drinks later. You know it was supposed to be a nice gesture, but the way that he ignored your refusal and then continued to shush you afterwards left a sour taste in your mouth.
“Anything for a pretty lady,” He gives you a small wink as he leans against the bar, turning his attention back towards the bartender before she can leave. “Two full pint craft beers, make it quick sweetheart,”
You and the bartender share a glance at his wording, a silent confirmation that you weren’t the only one getting an off feeling from the guy, and she gives him a small nod and an awkward smile before retreating to make his drinks.
You take that as your sign to leave yourself, but you barely get the glasses off the wood of the bar before you’re stopped. “Why don’t you come back to my table hm? We can get to know each other a little better,”
You turn your head in his direction with your lips pressed into a line and an awkward inflection in your tone. “No thanks,”
“Awe come on, what’s a guy gotta do to get a few minutes alone with someone like you?” he taps his fingers against the table, an overconfident smile on his lips and a quirk in his tone. “You don’t have to play hard to get you know, it’s okay to give in sometimes,”
“I’m gonna pass,” You take a small sip of your martini in the hopes that it’ll break up the awkwardness a bit, but you don’t really have any luck in that department, considering the fact that this guy seemingly cannot take a hint.
“Come on, I paid for your drinks,” He gestures his hand towards the two glasses in front of you.
“I asked you not to pay for my drinks,”
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“Reid, you turning your head every two minutes isn’t going to make her come back any quicker,” Morgan shakes his head with a small smirk at Spencer’s demeanour, seemingly finding Spencer’s attitude hilarious under his lightly alcohol-induced haze.
“It shouldn’t be taking this long, the bar is pretty clear,” Spencer’s tone shows more concern than anything. He knew how some drunk people could act, and even though you weren’t entirely drunk yourself he was a little worried that you’d end up in fist fight with someone if you were left alone for too long in such a confrontal environment. “I’m just worried she might get into an argument with someone,”
“Quite the opposite by the look of it,” JJ leans into Emily’s side to point over at the bar where you were standing, speaking to somebody that none of them recognised.
“Aye, Ice Queen’s got game huh?” Morgan took a swig from his bottle with a laugh as he followed JJ’s finger towards you.
“Are we really surprised?” Emily clinks her bottle against Morgan like the two are celebrating the fact that you’ve seemingly got ‘game’ underneath your icy exterior. “She’s a total dominatrix,”
Garcia seems to find Emily’s statement particularly hilarious, actively hitting her hand against Morgan’s bicep with an enthusiastic nod of her head. “Oh 100%,”
Spencer doesn’t share the same enthusiasm towards your presumed sex life, not just because it made him feel icky to talk about something like that behind your back but also because from his point of view you weren’t having a good time.
You were stood straight up with your arms crossed over your chest in a behaviourally defensive manner, and although he couldn’t see your facial expression with how you had your back to the group, the way you stretched your neck only further illustrated that you weren’t enjoying whatever interaction you were having with the man opposite you, no matter how much he seemed to be.
Maybe it was the alcohol blinding the others to your behavioural tells. Maybe he’d just become accustomed to the smaller things when it came to reading you. Either way, you looked like you wanted out of the situation you were in.
He wondered why you hadn’t just walked away yet. You were usually good at establishing your boundaries and putting your foot down when you needed to, so the fact that you were still entertaining a conversation that you clearly didn’t want to be taking part in was more than a little odd to him.
Then a glass shattered on the floor between the two of you, and it was definitely time for somebody to break the conversation.
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“Come on don’t be like that, you might have more fun than you realise,” He didn’t even acknowledge the bartender carrying over the two beers as she set them down on the bar with a sympathetic look in your direction, absently holding out his card in her direction as he kept his gaze on you.
“I told you that I’m not interested.” Your tone harbours more assertiveness this time. You weren’t known for having the longest string of patience, and under the effects of the alcohol in your system that string was halting by the minute.
You’re tired of being nice and hoping he will go away, you were going to end this conversation now.
“Don’t get pissy with me now, I’m being nice here,”
“You need to leave before you see what ‘being pissy’ actually looks like.”
“Are you threatening me?” The guy looks like he’s about to blow a fuse at your response, seemingly dumbfounded at the way you’re standing up for yourself, which makes you feel inherently bad for any woman who has had to endure his self-entitlement in the past.
“I’m telling you to back off. I said no.”
You take Spencer’s drink from the bar top and turn to leave, but incessant as he is, the guy tries to catch your arm so you can’t, causing the drink to spill everywhere and the cocktail glass to smash all over the floor.
“Look what you’ve done now you stupid bitch,” If the sound of the glass smashing didn’t garner an audience from the patrons nearby, the way he raised his voice definitely did.
You turn your gaze from your soaked shoes to him through furrowed eyebrows, opening your mouth to begin your retaliation. Someone else beats you to it.
“That’s a horrible way to speak to somebody,” You knew that voice. Of course you did, he sits opposite you in the office every day rambling about star trek to anyone who so much as glances in his direction.
“Excuse me?” The guy turns his attention towards Spencer with just as much seething in his features.
“You shouldn’t speak to people like that,”
“Reid.” You grit his name out through your teeth as warning for him to not get involved, but he doesn’t listen to you.
“I can speak to whoever I want however I want, get lost you freak.” He takes a step towards Spencer, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt at looking more dominating.
“Have you ever heard of the Napoleon Complex?” Spencer looked down at the man with a raised eyebrow. “Studies have shown that men with shorter statures tend to be more aggressive and domineering in social situations to compensate for their lack of height,”
You raise your eyebrows in mild surprise at Spencer’s statement, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling at the look on the guys face at the accusation.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” He takes another step forward, almost chest to chest with Spencer by now, although not exactly on equal ground considering that Spencer was at least a head taller than him.
“Common behaviours include loud, ostentatious, and aggressive attitudes, overly grandiose ambitions, and an attempt to be domineering when in the presence of other people, to assert your height advantage over those shorter than you and prove that your height disadvantage is irrelevant to those taller than you,” Spencer continues to state the details of the Napoleon Complex with no acknowledgement of the rising anger of the man in front of him, but you can see the beginnings of nerves in the way he wrings his fingers together behind his back.
Either way, Spencer was absolutely ripping this man to shreds in the most Spencer Reid way possible, and you found yourself not wanting to break this sudden streak of assertiveness he’d garnered, especially considering it had spawned under wanting to support you.
It was a surprising sight to be sure, but you wouldn’t say it was unwelcome.
You were glad that Spencer had an assertive side to him, it meant that he was capable of looking after himself (or you in this case) without the need for external backup. It was also nice to see that he didn’t lose the key aspects of himself in the process. He was still very much Spencer Reid, but he was using the aspect of himself that would usually be the subject of negative comments as the main form of his defence.
It was a perfectly Spencer move.
“You wanna see aggression? Because I will show you goddamn aggression,” The guy huffed in his seething contempt for Spencer’s attitude, rolling up his sleeves.
“Bar fighting is highly illegal, and you could receive a prison sentence of up to 3 years and 6 months for instigating one,” Spencer takes a small step backwards as an offer for the two to just drop the argument and move on, glass crackling underneath the soles of his converse.
“You think I care?” The tension in the air was palpable as the man clenched his fists, his face contorted in anger whilst Spencer remained surprisingly calm, his stance firm yet non-threatening.
He didn’t have time to actually start anything as the bartender from earlier returns, a bouncer stood to her left with a very unamused expression on his face.
"I think it's time for you to leave," She said in a no-nonsense tone.
The man's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected intervention. "You can't kick me out! I didn't do anything wrong!" he protested, his voice growing louder.
"You harassed another patron and broke a glass. That's reason enough," the bouncer retorted, his gaze unwavering as he uncrossed his arms. He wasn’t like Spencer. He wasn’t thin or unfit, he was built, arms barely able to rest properly at his sides from the muscle mass in his biceps.
Not to mention that he was even taller than Spencer was, and no amount of Napoleon’s Complex could convince someone that they’d be able to physically take on somebody like that.
Realising he was outnumbered and outmatched, the man reluctantly turned and stormed out of the bar, muttering curses under his breath.
With the tension diffused, Spencer turned to you, a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay?" He asked, his voice soft.
“I’m fine Reid,” You nodded gratefully, “Thank you,”
“Of course, I’m glad you’re okay,” He half-awkwardly rubs his hand over his arm, all semblance of his previous confidence slowly dwindling until he’s back into the shyly-endearing nerd that you’re used to seeing him as.
“I would say sorry about the drink, but you had it coming choosing mint as the primary flavour,” You look down to the remnants of the glass on the floor and the drink that was soaking your shoes.
“Mint has been shown to positively affect brain functioning,” Spencer holds his hand out to catch your elbow to stop you from stumbling as you walk over the shattered glass.
“Doesn’t mean it tastes good,” You don’t shrug off the small contact like you usually would, Spencer presumes it’s just the alcohol in your system dulling your awareness. It’s definitely not because because having a soothing presence after an altercation like that was comforting. Definitely.
Spencer gives you a small smile once you’re out of the shatter-zone before turning to the bartender. "I'm sorry about the mess. Let me help clean it up,"
The bartender shook her head, a grateful expression on her face at the offer. "Don’t worry about it, happens more often than you’d think,"
“You’re sure?”
The bartender gives another simple nod as she retreats behind the bar, presumable to grab a dust pan to clean up the mess. “Give me a second and i’ll make up another drink for you guys,”
“Oh you don’t have to-”
“Don’t be silly,” The bartender waves him off with a small laugh. “It’ll only take a minute,”
“Thank you,” Spencer shoots the bartender a grateful smile before turning his attention back towards you. “You’re sure you’re alright? You didn’t cut yourself on the glass?”
“I’m fine Reid don’t worry about it,” You check yourself over despite the confidence in your words just to make sure that you weren’t actually hurt and just couldn’t feel it.
“So, Napoleon Complex huh?” You raise your eyebrow at him, suppressing a smile as you recall the way Spencer had hit the nail on the head assuming that the reason the dick from earlier was so aggressive was because of a height insecurity.
He gives you a small nod with that awkwardly endearing expression of his as his eyes also scan down by your ankles for any scratches you may have garnered from the glass. “It’s more common in men than you might think,”
“Napoleon was definitely a piece of shit that’s for sure, a fucking short one at that” Spencer laughs shortly at the crudeness of your assessment, although still agrees with you anyhow.
“Napoleon wasn’t actually as short as most people think he was, the translation of his official records misconstrued his height because french inches were actually longer than american inches and…” You weren’t going to remember any of what he’s telling you in the morning, but that didn’t matter right now.
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vikkirosko · 4 months
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The last story was amazing, hope you can get this one in before the holdidays, and have a nice vacation. And just a great next few months on top of that! But I was wondering ( sorry this may be long ) if you could do a headcanon of alastor, lucifer, Angel Dust, lucifer, fizz + Ozzie, and Rosie? ( sorry if that's to many characters there all just great characters ) x a reader who has CIP ( the inablility ) to feel pain? Thank you! Also how have you been?
I'm all good. I haven't had much free time lately, so I'm a little behind schedule on writing requests, but I still don't lose hope that I'll be able to finish everything before the end of the year. And how are you doing?
Headcanons CIP
🕷 Angel Dust x Reader 💖
You and Angel have known each other for a long time. You knew that he often got into various scuffles and always reminded him to be careful. One of the times you knew for sure that he was going to get into trouble, you went with him. You were right and helped him cope and not get hurt, but there was something that caused him concern. You were hit by several bullets, but you didn't seem to pay any attention to it at all
Only when you noticed the blood on your clothes did you say with irritation that you had ruined your favorite sweater. Angel jumped up to you, worried about your wounds, but you didn't seem to feel the pain, which you soon informed him about. That's why Angel took you back to the hotel, where he treated your wounds. You told him that you had a CIP. You haven't felt pain since you were born, even when you were human, and even in Hell, the absence of pain has remained with you
Angel was surprised that for so long he didn't know that you don't feel pain at all. You had to pay attention to little things so as not to harm yourself, for example, be careful about hot dishes, because you might not notice how hot the soup could be or how hot the cup of coffee was. Angel listened attentively to you, surprised that he didn't notice it
Angel has become more attentive towards you. He didn't constantly take care of you, but sometimes he reminded you that the food or drink was hot, that you held the knife too close to your fingers, or that you were injured. Angel understood that even if you didn't feel pain, it didn't mean that the wounds didn't hurt you, which is why he tried to take care of you at least a little
📻 Alastor x Reader🎙
Alastor found out that you don't feel pain when he noticed that you returned to the hotel with an injured leg. You weren't even limping. You just went to your room like everything was completely normal. He didn't know any other reason for this. He went to your room with a first-aid kit and you did not hide from him either your own wound or the fact that you really did not feel pain
Alastor stayed in your room while you treated the wound on your leg. You told him that even when you were human, you didn't feel pain. You assumed that at least in Hell this would change, but it turned out not to be so. Because of this, you didn't notice the wounds you could get until you noticed the blood on your clothes
The origin of the scars on your skin was now clear. He understood that you probably got these scars in Hell. On your palms, hands, and obviously not only there. You really weren't very worried about your own health, and the lack of pain only made it harder for you to take care of yourself
Alastor understood that in Hell there was much less harm from this for you. Dying in Hell was much more difficult for a sinner than when you were alive, so Alastor didn't worry too much about you. He knew you'd be fine, but he still left a first-aid kit in your room in case you needed it
💀Rosie x Reader 🌹
You were a frequent guest at Rosie's and helped her with some problems at her store. You often stayed at her house for weeks at a time, but Rosie was only too happy to spend time with you. Sometimes you came in with wounds after fights, but Rosie was sure they weren't that serious, so you didn't pay attention to it. However, when you came in seriously injured but behaved as if everything was fine, she became worried
Rosie insistently asked you to sit down and brought a first aid kit. She was in no hurry to ask questions or jump to conclusions, primarily focusing on your wounds. You didn't make a sound when she was treating your wounds, which gave Rosie certain thoughts
You honestly told her that you didn't feel pain at all. Even before your death, you had CIP and you learned to live with it, but in Hell you became more relaxed and took much less care of your own health, which led to your injury. Rosie listened to you carefully, then gently stroked your hair and asked you to be careful
Rosie didn't want you to try. She knew that you tried to be more attentive to yourself and tried to avoid new wounds. You didn't want to upset Rosie and make her worry, which is why you tried not to put yourself in danger, not even realizing that Rosie was ready to show those who would harm you why she was overlord
🍎 Lucifer Morningstar x Reader 🐍
Lucifer knew perfectly well that you didn't feel pain. You've known each other for a long time and he often saw you after fights. You didn't pay attention to the wounds, just talked irritably about stained or torn clothes. You both knew that the lack of feeling pain had its own characteristics, so you made sure that the wounds were treated, and Lucifer made sure that no one dared to hurt you
Lucifer was much stronger than you, and when you were together, no one dared even try to look at you askance, but sometimes you got involved in fights, especially when it was the end of the year. You didn't want to hide, even though you knew you could have died. Every time Lucifer found out that you were fighting again, he watched, taking his time to intervene. It was only when he saw that you were seriously injured that he intervened
Lucifer sometimes offered to pick up personal guards for you, but you kept telling him that it wasn't necessary. Just because you didn't feel pain didn't mean you were reckless. You tried not to put yourself in excessive danger, realizing that even in Hell you could die
You didn't know how long you would be in Hell and whether it was possible to leave Hell at all, but while you were there you weren't going to let yourself die again, especially because you didn't notice any wound and Lucifer didn't mind helping you with it
🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader x Asmodeus 💕
In your relationship, Asmodeus has always tried to take care of Fizzarolli and you. He had sincere feelings for both of you, and you responded in kind, but if Fizzarolli really tried to be careful, then you got into trouble more often. They both saw the wounds healing on you, but you always said it was just a small accident and they had nothing to worry about. This went on until you returned with bloodstains on your clothes and serious wounds that you didn't pay attention to
They immediately rushed to you, both very worried. You convinced them that you were fine, but this time it was obviously not the case. Asmodeus treated your wounds, after which he seriously asked who did it. To his question, you smiled gently and said that they were much worse off than you, so you shouldn't have worried about it. However, there was something that did not escape their eyes. It's like you didn't feel the touch of your wounds
When Fizzarolli asked you if you were in pain, you were confused and said that you didn't feel any pain at all. You've had CIP and you've never felt pain in your entire life. There used to be problems because of this, but now you have learned to avoid serious problems, at least you tried
Asmodeus and Fizzarolli weren't going to leave you alone until your wounds were completely healed. They both surrounded you with care, worrying about you, to which you laughed softly and hugged them. Even in Hell, you were able to find those who gave you the warmth that warmed your heart and soul
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pa-pa-plasma · 1 year
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yes, Musk fanboys are now arguing that a cup of coffee only lasts 30 minutes & that coffee really does cost $8 a cup
0 notes
ellemj · 4 months
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Letters to Santa, Part 2: 12 Days of Smut #11
Bucky Barnes x Reader 2-Part Fic
Request/prompt courtesy of @stuckysbike. Read part 1 here.
Warnings: profanity, dirty talk, teasing, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N: There is a scene in this that was wholly inspired by one of @littlemiss-yeehaw's latest smutty sketches, check out her blog and comment on the sketch that you think I used! This is a continuation of the request submitted by @stuckysbike, thank you again for submitting it and trusting me to give it a go! I've decided that day 12 will simply be the gift that comes tomorrow (today technically, in less than 24 hours): Needs & Wants Bonus Chapter.
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            You can’t deny that you look a little bit like a Christmas gift all wrapped up in your short little burgundy bathrobe. You’ve just finished showering and doing your skincare, and you’re flipping off the bathroom light switch when you hear the softest knock at your door. You stand still for a moment, wondering if you actually heard what you think you heard. The only person who ever comes to your door is one of the girls, and even then, they never knock, they simply let themselves in. You hear the knocking sound a second time and your feet begin carrying you away from the bathroom, across your room, and straight to the door. When you pull it open, Bucky stands before you, looking like he has a million things to say but very few words to utilize.
            “Bucky?” You say his name like you aren’t even sure it’s him, but obviously it is. His eyes are quick to coast down your figure, taking in the sight of you in that little burgundy robe with the tie around your waist fashioned into a bow. You look like a fucking gift. Someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. The first wish from the list in your dirty letter to Santa flashes through Bucky’s mind as he memorizes every detail about the way you look right now.
            “How much did you have to drink tonight?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at you as he finally focuses his gaze on your face. You scrunch up your cheeks and nose in annoyance. You can’t believe he’d have the audacity to knock on your door and ask you something like that.
            “Why the hell are you here asking me that?”
            “Because if you had a lot to drink, then your letter to Santa ending up underneath my bedroom door might’ve just been a momentary lapse in judgement. But if you didn’t then…” Bucky lets his voice trail off as he studies your expression, looking for any answer to the countless questions he has swirling around in his head.
            “My letter? Under your door?” You ask incredulously. You immediately begin backtracking in your mind, remembering how you started cleaning up the kitchen and totally forgot about the letter you left sitting on the coffee table. One of the girls or Sam must’ve grabbed it and slid it under Bucky’s door as some stupid prank. Your face falls as you realize he very well could’ve opened it and read it. “Wait, you didn’t…” When your shocked eyes look into Bucky’s, he almost wishes he hadn’t read it.
            “So, you didn’t slide it under my door.” Bucky confirms. Why is there a hint of disappointment in his tone? Are you imagining it? Was he hoping that you had? Wait, why the fuck did he decide to knock on your door? Just to ask how much you had to drink and to find out if you gave him the letter yourself? What would he have done if it really had been you? By the time you pull yourself out of your whirlwind of thoughts, you see Bucky giving you one last look before turning on his heel to head back to his own room. All inhibitions flee as you start moving without thinking. There isn’t one thought left in your mind when you reach out and grab Bucky by the arm, stopping him in his tracks. He tenses up as soon as your hand meets the fabric of the sweatshirt that’s covering his flesh bicep, but he doesn’t pull away from you. Instead, he turns back to face you as your hand falls away from him.
            “You read it.” You say softly, not quite sure where your mouth is about to take this unexpected conversation. Bucky nods, his eyes scanning yours for any sort of reaction. “It was a joke letter, just a stupid game Nat wanted us to play.” Bucky nods again, maintaining eye contact with you as you fiddle with the bow at the front of your robe.
            “Right, I can’t imagine you’d actually want someone to cum down your chimney.” Your words written on a piece of paper were dirty, but somehow hearing them leave Bucky’s mouth makes them absolutely filthy. You can feel the blush creeping into your cheeks, turning them a soft shade of pink, as you stare up at the man with your lips slightly parted in surprise. A small smirk tugs on the corners of his lips. You don’t quite like how he’s enjoying your surprised reaction, so you decide to try and get a similar reaction out of him, just so you’ll be even.
            “Why not? It was on my list, wasn’t it? I also asked for three orgasms in one night, if I remember correctly.” Now Bucky’s the one with the parted lips and a raised eyebrow. He probably would’ve even blushed if all of the blood in his body hadn’t rushed straight to his cock. “What was the other thing I asked for?” You can’t remember what else you’d written in the letter, but now you’re sure that Bucky does. Bucky stares at you for a moment, taking in your pink cheeks, your playful gaze, and the way your arms are currently crossed over your chest as you toy with him. He decides to take the leap.
            Bucky slowly reaches out with his flesh hand, giving you every opportunity to either swat his hand away or step back and close the door on him, but you don’t. You follow his movement with your eyes, watching as his fingertips first brush over the fabric around the neck of your robe, and then begin to trail down the front of it lightly until he reaches the bow. He grabs one of the ends of the tie, his eyes flitting up to yours before he makes another move. You don’t say a word. You don’t move a muscle. You’re actually holding your breath. So, Bucky continues. He tugs on the end of the tie with just enough force to unravel the bow and loosen your bathrobe right there in the doorway of your bedroom. You’re still fully covered, but one move and the front of it may fall open and reveal your naked body to the man in front of you. Bucky reaches out with both hands now, as he takes one step forward, limiting the space between the two of you to just a few inches. He wraps his fingers around each side of the opening of your robe, holding them in place so nothing is bared to him, but wanting nothing more than to throw it open. His actions suddenly remind you of the forgotten wish on your list: someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. Realization spreads across your face and Bucky gives you a soft smile as your eyes meet his.
            “Is this what you asked for?” He questions, rubbing his thumbs over where he holds the fabric of the robe in between his fingertips. You swallow hard and nod slowly. “I know you can use your words, just like you did in the letter.”
Fuck.
“This is one thing.” You answer softly. Bucky could stop here. He could let go of your robe and let you shut the door on him. But the way you’re looking up at him, letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you patiently wait for his next move, it makes it impossible for him to stop after only fulfilling one of your wishes. Besides, he hasn’t even fully unwrapped you. It wouldn’t be fair to you if he stopped now.
So, Bucky lets his instincts take over, throwing his rational mind out the window. He looks into your eyes one last time, and you can tell from the lilt in his brow and the serious expression painted on his face that he’s making sure he has your permission. The slight nod that you give him is all he needs. In one swift movement, he’s pulling you against his chest by the front of your robe. When you practically crash against him, he lets his vibranium hand rise to cup the side of your face. His eyes are the most mesmerizing blue, making it simultaneously hard to look into them yet hard to look away. Bucky can’t stop himself from placing his cool, vibranium thumb over your lips, and then dragging it down until it just barely sits between your parted lips. He wants to see how you’ll respond to his touch.
When you part your lips a little more, Bucky knows he’s done for. He won’t be going back to his room at all tonight, he fears. He watches you so closely as his thumb slides past your lips, slipping into your mouth and rubbing over the surface of your tongue as you wrap your lips around it and suck. Fuck. He wishes he’d done it with his flesh hand so he could feel your mouth. Or maybe it’s best that he used the vibranium hand, because if he felt what his vibranium thumb is experiencing right now, he might’ve ended up wanting you to suck him off, and he doesn’t remember seeing that on your Christmas list.
You let Bucky pull his finger out of your mouth with a soft pop of your lips, watching as lust floods into his gaze. In this exact moment, you just want to thank whoever it was that slipped your letter under his door. You have a feeling they did you the biggest favor.
Just a second after Bucky has removed his thumb from your mouth, you’re turning on your heel and heading back into your bedroom, trusting that he’ll follow you without a word. You hear the door click and then the sound of the lock turning just as you reach the foot of your bed. You’re just about to ask Bucky to finish unwrapping you when he’s suddenly right behind you, letting his hands slide over your hips to pull you against him as he leans down and presses his lips to the side of your neck. His mouth is so distracting that you don’t even notice what he’s doing until your robe begins falling off of your shoulders, coming to pool at your feet on the floor. In Bucky’s head, he’s mentally crossing off the first thing on your list.
“You’ll sit on my face.” Bucky says boldly, moving around you and climbing onto your bed like he’s done it a thousand times before. He positions himself on his back, with his head resting flat on your pillow, and his eyes flitting over to get a look at you. The way his gaze trails all over every inch of your naked body lights a fire inside of you, that you think may only be extinguished by riding an orgasm out on his face. So, you don’t question him or second-guess yourself. You do exactly as he wants, carefully positioning yourself to straddle his face. He was planning to take it slow, figure out what you like and what you don’t like, drag you up the hill to your first orgasm slowly. But as soon as he saw your glistening cunt, hovering mere inches above his face, he couldn’t keep himself from gripping your thighs and pulling you down hard. His tongue made contact with your entrance first, and he dove into it with a fiery passion, first dragging his tongue around it in circles, teasing you effortlessly. When you felt the first dip of his tongue inside you, your hands flew to the wooden headboard, holding onto it so tightly that you worried it might splinter.
“Bucky, oh my god.” You moan, letting your right hand float down to tangle in his hair as he licks a line from your entrance, through your folds, and straight to your clit. When he finally starts licking and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves there, you know you won’t last long like this. Moans and whimpers start falling from your lips freely, spurring Bucky on and encouraging him to hold you in place as he works you closer and closer to the edge. “I’m going to cum.”
Bucky almost laughs against your clit, but he controls himself and continues sucking and swirling his tongue right where you need it most. He almost laughed because of how fucking easy it was to get you on the verge of cumming for him. He knew he was good at this, but he didn’t know you’d be so ready and willing for him to please you. When you go tumbling over the edge, waves of pleasure rock through you so hard that you nearly put all of your weight on Bucky’s face. Truthfully, he would’ve welcomed it, but he also has other plans that he wants to carry out.
As you hover above Bucky, catching your breath and trying to calm your trembling thighs, Bucky places a soft kiss against your clit before sliding his hands up to your waist and helping you move to lay on your back next to him.
“That was number one.” He whispers, crawling over you and pressing his lips against your jawline. He lets the tip of his tongue slide over your cheek teasingly, and when he nears your lips, you can nearly taste yourself on him. He uses his knee to nudge your legs apart while continuing his ministrations along your jaw and neck, drawing soft exhales from you with ease.
“Let me catch my breath first.” You laugh lightly. Bucky’s fingers are already diving between your legs, gently slipping back and forth over your folds as he gathers your wetness and spreads it around.
“That wasn’t something you put on the list, catching your breath after any of the three orgasms.” Bucky points out, focusing the pads of his middle and ring fingers over your already overly-sensitive clit and applying a light pressure. “I think you can handle this.” He coos. Fuck. Your back is already arching, causing your tits to press against his still-clothed chest. You start to wonder why the hell he still has his clothes on, but your train of thought is immediately derailed when you feel his middle finger slip inside of you without a warning. It’s been so long since anyone has done this to you, and even since you’ve taken the time to do it to yourself, so the stretch that you feel gives you a stinging pain that causes you to draw in a sharp breath and tighten around his fingertip. “Oh, you’re so fucking tight. How are you going to be able to take my cock, huh baby?” You aren’t sure what gets the loudest moan out of you, his finger plunging into you as far as he can send it or his words. He plans to fuck you.
“I’ll take it.” You promise, not even thinking about what you’re promising. Bucky chuckles lowly before pulling his finger out of you and shoving it back in, beginning to fuck you with it over and over again.
“You’ll take it.” Bucky agrees, adding a second finger as he looks down into your eyes and watches the way your teeth once again sink into your bottom lip. “You’ll take it if you want that last thing on your list.”
Bucky Barnes promising to cum inside of you is the very last thing you expected to get for Christmas. It’s only a couple of minutes later when he’s thrusting his two fingers in and out of you in such a coordinated manner that you’re seconds from another orgasm. Bucky curling his fingers inside of you is what sends you careening over the edge, your second orgasm crashing in so hard that you reach down and grasp Bucky’s hand, holding it still as you roll your hips, riding your high out on his fingers yourself. He’s in awe of you. He’s in awe of every little movement, every little sound, everything you do as you cum for him.
“That’s number two.” Bucky whispers against your neck, pressing a soft kiss to your smooth skin as you finally release his hand and let him slide his fingers out of you. As soon as your breathing begins to slow back to a normal rate, Bucky is pushing himself off of the bed and pulling his sweatshirt over his head. You prop yourself up on your elbows, taking in the curve of his shoulders, the soft scars where vibranium meets skin, and the heaving of his chest. When he pushes off his sweats and boxers, letting his cock spring free from its confines and finally stand fully on display for you, your mouth falls open. “Remember, you said you’d take it.” Bucky reminds you, wrapping his hand around the impressive length and stroking it slowly as he crawls back over you on the bed. “Turn over.”
Once he has you laying on your stomach, he leans down over you, letting his warm chest press against your bare back. You feel his hard cock resting against your ass as he inhales the sweet scent of your shampoo, closing his eyes and wondering to himself if you’ve always smelled this damn good. The next few seconds are both a blur and seemingly happening in slow motion as Bucky guides you to slide your knees underneath you and raise your ass up for him. Feeling the head of his cock brush against your entrance has you seeing stars, not even from pleasure, but from anticipation and pure adrenaline coursing through your veins.
“Bucky, please.” You moan, pushing your ass against his length, begging for him to fuck you already. He chuckles lowly once again but obliges, rubbing the tip of his cock back and forth through the wetness coating your folds a few more times before finally slotting his cock into you. You feel every inch as it disappears inside you. You feel it move in the slightest every time Bucky so much as takes a breath. He buries himself to the hilt and then stills, his breath fanning across your neck as you bury your face in your pillow. The grunt that rumbles past his lips sends a rush of heat through your body, traveling straight to your cunt, which then flutters around his shaft.
“Oh, fuck, baby.” He groans out, squeezing his eyes shut and dragging his cock out of you slowly. When he thrusts it back in a second later, he can’t bear to stop again. He starts fucking you so hard that you can’t do a damn thing besides moaning out his name and gripping the bedsheets with both hands. It’s a sight Bucky vows never to forget. “This is what you wanted for Christmas, huh? Is this what you wanted?”
“Yes! God, yes, Bucky.” He loves the way you sound when you’re at his mercy like this. He picks up the pace of the snapping of his hips, watching as your knuckles turn nearly as white as the sheets he’s fucking you on.
“That’s it, take my fucking cock just like that.” Never in your wildest dreams could you have conjured up with a dirty talking Bucky Barnes. He’s filthy. He continues thrusting into you, over and over, relishing in the feeling of your pussy pulling him back in every time he tries to pull out. “You’re going to let me cum inside of you, aren’t you? That’s what you want for Christmas.”
“Yes, please. Fuck, don’t pull out.”
“Good girl, that’s it baby.”  Just a few more thrusts from Bucky have you fighting to hold back your orgasm, and he can tell. “Don’t fucking keep it from me, let it go.” He demands, gripping your hips and pounding you into the mattress. Your third orgasm of the night begins with his cock fully seated inside of you. He fucks you through it, chasing his own high as he listens to the dirtiest sounds fall from your parted lips. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” He says the words only half a second before he starts filling you up, fucking his cum in as deep as he possibly can.
A couple of minutes later, Bucky is still laying on top of you, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder and neck as you enjoy the warmth and closeness he offers.
“That was number three.” He whispers, letting his lips ghost over your skin.
“Thank you, Santa.”
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hazbinwhoree · 3 months
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Adam and Lute with a very powerful overlord reader who is doing multiple jobs at once and is obviously tired and overworked, and is just like, "I'm done, I'm too tired to deal with your bullshit." She kinda has the same personality as Aizawa from mha (Reader may or may not have an addiction to coffee, tea, and energy drinks. I can see them meeting when Charlie drags her to her meeting with adam and Lute. Charlie:(y/n)? When was the last time you slept? (Y/N): What the fuck is sleep? *drinks 10 gallons of coffee in one sitting*)
An Angel & An Overlord
A/N: I had fun writing this and hope it’s what you wanted! I don’t know who Aizawa is so I did my best based on context clues. Disclaimer, there will not be a part 2, I’m drowning in requests.
Adam was already bored of this meeting with Lucifer and Lilith’s daughter. She and her associates were pleading their case to let sinners go to Heaven (ha!) while he chowed down on some ribs. Then the door swung open.
A demon came stumbling in, an energy drink in each hand, looking disheveled and tired. But fuck, she was hot.
“(Name)!” Charlie exclaimed. “Thank you for coming! I know you’re busy.” Adam and (Name) had made prolonged eye contact. “What? Oh, yeah, no problem, Char.” She tore her eyes away, looking at the ribs he was eating. “Fuck those look good. Now I’m hungry.”
“And who’s this hottie?” Adam smirked, slumping back in his seat. The demon rolled her eyes, slamming one of her drinks on the table. “She said my name already, asshole. And put some respect on it, I’m highly ranked down here.”
“Whatever you say, tits.”
She hissed at him. Adam felt a small thrill at the action.
��Eat shit.”
“Um, (Name), maybe don’t fight with Adam, we need him to approve the plan-” “I’m not going to approve the plan,” Adam laughed. “Sinners? In Heaven? As if.”
(Name) sighed, patting Charlie’s back. “Looks like my services are pointless.” She made to leave, but Adam stopped her. “Well wait, what was your role in this little presentation?” He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want her leaving yet. “I have statistics from asking sinners if they would take the Hazbin Hotel seriously if Heaven approved it.”
Adam pretended to think on that. “Interesting, but Heaven will never approve.”
She flipped him off.
“Right back at you, bitch.”
Despite the annoyed face he put on, Adam liked this demon much more than the sunshine and rainbows princess. She spoke his language.
(Name) pounded back the energy drink she was still holding while the room watched on, Charlie and Vaggie looking vaguely concerned. “(Name), did you sleep last night?” “Who needs sleep?” The overlord crushed the drink can. “Aight, I’m out.” She saluted the room and left.
(Name) woke up the next morning to an invitation outside her door. To her shock, it was from Adam. He requested they meet, listing coordinates and a time for when he would open a portal to Heaven. Curious, (Name) decided to go.
At the time allotted, she stood at the spot, nursing a coffee. A portal opened in front of her, and apprehensively, (Name) stepped through it. “You actually came.” Adam looked surprised to see her. “Curiosity killed the cat,” (Name) replied. Adam smirked. “Well welcome to Heaven, hottie.”
They were stood outside what looked like an apartment building. Adam turned to enter it. “Coming, sugar tits?” “Don’t call me that.” Still, she followed him. They rode an elevator up to the very top of the building, and the doors opened to reveal a penthouse.
“Is this where you live?” (Name) asked, stepping out and beginning to look around. “Yeah.”
Adam was unusually quiet, watching (Name) anxiously. “I made more ribs,” he spoke up. “If you want some.” He sounded unsure of himself. (Name) almost found it endearing. “Sure.” She followed Adam into the kitchen and sat down at the table, and Adam placed a plate of ribs in front of her.
(Name) wanted to ask what this was about, but she had forgotten to eat yesterday, and hadn’t had time to eat today, so she was absolutely ravenous. She dug into the ribs with vigor, ignoring Adam’s eyes on her. He took a seat across from her at the table, picking at his own plate of ribs.
“Damn, girlie, you can really put it away. One would think you’re starving. When’s the last time you ate?” “Mm, don’t remember,” (Name) answered through a full mouth. “You really don’t give a shit about yourself.” (Name) frowned. “I do, I’m just… I’m so busy. Overlord duties and shit, y’know?”
“I don’t, actually,” Adam replied as (Name) polished off the last of the ribs. He took two off his plate and put them on hers. “Tell me about it.”
(Name) realized, suddenly, that this felt a lot like a date. But these ribs were really good and Adam was being strangely sweet (he wasn’t bad looking either), so (Name) didn’t say anything about it.
“Well the other overlords have been holding a lot more meetings recently because Carmilla and Velvette are fighting, not that those names mean anything to you.” “What are they fighting about?” “I can’t disclose that.” To her surprise, Adam didn’t push. She continued.
“On top of that, I’ve got all these new contracts, I definitely took on too many deals recently, but the more souls I own, the more powerful I am.”
“I can respect that. I guess Lute isn’t the only Danger Tits I know.”
(Name) rolled her eyes. “Stop talking about tits.” “Aw, but yours are so nice, babe.” (Name) found herself actually flustered by the comment, but didn’t let it show on her face.
Her tail swished, giving away the fact she was flustered, but luckily Adam didn’t know her well enough yet to realize her tell. (Name) noticed vaguely that she’d thought yet.
Like she was going to let Adam get to know her better. Although, she supposed she already was.
They talked for a while longer, discussing (Name)’s life in Hell as an overlord, and occasionally things about Adam. But she noted he let her do most of the talking. When the conversation came to a natural conclusion, (Name) realized she’d been there for almost two hours.
“Fuck, I have to go,” she said, and Adam stood. Wordlessly, he made a portal in the middle of his living room. Before (Name) stepped through it, he spoke. “Maybe we can do this again?”
(Name) smiled to herself.
“Yeah. Maybe we can.”
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spacedace · 1 year
Text
It was the final hour. Doomsday at their door, with only hours left before the world was consumed entirely and every last living thing was devoured right along with it.
Summoning the High King of the Infinite Realms was the only option left, and even then felt more like choosing a firing squad rather than a noose at the end of the day. Pariah Dark might - might - accept the task of destroying the foe they faced, but tmit would come at a cost that was near equal to doing nothing at all. Provided the tyrannical ruler simply didn't let them all die, an entire planet dead was an entire planet to add to his endless armies.
They had to try. Stupid and suicidal as it was.
Zantanna and John worked in silence as they created the summoning circle, hands shaking and stomachs cramping as they worked under the apprehensive eyes of the rest of the League. They all understood that no matter what happened, they would all likely end up dead by the end of it. That the best case scenario meant that death was only the beginning of their problems.
Candles were lit. Insense burned. Blood spilled. Words spoken.
Nothing.
Nothing.
It failed, not so much as a flicker of magic. Which was impossible, they'd checked and confirmed a dozen times that they had the right ritual, that they were following the steps, they had done everything right way wasn't it working? What had they done wr-
"Ugh, gross is that blood?"
Elle Phantom, fifteen minuted late to the site of the ritual with both the boys Super, the most murderous Robin and a sugary abomination of an iced coffee from Starbucks, scrunched her nose in disgust as she looked at the summoning circle.
"This ritual is so out of date, where did you even find it? Wait is that Latin? Who tries to summon someone from the Ghost Zone in Latin?"
John had burned through every drop of alcohol and cigarette he owned hours ago while trying to find this bloody damn ritual and was very much not in the mood for the little hellspawn's color commentary on the process.
"I don't bloody well seeing you providing with any alternatives for summoning the Ghost King." He swore, turning away from the gremlin to tear through the ancient book he and Zantanna had discovered with the ritual inside.
There was a loud slurping noise as the undead hero sucked the last remnants of her drink through the straw. John's brow twitched, even Zantanna - who usually seemed endeared by the chaos goblin - looked at the end of her rope.
Then - "Oh, is that who you wanted to summon? Why didn't you say so?" She drifted over, handing her empty drink off to a disgruntled looking Batman, and began rummaging through the unused magival supplies left over from the - failed - summoning circle. "Here, give me like, five minutes."
John was fairly certain his head was about to explode.
"You know how to summon the Ghost King? You?"
Phantom rolled her eyes at him. "Duh, obviously."
"Obviously." Zantanna repeated, looking like she was half a moment away from having a breakdown. She didn't try to stop the ghostly girl, though, and to be fair neither was John. They were already fucked, might as well let the gremlin try her hand at it.
It took less than the five minutes Phantom had claimed she needed.
When she was done there was a significantly smaller circle on the ground. At the cardinal directions of the circle, written clockwise she'd drawn not any magical runes but instead what appeared to be the Roman Numerals for one, then two, then something akin to a sideways T with an additional mark rising upward from the long horizontal bar, then the letter L.
It had to have some kind of ancient magical significance John didn't know as Shazam made a noise like a dying goose and squeaked out the word Loss like it was a question. Phantom gave the Champion of Magic a sharp toothed grin before adding some words in a language John didn't know before she finally allowed gravity to pull her back to earth and plant her feet on the ground.
She wiped her hands together a bit dramatically, looking pleased with herself, but at that point John didn't care. He could feel the building magic, heavy and oppressive as she had begun her task. Unlike the circle he and Zantanna had attempted, this one was working.
He couldn't help thr nervous swallow he gave as Phantom then declared, with a strange amount of seriousness. "All that’s left are the words."
She took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment, and the world went utterly silent around them. This, John could feel, this was the real deal. Fuck him sideways the hellspawn was actually doing it.
Phantom's eyes opened, glowing with that bright eerie green light of her power. Another deep breath and then -
"You are my dad! You're my dad!" He watched, any scraps of hope she'd instilled in him dying an undignified death as she gave a terrible little wiggle dance while she sang(?) Off key, "Boogie woogie woogie!"
Every last person on Earth was going to die and one of John's last moments was going to be spent watching the little undead shit do the Macarena. Well fuck him, he guessed.
Then there was the sound of the veil between the world's tearing in two and the fucking Ghost King was standing in Phantom's summoning circle screaming in a screeching falsetto:
"When will you learn? When will you learn that your actions have consequences!"
You know what actually at this point John would rather the apocalypse kill him.
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luveline · 5 months
Note
my lovely jade would you consider writing more about new to the team reader and fresh out of prison spencer?😇🩷i'd really love anything, they make me kick my feet and blush so bad!🥰 love you <3
love you gorgeous <3
“Here.” Spencer puts a granola bar on top of your notebook. 
It slides down the slopes of the page into the centre and disrupts your train of thought. Your stomach stirs, remembered, and your fingertips shake ever so slightly as they curl around his gift. “Thank you,” you say, the grit of the packaging like a pinprick. “Sorry, I was somewhere else.” 
“If you don't eat, you'll get foggy, and then you'll be unhappy,” he says, sitting in the chair between yours and Emily's. 
“And you need a clear mind to work,” Emily says. 
She's Unit Chief, as formidable as her predecessors, but it's her demeanour that intimidates you. She's confident in how much she cares about people and she won't let you forget what this is all for, nor the strength of it. You find yourself nodding like an obedient puppy whenever she talks —whenever any of them talk. 
Spencer watches your expression. You aren't sure why. “And less coffee.”
“That's a little hypocritical,” Emily says, her voice stretching with humour, “but I'll allow it.” 
“That's why her hands are shaking.” He nods to the granola bar, and when you struggle to open it, he reaches for it with a gentle touch. “Do you think you might have a low tolerance for caffeine?” 
The shaking worsens at the question, though it's innocent enough. You don't want to explain why you're shaking because you know it paints a poor picture of professionalism, but you can't lie to them. It almost feels like the idea of shoplifting, the fear of being caught. You desperately want them to like you, trust you, and respect you, and lying this early on won't help that. 
“I need to do better,” you say. 
“You're doing amazing,” Spencer says, as Emily asks, “Why do you say that?” 
“I'm having trouble, uh, sleeping. And remembering to eat enough. That's why I'm shaking so badly. It'll go away soon, I promise.” 
“Are you drinking any water?” Emily stands. “You have to stay on top of this stuff.” 
She stalks off looking pissed. You wince, and Spencer puts the now opened granola bar in your hand, curling your fingers around it nicely. “Here, take your time.” 
You are shamefully desperate for reassurance. “Is she angry?”
“Yeah, she's mad.” Spencer doesn't smile. His voice doesn't betray much else. “She wasn't always good at taking care of herself, either, but now she doesn't have a choice. She has to be the best, and she has to make you the best you can be. Which is why she's angry.” 
“That I'm not currently at my best,” you surmise. 
“That she didn't notice.” He takes a pen from his pocket and a post it note from the table. “But Emily doesn't need to worry, because I'm here, and I would've looked after you anyways, even if she wasn't Unit Chief.” 
You take a bite of granola bar to pretend he hasn't winded you. I would've looked after you anyways. He writes a quick list as you chew, unaware of his affect on you or choosing to ignore it. 
He hands you the note. 
2 meals
4 glasses of water 
4 cups of coffee
702-555-0103
“I already have your phone number,” you say, hot in the face. 
“And you could stand to use it more often.” He takes your shoulder into his hand and leans in, giving you a nice squeeze, his thumb rubbing a line into your blouse. “Yeah? I know this is all harder than it looks. I promise I get it.” His voice creeps down into a more playful teasing, “Why are you so reluctant to call me? You're breaking my heart.” 
You laugh breathlessly. He pats your shoulder. “Finish that, okay? I'll go find us something more substantial for lunch.” 
Obviously you want him to take care of you, whatever that means, but it's still startling. He's smart, and so, so pretty, and he has this obsession with teasing you… if he even knows he's doing it. 
“Oh, Y/N?” he asks from the door. You look up, eyes wide, a deer in his headlights. “You really are doing amazing.” 
“Thank you.” 
Emily comes in a few seconds after he leaves, the biggest bottle of water you've ever seen in her hand, her eyebrows raised sceptically. “What's he smiling about?” 
You clear your throat. “I’m not sure.” 
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weeknd-ogoc · 6 months
Text
ENAMORADO ˙ ˖ 𖥔 OLIVER BEARMAN
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SUMMARY: in which ollie finds himself deeply in love with his girlfriend and always doing little things for her. CONTAINS: mexican!reader, jealous!ollie, a little sex talk with his mother 🤭 & major fluff! AUTHOR'S NOTE: thank you guys for reading, my requests are open!
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(the smaller words in parenthesis are the english translation!)
if someone were to ask oliver bearman what matters to him the most in his eighteen years of life — for someone his age you'd think he'd say his family, friends or even his career but it was never that.
he'd say his answer with a smile on his face each time. "my girlfriend of coarse, she's the love of my life."
the two of you had been dating for a year now and yeah everyone who saw you two could tell you were obviously deeply in love with him but they could also see that oliver was completely head over heels for you.
"moving in together?" oliver's mother questioned him. "don't you think it's a little soon for that?"
"well we were thinking maybe next year..."
his mother adored you but she knew the two of you were young and in love but she also knew that sometimes relationships this age didn't usually last.
the next time she saw oliver he was happy but something was off, he seemed a bit suspicious. she observed the both of you for the rest of the day until finally oliver had slipped up and revealed a little red mark on his wrist.
"oliver bearman." he heard his mother say.
uh oh.
she went over and scanned his wrist. "you did not!" she scanned yours and saw the same thing.
a little red tattoo, an o on your wrist and your first name letter on his.
"i'm going to strangle the both of you..." she mumbled out.
after that his mother nearly had heart attacks every time he told her he wanted to talk to her about something and was relieved when it wasn't something bad.
"this is not the conversation i want to be having but it needs to be asked..." she sighed as she sat the both of you down. "are you guys using protection?"
"mom!"
his mother looked at him with a serious face.
"yes we are." he responded "mm well sometimes..."
you hit him in the chest and your face instantly heated up.
"oliver!" his mother and you yelled.
once that awkward conversation was done, his mother bought you guys a box of condoms and the subject was never talked about again.
oliver had invited you to go to mexico with him since he had his f1 debut on friday, you could tell he was nervous but he didn't want to talk about it.
upon arriving to mexico he was excited to get some alone time with you since the both of you lived in different places, you guys always seemed to be together though.
"since the drinking age is eighteen here and i'm eighteen and you're nineteen, i think we should ord-"
you shook your head. "absolutely not. your mom would have a heart attack and kill me if she ever found out."
he groaned before kissing your forhead and taking your luggage away from you. "boring."
so thursday morning he invited you to go get breakfast before heading to the paddock for media day.
you had found a little coffee shop and the both of you walked there.
"baby, it's just not the same as yours..." he pouted as he opened the door for you.
you let out a laugh before kissing his cheek and walking past him. "i'm telling you the ones from here are so much better!"
he had always said your chocolate de abuelita was the best so if you guys had been back at home he would've loved for you to make it, you had also put him on mexican sweet breads and now he was obsessed.
"dos chocolate calientes y dos conchas, por favor." he heard you tell the waiter as he opened up his straw and began using his finger to turn it into a circle. (two hot chocolates and two sweet breads, please.)
when you looked back to him he began twisting the piece of paper. "ollie, what are you doing?"
once he tied the paper he put out his hand out for yours and you tried giving him your right hand but he shook his head. "left hand."
you handed him your left hand and he slipped the paper ring onto your ring finger.
“i'll give you a real one sometime soon...” he smiled as he admired his artwork. "right after i get you the hacienda style house that you're always going on about."
you leaned over to give him a gentle kiss on his lips. "god, i love you."
he placed another kiss on your lips. "not as much as i do."
the man came back with the order and oliver smiled at him. "gracias."
as the man walked away he gave you a goofy little smile. "you see i can speak spanish too."
the both of you quietly ate your breakfast and he found himself finishing quicker than you. "it was good, real good but i prefer yours."
he had a little milk mustache and you laughed as you wiped his mouth with a napkin. "sure you do..."
𖥔
you followed oliver all over the paddock as he did some interviews here and there. he was super excited since he was going to be doing these in a few years — while you were admiring him, a certain boy from mclaren came by to say hello to you.
“is that miss l/n?” you heard a voice say and wrap an arm around you.
oscar piastri, someone you had known for a few years now.
"oh my god oscar, i haven't seen you in like forever!" you squealed and hugged him back.
oliver saw the whole interaction and found himself getting distracted during the interview since he was watching the two of you have a little conversation. he was never a jealous person in his other relationships but with you it was different — he knew he had nothing to worry about with you but you just never knew what the other person could be up to.
before the two of you had started dating, you were hanging around arthur leclerc since your families had been close so that must've been how you knew oscar he thought.
arthur was the one who had introduced the two of you awhile back and oliver had always told him he was so grateful for that.
"hey, i'm oliver." he introduced himself to oscar.
"nice to meet you. you'll be practicing with us tomorrow, excited?"
he nodded and wrapped his arm around you. "excited and a tad bit nervous."
oscar nodded. "you'll be fine, see you guys tomorrow."
as he left oliver planted a kiss on your cheek. "i was thinking maybe we can stay in mexico for a few more days after the race on sunday, maybe go to a resort or something?"
you nodded. "i know a place!"
𖥔
the next morning the both of you went to the coffee shop and ordered the same thing as yesterday. oliver had been strangely quiet all morning.
"stop being so nervous ollie, you're going to do amazing!" he gently grabbed your hand with a smile.
"i love you, you know that?"
"i know." you smiled. "and i love you too."
after you guys finished, you met up with arthur as oliver was getting ready, the both of you were hanging around charles and carlos who were also getting ready.
"you're going to do amazing babe." you reminded him and gave him a kiss before he could slip his helmet on.
you spent your time cheering on for oliver and when he placed fifteenth place, he came out happy as ever and swooped you in for a kiss.
that night ollie had convinced you to go to a bar to celebrate with arthur and a few other drivers.
the bartender gave you guys a few options and they let oliver choose.
casamigos.
"this is going to give your mom a heart attack." you mumbled before taking a shot with them.
this wasn't the first time you had drunk but it was his so after his third shot, he was starting to get a bit chatty and arthur watched him with amuse.
"you're just so beautiful you know..." he mumbled and moved a few strands of your hair behind your ear. "you make me chocolate de abuelitas and you're just so sweet." he continued listing the reasons why he loved you. "ugh baby you just make me so happy!"
you kissed his cheek as arthur began laughing at the boy, even taking a few pictures and videos.
"alright i think its time to go my sweet boy, you can tell me the rest of your lis-"
"you know what, i also love that my family loves you and i love when you play with my hair and you're so supportive of me."
arthur got up and began helping you take him into a taxi as oliver continued ranting. after ten minutes you guys arrived back into the hotel room and as you helped him get ready for bed, he grabbed onto your cheeks and kissed you.
“i'm going to really marry you some day...” he mumbled out as you began running you fingers through his little curls.
you nodded and kissed his cheek. “of course ollie, some day we will get married.” you agree.
“we can have like three children and a lot of animals in our house here in mexico...” you smiled and nodded along to the future plans he had for you guys.
before the both of you could fall asleep, he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your cheek. "yo estoy enamorado contigo." (i'm in love with you)
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f1 & f2 masterlist!
© weeknd-ogoc, 2023
1K notes · View notes
mickyschumacher · 7 months
Text
𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐀𝐊𝐄  .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando have a pretty healthy relationship; communication is a breeze between the two of you. and while that seems good, it doesn't help lando is horny 24/7. even the beach isn't safe from him.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), established relationship, some fluff, blowjob, slight handjob, breastplay, poor humour LMAO aka old creepy mens' dicks, no time concept lol, basically lando time!
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!lando norris x fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: now playing: ice cream cake – red velvet! OKAY YES IK I HAVE REQUESTS BUT I HAD WRITER'S BLOCK TILL THIS OKAY? is it not obvious by the word count? 😭 alexa, play 'easy on me' by adele :( also new banners after i messed around one day! ♡︎ // proof-read-ish!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
You had met Lando two years ago purely on accident. You were at a coffee shop in Brighton, he was visiting a friend there. You ordered a hot chocolate and he had ordered a long black. Somehow the both of you had swapped cups and were wincing at how sweet or bitter the drink was.
Lando had turned his cup around to see who the cup belonged to. Upon seeing your name, unlike a normal person who would ask the barista for another cup or a refund, he had shouted your name across the room.
Lucky for you, you were the only other customer there since it was a slow day. Nevertheless, you looked up in shock. Who yelled out your name? Why? How did they know your name?
You actually purposely avoided eye-contact with his table just in case he was some weird guy. But Lando got your attention after telling you from across that room that you had some sweet taste in drinks.
You raised a brow. Was this some sort of new catcall you didn't know about? But then you had caught the barista's handwriting on 'your' cup. Lando, Long Black.
You scrunched your nose at the cup and looked at him. "You're quite bitter."
It was at that point when Lando had got a clear shot of your face and found his heart racing faster than normal. You were pretty, no gorgeous, no beautiful, no... surreal. Your face was contorted into a grimaced expression at his order which he found amusing. You looked like, what he still claims to this day, part of the shop's couch. The couch was brown and you were wearing a brown sweater.
Honestly, Lando couldn't find the whole situation anymore endearing. So with whatever confidence he had leftover, he walked up to your table and smoothly asked, "Can I get you a sweeter one with my number?"
Now this was when you first had probably got a look of Lando. He had a certain... boyish charm, if you will. The wide grin, sparkling blue eyes, face dotted with the odd freckle or beauty mark. To say he was attractive was an understatement. He looked like one of the main characters in the rom-coms you would binge when you needed a pick me-up.
You said yes. Obviously.
And here you were, two years later. At the beach with Lando, Charles, Carlos, Daniel, and their partners. You were all caught up with F1, always available for Lando. Your perspective of him had changed quite a lot since you had met him. In a good way, of course.
You initially saw him how a lot most of his fans and the media see him. A comedian by day and a moodmaker by night. Always smiling and cheery. Positive and optimistic. But the reality was that Lando struggled with the mental and physical aspects of F1. He didn't always have the confidence and he was stressed and depressed.
But as Lando always said in his interviews, he had found you.
'The best thing that had ever happened to him,' according to Lando himself.
Anyone could see that the two of you loved each other with your entire beings. Neither of you left any stone unturned in your relationship. Most people were jealous of your relationship. The drivers, the media, and especially the fans.
And you wouldn't have it any other way.
━━━━━━━━━━━
One thing about Lando that you had learned quite soon after your first time together was that Lando was insatiable. He was sex-driven, horny, full of lust, aroused... all the words in the dictionary for a man like this... 24/7.
One day, you asked him why. Lando only responded with pulling you closer to him, leaving a trail of kisses from your jaw and down to your neck, and saying "You."
You wouldn't say anything did it for him. No in fact, it was specific things that he couldn't take his mind off once he thought about it.
Take right now for example.
Carlos had decided to treat everyone to ice creams, ice lollies, and juice on your trip to the beach in Playa de Bolonia. Innocently and naively, you had chosen the pink ice lolly out the chilly bin. Lando had also not thought anything of it.
Rather Lando had being eyeing you with every spare glance as you were wearing his favourite bikini, the one he had bought you for Christmas as a prank gift in the nice British winter thinking it had been the funniest thing ever. Obviously, he thought you were going to were it but another thing you had learned was that Lando's humour quite often was unmatched and spontaneous.
The bikini itself was simple. An orange, of course, two-piece. The top was held up by two moderately thin straps and hugged your breasts quite nicely. The bikini bottom was as normal as it could get, clinging to your hips. On top of it, you wore a white thin-laced cotton coverup, loosely tied together.
You would say it was an average beach look. Lando would disagree. It was as if God himself had carved you and decided to put you on Earth as reparations for the bad in the world.
But back to the point.
As mentioned, Lando hadn't really thought of the ice lolly. He was too busy trying to get Daniel back with a water gun. Like you said, boyish. It wasn't until he had finally got him back and decided to go sit down with you and grab himself some ice cream.
But when Lando sat down and looked at you, his mind had suddenly turned into shambles. There you were. Under the shade, peaks of sun shining on your skin, holding that pink ice lolly to your mouth.
Lando wasn't quite sure what was worse. The faint pink colour similar to his cock or the way your tongue travelled down the length of it to collect the melting sugary liquid. Or how your lips pressed up on the tip of the ice and pressed down to take an inch more of it into your mouth as if it was his own cock.
To make matters even worse for him, you had failed to capture some of the melting droplets. Lando keenly watched as they fell to your bare part of your chest and even had landed right where he knew your nipple was. His eyes widened ever so slightly and his breath paced when you frowned at the event and used your finger to wipe the sweet liquid off your skin and into your mouth. Some of it had gone too far down, probably pooling near your breasts like he imagined.
What sent him overboard? When you had spotted the stain on your bikini top over your nipple and attempted to rub it away, only making the stain worse and a small bump for your pebbled nipple.
Lando gulped nervously, pants incredibly tight. He closed his eyes and held his hands over his newly-formed hard on, wishing that his mind wasn't full of everything he had just seen. Your lips... your breasts... the way your eyes looked down at the popsicle... if only that was his cock....
"Lando? Dude, do you need to go to the bathroom?" Pierre's voice cut through the air.
Lando snapped his eyes opened and your eyes looked over to your boyfriend.
"W-What?" The British male queried with slight panic. He was not getting caught with a hard-on in front of his friends... there was no way in Earth...
Pierre raised a brow, gesturing to his pants. "You're ice cream is all melted. You need to take your eyes off Y/N at least sometimes, Lando, otherwise you'll never finish... your ice cream, that is," He teased.
You looked down at Lando's pants where his hands laid, covered in the white vanilla ice cream-turned liquid. You and everyone let out an amused laugh at Pierre's joke, shaking your head.
You stood up from the sandy grass you were sat on, dusting yourself off. You extended your hand to Lando, "Come on. I bought extra stuff in the car. Honestly, I thought you were going to lose your trunks by Daniel pantsing you in the water but I guess not."
A howl of laughter came from Charles and Carlos while Daniel cursed himself for not doing it.
Lando blinked, pulling the finger at his fellow drivers. He sighed, grabbing your hand and awkwardly standing up from the area, managing to cover up his bulge swiftly.
The two of you headed to the car as Lando briefly threw out the sticky wrapper and stick into a bin nearby. You opened the boot of the car, grabbing his trunks. "Jesus, could it get any hotter today?" You asked, closing the back door.
"It really couldn't," Lando mused, walking hand-in-hand with you, making you release a groan.
"Lando... now my hand's all sticky, you idiot," You complained, trying to pull apart from his hand.
Lando rolled his eyes, arriving to the empty males changing room. He was about to enter when he saw you stand outside and not follow him. "What are you doing? Come in."
You narrowed your eyes. "It's a male changing room. I'm not going in. What if there's some old man trying to change? I do not need to be scarred for life. My DMs is enough, thanks."
"First of all, there's no one here," Lando stated before shouting a loud 'Hello' into the room, making you redden with embarassment. "See? Secondly, I'm sorry, let me get this straight, your DMs are full of old men's dicks?" Lando looked at you incredulously.
You grinned, shrugging. "It's called being a woman, Lando. You wouldn't get it."
Lando rolled his eyes once again, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you into the changing room.
The room was the opposite of most changing rooms. It was tiled well, clean and fresh as opposed to musty, damp and with paint-chipped walls. There were also no leaky taps or showers or even any graffiti. It was slightly comforting to know that at least people respected some of their public rooms, even in Madrid.
"Wait, also, what if I get old? You don't want to see my shrivelled dick? It should turn you on!" Lando asked with a dramatic gasp.
You looked at your boyfriend through the mirror with a dumfounded expression. Turning, you threw his trunks at his face. "Go change," You laughed, shaking your head.
Lando grinned underneath the trunks as you turned the tap on to wash your sugar-coated hands.
Lando had removed his trunks, left naked with his hard, reddened cock slapping against his stomach, and was about to put on the new ones when a thought passed his mind.
You paused your hand-washing and froze when you felt Lando's arms wrap around your stomach, pulling you close to his bare body. "Lando," You yelped, feeling a shiver cross your body, "What are you doing?"
Lando peered down at you through his thick eyelashes. He tucked his chin into your shoulder, placing a brief kiss. "What?" He asked innocently, "I'm just washing my hands. I can't get the new ones dirty either."
You watched through the mirror as he pressed his body into you, washing his hands under the tap, ridding the tackiness on his hands.
You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock push into your backside. It was bare, you realised, as the heat spread into you. Your eyes flickered to Lando through the mirror, squinting at him. He wasn't...
Lando caught your eyes staring hard at him. "Don't look at me like that," He whispered into your ear, a loose grin hanging on his face. His wet fingers travelled to the poorly tied lace coverup you wore, undoing the knot with ease. The coverup fell against your shoulders, revealing your bikini and body in all it's glory.
"You have to clean up as well," Lando shrugged, eyes fixated on you through the mirror. "You made a mess," He murmured, wetting his fingers with the water once more before placing it against your chest.
You pressed your lips tightly, feeling his fingers drive down your skin and underneath your bikini top. Lando's fingers brushed your hardened nipples, making you shudder under his touch. His fingers trailed across your breasts, wiping away any of that sticky residue that you had missed. Bringing his fingers to his mouth and taking a wide lick of them, Lando grinned at you. "You know... I can't stop picturing you sucking my dick like that ice lolly. Never thought I would be jealous of an ice lolly."
You couldn't help but smile in amusement. You pulled away from his hold and turned to face your boyfriend. "Yeah?" You hummed, hands trailing down his chest. Lando had been working out a lot more these days for F1; compared to before his abs had become more prominent and toned. You loved Lando no matter what he looked like, but there was something about the way his skin flushed when you touched his torso.
Lando's breath hitched as your hand had ever so naturally found it's way to his cock. His cock, if you could say it, was pretty. It was average in length and with a nice, filling girth, stretching all of your holes wide.
Your fingers brushed across the tip of his head, just grazing his slit. You could feel Lando jolt in your hands as he muttered, “Fuck.”
You opened your mouth, letting a drop of saliva full into his cock. Hand wrapped around it, you gently rubbed natural lube up and down his shaft. Lando’s jaw clenched at the warm liquid nestling around his cock, letting a sharp exhale through gritted teeth.
Slowly you sunk down to your knees. The tiled floor was cold against your burning skin but it didn’t matter: you were too focused on what was right in front of you; cockdrunk. Your tongue darted out to swipe your lips before pressing a light kiss to his cock. Lando could feel himself twitch, aching to be in your mouth.
He watched as your lips opened like they did on that ice lolly. Going down in his cock, your lips stretched and your mouth hollowed.
Lando groaned at the warmth surrounding his cock. He bit down on his lip, watching his cock disappear into your mouth. Your eyes were on him as you sucked him, teeth barely grazing his skin.
"Fuck, you look so pretty like this, Y/N," Lando sighed out, "On your knees for me. I can't imagine the mess you made between those legs of yours, hmm?"
You moaned in response, sending a vibration around his cock. You briefly pulled away from him, making Lando grunt in slight annoyance at the loss. "These lips, my pussy.... all yours," You winked at him before returning to his cock.
Lando tensed at your words, letting a grin overtake him. "Yeah? Let's see about that throat, baby?" His hands reached your half dry and half damp, salty hair. Wrapping those long tresses around his hand and wrist, he tightened his grip. He could feel you open up your throat as he guided his cock down the tighter tunnel.
Lando's rasping groan made you clench your thighs, holding a barrier to the wetness leaking at of you. You could feel him begin to move his hips, beginning to push his cock into your throat.
Fighting the urge to gag around his cock, you tried hard to relax your cheeks and mouth, allowing every inch of him to be seated in your throat.
He flickered his eyes to you. Watching you take him in his mouth was a pleasure of its own. Your big eyes were glassy with tears of arousal and a haze of lust, sweat and saliva lingered at every edge of your skin, and your lips were puffy and red. Trailing his eyes further down, he spotted your bare neck in dire need of kisses, but that wasn't the most striking thing about it. It was the slight bulge of his cock in your throat making it's presence known.
Jesus...
Lando instinctively closed his eyes upon feeling your hands touch his balls. You rubbed them gently, feeling your head bob at an increased rate to match the sudden pace of Lando's cock in your throat.
"Fuck, fuck... I..." Lando moaned. "I'm gonna cum!" Lando hissed out, feeling a familiar bubbling feeling overcome. His thrusts become harder and faster, your nose flushed with his skin.
His moans became irregular and higher, chasing his release. "Fuck...." A guttural groan fell from his lips. Hot, salty white strips of his cum coated the inside of your mouth, swirling around after each drop was sucked from your lips. Almost painfully, Lando removed himself from your mouth. His chest rose up and down as he breathed out heavily.
An admiring smile came from Lando while he pulled you up to meet his face. He pushed your sweaty hair back. "That mouth of yours is evil," He narrowed his eyes playfully.
"You should shut me up then," You quipped back, sticking out your tongue that still had his cum on it.
Lando's eyes sparkled with amusement before he brought his lips to yours, darting his tongue into your mouth. The urgency in the action was understated. God, he could taste himself in you. His hands encapsulated your waist, flushing your barely clothed body to close his naked one. Your own hands travelled everywhere across his chest as the two of you kissed each other.
The muffled moans from you made Lando want to hear them out loud. Slowly he moved from your lips to your jaw. "Let me hear you, baby," He breathed out, placing smaller kisses as he reached your neck.
You let out a small whimper, neck tilting so Lando could get more access. Lando grinned at the sight of your bare neck, leaving small little nibbles across your skin. His lips eventually became settled in an area between your ear and collarbone, beginning to suck at your warmth.
"Lando," You moaned, "No, the others will realise."
Your refutes were ill-attempted even for yourself. You were dazed at the suction of his lips. His nose buried into your neck while he created a fresh layer of purple against your sun-kissed skin.
Lando released himself from your neck, eyeing down his creation with a smirk. "There. If they couldn't tell from your hair, they'll definitely know now."
You narrowed your eyes, turning to the mirror only for your eyes to widen in shock. "Jesus fucking Christ, Lando," You peered at the big purple brown splotch on your skin. "As if the 20 minutes we've spent here wasn't enough," You whined.
Lando laughed softly, standing behind you with his arms around your waist and chin resting on your head. "Well... if you make it through the shame, I can't wait to properly fuck you when we get home. You must know how much I love the way you look when I’m inside you."
Your head fell against his chest with a pout. "Why not now?"
Lando grinned before pressing a kiss to your head "Like you said... it's been 20 minutes."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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oldfangirl81 · 3 months
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Sam was a little odd by Metropolis standards. At least once a day people asked when she was moving to Gotham. And yeah, it was a city she felt more at home in however Metropolis University offered a full ride.
Her parents hadn't taken her coming out as pansexual too well so Sam refused their money. They were getting better slowly. Still to make rent money she worked at a coffee shop close to campus. But didn't get along with most of her coworkers.
One manager in particular had been giving her problems. Tucker offered to wreck the guy's credit score. Danny offered to send Cujo to haunt him. Jazz offered to help her find an employment lawyer. Elle offered to punch him.
Sam had turned down all offers of help before. Until he really started spreading ugly rumors about her. One had even got her questioned by Metropolis PD.
Then she spotted a joke about how going super Goth can involve sentient hand butlers. That's when she asked a favor from her Ghost King friend.
On the next shift with Chip things were going okay. It had been a pretty quiet day so far. The only customers were to college guys, one kept sneaking sips of energy drinks between coffee sips. He also kept getting caught each time by his friend.
Just then in the door came a glowing green hand carrying a Wonder Woman lunch box.
"WHAT THE FUCK!?!" Yelled Chip.
Over in the corner Tim whispered to Connor. "You see the glowing green hand without a body attached or do I need more sleep?"
"Both things are true." He whispered back to the tired man.
"Oh thanks, Noun. I can't believe I forgot my lunch." Sam took the lunch box and gave the glowing hand a pat.
"That's yours!?! Of course it is. What is it doing here?"
"Obviously bringing me the lunch I forgot."
"And why do you have it?"
"Because I'm just that Goth."
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