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arieslost · 3 days

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ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with

anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔

1:30 am | ln4

you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.

“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”

“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.

something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.

now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.

which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.

“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.

“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.

“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”

“yeah, if you want me to.”

“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.

you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”

“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”

“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.

“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”

he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”

“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”

“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.

“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.

“stop laughing then!”

“you stop!”

naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.

“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.

“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”

“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.

a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.

“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”

“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.

“ooh, lemme feel.”

“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”

“not my fault you’re weird and british.”

“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”

“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”

he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”

you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”

you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.

word count: 790

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo

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pierregazly · 18 hours

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thinkin' bout you ꨄ lando norris

lando norris x reader

warnings: smut (18+ only), soft!dom lando, a little bit of degradation, lando is a tease [968 words]

request: 🌶 44. “I saw you naked once. And now I can’t stop thinking about it.” Best friend Lando

note: loved this!! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

The groans filled the silence in the room, his body pressed tight against yours, his lips peppering kisses up and down your neck. Your own sighs floating in conjunction with the noises emitting from his body, sweat dripping down your neck as you tilted your head back, desperate for the feeling of his lips pressed against your skin.

He knew the exact spots to kiss; the exact spots to scrap his teeth against, to drag his tongue across. One night together, and it felt like he knew your body like the back of his hand. The sighs and whimpers leaving your mouth just simply egged him on, encouraging him. In a sense, teaching him without words.

His grip on your hips never wavered, tightening with every press of his lower body against yours. The tent in his pants so evident, so apparent how you were making him feel, the way his inner conscious wanted you.

“God, the fucking things y’do to me,” he whispered, his teeth tugging at the lobe of your ear as he pulled away to look in your eyes.

His pupils were blown out, his lips red and angry, the small bite marks from your own teeth obvious and inflamed on his neck. Sweat gathered at the top of his forehead, his face flushed.

Lando Norris looked properly aroused. Like one touch of your hand, or your mouth, to the spot he was craving you so desperately; and he would blow.

It made you want to push yourself closer to him, drop down to your knees and tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, beg him to give you what you’ve been yearning for all night long. But you couldn’t break, not that easily.

You had told him more than once you weren’t here to sleep with him, weren’t here to give him what you knew he wanted. But he knew you like he knew himself, knew exactly what made you tick, knew exactly what would get you going, and keep you running.

His hand resumed its place on your waist, pulling you closer to his body, his lips hovering over yours. You could feel the puffs of breath leaving his mouth, the heat emitting from his body prompting a sweat to break out on your own.

“Y’know, I saw you naked once… and I can’t stop thinking about it,” the grip on your waist tightened, as his lips pressed up your cheek towards your ear.

“Every time I touch my cock, I think about how your pussy wrapped around it. Fuck, I think about those pretty lips of yours wrapped around it, the way you were practically begging for me to cum down your throat. Such a little slut then, weren’t you?”

You felt yourself practically melting at his words, your core pulsing as the pit in your stomach grew. The desire for him growing more and more with every word that dropped from his mouth. It was hard to deny that it wasn’t the same for you, he was all you could think about, all your body desired late at night when moans filtered into the air.

“Why haven’t y’got me naked yet then, Lan? Calling me all this dirty names, but can’t even get me ready, hm?” Taunting him, you waited for the inevitable reaction.

What you weren’t expecting was for him to spin you around, pressing the front of your body up against the wall, your back pressed harshly against his front. You could feel everything about him so much better at this angle, the hardened length still covered by his sweats pressed against your behind, prompting you to grind back into him.

“God, you’re just begging for me to bend you over, aren’t you? Begging for me to tug down these shorts and see how soaked you are, cause I know you’re just dripping for me. So dirty, darling.”

Shuddering at his words, he knew he had you in the palm of his hand when no witty response fell from your lips.

“Y’gonna get naked for me now, pretty girl? Or do I have to do all the work around here?” He tugged on the bottom of your shirt, gesturing for you to lift your arms so he could remove the piece of clothing from your body.

With your back still pressed against his front, you felt your nipples harden from the cold air. Lando’s hands ghosting up your body until he had both in his palms, his fingers gently pinching and tugging at the pebbled buds.

“Been thinking about these every night, my tongue swirling around them in my dreams has woken me up more nights than I care to admit,” he murmured in your ear, an extra pinch to one causing a gasp to fall from your lips.

“Bet if I stuck my hand inside these shorts of yours, m’fingers would come back soaked - wouldn’t they? Answer me,” he enunciated his demand with an extra pinch of his fingers, your back arching into him.

You reluctantly nodded your head, the need coursing through your body overpowering the stubbornness to keep him at bay.

“Use your words, baby,” his hand began to stroke down your stomach, thumbing at the waistband of your shorts before dipping inside.

“Please, Lan. I need you, so bad. I’m so wet for you.”

The words spurred him on, his hand pushing all the way inside your shorts, running a single digit through your wet heat. It didn’t stay there long, his hand leaving your shorts only seconds later, a whine falling from your lips as they did.

You turned to watch him bring the finger up to his lips, sucking off the wetness that coated them.

“Think it’s time for you to get on the bed, baby. I need to see you naked, now.”

this is like BARELY smut but it's still naughty!!! so it still counts!! hope y'all love it

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machiavellli · 3 days

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Possessive!Theo that one night gets completely filled with anger as he sees you dancing with someone else at a party and simply starts shouting things in Italian you can’t comprehend. He slams you at the wall, his face only millimetres away from you, his gaze dark, his words bitter and your hands pressed up. His hot breath against the frigid wall. The maniac appearance looks so good on him.

“Che cazzo pensavi di fare? Tieni ancora almeno due cazzo di neuroni eh?” he bawled pointing at my head with disgust, but I kept my mouth shut.

My silence only made him angrier, and as I started to lower my gaze, he grabbed my face with one of his hands. The other hand harshly slammed against the stone wall behind me.

“Look at me. Dammi. Na. Cazzo. Di. Risposta.”

“Porca puttanta.” the hand slammed again.

“Ti corromperò fino al punto di farti piangere. Oh tesoro mio, piangerai lacrime amare pregando inutilmente che io smetta. Sei mia. La gentilezza è na cosa finita. Do you understand? Cazzo vaf-” Those were the last words he heavily shouted before kissing me with pure burning lust. Definitely the start of a great night.

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lynnielovestlou · 3 days

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imagine u and abby at a family gathering. there's no seats so you ofc have to sit on her lap. her hands are always on your hips, making sure you don't stand up. her big, juicy muscles flex every time they squeeze you, and you can feel every crevice of her chest against your back. she's so warm that you wish you could rotate around on her like a gas station hot dog. that's it. that's all i wanted to say. sitting on abby's lap. okay bye.

#lynnielovestlou #lesbian #the last of us #queer #fanfiction #fanfic #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #lesbian smut #abby x you #imagine #fanfic imagine #blurb #tlou 2 #tlou #abby tlou #tlou abby #wlw #sapphic

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ashyllum · 9 hours

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Preening Sunday's wings! I repeat, preening Sunday's wings!!

Mr. Know it all (his words not mine), is a man of modesty, so little actions like this are what help build up your bond together in the starting stages of your relationship. It's such a sweet gesture of care and trust, and a privilege only you, his lover, and his dear sis get.

He's just a lil birb!

#fluff #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #hsr sunday #honkai star rail #sunday #honkai star rail x reader #sunday x reader #blurb

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sanguineterrain · 2 days

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Hey! Can I request a Clark x reader where they're dating but reader doesn't know Clark is superman. And then superman interacts with them for whatever reason and is flirty bc that's his person!!! But reader is like ☝️ hey buddy back off. I'm HAPPILY taken

this is such a cute request!!!! Argh!!!!

clark kent/superman x gn!reader. fluff, brief danger but r is okay. superman flirting with you but he's dating you? he's just a goober. i lub him <3 PLEASE feel free to imagine maws!clark. I feel like this is very himcore 🥰

****

Being a florist in Metropolis is good work. Lots of people still buy flowers, which is great. Many actually buy bouquets for Superman and leave them on display as support. Poppies, yellow tulips, and cornflowers. They're one of your favorite arrangements.

The downside to being a florist in Metropolis, however, is that on occasion, your flower display ends up the target of a killer robot.

You're not sure why that is. Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots.

You've gone outside to see what the commotion is about when you're grabbed by a metal claw. It squeezes hard, almost cutting off your air. You squirm in terror as the robot stomps down Main Street, crushing cars and asphalt in its wake.

"Help!" you scream when you catch your breath, and the robot squeezes you harder.

A dizzying blur of red, yellow, and blue zips past you. You think of your flowers.

The blur cuts through the metal like nothing. The robot begins to collapse, twitching and groaning. Its metal creaks, grip loosening on your body.

You hardly fall before Superman is there, cradling you to his chest.

"I've got you," he says, tucking you close.

You look up at him, and he beams at you, like saving you from a killer robot has been the best part of his day.

Come to think of it, Superman came to your aid surprisingly fast, even for him.

And he holds you... intimately. Like you've known him for years. Your heart picks up.

"Uh," he says, cheeks flushed. "Are–are you okay?"

You smile politely, arms around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Superman."

He nods, flying down the street. "Good. I'll get you back to your shop and clean up the flowers."

You tilt your head. "How do you know I'm a florist?"

Superman looks at you, blue eyes wide.

"Oh! I... uh, I've seen your arrangements all over the city. They're beautiful. I'd never forget that they belong to an equally beautiful face."

Goodness. If Superman is this forward with everyone he rescues, it's no wonder your flower arrangements are in high demand.

"I'm flattered," you begin, and Superman once again aims that grin with the power of a thousand suns at you. "But, respectfully, I'm very happily taken, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep this rescue professional."

Superman raises an eyebrow. To your surprise, he smiles wider.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't realize you were taken. My sincerest apologies. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's alright. I'm honored, but you couldn't pull me away from my boyfriend even with your super strength."

Superman's cheeks turn pinker. He sets you down in front of your store with the utmost care, not letting go until you have your bearings. He takes a step back, rubbing his neck. The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why.

"Well, uh, he must've done something right if he's lucky enough to be with you."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," you say fiercely. You don't know why you're so indignant about defending Clark's reputation to Superman. It's not like Clark will ever hear about it.

"No?"

"Not at all. He's an incredible person, kind and smart and loving, and if anyone's lucky, it's me."

Superman makes an aborted gesture to take your hand, then redirects and awkwardly pats your arm instead. You squint at him. He quickly moves away.

"Ah. Sorry. Well, I doubt that. I bet you're equally spectacular."

"Oh. Thank you."

You primly take his hand and give it a good shake. Superman bows his head and laughs.

He takes a step back, eyes bright like you've just made his day.

"Well, I wish you the best with your boyfriend. I'm sorry for being so forward. I've seen your Superman bouquets; your reputation precedes you. I make it a point to know reputed people in Metropolis."

"I can't imagine I'm very high on that list," you say.

"Ah, you'd be surprised. Besides, I never forget a face."

Superman darts behind you and moves at neckbreaking speed to clean up your partially maimed flowers. In three seconds, it's returned to its former glory.

"Well, uh, I'll be seeing you," Superman says, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, I hope not in a circumstance like this! Th-then again, when else would we see each other? Scratch that, I hope there's no reason for us to cross paths because that would mean you're in danger. Uh, but I don't mean that in a bad way! I just—"

You snort and reach over to take a yellow tulip from your display. You give it to Superman, who takes it like you've just handed him a newborn baby.

"I'm still taken," you say. "But you're very sweet, Superman. Take care, alright?"

"Yeah," he says, tucking the tulip into the strap of his cape. "Yes, you too. Goodbye!"

He soars away, the tulip like a star on his cape.

Superman is handsome and kind, no doubt. But he's certainly no Clark Kent.

#clark kent x reader #superman x reader #superman x you #clark kent x you #clark kent imagine #superman imagine #clark kent fanfiction #superman fanfiction #dc imagine #dc fanfic #dc x you #inbox #blurb

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flor4de4amor · 14 hours

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im so in love w abby's back.

click here to support palestine!

read before engaging w my work + acc

the way her spin curves and curls. her big broad shoulders that she's worked hard to get. she always sleeps topless, opting to shed that evil sports bra, which hides her pretty chest. allowing you to press kisses to her bare freckled back. waking her up to your soft mewls against her. she grunts softly to the light hitting her face. you giggle seeing that she's now awake.

"fan club's opted to greet me this morning huh?" she turns her head looking at you with that stupid little smirk on her face. you're tempted to kiss it off, if she hadn't called you a fan.

"something or the other." you smile at her, laying your head against her lower back. the dip where here spin curves and melts into her ass.

"sleep alright baby?" she asks, her hand coming to find yours and interlacing them together.

you nod, stroking your thumb over the rough calluses of her palm. "dreamt of you," you tease cheekily.

"nothing too naughty i'd hope," she matches your playful tone. her messy braid falling over her face, though her smile is still wide and bright.

"come look in my panties and check." you threaten her with a wink, grin devouring your face.

"oh," abby heaves. "that's how it is baby?" she suppresses a grin, as she begins to maneuver herself off her front, so she can come check those pretty panties of yours.

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mimixmunson · 21 hours

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Steve and Eddie must have found it so hard to love each other at first. How could they find it easy when their own parents never showed them love. In the sense of parents loving their sons and loving each other.

To Steve, all he’d seen from love was how lonely and miserable it could be. Love was an empty house, it had all the basic needs but nothing soft, nothing affectionate. He’d never known a touch so gentle until Nancy, but nothing gave him butterflies until Eddie held his hand for the first time.

To Eddie, love was violence, until Wayne at least. Love was bruises and not from kissing too hard, it was weeping in the corner of his room after he barricaded his door closed.

So love came slowly, with gentle tracing of each other’s skin. Lighting Eddie’s joint and running his hand through his curls. Lending Steve shirts that were never going to be his style but smelt so distinctly of Eddie. Feeding each other dinners and waking up to the smell of coffee just the way they liked it.

Just because their parents were incapable of doing anything out of love, didn’t mean they couldn’t learn how to love correctly. It took learning to trust, learning not to flinch at raised hands that only wanted to caress cheeks.

It took each other.

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lottiecrabie · 17 hours

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itll be you and me and this idea forever babe.. we might be alone but we Understand🤞

what if it wasn’t just us… 😌🙂‍↕️ and it entered the world through the miraculous art form that is writing by tumblr dot com user lottiecrabie 😌🙂‍↕️😏 (even just a crumblet)

for you my psychic linked sister. a little Crumb🫶

the saxophones and trumpets ring through the ballroom. the repetitive steps and roaring laughs mix through, skisloping off the kicks and twists of the t-strap shoes. the champagne flows out into a series of coupes and you grab one, spilling it on the side. you down a mouthful with a grin, still light and happy from the spinning dance you just twirled out of.

sweat sticks your headache band to your forehead. you fix up the feather. you fish a cigarette out of the emerald elephant dispenser, placing it between your ruby red lips. your eyes scan for a lighter next.

‘enjoying yourself?’ your ears perk up at the sound of his husky voice. you smirk, turning around to find detective healy.

with his modest trench coat and permanently gloomy predilection, he sticks out like a sore thumb amidst the decadent decor. it’s always a little funny to see him around such open fun, like he’s meant to exist in dark, cold alleys, frowning over a body. still, he looks handsome, dark and broody, with his sober eyes and his wild flowing hair.

you pull the cigarette from your lips with a smile. you shrug, crooning, ‘why, it’s a lovely night.’ healy searches the inside of his trench coat. ‘what about you? not too joyful for mr. grumps?’

he shakes his head, though a grin still teases his lips. he draws a lighter out. you lean closer to him, hanging the cigarette off your lips again. he flicks once, lighting up the tip. you exhale out the smoke, but stay near him. he smells like cedar and whiskey, like nights toasting after murders successfully solved.

healy gives you a look, shoving his lighter back in his trench coat. ‘what are you doing here, trouble?’

‘can’t a woman enjoy a soirée? my, if i was like you, i’d be locked up in my house all year round.’

‘you’d be safer for it.’

you smile, mischievous. ‘and your life much, much less fun.’ healy gives you a onceover, trailing on your uncovered legs. you take a sip of your champagne, drawing attention to your lips next. you give him a faux-innocent look, singsonging, ‘you know, mister briggs is an excellent charleston dancer.’

healy groans, rubbing his eyebrows. ‘tell me you didn’t dance with a murder suspect.’

you up your nose. ‘well, if you don’t want to know, then i guess i won’t share what he said.’ you whip around, taking two steps before a strong hand wraps around your arm.

you don’t even bother hiding your smirk before turning around. healy gives you a somber look, demanding, ‘spill.’ the tone of his voice sizzles down your spine.

‘is this a shakedown?’ his jaw ticks. a crystalline voice spills from your lips. ‘you’re cute when you’re annoyed.’

‘then i must be ravishing every time i’m in your company.’

your eyes spark. ‘oh, yes, you are, detective.’ healy swallows thickly, dropping his hand from your hand as if burned. you cock your head, tension still fizzling. ‘promise me a dance and i’ll tell you.’

‘a dance?’

‘oh, you do know a foxtrot, don’t you, detective healy?’

his stare burns. ‘fine.’

you hum, turning to look at the roaring party. ‘mister briggs has a lovely summer home in brighton. he loves to entertain his most favorite guests there. why, he just invited me,’ you catch briggs chatting up a young lady, brushing the pearl on her ear. you sigh regrettably, ‘but i’m afraid the cold sea air doesn’t agree with my predilection.’

‘brighton. where francesca would visit every month.’

‘oh yes,’ you throw him a look. your shoulders up excitedly. ‘francesca and mister briggs were having an affair. how scandalous.’

he grins and, oh, this might be your favorite look of his. rare but dazzling, shining over his face. he says, ‘that’s motive.’

you tsk. ‘and you didn’t even want me to dance.’ he opens his mouth to protest, but you’re too quick. your throw your coupe on the table, discarding your smoke on the elephant head. you grab his hand, cutting him off, tugging him to the dancefloor. ‘come on, you owe me one.’

‘there’s a murder suspect at large.’

‘oh, please,’ you halt in the middle of the floor; your hand on his shoulder, his finding home on your waist— no matter his protests. the touch is electric, burning through your dress. you feel wired. ‘he’s not going anywhere. this is the soirée of month, after all.’

matty sighs resignedly. languid jazz plays. he takes a first step, gliding across the floor. his moves are certain and precise. you follow his rhythm, pushing and pulling at his guidance. detective healy is a good dancer. what an interesting new morsel of information.

in the crook of your ear, healy whispers, ‘one day, all this frolicking with trouble will really get you in deep waters, darling.’

you lean back enough to meet his eyes. ‘then it’s lucky you’ll be there to save me, isn’t it, detective?’

#i fear this will still be just us but Oh what a fun idea still #blurb #detective!au #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #ask

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chestharrington · 2 days

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will you do a gator blurb of him driving you home drunk (and handsy) from a party 🤭🤭

ANYTHING FOR YOU MY QUEEN 🥹 and I even gave u little wattpadcore fake text messages awwww. Anyways this is very short sorry pookie

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, some sexual situations but no smut

~~~~~

Sat on a barstool and drinking vodka sprites like they were water, you should’ve known better than to open your phone. Over the course of fifteen minutes, you’d managed to text Gator thirty-five times— a colorful assortment of gibberish and the rare coherent sentence. You decided to throw one final Hail Mary with clumsy, drunken thumbs.

Well, it wasn’t your most poignant message of all time, but it certainly got the point across. After all, you’d gotten your fair share of ‘you up?’ and ‘showering without me?’ texts from him. Within a minute, he finally responded to your onslaught of texts.

Well, it wasn’t a no. You hopped down from the barstool, wobbling slightly, and pushed through the patrons to squeeze into the women’s bathroom. After a tiny wait, you convinced yourself this was absolutely the best choice. You locked the handicap stall and pulled out your phone, trying your best to find a decent angle.

With a clumsy hand, you tugged down your tank top and snapped a few quick photos of your tits, which you sent him without a second thought.

You managed to finish one last vodka sprite at the bar before your phone buzzed in your pocket. A one word text from Gator.

You closed out your tab and stumbled towards the car outside, wearing a stupid, giddy smile at the sight of Gator glowering in the driver’s seat. He unlocked the passenger side door and you practically fell inside with a drunken giggle.

“Knew you’d come,” you said, leaning in to brush your lips along his jaw. “Wanted you so bad all night, baby.”

He sighed in annoyance and pushed you back into your seat firmly before you could fully climb into his lap. You kept your eyes on his as he reached over to buckle you into the seat. A soft gasp escaped you as his hands brushed across your hips, holding you still as he fumbled with the belt.

“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ mess, you know that? You smell like a liquor store.” You let your hands wander, teasing him through his cargos while he made sure you were buckled properly. He groaned at the feeling, then glared down at you. You giggled as he grabbed your hands and placed them back into your own lap. “Just stay still, alright? Jesus Christ.”

You gave an exaggerated pout and crossed your arms. “You didn’t like my pictures?” When he didn’t respond, you gave an exaggerated sigh. He paused at the stoplight and you tapped his shoulder very politely. “Is this better?”

You lifted your top, flashing him for the briefest moment before he yanked your top back down himself. His expression remained so serious that it made a flurry of giggles escape you.

“You’re such a good officer, Gator,” you cooed, running your hand along his muscled biceps then across his chest where his scratchy vest was. “So responsible and serious. Lemme thank you, baby.” You moved your hand back to his lap, letting your pretty manicured fingers dance along his thigh.

“Nuh-uh. Don’t even try.” He didn’t even bother glancing in your direction, so you moved your hands obediently back to your lap. The light turned green and he practically floored it. Outside, the lights of downtown streaked by like comets— an entire light display just for you. But all you could do was stare at how fucking handsome he looked.

“You’re gorgeous,” you said with a wistful sigh. “Does anyone ever tell you that?” When he shook your head, a frown played at your lips. “Well, they should. You’re so handsome, baby.”

He sighed and gave you a sidelong glance., the corner of his mouth turning up just slightly. “You’re real needy right now, huh?”

You nodded, trying your best to give him big puppy dog eyes. He patted your thigh and leaned over to kiss your forehead at the next stop sign, which made giddiness course through your very being.

He parked in front of your house, and opened the car door like a gentleman. You were stumbling as you walked beside him up the cobblestone walkway, which was annoying because you were trying your very best to look completely sober.

He got you into bed with as little resistance as possible, which wasn’t saying much. You kept trying to feel him up while he was helping you into pajamas, so he eventually gave up and only took off your shoes and jeans. Then was brushing your teeth, which was worst of all.

But the plush of your mattress and blankets was like a siren call once you got in— eyes fluttering sleepily the second your head hit the pillow.

“C’mere—“ you whined, grabbing at the air in his general direction.

He sighed. “I told ya, I’ve got work.”

“Skip,” you insisted, giving him your best pout until he relented. You were grinning like an idiot as he shirked off his clothes and climbed in beside you— your own personal space heater. “Thank you,” you hummed, resting your head against his chest.

“Yeah, whatever,” he sighed. He could act as indifferent as he wanted, but it didn’t change the secret smile he wore once your eyes fluttered shut. He kissed the crown of your head, and shot off a text that an emergency came up that he had to take care of.

It was only mostly a lie, but he’d deal with that in the morning.

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman #blurb

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allisluv · 22 hours

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when i see finnick i want to bite him (affectionately) so ig how do you think hed react to a partner that will lightly nibble him out of nowhere

i just know finnick would find you even more cute for it. he’s so confused at first and he’ll be like “what are you doing honey?” but he is giggling when you hide your face in your hands. he soon realizes that it’s your way of showing affection—— after a while he actually gets worried when you don’t bite him lmao <3

#the hunger games #grace talks🐚🌷#thg #headcanons #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #hcs #fics #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x y/n #writers of tumblr #blurb #blurbs #fem!reader

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pierregazly · 3 days

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are you warm enough? ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x reader

warnings: reader has the flu, sad!reader over being sick [945 words]

request: Could I ask for a 💗 with Oscar and "Are you warm enough?" prompt?

note: oscar is def the type to take care of a sick partner?? i dont make the rules but it's true! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

It was inevitable it was going to hit you. It had struck through your entire workplace, through all your study groups. One by one, person by person, they were taken down. By a measly thing like the flu. You knew it was going to take you out, and you were going to hate every second of it.

Selfishly, you were hoping it would strike you the week Oscar was gone, not wanting to waste any of the short time that you did have with him by being confined to bed with a sickness that wouldn’t go away. Unluckily, just hours before his plane was scheduled to touchdown in Melbourne, you felt the tickle begin to climb in the back of your throat.

By the time Oscar’s bags were tossed through the front door of your apartment, you were curled up on the couch, a heated blanket over you while a half-empty cup of tea remained on the coffee table in front of you. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffed, your stomach was aching. You couldn’t keep any food down, and it felt like the apartment had hit negative temperatures in the few hours between waking up with a scratchy throat, and Oscar coming through the door.

“Honey, I’m home,” he singsonged, walking around the corner and stopping dead in his tracks when he observed your state.

You had told him about all the people who were getting sick at work, at school, about how you had been diligent about making sure you were washing your hands and keeping away from them. How you had told him how you didn’t want to ruin the little time the two of you were finally going to be able to spend together, so you were being extra careful.

Oscar felt the sympathy wash over him as he observed you peak out from underneath the blanket, a look of sadness etched around your face.

“Osc… you shouldn’t come close to me. I don’t want to get you sick, too,” you said.

Ignoring your words, Oscar moved closer to the couch before sitting down beside your sock-covered feet. He gently maneuvered them so they were placed over your lap, rubbing soothing circles on your now-exposed ankle.

“I’ll suffer if I have to. Can’t make you take care of yourself when you look like you might freeze to death if I even move this blanket.”

Just from the blanket simply touching his leg, he could feel the heat emitting off of it, the number ‘6’ displayed on the power screen, indicating it was at the highest level the blanket could reach.

“Do you want me to make you another tea? Maybe go pick up some soup? I can give my mum a call, see if she can make any and drop it off? Does that sound good?”

Your only response was a nod of your head at every question he threw at you, you weren’t one to ask for help when you were sick, always able to simply take care of yourself. But the idea of getting off the couch, moving from the warmth of the blanket to go and make yourself a tea, or dig through the cupboards to find a can of soup… it just didn’t sound worth it, at all.

“I don’t want to bug your mum, if you pass me my phone I’ll just order some soup here. I can get you something too, real food. But you may not want to eat near me, I haven’t really been able to keep anything down either,” the sniffles after every few words had Oscar grimacing.

“Oh hush, mum always has leftover soup. Someone’s always sick around there, she’d be more than happy to drop it off. Let me go make you a cup of tea, and I’ll be right back.”

It didn’t take him long to tinker around the kitchen, throwing your favourite teabag into the mug and heating up the kettle; texting his mum in the process to inquire about any recent soups she may have made. Unsurprisingly, dad had been sick just days before, excess of his favourite soup in a Tupperware container in the freezer. Nicole had promised to get it thawed up and dropped off before sunset, a message of ‘get well soon, honey’ likely to be written in black ink on the lid.

Holding the warm cup of tea in front of your face, he gestured for you to sit up, a groan emitting from your body as you did so. Gently placing the cup into your hands, he sat down next to you, a small frown marring his face.

“Are you warm enough, baby? I can go pull down a few more blankets from the cupboards? Or turn the heating up?”

Shaking your head, you placed the mug down on the coffee table in front of you, before snuggling up into his side.

“Can you just hold me? You’re always so warm, and I just want to be snuggled up with you, right now,” you said.

The arm that was pressed between your two bodies moved out of the grasp, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders before pulling you in closer to his body.

“I’ll hold you whenever you want me to, even if you’re going to have to be the one to explain to the team why I have the flu next week.”

The only response you gave him was a shrug of your shoulders. You had already grappled with the fact you were probably going to get him sick, if you had to explain to the team why one of their prized driver’s was now sick… then so be it.

y'all... i didnt realize how popular oscar was until this celebration i have SO many requests for him lol. i hope everyone loves this, and as always, thank you for celebrating with me!!

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 blurb #oscar piastri blurb #blurb #writing #fluff #pierregazly's 1.5k celebration

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mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 13 hours

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Can’t Get Off Without You // Abby Anderson*

request: none!

prompts: none!

summary: after a long hard day of patrol, you just want to cuddle with your girlfriend. but after walking in on abby touching herself, your plans suddenly change.

warnings: smut, masturbation, oral (a. receiving), fingering (a. receiving), dom!reader, sub!abby, clit slapping, overstimulation, mean!reader, language, reader calls abby good girl

word count: 1.3k

a/n: gn!reader

join my taglist!

You were exhausted. After a long day on patrol, you were relieved to finally be home, only wanting to spend the rest of the night curled up in your girlfriend’s arms as all your stress from the day melted away. But once you got inside, your face fell when your eyes met the empty couch, where Abby always sat waiting, ready to greet you after your long day. It had become almost routine at this point, and you couldn’t help the disappointment that welled up inside of you.

Sighing, you walked over to the couch and plopped down, shrugging off your coat and tugging your boots off. You sat there for a moment, almost hoping she would walk down the stairs to greet you after having heard the door shut. But still, there was nothing. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up, the stark change to your unspoken routine too jarring to come to terms with.

With a slight groan, you pushed yourself off of the couch, trudging over to the staircase and practically dragging yourself up the stairs, exhaustion plaguing your form. But as you neared your bedroom, you stopped in your tracks. Soft moans were coming from the other side of the door, sounds you knew belonged to your girlfriend.

Your first thought was that she was cheating on you, the absurdity of the idea forcing it out of your head almost as quickly as it had arrived. There was no way Abby would cheat on you, you knew she was better than that. Which plagued the question: what was she doing?

Your curiosity got the best of you, forcing yourself to the door, Abby’s moans growing louder the closer you got. Pressing your ear to the door, you could hear the unmistakable sounds of her squelching pussy. Fuck, she sounded soaked. Your mouth watered at the thought. Unable to wait any longer, you pushed the door open quietly, hoping to remain undetected.

And there she was, splayed out on your shared bed, her fingers ruthlessly pounding into her tight cunt. God, what a sight she was. Her braid in disarray, strands of hair stuck to her forehead due to the light sheen of sweat covering her body. She looked straight out of a wet dream, and you couldn’t help but want to-

You were pulled out of your fantasies by Abby huffing in frustration, pulling her fingers out of her pussy and slumping against the mattress. You couldn’t help the soft pang of pity you felt when looking at her. Poor baby couldn’t get herself off. Looks like you were gonna have to step in and help her.

Creeping over as silently as you could, you climbed onto the bed and lied down between her legs, miraculously remaining undetected, Abby being too distracted by her frustration. Grinning to yourself, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around her clit, suckling it into your mouth and flicking your tongue over the sensitive bud.

Abby’s back arched at the sudden feeling, the sudden stimulation startling her and setting her nerves alight. A strangled moan fell from her lips and her hips bucked into your face. Pulling back to look at her, you couldn’t help but laugh under your breath at how utterly desperate she looked for you.

“You know you’re not supposed to touch yourself without permission, baby,” you said, dragging your nails down her thighs, Abby twitching at the feeling.

“I- I’m sorry, I-”

“But from the looks of it, you couldn’t even get yourself off anyways,” you taunted, not letting her finish her pathetic excuse for an apology.

“Please,” she whimpered, her eyes watering with desperation as she wordlessly pleaded with you.

“Poor baby. Just so needy. Can’t even get off without me, can you?”

Abby shook her head, her hands fisting the sheets tightly as she resisted the urge to touch you, not wanting herself to get into even more trouble. “No…” she whispered, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.

You smiled condescendingly as your fingers traced aimlessly on her thighs, only succeeding in getting her even more worked up. “Guess I should help you with that, huh?”

Abby nodded eagerly, her knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping the sheets. “Please…”

Not even bothering to reply, you leaned back down, your head disappearing between her thighs once more. Just feeling your soft breath against her soaked folds made her back arch and her hips rut forward, her pure desperation and need for release taking control of her movements.

You slowly trailed kisses up her inner thigh, purposely ignoring her aching cunt to repeat the action on the other side. Abby whimpered softly, fighting the urge to grab your hair and shove your face in her pussy. She wanted to be good for you, but sometimes, you just made it so hard.

“Fuck… need you. Please…” Abby begged, her voice quivering in need.

“Poor baby… what do you need, hmm?” you asked, a teasing lilt in your voice as you smirked at her.

Abby blushed harder, not being able to say it. Despite how confident and strong she usually was, when it came to you she was just so incredibly shy. It was adorable, and you couldn’t help but fluster her at every available chance, loving the way her face turned red and she struggled to speak.

“I- I need you to eat my pussy,” Abby forced out, her eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment from having said something so vulgar aloud.

“Good girl. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Before giving her a chance to respond, you finally gave her what she wanted, dragging your tongue through her sopping folds and groaning at the taste that was so distinctly her. Abby whined at the feeling, her hand reaching down to grip your hair tightly, unable to restrain herself any longer.

“F-fuck… that’s it. Holy shit… so fucking good…”

You let her hand guide your movements, too lost in the feeling to care about her breaking the rules. It just felt so good when she used your face to pleasure herself, her hips messily humping your tongue.

You flicked your tongue over her clit, Abby’s movements faltering at the sudden feeling, giving you the time to wrap your lips around her clit, suckling it into your mouth and trailing your tongue around the sensitive bud in the way you knew drove her crazy.

“Fuck… I- fuck, I’m cumming… fuck,” Abby mumbled, her words slurring together as she reached her high.

Her pathetic whines and whimpers only spurred you on, making you speed up your tongue on her clit and slip two fingers into her aching hole. You wanted nothing more than to make her fall apart on your tongue. You needed to make her feel good more than you needed air to breathe.

You moaned into her cunt as she finally let go, her cum coating your fingers and your chin. You could never get enough of her, and you definitely weren’t finished with her yet.

“Fuck- it’s too much. Please…” Abby whined, trying to pull you away from her sensitive pussy.

You pulled off of her clit and licked your lips clean as you smirked at her, your fingers still relentlessly pumping in and out of her soaked core.

“You can take it baby. You were just so desperate to get off earlier, I’m only giving you what you wanted. You can give me one more, can’t you?”

Abby nodded hesitantly, the overstimulation burning in the most delicious way. You pulled your fingers out of her pussy and delivered a swift slap to her clit, causing Abby to let out the most pathetic whine as she leaned into the touch.

“Words, baby.”

“Y-yes. I can give you another one.”

“Good girl.”

You smiled wickedly and lowered yourself back down, your tongue darting out to lap at her clit. There was no way you were gonna stop at just one more. You wanted to ruin her, watch her come undone on your tongue and fingers over and over again. And that’s exactly what you were gonna do.

tags: @velvet-sugarcookie @fictionalgap @ihyperfixatetoomuch @marsworlddd

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b3nnyrafe · 17 hours

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thinking about rafe with a mean!reader 😩

ੈ✩‧₊˚ rafe met you at one of his parties. he watched you cuss out a girl for bumping into your friend and he swore he fell in love.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ he spent weeks trying to get your attention, and usually that wasn’t hard for rafe when it came to girls. but you?

ੈ✩‧₊˚ when he did, he was weak in the knees.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ you were a bitch but that made you so much more interesting. and watching you own a room— it was a turn on for him.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ but, dating you wasn’t for the weak. boys on your tail every time you breath, he was in for a ride.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ it wasn’t long before everyone realized who you belonged to after rafe went psycho on a boy at a party. you fucked him that night.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ don’t be fooled, rafe takes no bullshit. yes, he loves your personality but he was in charge. one day, you got to snippy, calling him names, rolling your eyes— it was to much.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ he remembered that night like it was yesterday. “yeah? teach you not to be a disrespectful slut, hm?” he said, choking you from behind while fucking you with everything he had. he moved your hair out your face, cooing to you. “nah, you take what I give you.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ he loved being the only one that could put you in your place. one look from him and you knew.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ when rafe argued with his dad for the first time, he wasn’t surprised when you defended him. he gave you the best head after that.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ you were the perfect match. maybe?

more of this? yay or nay???? yalll I need requests!! 😩😩 smut or sfw!!

#jj maybank #rafe cameron #jj x reader x john b #rafe x reader #smut #obx fic #outer banks #rafe blurb #imagines #blurb

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secretsturn · 1 day

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(tw for insecurities/uncomfortable in your body)

you’ve always felt out of place in your own skin, you’ve never felt right. you dont admire the way your body was made like how other girls do, you cant accept your hip dips, you cant find anything admirable about your thick thighs, you cringe when you see the creases and extra chub on your tummy. and most of all, you cry when you see your reflection, the way your eyes arent blue like all the pretty girls eyes are, the wrinkles of your smile line, the pink and red dots all across your face. not flawessly smooth and pretty like all the pretty girls’ skin is. your hair being brown and short, not blonde and long like all the pretty girls.

in conclusion, you’ve never liked what you looked like. and chris has never judged you for it, he makes sure to compliment you everyday, he admires you like no other, he always caresses the stretch marks on your thighs, loving how they look like thunderbolts.

its safe to say, he absolutely adores you and what you look like, hes never lied when hes called you ‘pretty’ or ‘gorgeous’. not a single lie leaving the boys lips. he looks at you with heart eyes, no negative thought about you daring to even cross his mind.

he loves your hip dips, it shows him where to place his hands when he goes to pull you in for a hug, or a passionate kiss, or a simple admiration.

he adores the extra fat on your thighs, the plush and smooth skin being a perfect place to rest his head on. he likes to lay his head on them and trace hearts and all sorts of shapes all over your skin whilst whispering soft praises.

hes obsessed with the extra chub on your tummy, its so soft and welcoming. he loves when you where crop tops (which when you feel confident), the skin being so inviting that he’d rather push you onto the bed so he could lay on your tummy and just sleep.

he loves looking into the brown in your eyes, the brown a comforting and calm thing to look at, the soft essence of yellow reminding him of the vibrantness of your personality.

he admires your smile line. the lines proving you’ve experienced such happiness before, in such mass amounts that they left a permanent reminder on you. your smile lines being so noticeable when you’re truly smiling, proving to him that he’s able to make you experience a joy most people can’t find. its assuring to know you’ve seen happiness before and that’s all he could’ve ever asked for.

he absolutely loves your acne, acne scars, anything related. it proves to him that you’re human, that such a goddess of a thing can experience such misfortunate things, proving you’re just like everyone else. but to chris, you’re his and he admires the reality of skin, not the smooth and flawless skin, the one that also shows hard work, the one that shows true emotion to a person.

he’s always admired you, and he’s made that clear. despite his acknowledgements of how pretty and gorgeous you are, you’ve never really showed him your body, preferring to change in separate rooms so you could trust that he wasn’t going to judge you, he had literally no way to.

so, when you first took off your shirt in front of him, his eyes never once left your body. his eyes burning with admiration. butterflies escaping in his stomach, and his jaw subtly falling slack. he stopped in his tracks and let his eyes roam over your body, taking in every inch of skin with an on growing fire of passion burning in his stomach. he so dearly admired you, he’s sure he’s never ever seen such beauty before.

and when you left the room to take your shower, it took everything in him not to grab your waist and stop you so he could look and fall inlove with you even more for just a few more minutes. he stood where he was, your bodys image engraved in his mind, how could he ever forget such a pretty thing like that?

(a/n: y’all is this even considered a blurb 😭)

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo blurb #blurb #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you

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slutforslytherinx · 1 day

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hi i am new at asks but I was wondering if you could do a FLUFF Mattheo Riddle x reader were they go camping and decide to go on a hike bit get lost or separated from each other and they somehow get reunited? And can you plz tag me on it? Thank you for reading and considering this!

muggle activities gone wrong

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

pairing: mattheo x muggleborn!fem!reader

warnings: panicky mattheo, tiny injuries, tad bit of angst, and i think that’s it?? :)

a/n: thank you so much for being my first ask!! this was such a cute request and i hope it meets your expectations🤍

convincing your boyfriend, mattheo, to go on a muggle camping trip with you wasn’t easy. he, being raised around magic, was wary of the idea of cutting ties with the thing he was reliant on for the entire weekend.

over the course of the week, you chipped away at his worries bit by bit until he finally relented. you were majorly regretting that decision right now. he would never go on a camping trip again after this.

it started out amazingly. the two of you borrowed your parents car and drove down to the sight, (mostly you because he doesn’t have a license), and attempted to put the tent together to the best of your abilities.

you showed him how to roast a marshmallow and taught him your favorite board games before you both retired to your sleeping bags, cuddling together for warmth. it started going south earlier this morning, when you both decided that a hiking trail sounded like a good idea.

how wrong you were. it started out fun, taking polaroids of each other at pretty landmarks and seeing nature from a new perspective. however, it all went wrong when you saw the prettiest tree in the distance with budding purple and pink flowers for leaves.

you started heading towards it while mattheo was at a nearby water fountain on the edge of the trail, thinking he would figure you went to go see it. you were wrong. you waited by the tree in excitement, wanting to take a picture together, but after a couple minutes, you started to get worried.

you headed back to your previous spot, your boyfriend nowhere to be found. that was an hour ago, and he was still nowhere to be found. did he go off the trail? did he think you went a different way and started going backwards? is he okay?

worries filled your mind as you pushed your way through bushes, searching all over for the curly haired boy. tiny scratches littered your arms from sharp thorns, a small amount of dry blood surrounding them.

the sun was high in the sky, the heat scorching your skin to the point you were certain you’d have a nasty sunburn despite the sunscreen you applied earlier.

how far away could he be? it wasn’t a necessarily dangerous trail, unless he went off the path. he wouldn’t do that though, right? your voice was sore from yelling his name in hopes he might hear and your mouth was dry from dehydration.

you made the decision that you would keep searching for another thirty minutes, and if you couldn’t find him you’d go get people for help. “mattheo!” you yelled into the otherwise quiet atmosphere, praying by any chance he was nearby and heard.

a distant call made you immediately alert, eyes widening in relief that you might’ve finally found him. “mattheo!” you shouted again, louder this time as you hastily made your way to the direction of the voice.

you pushed through more bushes to make your way to him, ignoring the sting of thorns against your bare arms. the calls got louder and clearer the closer you got, confirming the fact that it was definitely your boyfriend.

“oh my god!” you shrieked, stumbling into his arms when you reunited. “do you know how worried i was? i was about to go get help!” you clung to him, a sigh of relief escaping your mouth.

“do you know how worried i was? i came back and you were gone, where the hell did you go?” he retaliated, stepping back and examining you with concerned eyes. “why are you bleeding?”

“i went to go see the tree up ahead! i thought we could get a picture there but after a few minutes i went back to get you and you weren’t there. and i just got pricked by some thorns, i’m fine.” mattheos jaw clenched, the worry in his eyes dimming the slightest bit.

“i take it you won’t go camping ever again after this?” you teased, attempting to brighten to mood. he rolled his eyes, but the quirk of his lip gave away his amusement.

“never again.” he repeated, trying to look serious but failing. you could read him like a book, even if it took quite awhile to reach this point. “let’s go.” he took your hand in his, starting forward with you trying to match his pace. “where are we going?”

“back to the tent to disinfect your arms.” you wisely decided to not fight him on it, allowing him to lead you back to the tent. if you guys got a tad lost on the way, it wasn’t your fault! you made it back safely, anyways.

as he now sat in front of you with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a concentrated look, his brow furrowed as worked, you didn’t care about the failed camping trip. all you cared about was him.

#slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #oneshot #mattheo riddle blurb #fanfic #harry potter #blurb

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