#setting the dinner table together

[giveshope]

honorable   mentions   to   the   gifs   that   did   not   make   the   cut   but   that   are   just   as   special   in   my   heart   !   !

[thesimperiuscurse]

summer al fresco 🌱

[kawasiki-jo]

Oops, I did a bad thing 🤭✨💚

Macau Theerapanyakul has been raised with manners. He knows how to set the table before dinner, he knows dinning etiquette and behaviours. He knows how to eat with his elbows off the table.

Unlike Porchay, whose elbows are always on the table.

Macau doesn't mind thought.

Porchay's hand would get up to no good if they aren't on the table and within Macau's line of sight. 😏🤭🤫🥵✨

[natjennie]

IM SORRY YOU LOST THE SISTER YOU NEVER HAD YOURE THE SISTER I NEVER HAD

[scorpiotrait]

[drewbydrewbydrew]

I have a fucking master's degree and I've been beaten by a fucking couch and a coffee table

[fazcinatingblog]

Remember when Brodie Grundy and Tim Broomhead were broommates

[augustinewrites]

“sunflowers or peonies?”

“awe, nanami! i’m flattered—”

“they’re not for you,” nanami says flatly. “you can buy your own.”

shoko squints down at the man lying on her exam table, arm held up and behind his head. “i’m quite literally stitching you back together, you know.”

the blond thinks bitterly on what had landed him in her infirmary in the first place, injured and likely having to reschedule dinner tonight. it’s already well past the time he’d planned on picking you up, and the table he’d reserved at the new restaurant in roppongi has likely been given away.

he’s dreading calling to tell you, his heart already twinging at the idea of letting you down.

shoko stitches him up neatly, cleaning and covering it up with a layer of bandages. she offers him a hand to help him sit up, but he bypasses it to plant his palm against the cot, pushing himself up with a groan.

she rolls her eyes, peeling her gloves off and pulling her mask down, tossing them both into the trash. “clean and dress it at least twice a day. no sudden movements of strenuous activity for at least a week. if you ruin my work, i’ll put you on bedrest.”

she digs through her cabinets as he awkwardly pulls his shirt back on. his mind drifts to you as he does so. he’d lost his phone in the fight, so he hadn’t been able to tell you about cancelling.

he wonders if the pout on your lips is painted your lips that shade of red you’d been wearing when he’d first met you. wonders if you’re waiting wearing the dress he’d gifted you last week.

he’d really wanted to see you in that dress.

nanami sighs heavily as he does up the buttons, prompting shoko to glance over her shoulder at him.

“what’s wrong with you?” she asks, setting a small bottle of painkillers on the tray table next to him.

“i’m missing an important dinner,” he grumbles, wondering if just a bundle sunflowers or peonies from the small stall outside is enough. he should order you a proper bouquet from a shop. perhaps he can also book you a massage or—

a knock at the door interrupts his spiralling.

“oh!” shoko suddenly gasps. she reaches up, brushing a few stray hairs from his forehead and fixing it as best she can.

“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely confused in this moment.

“you’ll see,” she simply grins, sending him a wink. then, “come in!”

the door to the infirmary opens to reveal…you.

“kento,” you breathe, the quiet click of your heels echoing through the empty room as you quickly walk towards him.

he’s shocked, but lets you carefully wrap your arms around him, cradling his head against your chest.

but before he knows it he’s holding onto you too, breathing in the deep, sweet scent of your perfume and focusing on the steady beat of your heart.

“what are you doing here?” he asks once you finally release him, taking your hands in his.

“shoko called me,” you tell him. “apparently…apparently i’m your emergency contact.”

his face is suddenly hot with embarrassment. he’d honestly forgotten about that. he hadn’t even realized he’d done it when yaga had asked him to update his information with the school. your name had been the first and only name to pop into his mind.

“sorry,” he apologizes quickly, dropping your hands. he jumped the gun, didn’t he? you’ve only been dating for six months… “i should have asked you first but—”

but no one knows me better than you.

a soft sigh slips from your lips as you sit next to him, with a gaze so reverent that it strips him to the bone. “i love you, kento. i will be your emergency contact as long as you want me to be.”

he whispers the words back to you, suddenly shy.

sometimes nanami lets himself slip a little too far into his own head, overthinking and a little insecure. but you’re always there, ready to coax him back into the light.

“you look beautiful,” he murmurs, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. he’s seen you in a lot of dresses, each one making him weak in the knees. but this dress…this one makes it a little hard for him to breathe.

“well, you still owe me a date,” you tell him, helping him up off the cot. “we could go to the ramen place across from my apartment.”

he wraps an arm around your shoulders, and you reach up to intertwine your fingers with his. “i’d go anywhere with you.”

[lxnarphase]

the way of the househusband ๋࣭ ⭑

☾₊‧⁺...cw : househusband!fushiguro toji x fem!reader, you are megumi's mom, flirting, playful banter, just overall silly and cute domestic life

☾₊‧⁺...lunar's note : just some simple lil toji hcs of him as a househusband! i need some sweet stuff of him without a lot of sexual stuff in it bc let's be real, in a domestic setting he's probably just a big clingy and mildly annoying bear husband

f. toji is never going to complain about being the one staying home, watching over the little gremlin that is megumi. he's got his own ways of bringing in money with that friend of his, shiu, but he's more than content to being the one in the frilly pink apron, cooking for you and the lil' man.

toji didn’t ever expect to get married, especially after how he was treated as a zenin. he didn't know much about love or how to connect with people, let alone you. but when you handed his ass to him with no struggle and a pretty smile on your face at the gym, he knew he wanted you. two years later and a shit load of aggressive flirting, toji ends up with you as his spouse and he wouldn't have it any other way.

so imagine toji's surprise when he's genuinely excited when you tell him your pregnant. he's excited but scared. him? a father? there's no way in hell he has any idea what to do, his own father was nothing but a piece of shit...so what if he turns out like him? but the moment you pop that big headed little fucker out of you, toji can't help but grin, that excitement of being a father and creating memories with this tiny little thing erasing all his fears.

whenever you come home from work, toji's usually in the living room with little megumi, who forced him to take part in the exercise part of his favorite kids show. you don't know how megumi, your one year old baby who still talked in little babbles, forced his massive giant of a father who could kill a man with a look to do 'exercise for baby,' but you know better than to question it when you see the two touching their toes in front of the tv.

sometimes, he's in the kitchen, however, wearing that 'kiss the cook' apron you got for his birthday. toji always wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into a kiss, muttering a 'welcome home’ against your lips before poking your side and going back to what he was doing, proud grin on his face at the little screech he gets from you.

he's started to get better at dodging your hands when you go to poke him back, skirting around the table before going to scoop megumi up. “you would never do such an act in front of 'gumi, would you? what if he starts going around poking girls in their sides, hm? then i'll have to explain to his teacher that his mama can't keep 'er hands to herself.”

toji's got you there...so you back off, opting to press a kiss to babygumi’s little forehead, taking him from your husband’s arms when he makes grabby hands at you. you savor the betrayed look on toji's face, sticking your tongue out at him. he scoffs, rolling his eyes before going back to make sure dinner wasn’t burnt. he’ll get you back for stealing his son from him.

despite what people might think, there’s not really a 'dominant' person in the relationship. when together, the two of you give off some of the most intimidating vibes because of the sheer power the both of you carry. it's not even put off by little megumi, because if he notices his parents looking at you in disgust, he's gonna give you one that's even worse.

toji will never forget the day the three of you went to the grocery store, him in his usual black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, you in one of those same shirts and leggings with megumi in the kiddie seat in the shopping cart, eating from the little snack pack toji made for him. toji swears he walked away for three fucking seconds, and he came back to some...fucker getting ready to chat you up. it’s no surprise anyone that he gets pissed, ready to storm over there and make it clear you're taken.

however, it's clear you don't need him to step in, and damn, you look...really hot telling this dude off, angrily flashing your ring when he wouldn't back off. god, he wishes he could marry you again. toji doesn’t even know what you told the guy, and he's tempted to playfully ask megumi what happened, knowing his lil' man would try to respond in babbles and coos.

“he said you crawled out from the trash, toj, i can't stand for that! he could’ve done you some justice and said you crawled out of the deepest pits of hell, so I had to educate him on that. besides, he called you my boyfriend and I almost punched his face.”  “yeah? hm, i’m glad you didn’t, babe, we don’t want to get kicked out the store.”  “i don’t know, i think an imprint of my ring in his forehead would get the message across.”  “well, next time, how about we just kiss like we haven't seen each other in 15 years? not a fan of showing out to some dude, but i'd do it for you, sweetheart.”  “mmn!”  “right, lil' man? mama's so mean t' me, it's a good idea.”  “gumiiii, you're supposed to be on my side!”

occassionally, when you're at work, toji'll just talk to megumi, the little one nice and comfy on his chest.

one habit he'll never get out of is randomly calling you throughout the day when he's particularly bored and missing you. if you don't answer, toji will just leave you a message, usually about how badly he wants you to come home, groaning about how tired he is but he can't sleep without you in his arms, without you playing with his hair until he falls asleep. he's so in love with you, it's almost makes you dizzy.

you'll never forget the day you come home to toji and baby megumi in the front yard, crouched down around...something. parking in the driveway, you make your way over and see what they're looking at. it's...a kitten and a puppy, two tiny little things playfighting with each other. neither one of them say anything, just looking at the two creatures. you sigh, knowing exactly what this means.

"...give them appropriate names and make vet appointments. we aren't naming the dog 'hot dog' and we aren't naming the cat 'kitten'." "i told you it would work, lil' man."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[gallus-rising]

so throughout Dungeon Meshi Thistle is trying to find Delgal. that's explicitly why the red dragon exists

but Thistle isn't just looking for Delgal, afterwards they're going to do something together. by this point Thistle is too far gone to remember what exactly that is, but it's important enough to him that the desire hasn't fully been devoured

in Thistle's house he has everyone's bodies set up around the family dining table. this is very likely the exact same table from his flashback since just behind Delgal you can see an identical hearth, log stacks, and tree painting in the present day home. Thistle is very into keeping things preserved after all

in fact the dining table is so important to Thistle it's one of the last things he remembers as the Winged Lion eats the last of his desires

after the Winged Lion eats him Thistle is left alive but fully catatonic. though the closing chapters Yaad is taking care of Thistle and trying to get him to wake up. when he finally rouses it's in response to hearing the Golden Kingdom kids calling for "his majesty" (Laios) to come eat with them

CONCLUSION: Delgal was late for dinner. after Thistle found him they were going to have a nice family dinner, just like they had been doing for decades

[ffsg0jo]

boynextdoor! choso who you've had a mini crush on ever since you saw him move in with his two brothers yuuji and sukuna. yuuji is the 5-year-old who is just the sweetest ray of sunshine, and sukuna (kuna) is the grumpy undergrad whose name you only know because of yuuji's incessant need for 'uppies'. you don't know much about choso, though, except that he's the eldest, is always working to pay for the bills/rent, and is scarcely home.

boynextdoor! choso, who invites you over for dinner a couple of days after moving in to get to know you a little better and introduce him and his family. you notice the lack of parents, but you don’t say anything or bring it to attention, seeing first-hand how hard choso works as you help him with all the dishes he cooked, and as sukuna sets the table. immediately, yuuji is smitten by you (and you, him) constantly trying to get your attention and talking to you about his new friend called gumi, your shared neighbour's son. choso watches you with yuuji in your arms while you're animatedly talking to his baby brother. the genuine interest you show in what yuuji says makes his heart pitter patter.

(sukuna is quiet throughout the whole affair, only speaking when spoken to and even then keeping it prompt, but he notices the way choso looks at you when you're not watching and vice versa. you’re kind, polite, and seemingly loving. you could be good for his older brother; he thinks to himself.)

boynextdoor! choso, who knocked on your door and asked if you wanted him to take the trash outside your door to the big bins since he's throwing out his own as well on the second week they moved in. your face heated up, and you swooned at his thoughtfulness as you shyly nodded, adding if it's not too much trouble for him. ever since then, he's assumed the role of taking out your trash, making sure to dispose of all the rubbish in the appropriate bins. does it make him a little late to work? yes. but the look on your face when he first asked was worth it.

boynextdoor! choso, who secretly tries to find excuses to see you more and more often in his busy schedule. he caught a glimpse of you through your window when first moving in, and he can't get enough of you ever since. whether it's bringing round some 'extra' cookies, he's baked for sukuna and yuuji or asking if you'd like to join them for dinner again. you've never really taken him up on that offer, though, worried about intruding, and he's almost on the verge of begging you, insisting you could never.

boynextdoor! choso who bakes the best cookies and muffins. you're half convinced he's lying to you, and he's just bought them from the local bakery. but you've seen the evidence through the window directly opposite yours, with little yuuji chasing both of his brothers round the kitchen with tiny fistfuls of flour. it's the first time you've seen choso smile so brightly, and something in your heart melts. even sukuna is tame and soft in the presence of his older brother, you've noted.

boynextdoor! choso whose brothers notice the badly hidden crush he has on the cutie next door. (yes, it's gotten so obvious that even little yuuji recognises the fact that big bro really wants to be your friend). he works so hard for them, and he deserves happiness, so it's in his best interest when both knuckleheads (mainly sukuna) put their heads together and start plotting and devising a plan to try and get you both together. they've seen the longing in both of your eyes and are sure it'll work.

boynextdoor! choso who knocks on your door at 4 something am in the morning whilst you're half asleep asking if you could babysit yuuji. his shift starts two hours, and he needs to leave in one, and sukuna is nowhere to be seen. he's so apologetic, and he promises to make it up to you however you want. you see the bags under his eyes and the heart-breaking frown on his face, and you immediately agree. yuuji's a delight anyway, and you'd be more than happy to.

(yuuji is gently woken up by his big bro before he leaves, who explains what's happened. he smiles a wide, sleepy smile and is excited to spend time with you, ready to set his and sukubros plan into motion. but first, he needs another nap and some cuddles.)

(choso is forever grateful for the angel of a brother yuuji is. it balances out sukuna for sure.)

boynextdoor! choso, who seems to talk about you a lot, and how beautiful you are. at least according to yuuji. yuuji says sometimes big bro sees you outside from the kitchen window whilst he's cooking and looks at you with a smile. a smile yuuji's only seen him give to two other people, but other big bro said that choso wants to crush you? he doesn't understand why because you're really lovely to yuuji and to everyone in general and you play with him and let him take pictures on your phone and secretly let him have his dessert with his meal. anyways if big bro tries to crush you, don't worry, you've got yuuji to protect you!

(his words make you blush at the implication as you realise what yuuji means.)

boynextdoor! choso who comes back from his long shift to you and yuuji napping on his couch. he’s exhausted, but the sight of you two together warms his heart, and he suddenly finds himself with bucketloads of energy. he gets started on making dinner for you all whilst you’re napping, and he hopes that you’ll stay this time. halfway through prepping, he hears a door open and a worse for wear sukuna stumbles in with a hard look on his face. quietly, sukuna joins his brother, muttering a small apology and washing his hands before taking over on chopping the onions. the two cook in silence, knowing that sukuna would open up when he’s ready.

boynextdoor! choso who gently nudges you awake when they’re finished cooking. at first, you think you’re dreaming with an angelic looking choso hovering above you. but then you cringe, feeling the drool on your cheek, wiping it away quickly, praying choso never noticed. (he most definitely did, but he found it incredibly endearing). he thanks you profusely and insists on you joining them for dinner. you’re glad you did because there’s just something so sweet about the three brothers interacting with each other. even sukuna lightly jokes around and teases little yuuji at the dinner table, trying to get him to eat all his veggies.

boynextdoor! choso, who keeps trying to pay you for looking after yuuji when you’re about to leave. you refuse knowing that his family needs it more, plus you’re more than happy to look after yuuji, he’s an angel. choso still insists, adamant on paying you and only shuts up when you tell choso to take you out on date instead, emboldened by everything yuuji’s told you. choso short circuits, blushing furiously. he nods, unable to form words, and stutters out an ‘i’ll text you’. you turn around and leave, and choso is still rooted to the spot, replaying your words in his head. it’s only when he’s giggling and kicking his legs in bed that he suddenly realises he doesn’t have your number. oh well, it’s just another excuse to see you then.

(sukuna witnesses the whole thing and is lowkey mad because he spent all that time planning and plotting for no reason. he hears choso’s giggles through the thin walls, though, and fights back a smile. to hell with his plans.)

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[inkskinned]

i have spent a few days listening to the music you like. you have a tattoo of the band's logo on your ribs. you got it when you were still kind of a kid. my first tattoo was a bird instead. i did the math - we got our first tattoos in the same calendar year. isn't that kind of cool.

my mom loves hallmark movies, so i grew up thinking love would look like a firework. it feels like one, after all. it's just that my house wasn't safe. i thought love was a weapon, could be pointed at your eyes. could lose a finger to it, or teeth. my father used to say passion is everything. i thought that meant constant fighting was a good thing. i thought that meant love looked like a week of bickering, because it was worth the the weekend's boombox apology. i thought quiet love was boring. i thought love had to blot out everything, compel the body and the mind like puppetry. i thought love looks like ruining your own dinner table - but at least you set a feast.

but love looks like a scarf. your hands smoothing it down my chest, being sure each of the edges are tucked in, worried about my asthma attacks being cold-activated. i race you while i'm wearing heels, you hold my hand to guide me downhill while walking my dog. we dance in my living room to waltz of the flowers, i show you how to hold your arms in proper ballet port de bras. you write a song about looking out of my window while the snow falls. i ask you to text my friends back while i'm driving. you play dj in the front seat. somewhere on route 93, we start murmuring about secret things.

oh. there is a difference between peace and dispassion. it was never that i feared quiet, it's that i didn't know what safe felt like. i liked the chaos because it was familiar, not because it was kind. i think i used to fear the word wife. i didn't like the idea of long, lonely days and being yelled at for small things. i didn't like the idea of sacrificing my one beautiful life.

you meet my friends and make a point to learn things about them. we both get excited about the other person's passions. you read my book for hours, squinting at the small words. i try to understand basic guitar information. we talk for four hours on the phone while i string together a garland. we talk for six hours while you write a poem. i save a pintrest tip for the summer about making paper kites. i plan us a week-long trip to maine, map out my favorite places for an eventual hike. you fall asleep on the ride home, and i turn down the radio so it won't wake you up. your quiet hands fold over mine.

when i look up, the stars are brighter. how carefully you've woven gold into the corners of my life. when i move, i feel some part of my soul reflected back onto you.

oh, love is not a net. it's a blanket.

[gogogodzilla]

Leave the Light On

mike schmidt x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, continuation of this post, panty sniffing, semi-public masturbation, sex tape, consensual somnophilia part 1 ✩ part 3 ✩ main masterlist ✩ read on ao3 ✩

As soon as he awoke, he knew something had happened. His thighs and groin were covered in the sticky remnants of cum and his briefs were skewed. You’d made good on your promise, and excitement hummed under his skin at the thought. 

He was more confident that you’d taken him up on the offer when he looked in the mirror and saw the hickies coating his neck and chest. His eyes widened and his cheeks flushed as he took in the marks. 

He slid on the jeans you had set neatly on the edge of his bed and opted for a hoodie that would cover most of the marks you’d left. He definitely didn’t need Abby asking how he got them. 

His ears perked up at the sound of you coming in through the front door accompanied by hurried footsteps. Abby was talking excitedly about something and you commented here or there. 

He’d entered the kitchen, and your eyes lit up at his appearance. You gave him a devilish grin as you sat at the kitchen table, listening to Abby as she talked. 

The rest of the evening was spent with lingering glances and fleeting touches. He wanted to ruin you as soon as the two of you were alone, but you kept him at arm's length. You led him into the kitchen and retrieved something off the counter.

You handed him a paper bag, “I made you lunch. Dinner, maybe?” He nodded and went to open the bag to inspect its contents. You grabbed his wrist. “Just wait until you get to work, okay?” 

“You’re asking me to be very patient tonight,” he pointed out, sliding a hand around your waist. 

You pecked his lips and pulled him closer, “It’s worth it. Promise.” 

Once it was time for him to leave, you held the door for him and walked him to his car. You had that grin that told him you were up to no good. 

“I hope you enjoy your lunch,” you mentioned as he reached the driver’s side door. 

His eyes flicked to the paper bag clutched in his hand and back to the grin that danced across your lips. Slowly, he started to put the pieces together, and excitement mixed with something else stirred in his belly. He gave you a quick peck on your cheek and yanked open the door to his car, suddenly eager to get to work. 

He kept an iron grip on the wheel for the entirety of his drive. The paper bag sat in the passenger seat, taunting him. He was glad he was the only one in the parking lot as he haphazardly whipped his car into a spot. 

His legs moved almost as quickly as his thoughts as he entered the pizzeria. His footsteps echoed throughout the hallway as he walked toward his office. A small part of him felt embarrassed that he was so excited to see whatever was in the bag.

He forced his breathing to steady as he entered his office. Mike didn’t pride himself on being a patient man, but he figured whatever was in that bag would definitely be worth the wait. He leisurely went through the motions of his nighttime routine, checking the security cameras and making sure all the animatronics were in their correct spots. He’d hoped they would leave him alone just long enough for him to open his gift. 

Finally, he settled into his rolling chair with the paper bag in his lap. He prayed he wasn’t getting his hopes up for a sandwich.  He gingerly opened it and peeked inside. Nestled neatly among the contents of the bag was a VHS tape. His heart rate quickened as he pulled it out and read the label on the front. ‘For Mike’ was scribbled in your neat scrawl and hearts were scattered along the label. 

His hands shook slightly as he ejected the training tape from the player and slid yours in. The TV came to life and it took him a moment to figure out what he was looking at. His eyes widened when he realized he was watching himself sleep. Midday light was shining through his window, and you were grinning as you stepped into the frame. 

You were wearing a pair of sweatpants and one of his hoodies; his cock jumped in his jeans from just that alone. Such a simple sign of ownership had his breath catching in his throat as he continued to watch. You made a show of stripping for him. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your sweatpants and slowly tugged them down your legs. You’d taken your underwear off at the same time as your sweatpants, wasting no time in baring yourself to him. 

You had that same grin that he loved as you bent down to pick up something off the floor, giving the camera the perfect view of your ass. He felt like he was about to burst as you lifted his pants and, with a flourish, tucked your underwear into the front pocket. 

He frantically patted the front of his pants and reached inside each pocket. He released a sigh as his fingers wrapped around the lacy fabric of your panties. He pulled them out of his pocket and brought them to his nose, breathing in your scent. 

His cock pressed uncomfortably against his jeans as he watched you take your hoodie off, revealing that you wore nothing underneath it. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you as your fingers danced across your chest. He leaned back in his chair, your panties clutched in one hand while the other worked to free his cock from his jeans. 

His fingers were clumsy as he unbuttoned his jeans and yanked down his zipper. He slipped his hand past the waistband of his briefs and gasped as he finally slid a hand over his length. He watched as you caressed his thighs before moving to finally touch him. 

He tugged his briefs down and under his balls, just like you did on the tape. Your actions were gentle but precise as you stroked him. He matched your pace perfectly. Your eyebrows knitted together in concentration as you slid your hand over his aching cock. 

You pulled away, and Mike halted his own movements, a low whine escaping him. His cock jumped in his hand when you wrapped your plush lips around his cock. He swiped his thumb over the tip of his cock, matching the seductive way your tongue swirled around it.  Your position in front of the camera allowed him to see every minute detail of you bobbing your head around him, and he could already feel the familiar coil tightening in his abdomen. 

A strangled sigh escaped his lips as you drew back with a wet pop. You darted your tongue out to taste him across your lips. A shiver went up his spine at your actions. You were careful as you straddled him and drug your core against him. 

He moaned along with you as you lowered yourself onto his cock. He was slightly surprised he didn’t wake up with you above him whining like that. A part of him wished he did wake up, so he could’ve fucked you properly. 

He planted his feet and rutted his hips into his fist as he watched you create the marks he now donned. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled his small office, and every inch of his skin burned with desire. 

He took your panties and slid them across his cock, moaning as the lacy fabric drug against his flushed skin. The feeling mixed deliciously with the smoothness of his palm, and his back arched against the chair. His jaw went slack, each breath punctuated with a needy moan and a thrust of his hips. 

With a strangled cry, he was cumming, eyes glued to your form as you fell apart on his cock. The pretty little whines you were making were going to be seared into his mind for as long as he lived. The white strings of his release covered your panties with some dripping down his fist and across his knuckles. 

He used your panties to clean up the mess he made. His cheeks flushed as the lace smeared his release over his cock. He prayed you’d leave the light on for him.  

[whateveriwant]

might I request how tf 141 tries to turn you on maybe? Sorry kind of a weird request you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to ;-;

Not a weird request at all, anon! Hope you enjoy! 18+ only, GN!Reader

Price

Three words: full body massage

That man loves to get his hands on you, and it doesn’t even have to be sexual in nature, honestly. Any opportunity to touch you, to caress you, to help ease the tension from your body, he’ll gladly take it (and if afterwards you’ll let him ease himself into you, well, that’s just an added bonus 😉)

He might use special rollers or electric massagers sometimes, but mostly he just sticks to those big, strong hands of his

He'll start by slicking up his palms with some oil, warming it up before he applies it to your skin

Beginning with your shoulders, he’ll slowly work his way down your body, paying special attention to the areas you need most targeted

Aside from those tender spots, he’ll also be sure to focus on a few of your more erogenous zones, namely your thighs and your ass (he's an ass man for sure)

By the time he's finished, you're all supple and pliant before him, but there’s something else too – a sort of warm, fluttery feeling in your gut

Luckily, he knows just the remedy for that sensation. And oh! Would you look at that? You're already in his favorite position: prone

Ghost

We all know he tends to be a man of few words, and this applies to every environment he finds himself in

…At least, every environment outside the bedroom, that is

Because when he's in the mood, you best hold on tight to your pants if you don't want them flying off from how he talks to you (but, I guess, your pants coming off is his end goal anyway)

You'll just be going about your day, minding your business, when you'll get a call from him while he’s “busy” at work

He'll start off casual at first, inquiring about your day, your plans for the night, etc., but it won't take long for the conversation to steer to the real reason for his call: to describe the way he's going to fuck you when he gets home

He'll go into excruciating, toe curling detail about all the things he's going to do to you; just how good he’s going to fuck you until you forget your own name

I hope you're not in public when you take his call, otherwise you better have the poker face of a lifetime if you don't want to make a scene in front of several dozens of witnesses

Gaz

He's a big romantic at heart, so rather than just going straight for the bedroom, he'll slowly work his way up to it over the course of the evening

First, he'll treat you to a nice dinner – either by cooking it himself or by taking you to that fancy restaurant you love but think is much too expensive for every day dining

Beneath dimmed, romantic lighting, together you'll share a delicious meal, a glass or two of wine, and of course a tasty dessert to cap it all off

The conversation will be light and pleasant (nothing unbecoming whatsoever), but while he might not outright voice the plans he has for you later in the night, that look he keeps giving you from across the table speaks volumes

When you’ve finished your meal and gradually made your way back home/to the bedroom, even then he still isn't done buttering you up just yet

He'll put on some slow music, maybe light a couple candles to really set the mood, even draw you both a bath if you're feeling up to it

Once he does finally take you to bed, it'll be a seamless transition from an evening overflowing with desire and passion

Soap

‘Subtlety’ is not really a word in his vocabulary, so most of the time when he's horny, he's just turning to you and asking if you want to fuck

However, sometimes when you need a little more build up than that, he has a few tried and true methods he knows will work you up

He'll change so that he’s walking around your flat wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. Wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, mind you

Whilst wearing said sweatpants, he'll proceed to stretch and flex around you, showing off all those muscles he knows you love, as well as highlighting a few other assets he knows drives you crazy (i.e. bulge printtttt 😍)

He'll then get really touchy with you, starting innocent at first – brushing an eyelash from your cheek, straightening the neck of your shirt – before he gets more and more brazen with his petting

And when he's real close like that, leaning right into your ear, he’ll mutter soft praises to you: telling you how beautiful you look, how good you smell, how soft your skin is where he’s touching just there

By the time he finally goes to ask if you want to have sex, he doesn't even get the words out before you're jumping him like a wild animal. All according to plan…

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  

[eroselless]

LAY UR HANDS ON ME

Summary: You and Lando have been friends for years, dancing around your feelings and avoiding the tension between the two of you. What happens when there's only one spot left in the car? [1.7k]

[lando norris x reader ]

MASTERLIST | Part 2 - I LIKE THE WAY YOU KISS ME

Warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut, sorta dry humping, light fingering and cursing. If there's any I missed let me know!

Note: as the poets say, i’m a slut for Lando <3 

I was inspired by this tik tok and this fic by uluvjay

Anywaaays, let me know if I should do a part twooo

Lando's eyes can't help but wander over your figure as you sit next to him at dinner. His gaze traces the curves of your body accentuated by the dress you mentioned to him just the week before. The fabric clings to your body in all the right places, exuding an allure that is both captivating and refined. He notices how the colour of the fabric makes your eyes look brighter and emphasizes the features of your body that he always finds himself drawn to. You look completely at ease in your chair, a half-empty glass of wine dangling casually from your fingertips.

He's pulled from his thoughts by a voice across the table. "What's the plan?" Carlos inquires, his hands clasped together in front of him as he gazes out at Lando. He blinks, processing what his ex-teammate just asked him. He hesitates for a second.

"I think I'm ready to head back to the hotel," he replies, meeting your eyes briefly for confirmation. You nod in agreement, your silent support bolstering his decision. A chorus of voices clamours at you, George, Alex, and Pierre opting to go out for a few more drinks and dancing. You shake your head, swirling the glass in your fingers.

"I think I'll head back too," you say, setting the glass down with a decisive clink. Max nods in agreement, Pietra clinging to his arm as they prepare to leave as well. You all begin to file out, congregating in the foyer of the restaurant for some quick goodbyes.

Lily wraps her arms around you in a farewell embrace, a pout evident on her face as she whispers promises of future hangouts before hurrying to rejoin her awaiting boyfriend. Alex gives you a wave from afar, a gentle smile playing at the corner of his lips, and they join the rest of the group as they make their way towards their car.

You walk out, trailing close behind Lando. Your hand is tucked into the pocket of his blazer jacket, a silent yet comforting gesture that keeps you near him. The air is filled with conversations as you make your way to the car that awaits you. Everyone begins to pile into it, Max taking his place behind the wheel with Pietra by his side while Carlos sits in the back with Charles.

"Oh, shit—" you hear Lando mutter suddenly as he scans the remaining space. There's only one spot left in the car, next to Carlos. With a slight grimace, you watch as he waves his hand in the air as if to say, no mind that. Lando takes his place next to his friend, ushering you into the car as well. Your eyebrows furrow together as he gestures for you to climb in his lap.

You hesitantly sit down, pulling the door closed behind you. You had always been rather close to Lando, even going past the confines of friendship, blurring the lines. You'd always be stealing his clothes, his t-shirt, sweatpants, sweaters. He'd always find comfort in your body heat, curling up at your side to sleep or have a cuddle. You were essentially attached at the hip.

You'd grown accustomed to the flashes of cameras and the photos circling online on social media. Often, people would question if you were dating, but the answer would always remain the same—no. Not that either of you didn't want to, but you'd been friends for a few years, and Lando intended to keep you by his side as long as he could. He prioritized your bond over potentially complicating things by introducing romance to the mix.

This feels like entirely new territory, sitting in his lap with his hands hovering above your thighs, the faint scent of your perfume teasing his senses as you settle in. He can't help but feel a flutter of excitement surge through him. If you leaned back, he feared you'd be able to feel the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat underneath the layers of muscle that encase his chest.

As you lean forward to grasp the seat in front of you, Lando can feel his breath catch in his throat as he becomes hyper-fixated on your movements. He can't help but bite his lip as a flush rises to his cheeks, struggling to take his eyes away from where your figure is nestled in his lap. The softness of your touch sears through him.

His eyes dart nervously to Carlos, hoping to find some reprieve from the intense feelings brewing in him. The Spaniard raises an eyebrow at him in silent amusement, a smirk playing on his lips before turning back to Charles and resuming their conversation. With a gentle shake of his head, Lando tears his gaze away, opting to watch the lights go by outside.

He watches as the pavement gradually gives way to rougher terrain beneath the car’s tires, signaling the road to their hotel nestled on the outskirts of the city. Max turns the music up, trying to muffle the crunch of the wheels on the gravel. The transition is palpable, the rumbling of the road sending vibrations through the vehicle. Your position suddenly feels uncomfortable and you begin to shift in your spot, momentarily forgetting that he can feel your every move.

A sudden bump jostles you from your spot and you can feel Lando’s hands tighten slightly over your skin. You try your best to stay still, only shifting again when the car goes over another bump. A whispered plea cuts through the tense air, sending a tingle down your spine.

“Please stop moving.” he murmurs, voice strained. The heat that spreads through you only intensifies as you feel his grip on you tighten, your hands clenching onto Pietra’s seat in response.

“Sorry,” you whisper back, trying to sound as sincere as you can, to sound like you weren’t thinking about how hard he was beginning to feel under you. Lando’s fingers press harder into your thighs. The bumps keep coming and you struggle to keep from moving. The air around you feels as if it's getting hotter as you continue to move against him. Next to you, Carlos and Charles are dozed off, completely unaware of the tension rising just next to them.

You can feel Lando breathing down your back, having placed his forehead at the nape of your neck. It sends a shiver down your spine, right to your core. He’s breathing in your scent, burying his nose in your skin. His breath is coming out in broken fragments as he struggles to keep it under control. His fingers are now fanned out on your thighs, just inches from the hem of your dress. He’s almost tempted to slip his fingers under it. He bites down on his lip, a futile attempt to hide how much he’s enjoying the moment. The bumps in the road continue to make his heart pound, freezing his hands in place.

Desperate for some relief, he tries to lean back into the seat. The ache building in his cock is almost unbearable. He pushes his hips forward, inadvertently bucking them up and now it's your turn to try to keep quiet. You feel yourself hang off of the seat in front of you, back arching slightly.

His gaze is now trained on the curve of your ass in his lap and he can't help the sigh that falls from his lips. He so badly wants to surrender himself to the allure of the moment, so many years of yearning for you building up to this very night. 

You reach a hand down to grab one of his, intertwining your fingers in a silent plea for more. You feel as if you are skating on thin ice as you encourage his hand to move under your dress. A gasp threatens to make its way past your lips as he follows your lead and dips a hand between your legs. Pushing your knees out ever so slightly, his fingers delve deeper, and you find yourself teetering toward the edge of ecstasy.

You both begin to shift in time, the pad of his thumb just barely pressing into the button of your clit and your ass rubbing perfectly against his cock. With each subtle movement, your senses ignite, the friction sending waves of pleasure rippling through the both of you.

“Oh god…” Lando’s voice is a mere whisper, hardly reaching your ears over the hum of the car and pounding of the music. His fingers move in slow circles, you feel as if the pleasure could consume you whole. With every flicker, your teeth dig harder into your lip, and you swear you could draw blood.

You can see the hotel lights from here, light seeping into the car. Panic sets in as you freeze in the seat, hands and hips coming to a complete halt. You can feel Lando shaking underneath you, his cheeks a bright pink. His chest is heaving as he tries to take shallow and quiet breaths. You each try to compose yourselves and you lean back in his lap, pulling his hands out from the fabric of your dress.

The tension in the air is palpable as the car comes to a stop, Max putting it in park and announcing to the sleeping men that you’ve arrived. You bite your lip at the innuendo that goes over everyone’s heads. Not quite, Max.

Lando’s hands take their spot on your thighs again, just as they were at the beginning of the ride. They stick slightly to your exposed skin, a testament to the desire that simmers between the two of you. You can see them twitch as if they’re still itching for more. He smiles weakly at you as you step out of the car, blaming the tight confines of the car for your flushed cheeks.

You don't miss how he gingerly sticks the pads of his fingers in his mouth or how he shoves his hands into his pockets, adjusting his pants as he does so. You blink away the last of the haze in your eyes as you quickly and quietly follow him up to your shared hotel room.