#because look at him and his weird brush obsession

[s1m0nth3swag]

Francis Mosses x GN!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE; Haven't written in a while, but thanks to Arlo, a friend (Hi Arlo, I know you're reading this), Inspiration about Francis Mosses struck (he bought me That's not my neighbor and then continued to freak out about Francis with me) so I wrote this. I have so many thoughts about Francis, so... tell me if you want more because i will deliver ngl. Enjoy (or don't, I don't dictate your feelings)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with little to no plot, Submissive Francis, a little non-consensual at the start (but not in a super weird way, imo?), Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, tried to write as GN as possible with the compliments and thoughts about Readers appearance), not proofread nor have I thought about this much, more a drabble than an actual thoughtful story (not apologising because I had such a long break from writing anything and obviously it's gonna suck a little when I come back)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

The first time Francis had realised that he hadn't gotten any touch from another human being was when someone brushed up against him on his way home from work. He had felt like a creep afterwards because he hadn't stopped thinking about what could've happened if the person hadn't moved away and had just stayed pressed against him. That was a week before you started your job as a doorman.

The second time Francis had noticed was when a friend of his had spoken to him on the phone, talking about his new girlfriend. Said friend gave too much intel on their sex life. Francis had wondered if he could have someone the way his friend explained - he quickly brushed the thought off. That was two days before you started working as a doorman.

The third time, he noticed when you had smiled at him. It was your first day, and he was tired from work. You had repeated his name after reading it off of his ID, and he had looked at you for the first time since his eyes kept falling closed, and you smiled so brightly. You had told him his name was nice, and you said it again. Francis swore that the way his name rolled off your tongue was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Not even an angel could sound more wonderful. Suddenly, he was a lot more energised. Totally not thanks to the fact that he had immediately grown hard the second he had seen your smile. He had gone to his apartment that night and had jerked off for the first time in probably months. He had always been too tired to previously, but now he couldn't stop thinking about how you'd sound moaning his name. Maybe you were more of a groaner, or you'd whimper and whine. He came as he imagined how you'd look sucking his dick.

Since then, Francis has always looked forward to entry checks. What had normally kept him away from his bed and a good night's sleep was now the best experience of his day. He loved the way you spoke to him even though he was too nervous to respond. Sometimes, he deliberately didn't show his ID at first, just so you'd ask about it, and he could listen to you talk a little more. He felt guilty about it. He knew you had never agreed to feed into this weird little obsession of his. It was awful of him to do this - have you talk to him enough to give him more scenarios to think about that night.

A few weeks after all this had started, Francis had built up the courage to finally ask you out. Just something simple, dinner at his place. He had to cook for himself all the time. Cooking for you as well wouldn't be too different, right?

Francis was wrong. He was anxious that the food wouldn't taste good and kept tasting it just so he could make sure it hadn't mysteriously switched tastes in the last 20 seconds. When you knocked on his door, he took a minute to make sure he didn't look like a mess - though you wouldn't mind either way since he always looked like a mess when he came through during your shifts.

You looked so good when he opened the door. Your hair fell perfectly, your lips looked a little too kissable, and Francis had to stop his train of thought just so he wouldn't embarrass himself by having yet another boner caused by just the way you looked. You were a little shorter than him, smiling up as he let you inside.

"You look good." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. He seriously had to lay off thinking like a high-schooler. His nervousness and awkwardness were getting really annoying - to him, at least. You grinned, chuckling softly as you took off your shoes. "Thank you. You do as well." His heart for sure burst at that - he knew something else would burst as well if he didn't stop thinking right this second.

Throughout the evening, ignoring his thoughts came easier and easier. The two of you had eaten, you had told him he was a good cook, he had almost excused himself to the bathroom because of it. Now you were sitting on the couch, drinking wine and talking casually.

"You know, when you first walked through, I swore I would die." You giggled, looking at him with a mischievous look. Francis was confused by that statement. "How come?" He asked, tilting his head at you in question. "I was sure you were a doppelganger. You looked too handsome to be real." You cheekily answered, cheeks slightly flushed as you downed your wine. Francis blushed heavily, looked away from you, and thought about your words for a moment. The silence was loud as he wondered what to answer. "..you think I'm handsome?" He questioned while looking at the floor. If he had looked at you, he'd have seen the way you stared at him, your own cheeks coloured a deep red. "Extremely." You muttered. It took him a minute before he could look at you, but when he did, his lips pressed against yours in a desperate kiss.

When you reciprocated, Francis groaned and pulled you closer until you sat on his lap. He was just a tiny bit embarrassed when you gasped and felt his dick press against you. In all honesty, he had held back the entire night, and he was allowed a little selfishness. "Sorry. Can't help it." He muttered between kisses. You just grinned against his lips before grinding against him. A whimper fell from his lips - that was the moment he was actually embarrassed. "That's cute.." You had mumbled, a cheeky grin on your face as you started placing kisses against his jaw and neck. One of your hands trailed down his body to rest right over his crotch, Francis unconsciously bucked his hips up against your hand, whining. He didn't notice anything else as you caught the skin of his neck with your teeth carefully, leaving the softest bite mark on him. He shuddered at the feeling and gasped before realising that you had meanwhile unzipped his pants. A groan slipped from his lips as you ran a finger over his dick, still hidden from sight by his boxers, but god knows he would cum the second you'd touch it without. "Is this okay?" You asked him, and he nodded faster than he even knew he could. "Yes. God, yes. Please, please continue.." he muttered, his breathing heavy as he watched you slide off his lap, settling in front of him and between his legs. His dick twitched at the sight, and he let out a heavy sigh. Minutes later, his pants and boxers were discarded, and the way you looked up at him, his dick so close to your face, made Francis feel the way his orgasm was approaching way too quick. The second you wrapped your hand around him he whined pathetically, bucked up into your hand and knew that he'd definitely cum too soon. Your hand was so soft, cool against his hot flesh, and you worked his dick so good he almost thought you were a professional. He looked down at you through lidded eyes, watched the way you bit your lip, and grinned knowingly. "Such a pretty boy, huh?" You chuckled, and that definitely sealed the deal for Francis. He came, probably ruining his shirt as he dirtied both it and your hand. His heart stopped for a second when you licked your hand while looking up at him. "You didn't give me enough time to taste you properly. Don't look at me like that." You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You should probably take off your shirt so you can clean it later." You then winked. He swiftly shed the piece of clothing, entranced by your voice and the way you looked. "Sorry, didn't mean to cum that fast.." he mutters, his voice out of breath. "Jus'.. unused to... this.." he added, clearing his throat awkwardly. You laughed and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. We have all the time in the world to make you last longer. I'm gonna give you a real reason to be tired tomorrow." You winked.

Francis didn't even mind that he was in for a long night.

Your honour I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #x reader #gn reader #thats not my neighbor #milkman x reader

[remuslovebot]

Felix catton x reader where oliver is being really weird towards reader and felix is protective

gah this sounds excellent! thank you for the request!

pairing: felix catton x fem!reader

warnings: spoilers!!! bit of an au, language and light nsfw, stalking, obsession. one use of y/n

————————————————————————

It was your first summer at Saltburn and you and Felix were attached at the hip.

Reading together by the poolside, you were curled up to his chest and reading the Harry Potter book that was passed around the entire group that summer. Felix had just finished it and now it was your turn.

Felix was reading a book that you had recommended to him — “The Secret History” by Donna Tart. Getting board with reading, you sat yourself up. A groan escaped Felix’s lips and you smiled. “Just going for a swim, care to join?” You asked, turning to him.

He seemed tempted, but he couldn’t put his book down. You just had that good of taste. “Maybe after I finish this chapter love,” he said. You nodded and made your way to the pool.

A moment later and out of thin air, Oliver appeared next to you. Oliver was quite jealous of the fact Felix had invited both of you to Saltburn. He wanted Felix to himself but Felix couldn’t keep his eyes away from you.

“I can see you both love each other very much,” Oliver says slowly and calculated. He turns his head to meet your gaze and there is a glimmer in his eyes.

“We do,” you confirm, a smile creeping onto your face. You blushed.

“I can hear you in the next room,” Oliver said, making his way towards you. “I see how he fucks you and how much control he has over you,” he said, getting only slightly closer.

You back away, looking at him with some confusion. ‘Why would he watch you and Felix?’

“Felix and I’s relationship is none of your business Oliver,” you retorted, snappily.

Before Oliver could respond, Felix cannonball’s into the pool. Swimming over to you, he slides his arms around your waist.

“What are you talking about?” Felix asked, a slight bit aggressive. Then Oliver replied. “Oh nothing, just my party,” he shrugged lying, swimming away from the both of you.

You let it be, too stunned to speak.

Later that night, you and Felix had snuck away after dinner. You two were in the labyrinth, Felix’s hands pulling at your waist. His lips trailing kisses down your neck leaving love bites and little marks as he went.

“Felix,” you giggled, his touch soft but still tickling.

“What?” He smiled teasingly, moving a hand to brush some hair from your face. You both made eye contact. Felix was much taller than yourself and you enjoyed how he towered over you. He brushed some hair from your face and leaned into kiss you.

But you backed away in fright, from the corner of your eyes you could see someone in the bushes.

Felix grew concerned, having never seen you like this.

“Whats wrong?” Felix asked.

You saw a figure near a hedge, the person looked small and angry. You looked back to Felix. “It’s Oliver,” you whispered, hoping he would believe you.

Felix saw your frightened eyes and got up from on top of you. “Oliver?” He shouted to the dark.

You saw now that no one was there.

Felix turned to you, “Are you okay? Because no one was there,” he said, concerned.

You shook your head, standing up. “No I’m not alright. I just saw Oliver watching us, right after he told me today that he stalks us,” you said, tears forming in your eyes.

“Do you not believe me?” You asked Felix.

Felix came up to you and embraced you in a soft hug. “I believe you,” he said. “He lied about his family. I’m not sure what to do.” Felix added.

“He lied about his family?” You asked, growing more concerned. “He’s a psychopath,” you said, pulling away from Felix.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Felix said, protectively. “I’ll get mum to throw him out right after the party tomorrow night,” he said.

You nodded, “stay by my side,” you said. Felix took your hand and kissed your forehead, “I won’t let him near you.”

The next night at the party, you were dressed as a nymph. There was glitter in your hair and on your cheeks. You wore an old silky night gown, which Felix said he couldn’t wait to take off later.

Felix had kept his word and stayed next to you the whole night. Elsbeth and Sir James loved the look of you two, enjoying yourselves and having fun.

You didn’t see Oliver anywhere and wondered where he could be lurking.

Towards the end of the night, Felix wanted to get you back to his bedroom. On the way up the stairs, you ran into Oliver.

Felix went infront of you, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Not from this lying creep. “Go away Oliver,” he said strongly.

“I wanted to explain myself,” he said, sounding drunk.

“We don’t want your explanations,” Felix replied. “You lied to me and my family. And then you admitted to stalking me and y/n,” he said.

Oliver came closer, “I just wanted to be your friend. One of the group.” He said pathetically.

Felix went to move past Oliver, you following behind. As you went passed Oliver he tried to grab you and Felix turned to punch him in the face.

“Don’t touch her!” Felix yelled, causing some faces, including the Catton family and Farleigh to see.

Oliver in his drunken state missed a couple steps and fell. Not terribly injured he propped himself up. He was gone from Saltburn the following morning.

#felix catton x y/n #felix catton #felix catton x reader #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi #saltburn x reader #saltburn #oliver quick #oliver quick x reader

[chrisevansonly]

La Myrtille de Charles (Charles’s Blueberry)

charles leclerc x female reader

summary: your favourite colour is navy, so much so that charles always calls you his blueberry…

warnings: none very sweet and cute!

a/n: this idea has been swirling in my head and i wanted to get it out.

Ever since you were a young girl your favourite colour had been navy blue, like the classic Ralph Lauren polo’s and fresh blueberries in the summer from the farmers market down the street.

It was a colour that your boyfriend Charles knew very well at this point, from the splashes of navy he could find around your shared apartment in Monaco, and the array of the blues in your closet.

So that’s why when he’d passed by the children’s toy store on his way home, he’d picked up a little blueberry jellycat, which to the ordinary person might seem weird, but to him this little stuffed fruit held a much deeper meaning.

“Amour? I’m home!”

“Coming!!” came your voice from down the hallway, Charles holding the bag from the store gently in his hands.

He smiled as you appeared, your hair done nearly with a navy bow tied into it, you were and absolute angel in every way.

“Hi my love, how was your errand?”

Leaning down to kiss you he brushed his thumb across your cheek as he pulled away

“It was good, and I picked you up a little something…”

“Oh you did?”

He nodded, holding out the little paper bag for you to take, watching with a smile on his face as you reached inside and pulled the little stuffed blueberry out, your eyes lighting up

“You got me a little blueberry jellycat?!”

“I couldn’t walk by without it…”

Holding it gently in your hands you looked at it with such a fondness

“Char I love it so much, thank you my love…he’s the perfect shade of navy too…”

“You know why I got it?”

Furrowing your brows you shifted your attention to him, his eyes watching you with so much love you thought you’d melt from all the emotions swirling in your chest.

“I got it because you love navy…but because you remind me of blueberries…your my blueberry”

That had a pout pulling at your lips at the sheer cuteness of Charles, and the thought process behind why he picked up the blueberry for you, enough to have your eyes a little glassy.

“Baby that is the cutest thing ever…I love it so much and I love you even more!”

He didn’t stop you from pressing another kiss to his lips, but his arms wound around you to hold you to him, hugging you to his chest.

“I love you mon amour…my little blueberry..”

It all started with the colour navy and a little girl whose obsession never went away. The colour having so much influence in her life, and now his too, a colour that was welcomed and adored by all, but especially you.

Just like the little stuffed blueberry too.

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #rueschats💗 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x girlfriend reader #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 masterlist #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 drabble #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

[scuderiahoney]

Sweet Like Grenadine

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You love weddings. However, you don’t love being stuck by yourself at a wedding, a plus one to a boyfriend who’s too busy for you. Enter Daniel Ricciardo, your knight in shining armor.

Word Count: 5.6k

a/n: thought of this concept and couldn’t get Danny out of my head. He’s soooo guy you flirt with at a wedding and will probably never see again coded

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild sexual content (heavy makeout? idrk how to tag this stuff), one (1) shitty boyfriend

The table in front of you is draped with a heavy white tablecloth. At the center is a large bouquet of flowers, the number 19 stuck haphazardly in the middle of it. Not last, but certainly low on the list. You can’t blame them- you barely know the bride and groom.

You’re only here because your boyfriend is a groomsman. A plus one. You love weddings, so of course you’d agreed, but you hadn’t really considered how lonely an event like this could be. The only person you really know has been busy all day. You can’t complain, won’t complain, you know that’s why he’s here, but…

You’re sitting at a table full of strangers. It’s not exactly fun. There’s still hours left of this. Dinner hasn’t even been served, there’s still speeches and cake and dancing and honestly, you’re already exhausted. You need a drink, but the bar isn’t open yet. You need to take off your heels, but you’re pretty sure that would be frowned upon. You need to talk to your boyfriend.

He’s busy, though. He told you as much when you found him between the ceremony and the reception. There’s a pang in your chest still at the way he brushed you off, the way he told you he didn’t have time to chat. You get it, you really do. You’re not going to get upset about it.

The seat to your left has been empty since you sat down, but someone collapses into it, letting out a heavy sigh. You turn to look, hoping for some sort of familiar face or at least a friendly one, and you’re met with-

“Hi. ‘M Daniel,” he says, sticking his hand out to shake yours.

The thing is, Daniel is a familiar face, but not for any of the reasons you’d hoped for. You know Daniel because your boyfriend is obsessed with Formula 1. You try to keep up so you can take part in his conversations, but it’s never really been your thing. But you know enough to know Daniel Ricciardo.

“Yeah, I… I know,” you say, before you slap your hand over your mouth. “Shit! I’m sorry. That’s weird. S’just- my boyfriend’s a huge fan-“

You swear his face drops slightly, but he plasters that grin right back on before he says, “and you’re not a fan?”

“I’m not not a fan,” you say. “He’s just the bigger fan. Of the two of us.”

Daniel nods. You finally shake his hand. He never stops looking at you, never stops smiling. You tell him your name, and he repeats it back to you, his accented version making you smile.

“Well, is he here? I’d love to meet the bigger of the two fans,” he says. “We talking, like, box fan, industrial blower, air boat fan? How big?”

You laugh, his hand squeezing yours as you lean over the table. He’s laughing, too, then, before he lets go of your hand. You want to crawl out of your skin, want to run and hide in the bathroom, because you’re definitely making a fool of yourself, but-

“Oh, he’s busy,” you say, waving your hand in the air dismissively. “He’s one of the groomsmen, got a lot on his plate. I don’t wanna bug him. He’s the one with the sunglasses on,” you say, pointing at him at the head table.

Daniel looks where you point and quirks his brow. “Guy like that has a girl like you and you’re the one worried about bugging him?”

You stare at him with wide eyes. He collapses into a fit of laughter again, and you follow suit. You don’t know what else to do. Then he nudges your knee with his, under the table, and juts his chin towards the bar.

“D’you want a drink?” He asks.

“The bar isn’t open yet,” you say.

“So?”

“So, how are you going to get a drink?”

He shakes his head and purses his lips. “Oh, sweetheart, you just watch and learn. What’re you having?”

You shrug. “A soda, I guess. I’m the designated driver for at least three of the groomsmen.”

Daniel sighs heavily. “You poor thing. You keep making me feel worse and worse for you. Alright, I’ll get you something.”

He strides his way up to the bar, which has a very obvious “Closed” sign on the countertop. There’s a single bartender behind it, and he’s cleaning glasses. You watch with entertainment as Daniel leans on the counter, exuding confidence and charm. The bartender shakes his head. Daniel counters. The man behind the bar shrugs and nods. Then he steps through a door for just a moment. When he returns, he has two drinks in his hands- one that’s obviously a beer, and one that’s bright pink. Daniel smiles, thanks the man, and walks the cups back to you.

He sets it down in front of you with a flourish before he takes a seat.

“I told you, I’m DD,” you remind him.

He nods, taking a sip of his beer before he says, “Shirley Temple.”

“Oh my god,” you say, a grin washing over your face. You pick up the cup and take a sip, sighing at the sweet taste of ginger ale and grenadine. “How did you know?”

“Everyone loves a good Shirley,” he says, elbowing you lightly. “And you can’t drink just plain soda at a wedding.”

They announce dinner shortly after that, and the waiters start bringing plates out. You’re starving, having been up early to help with last minute wedding things at your boyfriend’s request. You hadn’t had time to eat lunch. You chat with Daniel through the meal. The two of you talk about the food, about the wedding, about the decor. There are other people at the table, but they’re all incredibly boring in comparison. Daniel, on the other hand, could hold your attention forever, probably.

You sneak glances at your boyfriend, surrounded by his friends at the head table. He’d promised to sneak away as soon as he got a chance. He hasn’t even looked your way. You're trying to ignore the hurt deep in your chest. Daniel is sneaking glances at you sneaking glances at the bridal party. You’re trying to ignore that, too.

“How long have you two been dating?” Daniel asks.

“About 6 months,” you say with a smile.

It feels forced. Frankly, the last thing you want to talk about right now is your boyfriend. They’re clearing the last plates. He’s at his table, three beers in by your count, not a care in the world. He promised. Daniel opens his mouth, likely to ask another question about your boyfriend, but you speak first.

“So wait, are you here for the bride or the groom?” You ask.

“The bride,” Daniel says , a soft smile on his face. “An old family friend. I’m representing the Ricciardos.”

You smile. “That’s sweet.”

Before he can say anything in response, someone is tapping on a microphone. It’s time for the speeches. You know your boyfriend isn’t making one, which is good. He’s not exactly the best public speaker, especially when he’s been drinking. You and Daniel settle in to listen.

He sneaks away between the maid of honor and the best man, patting the back of your hand and whispering about being right back. He returns a few moments later, another beer and a Shirley Temple in his hands. You smile gratefully at him, and he waves you off. Then the next speech is starting, and you’re rolling your eyes at the way the best man talks about marriage like it’s some awful idea.

“He knows this is a wedding, yeah?” Daniel asks out of the side of his mouth, leaning towards you.

You shrug. “That one started drinking at 9am. I’m not sure he even knows what year it is right now.”

Daniel starts laughing, then. Luckily, the rest of the crowd does too- apparently, the best man has just made an extremely funny joke. Daniel is only looking at you, though, and you can’t help but laugh just because of the look on his face.

When the first dances are over and the music starts, you sink low into your seat. Your boyfriend has still not made an appearance. He definitely knows where you’re sitting, he had told you so earlier. You’re sure he’s busy, but you’d looked away for too long, talking to Daniel, and now he’s disappeared from the head table. You scan the crowd, hoping to see his face. All the while, you can feel Daniel watching you.

“We could go dance,” he suggests.

You sink lower in your seat. “I don’t really like dancing.”

That’s a lie. You love dancing, especially at weddings. You love the cheesy songs they always play, you love the atmosphere, you love watching the bride and groom have fun and getting to be a part of it. But you know how it would look if you went out on the dance floor with Daniel, and your boyfriend definitely won’t be joining you. As frustrated as you may be with your him, you don’t want to cause drama at someone else’s best day of their lives.

“I think I might try and find him,” you say, picking up your drink.

Daniel nods. “Want me to come with you?”

You look around at the rest of the table and find it empty. You shake your head and lean towards him, close enough that you almost knock your foreheads. Nobody’s watching the two of you or trying to listen anyways, but it’s more fun this way.

“He promised he’d find me before dinner,” you whisper conspiratorially. “That obviously didn’t happen. So I’m not bringing you to him as a reward for bad behavior.”

Daniel sits back in his chair and smiles at you, one brow raised. “Atta girl!”

You stand up from your chair and hope he can’t tell that your face has grown hot from that comment alone.

Even if you can’t find your boyfriend, it’s probably best that you get some space from Daniel. Through the last hour or so of your conversation, you’ve been catching yourself leaning towards him and then reminding yourself that you have a boyfriend. It’s just that he’s being so nice, and that you’re feeling so down about the whole thing. He’s comforting, which is fine. But it can’t be more than that.

You find your boyfriend at one of the bars, leaning on the counter and talking loudly with one of the other groomsmen. He’s drunk already- he should really slow down if he wants to last the night. You walk over to him, forcing a soft smile onto your face. You can’t confront him now, not in front of his friend and all the people waiting for drinks.

“Hey, babe,” you say, tapping his shoulder lightly as you walk up.

He turns. You wait for him to smile at you, but it never comes. Your stomach sinks.

“Hey,” he says, nonchalantly. “D’you need something?”

Your palms feel clammy. “Oh, no, I’m good! Just… wanted to say hi. S’been a bit.”

He nods. “Yeah. I told you I’d be busy tonight.”

His friend just stands there and listens. Your skin feels hot, and your eyes begin to sting.

“I know,” you say. “I’m not trying to bug you, I just- I was just walking by. Just. Yeah. That’s all. I’ll leave you to it.”

“I’ll come find you in a bit, baby,” he promises.

You don’t bother believing him this time.

Daniel doesn’t comment on your red eyes or the tear tracks on your cheeks when you return to the table. He just squeezes your arm and disappears for a moment, then comes back with yet another Shirley Temple. You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry, so you just take a sip of the drink instead.

“You don’t have to sit here with me,” you say to Daniel. “I’m definitely pulling down the mood.”

“Are you joking?” He says. “You’re the best thing at this party.”

You laugh, then, because the statement is so ridiculous that you can’t help it. He sounds so serious, and when you turn to look at him there’s no hint of teasing on his face. He just elbows your arm lightly again.

“Come on, we don’t have to dance but we’re not sitting here all night,” he says. “Let’s go wander.”

He stands from the table and tugs at your chair. You give in and stand up too, taking your drink from the table. You follow him as he weaves through the throngs of people. You like wandering. Wandering is a perfectly sensible thing to do with the guy you just met. At the wedding your boyfriend is a groomsman at. What else are you supposed to do, anyways?

He leads you past the dance floor, which you try not to look at forlornly. There are large glass doors at the back of the hall. He swings one open, holding it for you, waving you through with a flourish of his hand. Outside, it’s lit up with string lights. There’s a wide rolling lawn of grass, with fire pits and chairs spread out everywhere. There are lawn games, too- beanbags and horseshoes and a giant version of Jenga.

You can burn a lot of time out here. You barely even notice when Daniel slips his hand around your wrist to gently pull you with him. You should feel guilty about it. Your boyfriend is somewhere inside. But that same boyfriend has also been ignoring you all night. Daniel is just being friendly. You follow him to one of the fire pits with a smile on your face.

You and Daniel are nearly two hours into wandering when someone calls your name. You look up from where you’ve been staring at the beanbag board, trying to line up your throw just right. You’d been on the verge of winning for the first time. For an Australian, Daniel is surprisingly good at American lawn games. Frustratingly good, even.

It’s your boyfriend, calling you from the doorway of the reception hall. You sigh and drop the beanbag onto the ground near your feet. Two of the other groomsmen are hanging off of him, looking worse for the wear. One of them has something down the front of his shirt- you pray it’s not vomit.

“I think that’s my cue,” you say, nodding towards the building.

“You could always put them in a cab and hope they figure it out on their own.” Daniel says. You give him a skeptical look. “Kidding, kidding.”

“It’s tempting,” you admit.

Daniel bends over and picks up your heels from where they lay in the grass. You’d kicked them off as soon as you stepped into the soft grass outside. You slip the shoes back on and wince. Then you stick your hand out to him, palm open.

“Well, it was lovely to meet you,” you say, as he shakes your hand once more. “Thanks for not leaving me all alone.”

Daniel laughs. “I will be your ‘I-know-nobody-at-this-event-‘ partner anytime you want, sweetheart. Just give me a call. I’ll be there.”

You know what he’s trying to do. The opportunity is right there in front of you. He’s telling you to give him a call- this is where you ask for his number. But you have a boyfriend. You can justify hanging out with him, especially considering you had nothing else to do, but asking for his number feels a step too far.

You smile softly and drop his hand. “Goodnight, Daniel.”

You turn and make your way towards your boyfriend. He’s already complaining before you’re even within ten feet of him, about how he’s tired and he looked everywhere for you and how could you disappear like that? You apologize, just to quiet him down. You usher the three men inside before you turn to look at Daniel one more time.

He’s standing there, watching you, a sad smile on his face.

“Who was that guy?” Your boyfriend asks later, from the passenger seat of the car.

You look at him, at his eyes. The light is gone- he’s blacked out, there’s no way he’ll remember this tomorrow.

“Daniel Ricciardo,” you say.

It’s a testament to how drunk he is that he doesn’t even react.

You get all three guys into bed, including your boyfriend. You lay down next to him, as much as you don’t want to. There’s not really anywhere else to sleep in the little hotel room, and you’re not sleeping on the floor. When you close your eyes, you can’t fall asleep, plagued by thoughts of if you’d made the right choice, unable to erase Daniel’s sad smile from your memory.

…..

You love weddings. You remind yourself of that over and over again as you pin a dress in place for the hundredth time that day. Your best friend Natalie is a bridesmaid, it’s her sister who’s getting married, and you’re here to help in any way you can. So far, that’s included safety pinning, making a run for alcohol, checking on the floral delivery, checking to make sure the groomsmen are where they’re supposed to be, and comforting a bridesmaid who was crying in the bathroom. Her boyfriend had broken up with her the night before.

“Men are shit,” you’d told her in commiseration.

By the time the ceremony rolls around, you’re relieved to have a chance to sit down. You check on the bridesmaids one last time and head into the church. The pews are packed with people, so you find a spot near the back and sit down. You sigh in relief.

The music starts playing, and you finally take a chance to look around. The pews are decorated with flowers, there’s bright light streaming through the large windows. The groom waits up front, eyes already watering. You love weddings. You say it like a mantra in your head.

As the procession starts, you scan the crowd. You know more people at this wedding, having been friends with the family for a while. You’ll at least have some company at your table. You spot a couple friends from high school, a cousin you’ve met a few times, some mutual friends who you’ll definitely have to catch up with later. And then, in the third row on the groom’s side, you see dark curly hair that looks terrifyingly familiar.

It can’t be him. That would be absolutely insane. There’s absolutely no way Daniel Ricciardo is attending a second wedding in the US, for a couple who are no more famous than the previous wedding you’d seen him at. It would make absolutely no sense. And yet, you can’t stop staring at the back of this man’s head, the slope of his shoulders beneath his dark suit. You remember that wedding, months ago, resting your hand on his shoulder for balance as you took off your heels. He’d joked about having to cut you off, holding your Shirley Temple in his hand.

When the bridal procession begins playing, everyone stands. You keep your eyes on him. He turns, and your heart skips a beat in your chest. It’s Daniel. It’s impossible, it’s irrational, but it is him. You’d recognize him anywhere.

You force yourself to look away, to turn towards the bride. She looks beautiful, perfect, the picture of elegance. The flowers in her hands, the ones you’d checked on that morning, are perfect too. You breathe a sigh of relief. She really should’ve hired a wedding coordinator. Maybe you should be a wedding coordinator.

When you go to sit back down, you sneak a glance at Daniel. He’s looking over his shoulder at you, eyes wide. You meet his gaze and your cheeks feel hot. That wide, bright grin breaks out across his face. You grin right back.

When the ceremony is over, and they’re officially Mr and Mrs, the whole wedding disperses out onto the lawn of the church. There are shuttles to take you to the reception, but everyone seems content to mingle outside in the fresh air. You’re one of the first ones out, but you’re quickly swept up in the crowd. You search for Daniel in every face that passes. You find Natalie first, though.

“Nat,” you say frantically. “Does your sister know Daniel Ricciardo?”

Her brow furrowed for a second. “What?”

“Danny Ricciardo,” you repeat, keeping your voice low. “The F1 driver. He’s here.”

“Oh,” Natalie says, brows raising. “Yeah, he’s like, friends with her fiancé- oh, her husband! Shit, I forgot that you watch that stuff- or, you… did? I can probably try and introduce you-“

“No, we- we’ve met.” You admit. She’s the first person you’re telling about this. “At that wedding like 6 months ago.”

She tilts her head at you. Her eyes go wide. She says your name in a bewildered tone.

“Are you telling me that the mystery wedding man, who you definitely should’ve dumped your boyfriend for, was fucking Danny Ricciardo?”

“Keep it down!” You shush her.

“Oh my god,” she says, a conspiratorial smirk crossing over her face. “And he’s here.”

Someone calls your name. You know that voice- it’s haunted you since you left that wedding. You turn over your shoulder as Natalie grabs your wrist and lets out a squeak.

“Danny,” you breathe, like a sigh of relief. “Hi.”

He strides up to you, handsome as ever, grinning so widely it looks like it hurts. “This is fucking insane.”

An elderly aunt glares at him. He makes an apologetic face before turning back to you and shrugging. He steps into your space, so close you can smell his cologne. He’s staring down at you through his lashes. The look in his eyes is so soft and warm that you think you’re melting.

“The bride is my best friend’s sister,” you explain, gesturing at Natalie. “This is Natalie.”

“I’m friends with the groom,” he says, reaches his hand out and shakes Natalie’s hand. “I’m Danny, nice to meet you.”

She nods, and suddenly you’re very afraid. Natalie doesn’t have much of a filter, especially in high pressure situations. Especially when she’s been forced to be prim and proper all morning.

“You must really like American weddings,” she says, and you wince. “I hear this is your second one in 6 months.”

Daniel smirks, raises his eyebrows at you. “Huh. Wonder what else you’ve heard about me.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but you shove her shoulder. “Nat, aren’t you supposed to be taking family pictures?”

She’s so busy staring at Daniel she almost doesn’t hear you. Then her eyes go wide. She swears loudly, earning a glare from the same aunt. Then she drops your wrist and takes off through the crowd.

You turn towards Daniel. “Sorry about her.”

He shakes his head. “No need. She seems sweet.”

You smile. “She is.”

“Makes sense, since she’s friends with you,” he says. “The sweetest of them all.”

You laugh, shove at his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

Behind him, people are starting to get on the shuttles. He’s leaning towards you, eyes still lit up.

“I honestly can’t believe this,” he says.

“Neither can I,” you admit. “It’s.. it’s really good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you,” he echoes. “Feels like a sign, doesn’t it?”

You open your mouth to agree, to tell him what you’ve been thinking the past 6 months, but Natalie is calling your name. You and Daniel both turn to look at her, and the look on her face tells you she’s so sorry. You sigh and shrug.

“I have to go,” you tell him. “That bridal party is a mess.”

“Worse than the last one?” He asks.

“No,” you say. “And I don’t have to drive any of them home, so that’s a bonus. But I think I’ll be billing them for wedding coordinator expenses after this. Or at the very least, drinking enough at the open bar to make up for it.”

Daniel laughs. “Atta girl. Should I save you a seat on the shuttle?”

You let out a puff of air. “I’m riding over with the bridal party.”

His face falls in disappointment. “Okay. Find me when you get there, yeah? I’ll have a Shirley Temple waiting for you.”

You nod. “Make it a Dirty Shirley, would you?”

He nods eagerly and squeezes your arm.

You don’t actually make it into the reception until nearly an hour later. There’s an emergency with a groomsman’s tux, and the girl who was broken up with the night before is crying again. Nothing that can’t be fixed with safety pins and tequila, but it still takes time. You check your name on the seating chart, sigh at the sight of the name next to yours, the seat that will stay empty. You find Daniel’s seat, too, a few tables over from yours. You head there first.

Daniel is sitting, a beer in hand and a very watery Shirley Temple on the table in front of him. He’s chatting with the man sitting next to him, who looks a bit starstruck. He perks up when he sees you, reaching for your drink. You take it happily and have a sip, tasting ginger ale, grenadine, and vodka, too.

“The ice is a bit melted,” he says with a sigh. “But good news! Ian here has offered to switch seats with you.”

Ian is looking between you and Daniel, eyes wide. You’re sure he did offer, likely after Daniel had told him the whole crazy story, or at least enough to convince him. You watched him charm bartenders at the last wedding- he has a way with words. Ian starts to stand up.

“That’s really not necessary.” You say, and Daniel’s face falls. “There’s an empty seat at my table.”

He lifts his brows, grinning again. His brown eyes stare deep into your own. He stands up without waiting another moment, handing you your drink and holding his own.

“Ian, nice meeting you,” he says. “I’ll still get you those paddock passes,” he promises, and you bite back a laugh. “See ya ‘round, mate.”

He follows you to your table. There’s a setting with your name on a little card, and the empty setting next to it with another name on it. You grab that card and crumple it in your hand, shoving it into your purse. He quirks a brow but sits down anyways as you greet the others at your table- cousins of the bride and friends who you’ve met a few times.

“So. How’ve things been?” You ask, and he launches into a story that has you listening with every bone in your body.

Somehow, the two of you make it all the way through dinner and speeches and the first dance before the subject of your boyfriend even comes up. You wonder if he’s been waiting to broach it. You’ve been waiting for the right moment.

He nods towards the dance floor. “You have to promise me you’ll dance to at least one song tonight.”

You blink and shrug. “Easy. I love dancing.”

He stares at you. There’s the beginnings of another wide grin on his face.

“That is not what you said last time.”

“I lied,” you admit. “Because my boyfriend hated dancing.”

Daniel nods. “Hated. Past tense?”

“He’s not dead,” you deadpan, making him laugh. “But he’s also not my boyfriend anymore.”

Daniel’s foot nudges against yours under the table. “No?”

“No,” you say with a shrug.

Daniel nods. “Pretty girl like you, you must’ve moved on pretty quick,” he says.

His tone is light, teasing. He’s testing the waters. You shake your head and pretend you don’t see the way his shoulders sag in relief.

“I’ve sworn off dating,” you tell him. Your tone is teasing, too. “After he left me on my own at a wedding, I decided men are shit.”

You’re taunting him now. The conversation has gone from feeling each other out, from digging for information, to circling each other like sharks in the water. Your heart is beating steady in your chest. His eyes are locked on yours.

“You poor thing,” he says, eyes sparkling. “Let me prove you wrong?”

The tension crackles in the air. His knee nudges against yours and you swear you’re going to combust. You down the rest of your drink in one gulp, set the glass down, and reach for his suit jacket. You run your finger down the lapel, then back up, adjusting his collar.

“I swore off men,” you repeat, leaning forwards, keeping your voice low. “But this feels like a sign, doesn’t it? Like the universe sent me back to you.”

He nods. He reaches up, captures your wrist in his hand and holds it against his chest.

“So maybe you should go get me another drink,” you suggest. “And I’ll meet you on the dance floor.”

You lean even closer, then, close enough to press your lips to his cheek. Then you stand up and walk away towards where people are beginning to gather, to where the music is loudest. You don’t turn back to see if he’s watching. You already know he is.

…..

You have a fleeting thought, later, that maybe you should’ve switched to a drink with less sugar in it at some point in the night. The grenadine feels like it’s stuck to your tongue. Danny doesn’t seem to mind the taste, though.

He’s got you up against the wall in a back hallway of the reception venue. You back is pressed to the cool surface, your arms around his neck, his hands on your hips. His lips are on yours, and he’s kissing you deeply, like he’ll never get enough. You’re feeling the same.

His knee slots between your legs, and you’re a goner. His hand slips from your hip and cups your ass, hauling you closer with ease, tilting your hips away from the wall and into his. You break away for air, gasping for it, and he moves his lips to your neck. It feels heavenly, trapped between him and the wall, his hands all over you, his lips trailing lower and lower. He reaches up and brushes the thin strap of your dress off one of your shoulders. You shove your hands under his suit jacket and press them against his toned abdomen through his shirt. He lets out a groan, the noise vibrating against your neck. You throw your head back and laugh between gasps.

You wonder if he’d have his way with you right there. You wonder if you’d let him.

There are footsteps, then, clicking their way down the hall. You scramble to push him away as someone rounds the corner, but you know it’s painfully obvious. You turn your head, already feeling mortified, and come face to face with Natalie.

“Oh, thank god,” both you and your best friend say at the same time.

Daniel pulls away and looks between the two of you. You can’t look at him for more than a few seconds. His lips are red and puffy, his eyes half lidded. You distantly wonder if there’s beard burn on your face, if your lips are just as red. Then you start to wonder how his scruff might feel on other parts of you.

“I didn’t know where you’d gone,” Natalie says, laughing. “I heard noises, I thought…”

“I’m fine,” you tell her, and she nods in agreement.

“I’ll say,” she teases.

“Nat!” You hiss.

“You’d better take good care of her, Ricciardo,” he says, and your face grows hot all over again. “I don’t care how famous you are, I’ll fuck you up anyways.”

“Nat!” You hiss again.

“I will,” Danny promises, squeezing your hip and nodding. “I’m on a mission. Trying to prove not all men are shit.”

“Good luck,” Natalie says drily. But when she walks away, she’s smiling.

He turns back to you, and this time he places both his hands on the wall on either side of your head. You look up at him, licking your lips. You still taste the Shirley Temple, and you can taste him, too, now. He groans softly and closes his eyes. It’s nice to know you’re having an effect on him, too, nice to know you’re not the only one feeling worked up. You reach up and tug on the lapels of his jacket. You brush your lips against his jaw.

“We should have one more drink,” you tell him, humming happily. “And then you should take me to your hotel.”

He swallows. You press a kiss to the center of his throat.

“I’ve never heard a better plan in my whole life.” He says.

…..

At every wedding you go to afterwards, you order the same drink. Well, really, Danny orders them for you. You’ve thought a couple times about asking for wine or seltzer or even beer. You think it might break his heart, though. It’s a tradition now, and the pink sugary concoction will always taste like that very first night. Like bare feet in the grass, the thud of beanbags against wooden boards. Like Daniel’s laugh in the middle of the best man’s speech. Like you, alone at a table, and Daniel collapsing into the seat next to you, his hand extended to shake yours.

The same hand that’s wrapped up with yours now, resting on his knee. You never want to let go. You’re pretty sure he’d be okay with that.

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams

#daniel riccardo x reader #Danny Ricciardo x reader #Daniel Ricciardo x you #Danny Ricciardo x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #honeywrites #formula 1 fanfic

[lovebugism]

fictober idea (if ure up for smut): eddie & reader go to a haunted house. eddie, obviously, gets a boner bc hes a weirdo. reader notices & begs to touch him right here, right now even tho theyve never done anything in public before. so, eddie finds a place to *kinda* hide & reader gets him off, but ofc, eddie cant let reader go without cumming as well.

thanks for requesting :D — eddie gets turned on protecting you at a haunted house, and you obv have to reward him for it (smut 18+, 1.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie’s been called a freak his whole life. He knew he was different since he could understand what being different meant, and if that made him a weirdo, then so be it. But now he thinks everyone might’ve been right about him. He’s a complete, utter, and total freak.

He walks with you through a haunted house, surrounded by creepy masks and fake blood and your screams, and he’s hard. His dick’s as stiff as a rock and throbbing with a distant ache when most people are scared out of their minds.

It’s all your fault, honestly. You’re clinging to him with an ironclad grip and using him as a shield every time something jumps out at you. Eddie can’t even be scared with you because all he can think about is how masculine he feels protecting you like this. Metalhead freaks like him never get to feel this way — all manly and muscly and brave.

And even though it’s hard to walk while adjusting his pants every five steps, Eddie thinks he’s hiding it pretty well. Well, he was, anyway. Until your ass brushes against his lap, and you clock him immediately.

Trapped in a secluded area of the haunted house, lit up red and blaring the Halloween theme song, you spin around to face him. “Are you hard?” you ask him over the music, face twisted in confusion. You’re not weirded out by it exactly, just genuinely puzzled.

Eddie freezes, chocolate eyes wide. He plays coy despite being caught red-handed. “No.”

You shoot him a deadpanned look, brows raised as you peer at him through your lashes.

He caves. “…Yes.”

“Does scary shit turn you on?” you wonder, laughing softly.

“No!” he responds with a dramatic drawl, sounding more offended than he should be. He is standing rock-hard in the middle of a haunted house, after all. He shifts his weight on his feet and stammers for an answer. “I just… I like being able to protect you and… everything.”

“Aw…” you hum, melting into a puddle at his feet. “That’s kinda sweet, actually.”

Eddie’s visibly surprised by your response. He was prepared to get made fun of at best — slapped and dumped entirely at worst. But here you are, all but admiring how much of a freak your boyfriend is.

“Wait, really?”

You shrug. “Yeah. Especially considering last Halloween, the guy I was dating left me behind at a haunted house.”

“Pussy…” Eddie grumbles under his breath.

“Exactly,” you giggle. “So this is definitely an upgrade.”

Your palms smooth up his chest and over his shoulders. Your fingers entwine behind his neck, halfway embracing him in the middle of the haunt. His hands settle warm and wide on your sides. He squeezes you gently there and lets out a sigh of relief.

“I’m just glad you don’t think I’m a total freak,” he confesses with a forced chuckle. 

“Oh, I definitely think you’re a freak,” you retort in a monotone, then flash him a sickly sweet smile. “I’m just too obsessed with you to care.”

Eddie nods and tries not to smile too wide when you lean in to kiss him. “Noted,” he murmurs.

You do a whole lot more than just kiss him, though. You open his mouth with your own and lick inside with a confident tongue. You take the breath from his lungs with little effort, leaving him more breathless than he has been all night.

“Wanna suck you off,” you murmur, slurred and muffled against his mouth.

He jerks away from you on instinct. He couldn’t hide his shock if he tried. “Huh?” he wonders in a tone that borders on cartoonish. His soft features twist in confusion.

“I need your cock in my mouth like I need to breathe,” you confess with an unabashed groan.

Maybe he wasn’t the freak after all. Maybe this whole time, it was you.

“Well, that’sa tad bit dramatic, but—” You cut off his teasing by fussing with the buckle of his belt. His eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t try to stop you. “Whoa. Okay. This is… This is great and everything, babe, but there’s— there’s people around. Someone could walk in.”

You look to your left, then to your right. There’s no one here but you and Eddie in this small square room, filled with a fiery red like the warmth swirling in your belly. You blink at him with doe eyes and shrug innocently. “I don’t see anyone.”

Eddie breathes out a laugh, one mixed with amusement and disbelief. “I just don’t wanna us to get caught, babe,” he tells you, smoothing wide palms up and down your arms. “Don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Do you want a blowjob or not?”

“Well, yeah, but I—”

“Good,” you hum with a smile before sinking to your knees in front of him.

Eddie’s too stunned to stop you. He doesn’t want to stop you.

Bathed in a sinful neon red, you unbutton his pants and free his half-hard cock from the confines of his jeans. You tug at the hem of his underwear until his heavy balls hang over the plaid fabric. 

“Shit,” he mutters when you press a sweet kiss to his weeping tip. He bites back a moan when you swirl your tongue around the bulbous strawberry head. “Shit— you’re so fucking hot.”

You worship his cock like it’s not just some random Tuesday in the middle of a haunted house. You don’t mean to, really, but he’s making such pretty noises for you — little puffs of tiny breaths and small whines he tries desperately to hide from you. 

His thighs twitch every time you run your tongue over the veins on the underside of him, going slow to feel the rapid pulse there. His fingers crawl in your hair, palms settling on your temples — not pushing you or pulling you away, just holding you as you suck gently at his aching cock.

His pink lips are parted, airing out little moans of ecstasy. His chocolate eyes are dark and glazed over in a honeyed look. His hair hangs over his face, wild and desperate to be pulled.

You let his tip linger in your mouth, drool pooling around him and soaking his twitching cock. The feeling makes him moan — a deep, hearty sound that stems from his chest. 

When his lolling head drops back, you take him in your fist. You don’t bother to work him up to a rapid pace. Using the lubrication of your spit, you jerk him with an expert hand and lick away the pearly beads of pre-cum he leaks for you.

“Ah, shit,” he groans, eyes rolled back before he squeezes them shut. “Oh, fuck, babe—”

You’re already opening your mouth for his cum before he can warn you it’s coming. You know him too well. You notice all the telltale signs before you think he does — the whimpers, the shaking thighs, the rambled moans, the way his balls draw slightly upward. You’re ready to accept his warm, salty loads the second he gives them to you. 

Eddie cups your warm cheek with a ringed hand. He tries to tell you he’s cumming, but his whines get in the way. He grunts quietly, tilting his head backward and holding tightly to you as cum pulses weakly from his slit. 

The tang dribbles over your tongue and mouth. You take it all with ease. You make a big show of it, too — lolling your tongue out of your mouth and letting his cum drip onto the softening pudge of his head. Eddie’s whole body twitches when you take his sensitive cock in your mouth again to swallow it down, like a goddamn lightning strike up his spine.

“How’d I—” His voice is hoarse, so he has to stop and clear his throat. You smile, lips swollen and spit-slick, as you tuck his soft cock back into his jeans and button them again. His eyes are half-lidded and darkened when you rise to full height. “How’d I get so fucking lucky with you, huh?”

You make a vague I don’t know sound and shrug your shoulders with an innocent grin. You lean into his palm when he puts his ringed hands on your jaw. 

“Jesus fucking christ— you’re so pretty, baby— fuck.”

He’s just rambling now, still a bit dazed from his orgasm. He kisses you harder than anyone’s ever been kissed before, stealing the air from your lungs with ease. It’s like he’s amazed by his own adoration for you — the sheer intensity of it — the way it makes him stupid enough to let you suck his cock in a poorly hidden spot of a haunted house.

You don’t get caught, though. 

Not really, anyway.

There’s a security camera in front of the door you leave from. You make sure to give it a little wave on your way out.

Eddie holds your hand the entire way back to his van, opening the door for you like a total gentleman. It’s not the passenger side door, though, but rather the one in the very back. 

“What are you doing?” you wonder, all innocent like you still don’t have the taste of his cum in your mouth.

Eddie just grins at you, lopsided and pink and boyish. “Gotta return the favor, don’t I?”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti #event: fictober!

[jamminvroomvroom]

our secret moments.

ln x fem!reader // childhood friend to lovers

in which you’re friends. best friends. but then you buy a dress for him to take off.

this one is for you guys. thank you for inspiring this, my beloved dress anons. i hope you guys love this as much as i do, and that i got it right for you! obsessed with the concepts and brain rot that went into this aaaaaaa lemme know what you think i beg <3 also sorry if the formatting gets weird, trying out smau elements again :D

songs to set the mood: DRESS by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni! smut, oblivious friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, mutual pining, general sex acts, language, an argument

5.6k words

-

your dress sparkles like a mirrorball as the lights flash along the strip.

vegas week begins with a bang; it’s the night of lando’s 24th birthday. the name of your dad’s company is plastered all over the city, as it usually is wherever there’s a race weekend. a round of golf leads to dinner plans and you get dressed up nice with your girlfriends.

you’re almost ready when lando texts you, your friends giving you a look that you brush off when they see the papaya heart next to his name. you tell him you’ll all be ready soon, that’ll you meet him and the boys in the lobby.

high heels sound against the marble floor of the hotel. you walk confidently, tall, scanning for the group of men you’ll be spending the evening with. you spot max fewtrell first, your dear friend here for the occasion, and then ash, who has his back to you. it’s because he’s talking to lando, your best friend, the man that made you fly in to sin city a week earlier than you would have liked.

he’s looking at you before you even see him, watching you walk towards him over ash’s shoulder. he’s checked out from the conversation the second he spots you, glittering under the chandeliers. he can’t breathe, because you’re wearing a dress that renders him somewhere between life and death.

but you’re getting closer, and max, who can see the look on lando’s awestruck face, nudges him so hard in the ribs. he forces himself to inhale, smile, keep breathing.

“good evening, mr norris.” you grin, squeezing his shoulder. “we starting with slots or drinks?”

both is the agreed upon answer, and you let loose in the casino. you watch him roll the dice at one of the game tables, and suddenly, you’re twelve years old again, playing board games on the floor of a hotel room, while your dads talk at the bar downstairs.

your father is, perhaps, the worlds biggest motorsport fan. he’d been sponsoring different series’ since you were little, and he hadn’t stopped expanding as you’d gotten older. that’s how you’d met lando, aged ten years old with braids in your hair, covered in mud, somewhere in the english countryside. you’d been going to kart races since you could walk, and you were sure from the first time you spoke to the small british boy that you’d be destined to meet him. he’d left a mark on you that day, something golden; he radiated sunshine.

your friendship flowed like wine over the years, nice and easy. time on the road with your father meant that lando was the friend you saw the most, and it stayed that way throughout your teenage years. lando’s step up into formula 1 was paired very well with your dad’s investment into mclaren, and five years later, you rarely missed a race.

lando was so easy to be friends with that it was only natural that he was just as easy to love. platonically. you loved him platonically. it was easy to have late night dinner’s with him in his hotel room, easy to walk around the cities you visited with him until your legs hurt, easy to fall asleep on his bed after a netflix binge. so when he told you to pack your bags and be in vegas, it was like he’d pulled an invisible string, because of course, that’s where you would be.

your friend is waving her hand in front of your face when you finally snap out of it. you’ve been staring across the room for god knows how long, and now the girls are laughing at you.

okay, so maybe it’s not just platonically, but you’d rather die than admit it.

“still gonna tell us there’s nothing between you?” nancy, one of your closest friends, teases. your other friend, mia, is giggling beside her. they’d both flown out for the race as well, and had spent the last two years helplessly watching you fall harder and faster.

“shut up,” you whine. “he’s my-“

“best friend.” they both cut you off in unison, mockingly. nancy rolls her eyes.

“he is!” you protest, waving them off.

you leave them in the dust to join the lads at the table. lando’s arm is draped over your shoulder the second you arrive.

“lost your millions yet?” you whisper into his ear. he tuts in response, knowing grin on his face.

“you have no faith in me, honey.” he bumped your hip with his as he spoke.

the game continues, and somehow, much to your surpise, lando gets richer. the walk from the casino to the club is short, and soon enough, you’re drunk and sweating under strobe lights. rounds and rounds of shots disappear and you sink deeper and deeper into the booth you’d reserved.

you let the music thrum through your body, closing your eyes in contentment. a knee nudges yours, and you open your eyes to see lando sliding into the booth next to you. he hands you a drink, and you mouth him a thank you.

“got your eye on anyone here?” lando’s head is resting in the crook of your neck when he asks. it’s obviously just so that you can hear him.

you pull back from him, scanning his face for a moment, really taking him in. the slope of his nose, curls matted on his forehead, grey blue eyes that you swear flit to your lips for just a second. just a brief second. you smile, soft and tired.

“nope.” you mouth back to him. “you?”

lando returns your smile, mirroring you perfectly. he shakes his head.

it’s around 3:30am when you crave the sweet release of sleep. your feet are aching and your head is throbbing. no questions are asked when lando offers you a piggyback ride.

you ignore the way your friends look at you both when he carries you up to your room.

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youruser: sin city for nozza’s birthday

user: are they together?

otheruser: mother?

landonorris: lost millions.

user2: the photo of the dress next to the photos of lando? she’s tryna tell us something i think.

and 444 other comments

-

you ignore the nausea pooling in the pit of your belly.

apparently, the medical centre isn’t that far away when you sprint there. harsh fluorescent lights greet you when you burst through the door, searching for a mop of curls and a burst of orange. your eyes find adam, lando’s dad, and you rush to his side.

“is he okay?” something about the fear in your eyes makes adam crack a smile. it seems there’s no hiding how you feel from anyone except lando.

“they’re just checking him over now, think they might take him to the hospital, just to be safe.” adam explains. “he was asking for you.” he smiles again.

“so it’s just precautionary?” you ignore the last bit. you ignore the way it makes your stomach twist and your brain fight to keep a smile off of your face.

“you can see him, if you want.” adam gestures towards the nearest examination room.

you’re gone before he can say anything more, bursting into the room without even thinking of knocking.

lando’s pretty much stoned. god knows what they gave him but it seems to be working; he’s propped up on the bed, cracks a sleepy smile when he sees you.

“hey, pretty girl.” he drawls, waving slowly. you pray you’re not blushing.

“scared me out there, you prick.” you joke, but your voice shakes.

“c’mere.” he frowns, so you walk around his bed. he slaps the small spot next to him clumsily, and you perch on the edge of the bed.

lando grabs your hand, pulling you in closer, eyelids drooping as he does it.

“i’m sorry, honey. always wanna race well for you.” lando is pouting. he’s fucking pouting at you.

“hey, hey, it’s fine! as long as you’re okay.”

he nods like a child being told off, but he doesn’t drop your hand. he doesn’t drop it in the helicopter to the hospital, either.

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youruser: alls well that ends well (but i’m in a new hell every time you go to the hospital)

landonorris: whoops?

user1: THE TAYLOR LYRICS HELLO?

user44: do y’all think we can’t see you.

user2: 3RD SLIDE HELLO?

yourfriendnancy: anyway. the dress ate.

otheruser: @ yourfriendnancy WHAT DO YOU KNOW

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-

“i just don’t get why you keep wearing the fucking shoes if they hurt so much.” lando bumps your shoulder with his, teasing you.

“sometimes you do what you gotta do for the ‘fit.” you huff, trying to keep up with him.

you’re on your way to dinner with lando, marking your first night in dubai. the restaurant isn’t too far, but your shoes are simply not cooperating. you’d left lando to book a table, knowing that a name drop from him would mean good food and not too many people there to watch you both eat it. after vegas, the rumour mill was working overtime, and you’d had a headache for two days as a result.

none of your other friends have arrived in the emirates yet, so it leaves just the two of you to hang out. it’s something you usually love to do, but after the whirlwind of the last few days, it makes your tummy twist.

you can’t stop thinking about the hospital, your hand in his, the way he’d demanded you accompany him despite the presence of his literal father. you absolutely can’t stop thinking about “pretty girl” or the lazy smile on his face when he said it, like it was what he always called you. he usually sticks to honey, not the most platonic thing in the world, but he said it once and it just stuck.

you’re pulled out of your downward spiral by the way he suddenly comes to a stop in the middle of the pavement. you look at him confused, but then he’s making a suggestion that makes you want to lay done in front of an oncoming ferrari.

“want me to carry your shoes? you can put them on right before we go in.” lando shrugs. you must be blushing by the way he fights off a smile.

“lando, i cannot walk down the streets of dubai shoeless.” you scowl. he chuckles.

“says who? give ‘em here. you can wear mine if you want.” lando reasons, and after staring at him likes he’s grown a second head, you cave.

you start to crouch down but he beats you to it. your breath hitches in your throat when his fingers graze your ankle. you watch in shocked silence as he undoes each clasp, letting you step out of the shoes. the pavement is relatively cool under your feet, and it snaps you out of your state. you decline his offer of his own shoes, and he’s started walking again when you stop him.

“lando, why are you doing this?”

“you took good care of me last weekend. least i can do.” he tells you, and you nod once. “c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he ushers you along and you walk the rest of the way in silence, silver heels swinging in his hand.

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youruser: dinner w bestie

user: lando took this. bet.

user3: her other friends aren’t in abu dhabi yet she has to be with lando

landonorris: how was dinner?

youruser: @ landonorris u tell me.

user4: a date if i ever saw one?

user63: are we sure they’re not just friends?

user4: @ user63 girl. be so fr

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-

the restaurant is licensed, so you find solace in a glass of white wine. lando sticks to water.

your mains arrive and you natter back and forth, discussing the end of the season and any gossip you may have acquired. you barely stop laughing, head thrown back every time he opens his mouth. it feels easy again, and you find yourself thawing out, previous worries shoved to the back of your mind.

“so what’s next year looking like? last year of your degree.” lando wiggles his eyebrows, wearing a hint of pride on his face.

“might have to stay away from race tracks for a while. it’s gonna be a busy year.” you sigh. his face obviously falls.

“how long is a while? need my cheerleader.” it’s said in jest, but desperation lies in the outskirts of his voice.

“until the summer break.” you frown. you’d gotten far too comfortable studying on the road.

“can’t you continue as you are? i’m gonna mis- your dad will miss you.” lando corrects himself and your fork clatters against your plate.

“can’t get rid of me too easily, norris.” you clean up the awkward mess before it can even become one, returning to the lighter side of the conversation.

“trust me, i’m not trying to.” he flirts. in jest.

you roll your eyes and gulp down wine.

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user2: i know who took 3/4 of these pics.

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user: mommy? huh who said that?

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lando.jpg: from the road

oscarpiastri: violation.

youruser: can u send me these. especially the one of oscar :)

user4: WAIT didn’t she post the second one a while? LANDO TOOK IT?

user81: oscar 😭😭

maxfewtrell: why don’t you take nice pictures of me like this?

user11: the wags are fighting omg

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-

your back is to his chest and the music is unbearable. it doesn’t stop you from swaying your hips against his.

nothing beats the abu dhabi grand prix’s after party.

lando stays p6 in the championship, but it’s only by one stupid point. celebration is certainly called for, and you bask in the freedom of the season ending.

you don’t even want to think about the way he hugged you when he got out of the damn car.

so you don’t. you drink and you dance and you beg for someone else to try and take you home so that you can avoid him. you’re scared, fucking terrified, and avoiding him seems like the best option.

that’s until he finds you in the sea of people, because of course he does, and you get closer, closer, closer, until there’s no room for god and his hands are on your hips.

it feels too fucking good to stop, you can’t even compute pulling away, so you let yourself go. what’s the point in trying to hide the way you feel when he’s holding you against his crotch? ah, yes. a cornerstone of friendship.

but it’s too hot and it’s too bright and it’s too loud and the anxiety hits. it hits and you can’t stop the way you freeze up against him. you’re sick to death of pretending. you’re sick to death of nights like this one repeating themselves far too often, only to wake up in the morning and act like it means nothing. like the way he holds you and looks at you and touches you means nothing.

no matter how drunk he is, no matter how far gone he is, he knows you too damn well. he’s spinning you around in his arms and pulling you through the hoards of people.

cool air lands on your flushed skin and you realise you’re in the smoking area. lando looks wrecked, but he’s watching you as intently as he can manage.

“you okay, honey? want me to take you home?” he’s rubbing your arm as he speaks and tears well in your eyes. you’re not entirely sure why.

“stay, i don’t wanna ruin your night.” you croak. you need to get out of there immediately.

“no, no, no, you’re my priority, i’ll call us a driver and w-“

“stop it, lando. i can go back to the hotel alone.” he looks bewildered, and you don’t blame him. you sound harsh, way too harsh considering what he’d offered.

“i should take you.” he replies quietly and you feel bad.

great, now you are crying.

“just- i don’t want this to change, i don’t want us to change and if you keep on like this-“

alas, everything changes, then. every unsaid word is fair game and neither of you are holding back. the shots you’ve thrown back fuel an explosion.

“if i keep on like this? what, you think i don’t see the way you look at me?” lando’s words hit like venom and you’re white hot with embarrassment.

fiery despair hits you and you’re bound to regret every word when you’re sober and sane.

“at least i don’t fuck with your head.”*

“you think that doesn’t fuck with my head? the one woman i- fuck, you know what? it doesn’t matter.” he bites his tongue but you most certainly don’t.

“what? what, lando? as if the way i look at you compares to carrying my shoes and putting me to bed and calling me pretty and every other thing that you do to drive me up the fucking wall.” you spit.

your tears burn your cheeks, you’ve always been an angry crier, and they fall faster when he practically deflates and turns away, disappearing into the club.

you make your getaway, your father’s assistant sends you a car.

you cry yourself to sleep in your hotel room, watching the orange sun rise.

-

the flight home is quiet.

your plans to fly home with lando are abandoned, and you board the earliest flight available.

you never fight with him, so you don’t know how to proceed. everything had changed in a matter of words and you ignore the lump in your throat when you land in miserable, rainy london alone.

you’re surprised to see your dad’s blacked out range rover waiting for you when you get through customs. he’d been on the first flight out of the emirates as soon as the race had finished, and you assumed he’d be asleep for at least a day or two. the man never rests during the season, from the minute the lights go out in bahrain, until the flag falls in abu dhabi. then, he biblically crashes, the excitement and adrenaline hibernating until next year. average behaviour for the world’s biggest motorsport fan.

he’s out the car and opening the boot for you before you even reach him, and he’s pulling you into his fatherly embrace when you finally do. you let out a shaky breath, having been in desperate need of a hug.

“hey, kid.” he mutters into your ear. maybe it’s good to be home.

“what are you doing here?” you ask from the passenger seat, once all of your luggage is packed into the car.

your dad sighs, turning to look at you. you groan, thudding your head against the headrest. you know that look, the one that precedes a motivational speech, a bit of tough love, and usually very sound advice that you never ask for.

“lando called me.” he deadpans. they’d grown somewhat annoyingly close over the years.

“fantastic.” you reply, sarcasm as clear as day.

“he was beside himself. told me what happened.” your dad says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“it’s so, so fine. i don’t wanna talk about this.” your voice trembles and you don’t have the energy to cry anymore.

“there’s nothing wrong with telling him how you feel, sweetheart. don’t throw something away because you’re scared.” and, here we go… you think.

“i can’t lose him.” you whisper, furiously wiping away the stray tears that fall, staring out the window.

“you won’t lose him if you tell him. trust me, kid. we all see how that boy adores you. no father ever thinks a guy is good enough for their girl, but lando comes pretty damn close.”

“i don’t even know where to begin.” you rub your temples, battling the tension headache you’d developed sometime the night before.

“well, start thinking. you’ve got a week.” you can see your dad smirking from the corner of your eye.

“what?” you blurt, blindsided. you’d need more than a fucking week.

“end of year gala, kid. pick a dress.”

fuck.

-

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youruser: commotion for the dress?

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user5: on my knees begging

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mclaren: always good to see you! 🧡

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-

you’re glowing, draped in champagne pink silk.

from the other side of the room, you watch lando, and he watches you. it’s like a game, who’s gonna break first? who’s going to extend the olive branch?

he looks so pretty in his suit that you would cry if there were any tears left in you, if you hadn’t purged them all out of frustration and longing in the week of radio silence.

you’re nursing a glass of champagne, waiting for dinner to start. the room is full of rich people with big ideas, icons of the racing world, both past and present. you make small talk with oscar and his girlfriend, exchange pleasantries with your father’s many friends, and beg that lando makes the first move.

the clinking against a glass indicates that dinner is ready to be served, and you scan the tables for your place card. apparently, the event coordinator has a vendetta against you, because scrawled in deep orange cursive on the place card next to yours is mr lando norris. you scan the room for the nearest exit. your grand scheme to flee in a floor length gown and too high heels is interrupted by the sound of your chair scraping out next to you.

you feel a ghost of breath against your bare shoulder. curls tickle your skin and then, a head rests in the crook of your neck.

he says your name, and the world stops for a second.

“i’m sorry.” lando whispers in your ear, and your heart falls to your stomach.

you whip around, holding him tight as you wrap your arms around him. the tension plaguing your body since abu dhabi dissipates in seconds.

“don’t apologise. just… i missed you.” you sigh.

“you look… fuck. you’re gorgeous.” he breathes in your ear. one hand skims low over your waist. something inside of you explodes.

you don’t even try to fight the blush that tinges your cheeks.

someone important is trying to make a toast, so you take your seats. you’re not listening to a word being said, though. you just smile at lando, and lando smiles back.

you’re gonna tell him, you decide. he has to know, although you suspect he already does; you can’t imagine another day without the privilege of him looking at you the way he is right now.

dinner is a breeze. you eat, drink, laugh at the stories exchanged. you remember why you love this world you were raised in, and find yourself grinning mindlessly at your father as he rattles off yet another wild tale from your travels. you’re lucky, you know you are, and it’s reaffirmed when the man sat beside you - who you think you love a bit more than platonically - drapes his arm over the back of your chair.

plates are cleared away and a band starts their set on the makeshift stage. the mtc is lit so beautifully, fairy lights twinkle above you casting dainty light over the makeshift dance floor.

“dance with me.” lando requests. he hates to dance at these functions, so you know the request comes from the heart.

“lead the way.”

he takes your hand and you make your way onto the floor, which is slowly filling up with other couples. his hold is firm, yet gentle, and you lean into him as he keeps you close. eventually, your ear is to his chest, and you can hear his heart hammering away. you melt further into him as the song plays out, and you wish it would play forever.

“we gonna talk about it?” lando murmurs, just loud enough over the music.

“we are.” you mumble against the lapel of his jacket.

“come home with me.”

you nod, inhaling the scent of his cologne; god, how you missed every little part of him.

you keep dancing and dancing, until the champagne runs out and the band starts to pack up.

-

the door slams softly behind you.

lando takes your coat, and you drop your bag on his coffee table. when you turn around to find him, he’s stood in the doorway watching you. there is so much to say, but you can barely form a thought.

“i can’t take this any longer.” lando tells you.

your breath hitches in your throat.

“neither can i.” you whisper.

“we can be more.”

“what do you want us to be?” your chest is tight and you’re looking at him so fucking intensely, desire as clear as day in your eyes.

“you know what i want. and i know you want it too.” he walks towards you slowly as he speaks, footsteps punctuating each word.

“i need to hear you say it.” you breathe. you’re shaking; you’re not sure if it’s the anticipation or the way you’re holding yourself back.

“all i want, all i ever wanted, is you.” he’s right in front of you and his hands are on your waist. you’re tingling everywhere.

lando’s nose bumps yours. you’re scanning his face, every line, freckle, slope that maps him out. he can’t help but look at your lips, darkened eyes flitting over your face. all you can hear is shaky breaths, and perhaps your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“can i…?” lando mutters.

you close the gap some more, lips brushing his.

“of course you can.”

he kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t. his hands cup your cheeks and yours find his neck, gently pressing your fingertips into his skin. lando’s frantic, passionate, oh so careful as he deepens the kiss, pulling you somehow closer. you hum in surprise, and you feel him smirking. he’s moving hungrily, and you’re starving, impatient when your hands find his curls. the groan he emits at the sensation makes you ache for him all over.

you’re both panting when you pull away, the urgency to breathe the only thing stopping you. the relief you feel is astronomical, your lips lock perfectly and he feels wondrous under your explorative hands. he smiles wide and you grip his collar, pressing your forehead against his.

“i was gonna tell you, and then you turned up looking like this… fuck.” lando groans, and you can’t help but lean up into him once more.

the kiss is slower this time, languid, and he licks slowly into your mouth. his pupils are blown when you break apart and his eyes flutter open. your thighs clench under your dress.

“so, you like the dress?” you giggle incredulously, buzzing from the interaction. lando looks at you like you’re stupid.

“you look…” he runs his eyes over you, pausing mid sentence tentatively.

“say it.”

“fucking incredible.”

“thanks. bought it with you in mind.” you tease, smirking coyly.

his jaw goes slack; you can see him mentally undressing you, and then he’s kissing you all over again.

his bedroom isn’t far, but he insists on carrying you there, sweeping you up into his arms. he peppers kisses over your neck, kicking the door open with his dress shoe.

lando places you on your feet at the foot of his bed, smoothing his hands over the curve of your waist, the silk of your dress. he tucks your hair behind your ears, drawing you close once more as he does, cupping your face in large, calloused hands.

“what do you want tonight?” lando asks, searching your face for any sign of hesitancy.

“need you. all of you.” you keen into his touch, and his breath hitches in his throat.

“we’ll go slow.” he murmurs.

“no.” you shake your head, and his hands drop from your face. “don’t want to hold back anymore.” he finds your ass, grazing his fingers upwards until he finds the fastening of your dress. you maintain eye contact while he drags the zip down, shivering as your hear the faint buzz of the metal.

lando stops, just for a second in an attempt to compose himself.

“take it off. bought it so that you could take it off.” your brutal honesty breathes some urgency into him.

he keeps his eyes on yours as the silk falls off your body, pooling at your feet. the cool air brushes your skin - covered only by lacy panties and stilettos - but his touch warms you when he grabs your waist. lando walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed. he places you on the bed, on top of you like a shot, kissing you into the mattress.

he clambers off of you, sliding down your body until he reaches your heels. kisses trail up your legs while he takes them off, the thud of them hitting the floor making you jump. anticipation pools in your barely there underwear; he can see you, all of you, and he cannot bring himself to look away.

“careful with those, they were expensive.” you joke, but your voice sounds wrecked already. you can’t even imagine how you’ll sound when he’s done.

“i have different priorities right now.” he flashes a grin and you lose him between your legs.

your underwear stay on when he dives into your pussy, teeth scraping over your covered folds. he can definitely taste you already, stuttering out a moan as he casts his tongue over you. you sink deep into the sheets, bucking your hips into his face, but his hold on you is firm and you have to relent. he lets go of you for a moment, just to pull your panties down, and as soon as they’re gone, he’s delving deep into you.

the sounds he’s making are obscene, his entire face buried away. lando flicks his tongue over your clit, beginning an extended assault on your nerve endings, sucking hard and fast until you whimper his name. a knot forms in your core.

lando takes his mouth off of you, lips slick and glistening. he swipes his tongue over them, sitting back on his haunches. he begins rolling his sleeves up, and you manage to push yourself up so that you’re resting on your elbows. you reach out to toy with the buttons of his dress shirt, leaving his torso exposed to you. you rake your nails over his abs, transfixed on the way he tenses, shudders under your touch. once his sleeves are out of his way, he pushes you back. your hair fans out around you as he resumes his position between your legs.

one finger ghosts over your clit, poking and tracing the bud. you’re reeling, writhing at the feeling of everything and almost nothing at all. he drags the digit down until he finds your entrance, abandoning the teasing and slipping it inside of you. he twists his wrist, adding a second finger, grinding them deep. he’s slow with it, watches the way your face twists in euphoria, finding a deep sense of pride in the way he makes you shake.

“you have no fucking idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” his words have you clamping down on him, fucking yourself onto his hand.

“the feeling’s mutual.” you gasp.

lando cocks an eyebrow. he scales your body until he’s hovering over you again, fingers still working in and out of you. the angle change is delightful, your back arching and your nipples harden as they skim his bare chest.

“is it, honey? was it mutual all those nights i pictured you next to me, right on this bed? all those nights i watched you dance in your short skirts? all those nights i carried you to bed and wished i could stay?” he whispers right into your ear. his fingers speed up.

“fuck, lando. yes.” you cry, mouth hanging slack.

“tell me. tell me how mutual it was and i’ll let you come, pretty girl.” he teases; goosebumps litter your skin. there he goes again with pretty girl. this fucking man.

“always wanted more… was too scared to ask for it.”

“oh?” he coos, mockingly.

“couldn’t lose you if you didn’t want me.” you pant. a weight lifts off your chest as you let the words slip, his efforts sending you hurtling towards an orgasm.

“not going anywhere.” he kisses the base of your throat. “ever.” he punctuates, thumb sliding over your clit. “let go, love.”

the wave of pleasure crashes on your shores and it doesn’t stop, rippling through your belly and down into your toes. lando’s name falls from your lips like a sin, over and over until you can’t even hear yourself anymore.

lando’s smiling when you come down, small and knowing. he pecks your lips, once, twice, humming into the kiss when your hands find a home under his shirt. it’s unbuttoned already, so it slides over his bronzed shoulders easily. you hear it thud softly when it hits the floor.

“what?” you catch him looking at you, giddy.

“i can’t believe we’re doing this.” he grins. his words overwhelm you.

“i know.” you beam up at him bashfully.

he undresses himself and then the wait is over, and god knows it was a long one. he finds home between your thighs, runs his cock through your folds.

“you sure?”

“don’t make me wait any longer.” you insist.

it takes you a moment to adjust; he strokes your walls nice and deep and you feel everything he has to offer you. it’s surreal, really, stretching around him like this. you’d only ever daydreamed of the possibility, and now that it’s happening you can’t quite believe it. he moans low, forehead resting on yours. you watch his eyes roll back when he bottoms out.

your lip is quivering; it’s too intense, he’s too good. he takes it slow, just like he’d insisted, but he grinds deep, long strokes making you dizzy. you leave imprints of crescents in his shoulder blades, marking his pristine skin.

you can’t take much more of this, his hips hitting yours at such a delectable pace. he drags in and out, building a blissful rhythm and you’re whimpering into his neck. your teeth dig into the muscled plane of skin, minimal pressure applied, and his thrusts turn erratic, curses tumbling freely from his pink parted lips. it makes you squirm, spilling all over him, white hot and wet.

lando collapses into your damp body, the room is humid. you drag your nails through his hair, pushing the sweat slicked curls off of his forehead, and then your hand thuds lazily against the pillow.

“i’m done pretending.” he mumbles. “i’m yours.”

the last few years of your life flash before your eyes. you think back to his buzz cut and every time you’d failed to rebound. you think of bleached hair and lies about love and how he always saw the best in you. you think of nothing but him, you, together. he’s carved into you now, you think he always has been.

you fall asleep happy. you’ll wake up by his side and then you’ll do it the morning after, and the one after that too.

-

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youruser: our secret moments

landonorris: “only bought this dress so you could take it off” 🕺🏻✨💘

youruser: @ landonorris omg shut up (omw over)

user1: FINALLY

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#lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris social media au #lando norris smau #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 driver x reader #formula 1 fic #formula 1 smut #f1 #formula 1 #fanfic #smut #fluff #angst #f1 social media au #f1 smau #writing things #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader

[theemporium]

Eddie Munson wasn’t the most romantic guy, but he tried his hardest. 

His feelings for you were overwhelming in the best way possible. He was loud and eccentric and a little too much for most people, but then again, you weren’t like most people. Wayne had always joked that it was a shock Eddie managed to snag someone like you. You always liked to joke back that Eddie was scaring everyone else off until you came along. 

But truth be told, he agreed with Wayne. 

He wasn’t sure how he managed to get someone like you to love him, but you did. You loved him with your whole heart. You took one look at him and saw the real Eddie. You didn’t see some third year senior, or some freak obsessed with a fantasy game. You didn’t see a weird metalhead, or some kid with no future. 

You saw Eddie. You saw a glimpse of him and you wanted to see more. You wanted to see more so you could love more, and it made his chest feel funny the way you decided to stick around even after seeing the person behind the mask. 

And sometimes, Eddie envied how easily the relationship seemed to come to you. You would always surprise him, sometimes with dinner from his favourite or a bouquet of flowers or a tape you knew he had been wanting. You always knew when he wanted to be held or the words he needed to hear to cheer him up a little. You always knew how to make him feel special, like it was a basic instinct for you. 

Meanwhile, Eddie was left second guessing himself because the last thing he wanted was to scare you away. He loved you. He loved you so much, it hurt. He loved you so much and he just wanted to show that. Hence, the picnic date. 

He had gone all out, having spoken to Robin and Steve countless times over the last week to set up the perfect date setting. He cleaned out the back of his van to make it the perfect fortress of blankets and pillows. He had packed your favourite foods and even splashed some money on the slightly more expensive beer that was easier to get down.

It was the perfect set up for a romantic date, but the funny thing about Eddie Munson was that he wasn’t really a romantic kinda guy. And that was something you adored about him.

You didn’t want cheesy dates and corny lines that made you borderline feel like you wanted to empty your stomach. You didn’t want over-the-top date nights or meticulously planned outings. You didn’t want expensive beers and fancy chocolate-covered strawberries that cost three times the amount they should. 

You wanted Eddie. 

You wanted your Eddie. 

You wanted your Eddie who made you feel good in a million different ways that no other man could ever compare to.

“Eddie,” you let out a soft, high-pitched squeal as your head fell back against the thick blanket beneath you. “Shit, I—”

“This,” he groaned, low and rough and gravelly. It made your stomach dip. His hands gripped the meat of your thighs, keeping them spread open as he leaned down to lick a thick strip along your cunt. “This is better than any fucking dessert.” 

“Eddie,” you whined, your hands gripping the fabric of your pretty sundress in tight fists as he began shamelessly licking the mess you had made all over your thighs.

And you really shouldn’t have been surprised. 

Eddie was a simple man when it came to you. Anything you did, the boy obsessed over because you did it and he was obsessed with you. So, his brain practically short-circuited when you came running out your house, dressed in a pretty floral dress that brushed against your thighs and had two thin straps holding it up. He about lost the ability to speak when you leaned over to kiss his cheek in a greeting, giving him the perfect view of your tits. But his downfall was when you climbed into the back of his van, giving him the perfect glimpse of the white cotton panties you were wearing that made it difficult to care about eating anything but you.

He lasted all of twenty minutes before he broke, watching a little dribble of strawberry juice drip down your chin that had him leaning over, licking up the mess before crawling over your body completely. You had breathed out his name, breathless and a little dazed when you saw the heated look in his eyes, the look that told you he wanted to devour you and that was exactly what you let him do.

But now you were two orgasms in, your body was wracked with pleasure and the boy didn’t look like he had any plans of stopping soon.

“‘s too much,” you cried out as he pushed your thighs up, almost bending you in half with your knees pushing against your chest so you were completely spread out and exposed for him. “Please, I can’t—”

“One more,” he groaned against your cunt, his nose nudging your swollen clit because he liked the way your body jerked in response. “Need you to come on my fingers, honey. Then I’ll stop, okay? Just one more, that’s all I want.” 

“Mhmm,” you whimpered, all high-pitched and whiny but your obedience made him grin. 

And he did intend to only make you come one more time for him. He intended to give you a break. He did. He really, really did. 

But then he was knuckle deep inside you, the wet and debauched sounds of your soaking pussy echoing through the back of his van as you squirmed and moaned and screamed out his name until your throat was raw. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your thighs were shaking in his hold and you were babbling incoherently, so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t have time to warn him that something felt different, that there was a twist deep in your guts that didn’t feel familiar.

Eddie could’ve came in his pants from the sight alone.

It almost felt never-ending. His fingers were pumping in and out of you, already soaked to the wrist with your arousal before you were squirting everywhere. You were shaking beneath him, mouth parted with silent screams as you soaked everything around you. As you shook and moaned and came harder than you ever had in your life. As you did something he only thought was possible in fucking pornos. 

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment when your brain seemed to catch up with your body, blinking a few times as the realisation hit you like a freight truck. Your eyes instantly teared up, your hands desperately trying to pull the soaking material of your sundress over your body to cover yourself up like it would give you some dignity. 

You opened your mouth. “Eddie, I’m so—”

“Did I say you could cover up?”

You blinked, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

He slapped your hands away, not allowing you to pull your skirt over your pussy. “I said,” he repeated, his voice lower this time as his darkened gaze caught yours. “Did I say you could cover up?”

You pressed your lips together, shaking your head. “No, sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised, and the hot tears of embarrassment were quickly replaced with the warmth of his praises. “Now, lay back down and keep your legs open.” 

“Eddie—” you started again, your stomach dipping when you noticed the mess you made. Not only were you soaked, but so was he. His clothes now stained darker, along with the blanket beneath you but he didn’t seem to care.

“Shhh,” he hummed as his hands rubbed up and down your thighs, completely uncaring of your arousal leaking and dripping down your thighs. “Only wanna hear your pretty moans, honey. Wanna hear how good it feels.”

“It?” You questioned breathlessly.

His grin was vindictive, almost sinister. “Wanna see you do it again f’me, baby.”

Your eyes widened. “But—”

“Nuh uh, what did I say?” He chastised softly, gripping your thighs until a soft whimper left your lips. “Now, either you let me hear those needy noises or I stuff something in that pretty mouth of yours to keep you quiet. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now, open those legs and let me see my pretty girl.”

.

#cece's smutober #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

[gremlingottoosilly]

That Unwanted Animal [COD Fantasy AU] CursedKnight!Ghost x fem!Reader

Ghost was cursed ever since his king helped him get back to life from his grave. A stench of death, strong and inescapable, renders him unable to find a woman who will be willing to bed him. What will happen when he finally finds a perfect mate? CW and Tags: Dub-con, power imbalance, Medieval Fantasy AU, knight!Ghost, servant!Reader, sex work, brothels, dub-con kissing and touching, obsessive Ghost, dark Ghost, basically Ghost finds a girl and forces her to be his, Ghost is a half-dead resurrected knight, soft reader, submissive Reader.

AO3 Word Count: 2426 Ch.1

The Knight is a weird one. 

He is looking at you – studying you with his eyes, ever prying, even seeing. He never blinks and you think he doesn’t need it – a walking corpse wouldn’t care to keep his eyes wet, to let his head down and take a few deep breaths to relieve himself. Then, again, a real walking corpse wouldn’t need a maiden to claim and take, a warm body to bring relief to his manhood. You wouldn’t be so sure that he is a walking corpse, a resurrected warrior – the legends are often false, after all, and wild guesses of prostitutes are not to be trusted. 

Not like you would know either way – the only path to reveal his not-death is to smell the rot from his skin and, well, it’s out of your reach. The sickness of a few years ago rendered you completely unable to smell anything – you aren’t sure if it’s a blessing in disguise now. Ghost – his name, you think, you heard, the whispers and gossip from the girls who worked alongside you – have been watching you sleep the whole night after he claimed you for the first time. You know because, well, you were watching him too, unable to fall asleep. Not with the gaze that made your blood freeze in your veins. Not with the knowledge that this man can just suck the life out of you, like he did with many of his enemies. You don’t know about this fact, of course – but you don’t want to come and try if the gossips are true. You feel sore, down there. It should be normal for a woman who works in a place like this – but you weren’t a prostitute. Never got interest from men who will pay a lot for a night with a beautiful woman, you were content with simply serving the patrons and the highest bidding girls. Turns out, the sex is…weird. Wet. Painful, but not quite. The Knight was generous in his offers, even as you tried to convince him you didn’t deserve any of it. That you were here just to serve tea, not to… “Lay still, luv. Do you not know what to do?” He pushed a pillow under your hips, making your back arch like a cat in heat. You were presented to him – involuntarily, with his large hands crowding your waist and putting you right where he wanted. Your legs spread and your womanhood glossy from arousal – you knew your fair share of what it comes when a man and a woman share the bed, but you never managed to get into it. To get a man to put something in you, that it. You felt foolish ever coming to the room he rented all for himself. For not running away the second you were put here like a lamb to the slaughter. “I’m not a c…courtesan, kind sir, this is all a…” He pushed his mouth on yours – his mask lifted just barely to let you see the light stubble and scars on his broad, chiseled jaw – before you even managed to finish. His tongue went all out, licking and sucking, making you whimper in the kiss that wasn’t your first, but surely took the crown of being the most memorable one. Surely, cursed knights had no idea about common courtesy. “Good. Wouldn’t hear jabs from Johnny then.” You don’t know who that was but, for some reason, you felt like a dog suddenly brushed against your hand. Perhaps, the lack of air from the steamy kisses made you delirious” But, it was before. Now, with his head propped on one of his hands as he was lying on his side, observing you quietly, like a predator in hiding. His other hand is caressing your shoulder, sometimes going further to play with your hair – surely, he didn’t care for the possibility of waking you up. Maybe, he knows you aren’t sleeping. Maybe, he got his fill and would let you go now. — You need to sleep. The road to my estate is a long one. You drop your act immediately, knowing it is pointless. Perhaps, you should have tried to be an actor instead of a brothel servant – would give you much more useful skills. — Your estate..? Maybe, he was so impressed with your tea-making skills, that he would invite you to be his maid. You may have lost your virtue, but it’s not like you’re interested in marriage anyway. You can live a quiet life, not dealing with anything too harsh, while receiving a nice salary working for the knight. Honorable job, stable job. Something that you should strive for. — You aren’t a courtesan. It sounded like a statement – and besides, you were telling him this before. There is no way he could have mistaken your common, grey clothing with rich gowns that expensive courtesans are wearing. Your manners are off too – the man would have to be blind, deaf and stupid to think that they would send you to him as a girl for entertainment, not servitude. — I’m not, sir. 

— Do you have family? 

— Do you? He laughs at your unexpected bravery. You close your eyes, expecting something – a kick in the face, perhaps, as many nobles love to do with servants who aren’t polite enough. Maybe, you wait for him to denounce you and finally leave you alone. Maybe, you wait for everything to just be a dream, a beautiful one with steamy scenes straight up from the romantic novels you sneaked out to read. But Ghost is as real as a bed you are sitting on. His hands are on your face, but not in a way you’d come to expect from a man of his position. He is caressing your skin, playing with hair that fell out on your cheeks – and you swear you can see his eyes crinkle with a smile when you struggle to maintain eye contact, your head suddenly feeling heavy and sleepy. Perhaps, the night activities did wear you off. Not enough to make you lower your guars though. — Yes, luv. You’re going to be a part of it. He sounds…sad. Broken, almost. You try to remember all of the rumors you heard about the undead knight, but the only thing you’re capable of thinking about is his resurrection – surely, it would mean he doesn’t have a living family anymore, right? For some bizarre, incredibly weird reason, you reach out for his hand. Not with your palm, too exhausted to actually lift it – but with your face, tilting your head to the side as you press your forehead against his hand in a cat-like manner. His fingers get lost in playing with your hair immediately, and you fight the desire to purr. What a weird sequence of events he brought upon you. He pats your head for a few minutes, allowing you two to sit in silence. You quite like it. — You can’t marry a commoner. 

— This isn’t a position for your opinion, doll. — But the madam… — Your madam can push your debt up her snobby arse. I would be bloody glad to end this whole place in a fire. You laugh involuntarily. Surely, he means it – just one look at his eyes reveals a man deeply wounded by the fact, that not even the amount of money he has or the status he holds as the greatest knight of the kingdom will but him affection. Some things cannot be done even for money – and not a single woman in the brothel would lower herself to sleeping with a walking corpse, resurrected by the most evil power in the continent. It’s a good thing you can’t sense the stench of death – and to you, Ghost is just a man. A man with big hands, cold body, and little crinkles in his eyes when he looks at you, so weak and whimpering. A man with money and power, who can get you away from this place. Surely, changing one cage for the other won’t make much of a difference – but you can trade freedom for comfort, especially when the alternative neither brings your freedom nor comfort. There isn’t a single woman who would change her place with you. You find solace in that. 

— You can’t just take me away. All of my life is here. — Bloody shitty life you got ‘ere. You will be better off with me. 

— As your conqubine? 

— As my wife. 

Oh. You can’t exactly argue with this proposal. *** He rides you on his horse for the whole day – and it isn’t at all romantic as you thought it would be based on the books. No one has ever written just how smelly horses are – how scary of a creature riders are mounting, and how hard it is to sit on your ass for a whole day. For some reason, you were expecting a carriage – but a lone knight wouldn’t be traveling with an escort, you think. No matter how much of an influence he has over this country. 

You were thinking about running away for a few times – when he was making stops to let the horse rest and would slip you on the ground, allowing your agonizing limbs to stretch out a bit. You could escape easily when he got distracted with something – but then you thought about forests, bandits, and the trajectory that your life has taken. You may not like being a pried possession of a dead man, but he by far isn’t the cruelest one out here. Many other patrons of the whore house are much, much worse. 

He slips you on his lap when you finally get to a place where you can eat and sleep in peace – his mansion is as big as they come, you think, but the desire to explore is cut short by his hands on your hips. Reminding you of your place like you didn’t already get it the first time. You stir in your place, uncomfortable when he is pushing you down on his throbbing erection – how this could even ride a horse if the only thing on his mind was your soft body pressed against his, your helpless form clinging to him like he was the only protector here. 

Ghost is supposed to be on the good side – not an Empire soldier, at the very least, he isn’t taking crying innocent trophies from the battlefield and throwing them in his harem. He doesn’t even have a bloody harem, all the women – and men alike – disgusted by the stench of death he cannot wash away no matter the hours he spends in the bath. But you, pretty maiden waiting for him at this brothel of yours, aren’t like others. Maybe it’s a blessing – maybe the gods finally answered all of his threats and sent him the prettiest angel they had. 

No matter, he is still going to make sure to use you properly. Slowly, Ghost picks up food and feeds you – and if he can judge, you aren’t exactly enjoying the feeling of his fingers in your mouth. Probing, touching – you whimper when he pushes a piece of fruit past your lips. Poor thing, he thinks – you need to learn how to treat him with respect. With love, even more, as he wants for you to like him no matter how hard it could be for a dumb little you. — You shouldn’t feed me like this, sir. You’re so polite, so king – the first time a maiden was king to someone like him. The first time a girl isn’t screaming in his hold, trashing, and crying as she feels his hands roaming up her body. Gods, you’re perfect – he can’t wait to introduce you, finally shutting Soap for good. Finally getting something good for himself, after all the years of pure shit. Just wait – he can make an honest woman out of you. Give you estate, money, give you his status and the treatment of a royalty. If Price would feel generous, you’d be a duchess in no time. And, oh he knows, Price will be generous. 

— Why not? 

Just one look at your open mouth, glossy from drool, at your trembling lips, made him harder than before. He was denied mortal pleasures for so long, he forgot how soft women are – how pretty they look while sitting on his lap. No woman would approach him after the damn Emperor decided to resurrect him – but you don’t have a choice on the matter. But you don’t behave like you want to run away, at least. He wants to think that you will like it here – not because he truly cares about your opinion, but because you’d become sweeter. — It would be a waste. I can’t taste much of anything. 

Ah. The lack of smell – he remembers. Poor girl, he thinks, not only did you spend your life serving the courtesans and patrons at the brothel, but you also did so without taking any pleasure in nice fragrances or tasty food. Such a miserable girl – tough luck that you ended up with him, where he physically cannot feel pity for you. 

— Hm. There is a downside to your affliction.

— Many people would consider the lack of smell itself a downside. — Not me. You’re perfect. No one has even told you you’re perfect. Not like this, at least. You see a jaded soldier sitting you on his lap, his hands are holding the fat of your hips and kneading it like dough, but his eyes are…warm. Not kind, not gentle, but with the level of obsession that you never thought you’d see in this day and age. You press your head against his chest in a pure instinct – not wanting to be too harsh on your new husband. Not even daring to act like a spoiled brat, even though you were never one to begin with. 

He is a lonely man, you know. Angry and cynical, killed more people than you ever known for your whole life – but it all seems so distant, so unreal now. The killings and the wars and resurrections are something from the children’s books. From dark romance novels that you were reading, not from reality. Reality is that you’re sitting on the lap of a man who took you from working in the worst place you could have. Reality is, that you’re sitting on the lap of a very sad, tortured man who might need something nice. Who might give you something nice in return. 

Hm. 

You might like the sound of that. 

#cod #cod x reader #yandere cod #ghost x reader #dark ghost #yandere ghost #ghost #simon ghost riley #yandere #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere male

[hs-is-loml]

Idiot. (x.t)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Reader

Summary: maybe you're a little frustrated that xavier found so much interest in wednesday addams all of the sudden.

Warnings: little angst, fluff ending

a/n: little blurb because i finished the show yesterday and i cannot stop thinking about him:)

masterlist

“Xavier, what’s your deal with her anyways?” you scoffed.

“Nothing.”

“That’s obviously a lie knowing this whole school knows about you following her around like a lost little puppy,” you started to walk away from him but he caught you by the wrist and pulled you to look him in the eye.

“I’m sorry, okay,” he muttered as he brushed the hair from your eyes.

“Xavier, you can’t keep doing this to me,” you broke eye contact to look down on the quad just to set your gaze on Wednesday Addams. “Great.”

“It’s about Rowan, okay?” he told you. “He had some weird obsession about her and his mom’s diary.”

“I don’t understand how that involves you.”

“Because ever since he left, I’ve been having these dreams about some sort of monster,” he explained. “Something just feels like Rowan, Wednesday, and that monster is all connected together somehow. I was talking to her about it, and she said that monster killed Rowan.”

“Xavier, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’ve been handling this all on your own,” you raised your hand to his cheek as he leaned into your touch. “You know I’m here for you always, right?”

“Yeah, I-I just thought I was going crazy, I needed to figure a couple of things first,” he gave a small smile down at you.

“Don’t push me away like that again,” you pulled his face in, to give him a quick kiss.

Though the second you pulled away, he pulled you back in placing his hands on your hips. You smiled into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck as he tightened his grip.

“Don’t let me be an idiot like that again,” he whispered leaning his forehead to rest against yours as you two pulled away for air.

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x you #xavier x reader #netflix #percy hynes white

[suiana]

Hiiii! I discovered your blog recently and I’m loving it!!!!  

Can I request a yandere who’s your younger brother best friend? (you’re both adults ofc)

He always had a crush on you but you always brush it off as some innocent little crush until your parents and your brother went on vacations (you couldn’t go cause you had to work) and he offered to stay with you so you wouldn’t be alone. And in the middle of the night he gets in bed with you while you’re sleeping and touches you

I'm sorry if this too specific 😅

(yandere younger brother's best friend x gn! reader) (cw: implied nsfw+stealing+drugging+slight somno, yandere stuff, manipulation)

you know the weird feeling you get in your gut whenever you sense something off?

yeah, you're currently feeling it.

and it's weird because... you're home alone. well not alone, your younger brother and his best friend are home.

but they're playing some game, holed up in his room so technically you're alone. so why are you feeling a sense of dread? did you leave the stove on? did you forget to submit some assignment? were you going to get killed?

...

nah, that can't be it.

you must just be overthinking. everything's fine after all.

maybe you're just tired. what you need is sleep.

so that's what you did, you turned off the television, walked to your room, got in bed, and went to sleep.

but when you woke up a few hours later, the feeling of anxiety only increased.

you woke up in cold sweat, shivering in your bed as you looked around. nothing was off, nothing at all. but why was your body on high alert? why?

your eyes took in every crevice of your room, trying to see if there was an intruder of sorts. nothing. wait, were those a pair of eyes in your closet? no way.

you blink several times and they were gone.

...maybe you need a drink. yeah, a drink.

you got out of bed, hand clutching your phone as you walked to the kitchen. pouring yourself a glass of water, you nervously scrolled tiktok to ease your nerves. but it didn't work. if anything, it only served as a reminder of how quiet the house was, even with the presence of two other guys-

what was that?

nervously turning around, your eyes were wide open as you prepared for the worst. that sounded like glass breaking! what if someone broke in- oh, it was just your younger brother's best friend...

you immediately let out a sigh of relief, not even bothering to notice how his hands were clenching around something that look oddly like your underwear and how his cheeks were flushed way too red for this cold weather.

"you scared me."

you laugh, drinking your glass of water as your brother's best friend chuckles awkwardly in response. well, at least the weird feeling in your stomach seemed to disappear. not totally but it wasn't as present as it once was.

"uh, sorry about that. just wanted to stretch my legs."

he stuffs his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, looking away from your face as he chews on his bottom lip. you smile at his response, shaking your head slightly as you walk back to your room. he was always awkward around you. this behavior was normal.

"yeah, don't worry about it! remember to tell my brother to drink some water, yeah? you too!"

you remind with a slight grin before patting him lightly on the shoulder. he flinches at the contact before calming down. huh, was he on edge too? he never flinches... especially when you touch him. weird.

whatever, maybe he was feeling extra paranoid today too. you soon got back into bed, laughing at your paranoia as he weird feeling in your stomach seems to gradually disappear.

and you even managed to fall asleep not too long after! how amazing!

and irritatingly convenient. it's almost like you were considerate for him and his obsession with you.

he soon slips back into your room, crouching beside your bed as he stares intently at your figure. his cheeks are flushed as he gently strokes your cheek with shivering fingers.

ah, you were so adorable when you got all scared and worked up. and he even got a front row seat to your fear through the gap of your cupboard! shit, do you know how hard he had to hold himself back from moaning out loud at the sight?

but it doesn't matter anymore. not when you were fast asleep.

god you looked so sweet like this, all passed out and vulnerable...

it was a little hard to get your brother to drink the intoxicated drink but the fact that he got to see this... ah, it was so damn worth it.

his hands trail down to your pretty lips, playing with them before he stops. his head drops as he lets out a soft sigh. his pants were painfully tight right now...

he then looks back at you, chewing on his bottom lip. you... wouldn't mind, right? he wouldn't be doing anything to you so... he's just doing it beside you!

if anything, it should be fine because you two would be dating soon anyways! it's fine... at least it's what he tells himself.

it's fine.

he repeats as his hand goes to undo his belt.

it's fine.

he mutters as his hand clutches your bed sheets.

it's fine.

he moans as he strokes your face.

yeah, of course it would be fine. you were meant to be his after all. he was just doing what any boyfriend would do when their significant other turns them on!

but it wasn't enough.

he shouldn't do more. he knows it. but... he can't help himself. he'll just touch your cute face a bit more... and stain your sheets a weird white...

and he's sorry that he's doing it but you were just so pretty! if anything... it's your fault! how dare you tempt him even in your sleep.

don't worry, it's not like you'll remember his touches when you wake up... plus, he didn't even do anything too drastic so... it's not that bad, right?

as long as you didn't suspect him, everything would be fine.

so just don't think too much and... don't listen to your gut, okay?

#suiana's sinners #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere younger brother's best friend #yandere younger brother's best friend x reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

[hoonvrs]

ENHA AND THEIR HABITS

PAIRING enha x gnr

GENRE est. relationship, fluff

WARNINGS none (i think??)

W. COUNT 1.6k

S. NOTE first proper drabble on this acc to ease me back in to writing, also because i don’t have time to write a full fic but shh

LEE HEESEUNG

( singing your name )

no matter where he is, he constantly sings your name

could be in public, at home, even at work

sometimes you’ll hear him singing your name out before you even hear him approaching you

has a new habit of singing your name in the middle of random conversations

he’d be talking to you in the most monotone voice ever then here comes mariah carey once your name is mentioned

would finish his sentence in the most normal voice ever as if he didn’t just scream your name in falsetto

gets weird stares from everyone around you

( adamant to talk to you even though he’s actively falling asleep )

you both fell into the routine of calling each other at night

and even though you can hear him slurring his speech and dosing off he refuses to hang up

would deny to hell and back that he is sleepy

even though you can literally hear him losing consciousness

would eventually hang up on him because the arguing became him saying incoherent words trying to prove himself

guess what: did not prove anything

expect him to call all pouty the next morning because you hung up

PARK JONGSEONG

( touch your hair )

he’s not used to long hair (or at least longer)

would easily become obsessed with touching your hair

once saw a tiktok of how to braid hair and fell into a rabbit hole

would randomly try and braid your hair after watching a few youtube tutorials and 100% creates a lot of knots

but you still let him because he’s just so cute when he tries to brush your hair carefully without hurting you (would also give the best scalp messages)

if you have curly/coily hair he’d start asking about your hair type and would loveee helping you when its hair day

camera roll is just filled with pictures of him with bobby pins in his mouth/experimenting on your hair

( intense eye contact )

jay has never had a problem with holding eye contact talking to people

so poor baby was confused when you could barely hold eye contact for a minute

after getting together he’d ask you why you did that, and you had to explain that not everyone can intensely hold eye contact the whole time

also mentioned how him being attractive did not help your case

definitely the type to follow your eyes with his whole face to tease you

also prepare your heart for being on the receiving end of his ‘madly in love’ stare

would stare at you with his pretty boy eyes with so much love and no shame, he couldn’t care less who sees him

SIM JAEYUN

( blinking at you expectingly )

everyone knows jake is a very curious boy

both you and him knew that

so, him asking you questions about everything and anything is normal to you

but after the first few questions you realise, he never fails to look at you expectantly blinking his eyes at a kind of concerning speed

don’t think he even realises he does it

but it’s the cutest thing ever so its okay

could ask you the most out of pocket question then give you puppy eyes blinking at you cutely 

would push you into an existential crisis with his questions about life and debrief you with his blinking  

( resting his head on your lap )

you can never sit down to do anything without suddenly feeling something heavy in your lap

sit down and you’ll be able to distantly hear the sound of someone running full speed to lay on you

jake is a big fan of head scratches but sometimes he just wants to be there

could both be doing you own thing

no ‘hi, hello how was your day’ just head in lap and hand in hair

once you nudged him away from your lap because he wouldn’t stop fidgeting and he gave you the silent treatment for 2 hours

nothing a few head rubs and praises can’t fix

PARK SUNGHOON

( tieing your shoelaces )

hoon is a domestic type of boyfriend 

so don’t be surprised when he likes to help you do mundane acts like putting on your coat, opening the door for you

but his favourite thing to do is tie your shoelaces

you don’t know why he likes doing it so much and honestly neither does he

bonus points if the weather is cold and you’re wearing a puffy coat with a scarf and hat practically drowning you 

sometimes he’ll watch you struggle a little when you can’t reach your shoes comfortably before sweeping in to save you

god forbid he sees you let someone else do it, you’ll have to deal with a petty sunghoon for the rest of the day

( squeezing/biting you )

when you first got together he’d randomly lean over to you and squeeze whatever limb is closest to him

sometimes it’s cute like your arm or thigh but sometimes he’s a weirdo and will squeeze your ankle if its close enough

after becoming more comfortable he’d start grabbing you more until one day he bit you

you were both cuddling on the couch watching a movie when you suddenly feel a set of teeth gently bite your cheek

cue him trying to explain himself whilst you stare at him holding your cheek in confusion

it’s a little cute like when he bites softly onto your hand but sometimes it would fucking hurt like the one time he back hugged you and bit you on the back

he suffers from high levels of cuteness aggression so it won’t be the last time he bites you a little too hard

KIM SUNWOO

( watch you do your makeup )

sunoo grew up watching his sister do her makeup in the mirror nearly everyday so of course he’d watch when you do it

would love to see the way you decide what look to do and what colours to pick

make sure to always ask for his input because he loves helping you pick your makeup

a little hesitant to ask to try on you since his sister never let him

would start smiling so hard when you let him

a bit scary though when he’s doing your makeup and giggling to himself

surprisingly good at it which confuses you because who was he practicing on hmm

( push up/take off your glasses )

when you first met sunoo you were wearing your contacts

so, when he saw you on a random day wearing glasses he became obsessed 

prefers at home dates since it usually means you wear your glasses instead of contacts

started a little thing were he’ll push your glasses up when its slides down

might slope down the little bit and now his finger is in your face

sometimes he’ll just completely take it off to mess with you

finds it hilarious when you try to read something far away and he snatches them off so you can’t see anymore

YANG JUNGWON

( watch you pick what to wear )

jungwon was shocked at the amount of clothes you had when you first started dating

which only got worse after you started stealing all his clothes

shocked gasps can be heard every time he hears you say you have nothing to wear

he finds the whole process of you picking out an outfit funny

loves when you try on multiple outfits because he knows you’ll probably end up with one of his hoodies and jeans

refuses to help you pick because you always ask only to do whatever you want 

loves when you make a pile of clothes you don’t want to wear on your bed because he can smell his and your perfume mixing from his hoodies

( poke/tickle you )

where sunghoon squeezes and bites, jungwon pokes and tickles

did it once to scare you but you didn’t react so now he’s made it his life goal to catch you off guard

convinced he can condition you into being ticklish if he tries hard enough like okay pavlov

will walk past you and jab his finger into your rib and get no reaction

where some people get bored and move on to someone who will react, yang jungwon only becomes more determined

has tried tickling you through the day to see if that changes anything. it doesn’t

lets just say a little argument ensued once when he decided to tickle you at 3am in your sleep

NISHIMURA RIKI

( constant touch )

niki is someone who needs constant physical touch 

he’s so dramatic with it too oh my god he’ll start whining about if you don’t touch him now he’ll die in two seconds

began with him trying to hug you 24/7 even when the members would tease him he wouldn’t let go

that soon changed to intertwining pinkies because walking whilst hugging is not easy

if for some reason he can’t hug or hold you pinkie he’ll make do

sometimes he’ll link your arms or pinch your clothes

another weirdo who’ll hug your leg if he has to

( looking for you in the morning )

he’s become accustomed to waking up with you that if he doesn’t see you next to him he’ll get up to look for you

it’s cute to you when he comes into the living room or kitchen dishevelled and hugs you

but scares the fuck out of his members

they were convinced for the first month he was sleep walking

would see niki at ass o’clock going through each room calling out your name like a broken record

would take him a minute to process the fact that you’re not there

would get sent a new videos daily from one of the members of a groggy niki going through the rooms saying your name

perm taglist @mesopret @tnyhees ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @chiyuv @lazysmushi @flwoie

#saints works ( madewithlove. ) #enhanet #sunghoon just like me🤞🏼 #biting to show affection>> #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #heeseung drabbles #jay drabbles #jake drabble #sunghoon drabbles #sunoo drabbles #jungwon drabbles #niki drabbles #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #niki x reader #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #jay fluff #jake fluff #sunghoon fluff #sunoo fluff #jungwon fluff #niki fluff

[www-jungwon]

in which roommate!heeseung insists on decorating, and you're sure he's up to something (why has he got so much mistletoe?) ୨୧

tw. yellinggg, kissing, idk what rlly went through my head when writing this its kinda cringe bro wc. 887

“ok, i give up.” heeseung looks over in confusion, holding a box of christmas decorations in his hand.

“just tell me! i give up.”

“what are you talking about?” he squints, shifting the box in his arm.

you shift on the couch agitatedly, pausing your tv show. “why are you hanging all these up? like, do you want my room, or you feel bad because you broke something that’s mine, or you’re trying to hint you want-”

“it’s for christmas spirit!”

you roll your eyes. you’ve been trying to figure out your roommate’s obsession with decorating the apartment for the last week, but every time he’s answered with the same response. ‘christmas spirit.’ christmas spirit your ass. you’ll figure it out, you just need a couple more days.

“sure.”

he raises his eyebrows innocently. “i don’t know why you don’t believe me.”

“maybe because in the 3 years we’ve lived together you haven’t ever even lifted a finger to help me put decorations up?”

he shrugs. “change of heart.”

definitely up to something.

–

heeseung is being weird. he keeps trying to hide his decorations when you walk in on him, like he’s scared of you seeing them. even though you’ll see them anyway, because it’s your apartment.

after seeing him drop his box for the third time in two days, it clicks. a party. that explains his controlling of the decorations to look his way, and the secret phone calls he’s been making. you absolutely hate crowds, and your one rule the only time you’ve lived here has been no parties. he’s never complained before, but you suppose he’s finally gotten tired.

you’ve never felt more betrayed. heeseung, the most considerate roommate you’ve ever had, heeseung who keeps track of the amount of chocolate in your storage, heeseung who buys you things just because they reminded him of you, heeseung who is in charge of all the groceries, no discussion. heeseung, who you think you might be in love with, that heeseung, trying to throw a holiday party in your apartment without your permission when you leave tomorrow.

and as you see him emerge from the doorway, his head brushing the mistletoe he hung, fiery anger builds up inside you. how dare he hum, act all normal like you didn’t just watch him try to hide his decorations, how dare he do this secretly, how dare he make you love him while he’s betraying you like this?

so when he asks what you want him to make for dinner, you want to hit him in the face.

“you what?” he asks, and the way his nose scrunches in confusion only makes you angrier, and you snap.

“lee heeseung, i hate you!”

his doe eyes widen in surprise.

“what? i-”

“you’re so stupid! i can’t believe you would do all this just for a stupid holiday party! over me!”

you’ve stepped up to him, him backing up slightly as you walk forward.

“i don't know what-”

“and i wouldn’t have cared if you just asked! i’m not even gonna be here! but i thought that you at least cared about me enough to ask instead of sneaking around.”

“y/n, i-”

“and you find it so amusing when i ask you why, and this whole time it’s been for a party? you’ve been lying to me, sneaking around, just so you can throw a party without my permission? do i mean that little to you,” your words are choked by a sob, “that little, that-”

“y/n, i promise i-”

“that little, that a party is more important to you than me.” tears cross down your cheeks, tracing over the edges of your face.

heeseung’s brows are furrowed now, a concerned frown pushed onto his face. “y/n, i swear-”

how dare he act concerned, when it’s his fault. 

a yell rips out of you, “you don’t get to care about me now! not after, not after this, not after i’ve spent three years loving you and you’ve just thrown all my trust away for a party.”

he’s broken now, you can see it on his face in the way his brows are drawn in and you know you’ve hurt him, and you feel awful. he watches you carefully, taking a deep breath before he moves almost imperceptibly closer.

“y/n.”

you sniff weakly, “yeah?”

his voice is soft with hurt. “i love you, too. and i’d never throw a party without your permission, and it wasn’t that, and i’m sorry i was being so secretive but i promise it wasn’t because of that and i think- i think you should look up.”

you hadn’t realized how close you were to him now, your hands brushing his. you turn your head up slowly, your lips almost pressing against his, and you see it.

the mistletoe.

“i love you, y/n. and i thought- i wanted to tell you, before you left and i didn’t know how, but since you were always decorating instead of me doing anything i wanted to do something nice for you, and then i realized maybe if i could put mistletoe up then you would get the hint and i wouldn’t have to say anything.”

his arms slide around your waist tentatively, pulling you into him, and you look down, falling into him as your lips push into his.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

part of winters of us, an advent calendar : day 009 prev

extremely late sry

comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist !

general @bucketofhiros @addictedtohobi @ariadores enhypen @cutesiepatootsie @sammm5225 @eupherbia

#❄️ — winters of us. #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung angst #heeseung fluff #enha x reader #enha soft hours #enha soft thoughts #enha imagines #enhypen scenarios #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung #lee heeseung

[strniohoeee]

Voracious

Pairings: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader ⚠️SMUT⚠️

Synopsis: Matt has this weird obsession with being a predator and Y/N being a prey, but will she fall for it….

Warnings⚠️: ERMMM…..this is juicy smut so if you’re a child go to bed thank youuuuu. There’s spit, manhandling, use of the word slut, face smacking, throat grabbing, feral Matt….i feel like that’s it but bitch this was DIRTY😏

Song of the chapter: Tear You Apart- She Wants Revenge

⚠️This is an 18+ imagine, so minors do not interact⚠️

I want to hold you close

Soft breasts, beating heart

As I whisper in your ear

I want to fucking tear you apart

Matt had this weird obsession with wanting to chase me around a wooded area like I was his prey. At first I humored him a little bit, laughing at this crazy idea, but when it wouldnt stop, and he started to constantly bring it up I got concerned.

“Matt no, I’m scared of the woods, and I do not want you chasing me” I told him

“Come on babe. It will be so much fun, I chase after you while you’re scared and aroused” he said back

“Why the fuck would I be turned on by this” I asked him

“Oh I didn’t tell you? Well see I’m the predator and youre the prey, and if I catch you I get to fuck you how I want” he responded. This sent a shiver down my spine, and weirdly I was turned on, but still very very scared.

This conversation happened about two months ago, and suddenly stopped, so I figured his little fantasy was over.

Matt and I had flown to Boston to visit his parents, and Nick and Chris had already been there for a week at this point.

Two days after being in Boston, Matt told me he had a surprise for me. He wanted to take me on a little vacation to get away. Of course I agreed because a vacation by ourselves was what we Needed.

I didn’t ask many questions, but once I started to realize we left a busy city and entered wooded areas I started to feel uneasy.

“Where are we going Matt?’’ I asked looking over at him

“It’s a surprise baby” he said looking over at me and smiling

“I’m getting a little nervous as there is no outside life here” I told him shifting in my seat

“Baby don’t worry okay” he said to me grabbing my hand

About 30 minutes later, and we had arrived to a cabin in the middle of the fucking woods.

“Matt what the fuck is this?’’ I asked in fear

“A cute cabin get away” he said nonchalantly

“No this is frightening” I said grabbing my bag, and walking to the front door

“Oh come on it’s literally so cute here” he said rolling his eyes

“Yeah maybe to a serial killer but not me” I told him as he opened the door and we walked in

“Y/N just enjoy this please” he said groaning

“But im scared” I said walking into the living room

“Oh my god! Do you hear that??” He asked me

“HEAR WHAT” I said jumping

“Absolute fucking silence” He said smuggly

“Oh you dick! You scared the shit out of me” I said smacking him lightly on the arm

“All that peaceful silence, that will soon be broken when I fuck the shit out of you” he said pulling me in to kiss me

“Matt you’re filthy” I said kissing him back

“Only for you” he responded

Matt and I had made dinner laughing and talking the whole time, and after we ate we sat on the couch for a while laughing some more. And we both decided to shower. The whole shower Matt was teasing me, but wouldn’t do a single thing and it was making me a little bit annoyed

Once we hopped out the shower and changed I had laid in the bed and Matt was out in the living room doing god knows what.

“Babyyyy I have a surprise,” he said, calling from the living room.

“Oh yeah what is it” I asked him

He walked into the bedroom and grabbed me

“Alright close your eyes and follow me” he said, and I shut my eyes letting him guide me

All of a sudden I felt a silk material wrap around my eyes

“Matt what’s going on” I asked him confused

“Shhh you’ll see” he said while letting his fingers brush against my back

“You’ve been such a good girl for me lately. Letting me tease you, and not asking for more” he said in my ear, sending chills down my spine

“I want to reward you for that, my good good girl deserves a reward doesn’t she?” He asked smacking my ass and then gripping it

“Oh my god…..” I let out immediately getting turned on

“Answer me baby” he said grabbing my waist and feeling up on me

“Yes Matt. I deserve it” I said sighing and throwing my head back a little bit

“I will give you exactly what you want, but first we play it my way” He said walking around to the front of me

“Umm okay” I said meekly

“You’re going to go outside and run. I’ll give you a 10 second head start, but if I catch you, which I will. I get to fuck you so hard you’re a weeping mess” he said

“Matt no! I’m not doing this” I said sternly

“No?? Oh no no baby. We’re not negotiating this” he said laughing

“How bad are you yearning to be fucked like a good slut” he asked me

“Matt…..” i told him in a warning like way

“Answer the fucking question” he said bluntly

“No” I told him

“If I put my hands down your pants right now you’re telling me you won’t be dripping for me?” He asked

“Can’t you fuck me normally” I asked him

“No I can not. So you’ll be listening to me” he barked at me

“Fine Matt let’s get this going. I want to be fucked already” I told him getting annoyed. He hummed in approval

He unlocked the front door and opened it, and then came over to me removing the cover from my eyes, and immediately I booked it out the front door.

I ran so fast into the wooded area hiding behind a big tree that I knew he hadn’t seen.

10 seconds later I hear his loud voice

“You better find a better spot because you’re making this too easy” he yelled

Slowly I started to walk deeper into the woods taking zig zag patterns. However I was starting to get more and more worried as it was really dark, and I could no longer see the house

“Oh Y/N” Matt said in a sing-song way that sent shivers down my spine. I heard him step on a branch, so I ran away from him again trying to keep my breathing steady. But it was becoming harder, as I was genuinely getting scared

As I was backing towards a tree I stepped on a twig, and the sound of it was enough to echo throughout the trees

“I think i got you” I heard Matt yell, but I couldn’t tell from what direction, and then it got really really quiet

I wanted to give up, and yell out to him because I was getting really really scared now. Just as I went to spin around the tree there stood Matt

“BOO” he said, and I jumped back screaming

“What’s the matter Y/N? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost” He said and immediately grabbed me, throwing me over his shoulder

“MATTTTT STOPPP MATT” I started to yell

He smacked my ass to get me to keep silent as he walked us through the woods back to the house. Once we got back to the house he got us through the front door and slammed it shut. Walking us to the living room and dropping me to the floor

“I got my pretty girl now, didn’t I?” He asked with a scary look in his eye

“What are you going to do with me” I asked looking up at him

“Whatever I want to do, and you’re going to take it” he said

“Yes sir” I said still looking up at him

“Get on your knees now” he said, and I immediately got on my knees, he removed his shirt, and started to unbuckle his belt

“You’re gonna suck my cock like the dirty little whore you are” he said as he started to pull his pants down

“Yes whatever you want I’ll do” I said looking up at him from my lashes

“Open your mouth” he said, and when I did he leaned down a bit and spit into my mouth. “Swallow” he said and I did

“Good girl” he said petting my face, and then lightly smacking me

When he backed away he started to jerk himself off, and nodded his head for me to come closer. He spit down onto his own cock and continued to jerk himself off

“Come on baby use that pretty mouth of yours” he said, and with that I grabbed his dick putting it into my mouth, and immediately deep throating him

“Fuckkkkk” he said rolling his head back

I was bobbing my head up and down, and when I got to the tip I would suck extra hard. Matt was whimpering and moaning.

“Yeah just like that you’re doing so good” he told me as he grabbed the back of my head. I gagged a few times and the vibrations made Matt moan. That sound alone was making me so fucking wet.

Suddenly he pulled me off him. Kicking his pants off and roughly grabbing me. He lifted me up, and immediately pulled my shirt off of me, and then moved us over to the coffee table. He pushed me down to kneel infront of it, and then he kneeled behind me

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t remember your name” he said

“Please Matt, I need this” I said looking back at him. He pulled me in by my throat into a disgusting, sloppy, needy make out

He pushed me over the coffee table, sending everything falling to the floor. And immediately pulled my underwear down. Smacking my ass and then massaging it

“Mmm so fucking wet for me” he said looking at my glistening cunt, and I just moaned like a bitch in heat

“Please Matt I need you” I told him

He spread my legs a little further apart, and started to massage my clit rubbing my arousal everywhere

“Fuck MATT” I said from the sudden pleasure

He put his middle finger and his finger finger in his mouth, and then immediately inserted them into my pussy

“Oh my god” I said, shuddering. He started to finger me at a downwards motion towards the ground, and my legs started to shake

“Your pussy just takes any part of me so well” he said as I heard his fingers slide back into me at an ungodly paste

“Matt Matt I’m going to cum” I told him, and I wish I never did because he ripped his fingers out of me

“Not on my fingers baby” he said smacking my ass again

He leaned down towards my pussy and spat. This made me gasp and squirm. Slowly he ran his dick up and down spreading my arousal, and his spit everywhere

“Gonna take it like a good girl” he said before sliding into me

“Oh my god” I said with my back arching back like a cat

“Fuck” he sighs lightly slowly rocking into me. Allowing me to adjust to his size.

Within a minute Matt started to pound into me ruthlessly. Grabbing my arms back allowing my back to arch as he pound into me

“Matt fuck matt matt” I said clawing at his arms

“Shut up, and take it” he said breathing heavily

Continuing to pound into me non stop. He was drilling the fuck outta me, and all I could do was cry out like a bitch

“You’re so good to me baby” He said letting my arms go allowing me to lean over the table again

This time he grabbed my hips, and started to thrust into me harder and deeper

“Oh godddddd” I pounded almost crying out

Matt was above me grunting and moaning as his sweat started to drip down on me.

“Fuck Matt I’m so fucking close” I said gripping the wooden table. I’m sure there will be marks in it from how hard I was holding onto it

“Me too baby” he said, and immediately started to slam into me. Breathing extra hard than before. And the wooden table was digging into me in such a deliciously painful way

“MATTTT IM CUMMINGGG” I screamed out arching my back, and clenching down onto his cock shaking and trembling as I came all over his cock. His name falling from my mouth like a mantra. I leaned against the table limp and exhausted and in total bliss at the crazy orgasm I just had

Matt’s thrust be came deep and slow, and within three more thrust he was cumming deep inside me holding us together

“Fuck fuck fuck Y/N” he was moaning while slightly convulsing as his lowe abdomen contracted

After we caught our breath he pulled out allowing his cum and my cum to drop down onto his cock and lower stomach

“Fuck Matt. That was so fucking good” I said as he helped me off the floor, my knees immediately feeling like jello

“You’re so fucking good to me” he said kissing me while holding my chin

“Whatever weird ass fantasies you have please just tell me, because if it ends like this? I want more of it” I told him

He smirked at me and nodded his head biting his lip

“Lets get cleaned up baby” he said as we both walked to the bathroom to take a second shower of the night.

The night ended in us immediately knocking out after our shower because of how physically drained we were.

The End

Ouuuu hope you guys my lil cabin in the woods imagine. I have 8 more stories to write 🤭🤭 so let me stfu and get to typing. Once those are done I’ll probably open my requests up again💋

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #Spotify

[billyloomiswhore4]

Crazy for you - Chapter Three

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Reader (Billy Centric for now.)

A/N: my writing skills are progressing the more and more i write this story, and the more we get into the story the more and more it gets into Billy and Stu’s fucked up ness, just a fair warning it will get pretty intense in later chapters because this is a kinda fucked story (it is scream after all) but still comment what you like about it and send me any questions or things you want to see in the story in my requests

Warnings: invasion of privacy, reader is fucked up, slight billy x stu (it’s implied that they jerk off together lol.), mention of masturbation, violence, in depth talk of my version of Billy’s past, talk of gutting things, 

-

Tatum drove you home rather quickly, taking notice of your nervousness. She pulls up at your house, but when you reach for the door handle, she presses the lock button. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Billy?” She questions, staring at you. 

“Nothing, he was just acting weird.” You sigh quietly, “He was really drunk.” 

“Did he do something to make you uncomfortable?” She’s asking too many questions, and you don’t want her to tell Sydney so you just smile at her softly.

“Thanks for worrying about me but I’m fine, goodnight.” You unlock the door and get out of the car before she can even question you. 

She stares after you, watching as you enter your house before pulling out of your driveway and going home. 

You spend the rest of the night sitting on your couch watching random reruns. You stand from the couch around twelve-thirty, and walk towards the stairs. You’re halfway up the stairs when the landline starts ringing. You huff, walking back down the stairs and to the kitchen. 

“What’s up?” It wasn’t unusual for Stu to call you late at night so you just assumed it was him. 

“Hello.” A voice you don’t recognize sounds through the phone. 

“Who is this?” 

“You tell me your name, I’ll tell you mine.” The voice teases, assuming you’ll just hang up. 

“My name’s Y/n. Now you have to tell me yours.” You smile.

Outside your house, Billy practically facepalms.Why the hell would you tell him your name? What he didn’t know was that you were ecstatic, hoping that this modulated voice was the man who’d been killing people all over woodsborough. You weren’t as dumb as you seemed, just curious and kind of obsessed. 

“Hello?” You say, hoping you didn’t scare whoever it was off by being too strange. 

“Yeah princess?” Your insides flutter at the nickname. What is wrong with me? You think.

“What are you doing?”

“Watching you.” He was hoping to see the usual fear strike across your face, but it didn’t come. 

“Oh…okay.” You were suddenly quiet. 

“What’s the matter, baby?” He doesn’t miss the way you try to subtly rub your thighs together. 

“Nothing!” You abruptly hang up the phone and run up the stairs to your room. He lets out a frustrated sigh, that wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for. He wanted you to scream, maybe even cry. 

He was hoping to play with you a little, just enough to satiate his violent urges, but not enough to fuck up the plan.

“What are you doing out here?” A voice says behind him. He jumps, turning around. He’s met with Stu, standing there in his usual attire. 

“Nothing.” Billy attempts to move past him, brushing shoulders with him. But Stu grabs his arm, pulling Billy to face him. 

“So why are you dressed in the costume, and standing outside her house?” 

“I was just messing with her, Stu. That’s all.” he says and then mumbles, “It didn’t work very well.” 

“Yeah probably because she’s got the hots for ghostface.”

Billy looks up from the ground, “What?”

“Look man, I was gonna tell you sooner but I was worried it would drive your psycho ass over the edge.” Billy looks at him, seemingly offended. “I’m not on edge.” 

“You can’t even be alone with her for five minutes without losing your shit.” Stu crosses his arms across his chest. “Let's get out of her yard and we’ll talk about this back at my place, Okay?” 

“Fine.” 

— 

“What did you mean?” Stu and Billy are sitting on Stu’s bed, leaning against the headboard.

“When I missed school last wednesday, I wasn’t really sick. I snuck into her room to do the usual snooping and jacking off but instead I found her diary.”

Billy jerks up at this, turning towards Stu. “what’d it say? Did it say anything about me?”

“Why don’t you read it for yourself?” Stu holds up the pink book, and Billy snatches it out of his hands. 

“When’d you snag it?” 

“While you were on the phone with her, so there better be some fresh stuff in there.” 

Billy opens it the day after he and Stu killed Casey Becker, and starts reading. 

‘Dear Diary, right now it’s 11pm and I can’t sleep. After what happened to Casey that’s to be expected but honestly it’s not because I'm scared. It’s because I can’t stop thinking about how they found her. She was strung up in a tree, with her insides hanging out. Alex Marrier somehow got his hands on a picture of her, he didn’t go into detail about how he got it but I didn’t care. He showed it to me and immediately, my fucked u brain thought, ‘Wow, that’s amazing.’ I don’t know what’s wrong with me but when I think about how someone could have done that to her, all I can think about is how they would treat me. Would they fuck me up like they did her? It makes me all warm inside and I’m not sure why.’ 

He finishes reading that page and then turns to the most recent one. 

‘Dear diary, I’m thinking about it again. The news said the killer was seen wearing a costume, something like a ghost screaming as a mask, and black robes. It’s stuck in my head, I want the killer, whoever he is, to come into my room and take me away while I’m sleeping. I want him to have his way with me, whether that means torture me or fuck me, i don’t care. His work is borderline artistic and a straight up masterpiece. I’m sure of what I want, but I’m not sure how to get it.’ 

He stops reading at that, and he’s half hard already.  

“Fuck.” Billy mutters, raising his knee to hide his hard on from Stu. 

“Literally, she’s totally fucked up.” Stu laughs, “And dude you don’t have to hide that you're hard.”

Billy makes a sound, almost like a groan, and leans back putting his hands over his face. “Don’t say that. Don’t talk about it.” 

Stu laughs again and they sit in silence for a moment before Stu says, “Hey, do you wanna watch Blood Feast and jack off,”

“You just wanna watch me jack off to gore.” 

Stu laughs again.

—

You spent that night with your fingers buried in your cunt, cumming over and over again until you were satiated.  

The next morning you wake up sore, and exhausted. You take a shower, and get dressed. When you go outside, Sidney and Tatum are waiting for you in her bright red car. You step into the backseat and are immediately bombarded with questions from Sidney. 

“Have you heard from Billy? What happened last night? Did he do something?” Of course Tatum told her, she's her best friend. You sigh.

“No I haven’t heard from him, and nothing happened, he just got really drunk.” You clarify, and Sidney huffs. It seems like recently she’s been looking for any reason to break up with him. 

She talks about him a lot, mostly about how distant he’s getting. She says that they used to hang out everyday but now she’s only with him once or twice a week. She complains about it a lot, and it makes you kind of angry. Billy and Stu are your friends, well you aren’t very close with Billy but you and Stu are basically joint at the hip. 

By the time you get to the school, you’ve had all the Tatum and Sidney you can handle for the morning. It’s not that you don’t like them. No, you love them. It’s just that, together they can be a bit much. 

When you get out of the car, Stu, Randy and a very nervous looking Billy are standing on the sidewalk waiting for you, Tatum and Sidney. There are news vans everywhere, the death of Casey and Steve still fresh on everyone's minds. 

To be fair, Billy thought you would have immediately gone to Sidney about what happened and she would dumb his ass. Which he wouldn’t hate but it would ruin the entire plan. But when Sidney gets out of the car and goes straight to give him a hug, he realizes you didn’t

Although, she definitely would if she knew about the fact that your panties are tucked away in a box underneath his bed, and if she knew the amount of times he’d jerked off with them. But it doesn’t matter because she doesn’t know and she won’t live long enough to find out. 

While he was nervous, he’s now excited because tonight he and Stu are going to call and attack Sidney. The itch underneath his skin, the one he’s had since he was a preteen and he and Stu went on their first hunting trip together, would soon be scratched. He had killed his first animal that day, but it definitely wasn’t the first time he’d hurt someone. When he was younger he’d made it a habit of ‘accidentally’ pushing kids off the playground just to see the fear in their eyes as they fell and listen to the way they’d cry.  The first animal he’d killed was a rabbit, it was small and Stu’s dad was there so he couldn’t gut it like he’d wanted. 

Stu would always go on and on about how amazing it was to gut animals. Billy believed him, and after that first kill he was itching to gut something, but he couldn’t. So when he got back to Stu’s house, they’d snuck up to his room with some rated R movie to watch it and see people get torn apart. 

But when he killed Maureen, it really set him off. He couldn’t get enough. He and Stu had to go on more and more hunting trips, and watch more and more gory movies to satiate himself. 

Sydney says something he doesn’t quite catch, and by now they’ve made it to the doors of the school and He watches as Randy holds the door with a big stupid grin on his face, and you have the audacity to laugh and smile back at him. 

His grip on Sid tightens unintentionally. The group split up to go to their perspective classes and he thinks doesn’t have to see you again until third period. 

But he does. 

—-

taglists: @tzkyo @buzzybee-26 @brazilianneighbour @sammanna @wickedsandwich08 @bdhwiqbwo @roygbivvie @dixxhotgirl2

#billy loomis fanfiction #billy x stu x reader #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis smut #slashers x you #stu macher x reader #stu macher smut #scream 1996 x reader #scream 1996 smut

[evansbby]

not sure if this is overboard, but obsessive dark (maybe mafia) ex-husband!ari hiring a friend of his to rough his ex-wife!reader up to scare her back into his arms is 😵‍💫

like maybe it took sooo long to get him to sign those papers, but just when u think you're free from him and his bullshit, you're right back to him and the soft, manipulative sex after...

sorry if this didn't make sense lol

Pairing: ex-husband!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

Warnings: dark!Ari, smut, daddy kink, dd/lg, babying, dubcon, cheating, inappropriate use of a stuffed animal.

Summary: Your daddy ex-husband, Ari, takes care of you after a scary encounter.

“It was awful!” You sob, tears flowing down your face. And you’re so overwhelmed that you don’t even notice Ari scooping you up onto his lap. “Oh, Ari! The scary man, he just grabbed me! I tried to fight him off, b-but—”

“But you’re just a little baby girl.” Ari completes, encasing you in his warm embrace where you can’t help but bury your face in his chest. He’s so big and broad and familiar. You know you shouldn’t be letting yourself get this close to him, but you’re so scared that you can’t help it.

“My poor baby,” He coos, blue eyes filled with concern as he brushes your hair back and rains your face with kisses. And you should put a stop to this, you really should. But something stops you, his voice so beguiling, “See, this is what happens when naive little girls like you go out by yourself.”

You hiccup, finally noticing how you’re in Ari’s lap, how he’s tracing shapes on your bare thighs and hugging you close against him. You gulp — isn’t this wrong? He’s your ex-husband, and you’re pretty sure he has a girlfriend now who lives with him. Where is she anyways?

“M-Maybe we shouldn’t be this close.” You try to scoot off his lap but Ari holds on to you tightly.

“Don’t be like that, baby. I know you’re scared, and you need your daddy to kiss it all better like how I did before.” Ari continues to press his lips against your face, and you also feel his thumb graze against your nipple through your top, but that was probably accidental, right?

“B-But what if your girlfriend walks in?” You blink up at him.

“She’ll understand that you’re my baby girl and it’s my priority to take care of you and make sure you’re safe.” Ari says importantly, suddenly standing up with you still in his arms. And like a koala, you cling to him — as if you really are his little baby and he’s your daddy.

“And look at you, shaking like a leaf because you went out at night by yourself. You know I don’t like that, baby. If you were still my wife, I’d make sure you had a strict curfew, have you safe at home and in my bed before sunset.” All you can do is gape at him as he begins to carry you up the grand staircase. “In fact, I think you need to stay in my bed tonight, where I can keep an eye on you.”

Your jaw drops, “N-No, Ari, we can’t do that! That’s too inappropriate. Besides, where would your girlfriend sleep?”

Ari rolls his eyes, “She’ll sleep in the guest room. She understands how important you are to me, sweet girl, and how my first priority is keeping you safe.”

“B-But—”

“Shhh, no buts, sweetie.” Ari’s pushes his thumb gently past your lips, and you instinctively suck down on his digit, “Mm, that’s right sweet baby, just keep quiet and suck on daddy’s thumb, just like how you used to.” And it’s true, back when he was your husband, often Ari would make you suck his thumb to calm you down — and it usually worked.

You keep your mouth shut for a bit after that, tired eyes drinking in the inside of Ari’s mansion, and all the weird men that loiter downstairs — Ari’s workers. One of them has a buzzcut just like the scary man who’d grabbed you on the street earlier…

Ari takes you up to his room, and your mind can’t help but go blank when he babies you this much. He insists on brushing your teeth for you, sitting you down on the bathroom counter. And then he changes you himself, not letting you lift a finger while he puts one of his old shirts on you. And you feel so snuggly and safe in the huge shirt that smells like him, so you don’t object as he carries you over to his king-sized bed.

“And look who you left behind when you moved out.” Ari opens one of his drawers and whips out a white stuffed rabbit, with floppy ears and a pink bow-tie and glassy blue eyes, and your heart skips a beat.

“Floppy,” you murmur softly, making grabby hands almost immediately because it’s your favourite stuffie. But it’s strange — you definitely remember packing Floppy with you when you’d first moved out of Ari’s house. And then a few months into living alone, and the little stuffie had disappeared. How had he ended up here?

Ari tosses the stuffie into your arms before getting into bed next to you, “I was meaning to return him to you, but you know how busy I am.”

You cuddle into Floppy and nod, “I understand, daddy.” You’re not quite sure what it is that Ari does, but he’s always ordering his men around and having important meetings and sometimes he goes on special business trips. He’d never told you details about his job even when you were married, always insisting that baby wives like you had no business worrying about adult stuff like jobs.

Ari wraps his huge arms around you, pulling you into him under the covers, “Let daddy hug you, baby. You must still be so scared.”

“Can Floppy have a hug too?” You can’t help but ask babyishly. It’s your body’s natural response to Ari when he’s babying you like this. And living by yourself all these months since the divorce, you’ve had to step up and take care of yourself — and things can get very stressful sometimes. But in Ari’s arms, all your worries and fears seem to dissipate.

“Of course Floppy can cuddle with us too.” Ari says kindly, and you love how soft and nice he is to you. Others in town find Ari to be a very scary and intimidating man — but you can’t seem to understand why. It’s probably because of his job, but you have no idea what he does so there’s nothing you can say about it.

“My little baby, safe in daddy’s arms again,” Ari murmurs, pressing kisses to the top of your head. And you’re sure it’s accidental, but you can feel his hard bulge pressing against you as he hugs you close. It makes you squirm — maybe later he’ll visit his girlfriend in the guest-room to relieve his, uh, problem?

“Daddy, your beard tickles.” You giggle, because now he’s nuzzling his face against your neck. Playfully, you try to push him away but he seems adamant on getting as close to you as possible, hugging every part of your body close to him and shallowly thrusting against you.

“Shhh, baby, stop pushing me. Daddy missed you so much.” More kisses, more seemingly innocent fondling. You feel his fingers brush against your nipple. He grabs Floppy from your arms, a mischievous glint in his eye, “This little guy missed you too. And look, he wants to give you some special stuffie kisses.”

You gulp. Special stuffie kisses were something private and kind of naughty. Definitely not an appropriate activity between two exes. But Ari’s adamant, making Floppy “kiss” you down your chest and past your stomach before pressing the stuffie between your legs.

“M-Maybe you shouldn’t do this, Ari.” You whisper softly, and you’re so ashamed because you don’t want him to stop at all.

“I’m not doing anything, honey.” Ari blinks down at you, not even trying to hide the full-blown look of lust on his face. “Your stuffie’s just excited to see you. Now spread your legs further, Floppy wants to give you your special kisses down there.”

You bite your lip as Ari presses the stuffed animal against your mound, only the thin material of your panties shielding your private parts from the stuffie and how Ari moves it against you.

“Dumb baby, see how you’re getting Floppy’s fur all wet?” Ari can’t seem to hide the dark glee in his tone as he continues to rub the stuffed animal against you, and you’re mortified as you ashamedly rut straight back into it. “What’s got you so wet, honey?”

“Daddy,” you mewl softly, wanting to cry because you haven’t felt Ari’s intimate touch in so long. (Except last week — when he’d fingered your asshole to “check if it was still healthy.” You were lucky to have such a caring and smart ex-husband as him — he hadn’t even gotten angry when you’d accidentally squirted all over his thigh).

“That’s right, honey. I’m your daddy.” Ari mutters darkly, watching with hooded eyes as your wrap your thighs tightly around the stuffie and his hand, whimpering helplessly as he dry humps you with the stuffed animal.

“Tell me how it feels.”

“G-Good,” you answer immediately, bucking your hips up to create more of that delicious friction, “Feels good daddy. Know it’s wrong but don’t wanna stop!”

“I know, honey.” Ari croons, his other hand slipping up to fondle and squeeze your breast — and you’re too busy humping against the stuffie to even notice. “Dumb babies like you can’t help but get horny when you’re in daddy’s bed. It’s only natural, and daddy will always be here to help you out.”

He’s somehow moved your sopping panties aside, and Floppy’s fur catching against your clit feels so sinfully good.

“That’s right honey, rub your little baby cunt all over your stuffie. Fuck, you look so cute like this, sexy little baby pussy making such a big mess. But that’s okay, you’re just a little baby. My baby. All mine.”

“Yours!” You agree desperately, clinging to him and so far gone that you don’t even notice the possessive kisses he’s sponging against your neck, pulling you flush against his huge body, squeezing your breasts and tweaking your nipples lewdly.

Ari grips your neck, squeezing just enough so that it hurts. His lips hover close to your ear, his voice a menacing whisper, “Daddy’s never gonna let you go.”

The force of your orgasm has you clutching Ari hard, tears streaming down your face as you squirt all over poor Floppy, your juices soaking into the now sticky fur. And Ari’s still moving the stuffed animal against your spasming pussy, grinding Floppy against you as you ride out your high.

“Good girl.” Ari praises you, stroking your hair back, “always such a good girl for me, so pretty, innocent and well-behaved. Daddy loves you so much, honey. More than anyone else in the world.”

“Love you too, daddy.” You mumble, suddenly so exhausted as you cuddle up against his big, warm body. You try not to think about his girlfriend in the guest room, or what you and him have just done. And it’s easy to forget when Ari pushes his thumb past your lips once more, and you suck it noisily with satisfaction.

THE END

Aaah!!! This was just a concept of a potential fic and I kind of got carried away!!! Please do let me know what you think!!!

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #chris evans #chris evans x reader #steve rogers #ari levinson smut #Ari drabble #x reader

[privitivium]

YES YES YES!!! CHUBBY MIDDLE AGE DILF!!!! GOD I LOVE YOUR MIND YOU UNDERSTAND ME SO WELL!

IM DYING FOR SMUT OF HIM ALREADY 😫

I loveee the concept of edgy darling and Yan Dilf... He's so clueless on how to deal with and hang out with you and just let you take the lead all together....

so cute i love you you fucking get me. subbot yan dilf w amab domtop reader ! Hooray!

yan dilf with an angsty adult darling who he is lowkey clueless with is such a thought.

yan dilf who uses bonding techniques with you that he's honed since his kids' birthㅡall adults - only having one tween in in his huge house.. dilf who's all weirded out by his own odd behavior around you - knowing that he's usually suave and such a damn smooth talker around othersㅡwhy the hell cant he use his tactics on you? the hell did you do to him-?!?! he isnt complaining, no... but he would like it if he would stop "embarrassing himself" in front of his cool younger boyfriend who he's obsessed with. ugh! ( not even boyfriends, yet he calls you such a thing. nerd. )

him taking you out to these fancy places, fancy bars, hoping to catch your interest further; knowing that you at least have some sort of crush on him - ( he really hopes you dont see him as a father away from home ) being so close to him and all... yan dilf straight faced jerking off while imagining your fingertips trailing over his back while in the comfort of his room. wanting you to watch while he does it. would you like the sight? would you do it for him? he can't stop these disgusting thoughts no matter how hard he tries when he's around you, much to his chagrin.

ㅡhaving to sit awkwardly, hiding his lower half under the table when at a cafe or restaurant and speed to the bathroom while your face is turned to either fix the problem or splash cold water on his face. he cant help the way his tummy gets butterflies when his hand brushes against yours while walking ㅡ and he can't stand it. you make him act like a younger ... prettier version of himself. his highschool - college-self. making him feel all these fucking feelings again... it's so intoxicating. you. you, you, you,,,,,...

him being all lowkey awkward around you but it comes off as rigid and uncomfortable. just because he likes you so much and he's unsure of what to do with himself - and his imagination isnt much help. wondering..,,,, as he glances inbetween your legs,,, what it would feel like. wondering what kind of toy he has to use on himself to mock your dick, on his own time, caught up in his thoughts - riding a thick silicone cock messy with lube and his spit, and whining for you;; all alone. muscly, sturdy frame and stern face, simply intimidating with his demeanor - it was him being shy is all...

ㅡthen actually fucking him. plowing into him at a leisure pace at his place, in his bed - house empty. him clamping down so eagerly, so unused to the size of you, the dildo he had been fucking himself is so puny - the warmth you provide him making him all warm and fuzzy and - fuck, he's drooling. looking up at you with glazed eyes as you guide him to look at you in a hunched over form of missionary... his face burning with embarrassment and arousal yet keeping eye contact as you trail your hand down his jaw, hips methodically plapping against his as you gently take hold of the base of his thick, half limp cock that was more chub than length. stroking his half-hard cock gently, before softly taunting; sure are pretty... looking up at me with that pouty expression... you want something from me? do you want me to cum inside? be defiled, old man? you would look even prettier, can you imagine that?

ㅡpretty? yeah, right. but the mere tone of your voice and the way you compliment him makes him cum all the while. he's weak to you and he can't help it. he hates it. he fucking loves it. he does - he really does. he's so comfortable... too comfortable with you. nearly having a hand on your inner thigh everytime you sit in public together, so infuriatingly close to your prick.

ㅡhe knows what hes doing. and he's proud to say he has a little of that suaveness back just to tease you like this... but it doesnt end as well as he hoped. having to sob out of pleasure as you fuck him over his dinner table after what he thought was a cute dinner date with just the two of you in the house, turning into a fuckfest as you make him cum over and over until his dick could not take it any longer-! scoffing in amusement, shoving him to sit down, glass of water at his side as you so eagerly dip down in-between his legs - lapping at his dirty shrunken cock. uh huh.

chubby dad bod you feel up bro,,,. hands roaming over his abdomen,,, grazing and groping at his fat pecs - thick arms you can happily hold onto or nonchalanty squeeze,,

he lets you, wordlessly. letting you the lead with everything - letting you abuse his holes however you deem fit and letting you rake your fingers through his hair in a public display of affection and letting you touch him wherever, whenever you wanted ㅡ because you at least know what you're doing. unlike him - which is hard to admit... and, him not even having to stalk you because you were constantly around him, something that he truly cherishes. but ,,, he does plant cameras in your place when to you happen to have him over and disappear into the bathroom. he's just a little protective over you, wanting to make sure you're eating right, taking care of yourself right - and he's jerking off to the livefeed of you sitting on your couch.

#yan dilf....... #male reader #x male reader #top male reader #x top male reader #dom male reader #x dom male reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere m x m reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere male x reader