#a girl asked if the movie was worth watching

[attentiondealer]

been seeing some netflix wednesday posts around so i decided to share this little thing i wrote when i first saw the show and gave up on because maybe someone out there would appreciate it :)

- ♡ -

It’s not that Enid didn’t like kissing Ajax.

Really. It was perfectly pleasant. He was nice, sweet, and always attentive to her. Ajax was all she could ever have asked for. It was just that she’d always thought it would be… more. More exciting. More interesting. (More…). Less of a chore.

Enid had always been fascinated by romance, ever since she was little. She would watch movie after movie, read book after book about people falling in love. She would be on top of every gossip and rumor regarding people’s love lives (celebrities and acquaintances alike). Enid could hardly wait for her turn. And yet… Yet when these stories displayed kissing it was a big deal. The perfect first kiss that would sweep a girl off her feet and feel like fireworks and upbeat music and would make it all worth it.

She supposed they were only exaggerating after all.

Her kiss with Ajax was good. Beyond good, even. But it was only that. It didn’t feel life changing or like much really. Only like his lips were being pressed against hers. Which, they were. That’s the whole point of kissing, she keeps having to remind herself. Of course movies and books would oversell the idea, they want to keep their audience engaged, after all.

So no, she didn’t dislike kissing ajax. She would even say she enjoyed it. But she couldn’t shake the feeling something about it felt off. She just couldn’t quite put her finger on what exactly that was.

(Though her claws seemed to understand. Why they kept coming out, as if she didn’t want it, as if she was threatened, was beyond her.)

[loveheartslouis]

Just did introductions for a class. You had to say a fun thing you did over spring break. Everyone was talking about where they travelled to. And I said that I watched the new Mean Girls three times

[procrastinationaccount]

I'm going to lose my fucking mind

[yardsards]

i mentioned willow park being under-appreciated to my friend and he was like "i need to start a blog in which i post a shitty doodle of willow like, pumping iron or something every 5 minutes" and ik he was joking but Please i need this

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

autumn this or that <3

thank u for the tag @callsign-milano! i love these games so much :))

tea or hot chocolate // plaid or corduroy // cozy book or halloween movies (both. i can't possibly pick one over the other asdfsdkfl) // orange or black // pumpkin or apple pie // foggy mornings or twinkly nights // wool or velvet // libraries or coffee shops // picking fruit or carving pumpkins // cinnamon or peanut butter // spooky or cozy // halloween candles or fairy lights

tagging (no pressure!): @scilessweetheart @x-lulu @samwlscns @ereardon

[chelseeebe]

just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?” 

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 

-

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 

not if you were sleeping in his bed. 

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 

-

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 

tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 

you land on edward scissorhands. 

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 

-

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 

it’s torturous. 

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 

-

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 

if only she knew. 

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 

-

eddie can’t take it anymore. 

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 

“you want some help with that?” 

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

[luveline]

hotch's sister x spencer where hotch notices she's wearing spencer's clothes?

—You and Spencer get one another in trouble with your older brother. fem!reader, 1k

Your brother, though you’re adopted, has passed down onto you many things. Mostly his frown, but more embarrassingly his high-pitched giggle when something is startlingly funny. 

You laugh like a hyena at something Spencer’s said. He tries to grab you before you walk straight into his desk corner, but he’s too slow. You whack your hip and laugh again, this time in pain, bending over to grab at your wound in defeat. 

“Oh my god,” he says, trying not to laugh loudly, his efforts turning his own laugh into a giggle like yours as he bends down to see you, “are you okay?” He laughs so much he can barely ask. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you squeeze between a laugh, letting him pull you into a standing position. 

“What is it?” he asks, grabbing your hip, which worsens your laughter all over again. “What?” 

“You’re super handsy, Dr. Reid.” 

A sharp clearing of the throat echoes. You tense up, begging Spencer mentally not to give you away, but his hand practically flies back into his chest like you’ve burned him. 

You turn to the office. “Hi, Aaron.” 

Aaron Hotchner stands at the balcony overlooking the bullpen where you and Spencer stand. “Honey. Just give me two minutes and I’ll come down, okay?” 

You give a big smile. “Yes, sir.” 

His eyes move to Spencer. You watch Aaron decide to leave it alone and can’t help laughing for the hundredth time today as your brother turns around to head back into his office.

“He’s ridiculous.” 

“He’s gonna fire me,” Spencer says, though he doesn’t sound serious. 

“And then you can come work with me.” 

Spencer doesn’t want to work at your new job, that much is clear from his expression, but he has enough social wits to realise you’re flirting. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” he says.

Spencer leans back against his desk, hair curled just under his ears, his hand reaching for you though he doesn’t touch. You sit down in his seat, the backs of your thighs sticking to warm leather. You aren’t working today, hence your social visit, and Spencer had distracted you on the way to Aaron’s office (through no fault of his own, you’d just wanted to see him again) with a shy wave. Like you hadn’t spent yesterday night together walking through fountains. 

You didn’t mean to fall in. Spencer helped you up onto the round basin of the fountain and you’d held hands, walking in circles so he’d have an excuse to keep rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. Seconds turned to minutes, the conversation unhurried, and one wrong move had you slipping. You fell calf deep into cold water, but his laughter had been worth it. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asks. 

You cross one leg over the other, your jean leg riding up your shin. “I’m thinking about what Aaron’s gonna buy me for lunch.” 

“What do you want?”

“I have no idea. It’s so hot out I barely wanna eat.” 

“Well, too bad, you have to.” He picks up a file from his outgoings and fans it at you nicely. When he talks again, his voice is lowered. “I was thinking, if you’re not busy, they have a movie playing in a couple of days at the independent, I think it’s in Portuguese, and I really think you’d like it.” 

“Yeah?” you ask, lavishing in the cold kiss of his manufactured breeze and the idea of another date. 

“About a little girl that turns into a star. They have popcorn bigger than anywhere else I’ve seen, too. Enough for three people in one bucket.” 

You try not to act too shy. “Well, hopefully it’s just me and you.” 

Spencer smiles at you between waves of his fan. “Is your hip okay?” he asks. 

“Spencer.” 

“Are you ready?” Aaron asks. 

You spin in Spencer’s chair toward your brother, shocked he’s there. He’s been funny since you and Spencer met, never controlling or cruel, yet clearly having a tough time coming to grips with the connection you’ve formed with his smartest employee. 

When you told him Spencer had given you his number, his eye twitched ever so slightly, and he excused himself for a glass of water. You’re not sure what is about the situation that irks him: he loves you, he loves Spencer in his way, he’d do anything for both of you, except acknowledge your burgeoning relationship. 

You nod but don’t stand. Your hip aches weirdly and the sitting is nice. Plus, it’s a sisterly duty to wind up her brother, even if you love him more than anybody on planet earth. 

“Spencer was just telling me about your accident in Scottsdale.” 

“He was,” Hotch says. He looks at you, and his eyes follow down the line of your leg to your shoes, where they stay. 

You glance down. 

“I’m trying something new,” you say, sitting up quickly. Scottsdale doesn’t seem so funny. 

“I can see that.” 

You’re wearing Spencer’s socks, odd ones sticking up past his borrowed converse. “It’s summer,” you say, standing up. 

“Mm.” He gestures for you to stand in front of him, his hand on your shoulder kind but firm as he steers you away. “And the odd socks, that’s a conscious choice?” 

“Don’t be mean.” 

“I’m not.” 

You glance back at Spencer and grin at him as you’re shepherded away. Hopefully he’ll call you later, but for now he looks like he’d like to dig himself a shallow grave.

“We went for a walk last night and I ruined my shoes,” you explain, turning your gaze to Aaron and his reluctant smile. “They were still wet this morning.” 

“What about those loafers I got you for your birthday?” he asks. 

“Well, I didn’t have them with me.” 

Aaron nods. There’s a certain impassiveness to his expression that you’re familiar with, even if it signifies disappointment. That you’re not so used to. 

“I thought you liked Spencer?” you ask. 

“I do. But I love you, and he’s…” 

“He’s what?” 

“At risk.” 

“You’ll just have to keep him safe for me,” you say, smiling at him breezily. 

Aaron seems to agree silently. You’re almost to the elevators when he says, “Please, wear your own socks. I know you know how to do your laundry, I’m the one who taught you how to do it.” 

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

From the request here

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.

Word Count: 4.3 k

Warnings:

“Look at the jugs on her,” one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. “That’s a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; I’d be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, I’d never even be tempted to stray.”

This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesn’t bother you, you’re used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.

Simon isn’t one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. It’s almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isn’t normal. 

Something is bothering you.

The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe it’s exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps you’re just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.

It’s about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.

“Whatcha think; gotta admit she’s a fine thing, ain’t she Lieutenant?” he asks, nodding back at the screen. “Come on, even you gotta admit she’s perfect. Couldn’t hope to find anyone better.” 

The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to. 

Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows he’s finally found you. 

It looks like you’ve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you don’t hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you. 

“God, you’re so beautiful baby,” you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. “Just standin’ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.”  

Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.

You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isn’t in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections. 

“Oh, come off it,” you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. “I do not.” 

There is no hesitation in his reply. “I’m serious,” he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.

You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. “Yeah, sure,” you again dismiss him. “Whatever you say.”

Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Somethin’ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.”

You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. “I don’t know, it’s nothing,” you shrug, but he isn’t buying any of it. 

His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. “I think ya do know,” he says. “Will ya tell me?”

Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. “It’s just,” you say hesitantly, “I guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know I’m usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. She’s so perfect and… I…”

You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.

“I’m not. I know it’s fucking stupid and I shouldn’t care about all that, it doesn’t really matter, but sometimes it’s just hard to ignore. I’m not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like I’m the most irresistible person in the room.”

It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer. 

“Who the fuck said ya ain’t perfect?” he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. “Gimme that bastard’s name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckin’ neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.”

“No one said anything like that, it’s just the way I feel,” you answer honestly. “And you’re only saying that because you like me.” 

Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. “Really? Ya don’t think your body can drive someone wild? Then what’s this, hmm?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. “See whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think that’s lyin’?”

Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.

“Ya don’t think I catch the men lookin’ at ya from time to time?” he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. “Ya don’t think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckin’ likin’? Just cause they won’t say it out loud doesn’t make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.”

His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. He’s not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.   

“Don’t let what ya heard back there hurt ya,” he says softly. “Yeah, ya don’t look like that bird on the screen, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an absolute beauty. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and I ain’t just sayin’ it, baby. But ya don’t just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.”

Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.

“I’ve already showered,” you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.

Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. “Don’t care,” he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. “Can’t be havin’ those fuckin’ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.”

More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesn’t let up; he can’t, he’s captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out. 

“What if someone comes in?” The last of your questions spills out quick.

He chuckles at your needless worry. “Already locked the door sweetheart.”

Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure it’s right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.

The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them. 

You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.

Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking. 

You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you. 

He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.

It’s minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. “Stay with me luv,” he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, “I ain’t done just yet.”

Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. He’s on his knees, all 6’4” of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands. 

“You’re perfect just the way ya are, baby,” he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. “Just like this: real, curves for fuckin’ days, so much skin I get drunk tryin’ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that it’s all mine.”

More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. “Mine, all mine.”

His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon. 

Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.

“Ya think I get on my knees for any girl?” he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. “You’re the only one who can bring me to fuckin’ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. I’m at it’s goddamn mercy.” 

Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip. 

There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.

You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you don’t slip and fall.

Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isn’t until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum. 

“Second course,” he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.

Oh you have got him down bad tonight. 

He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.

“Those little boys just don’t know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckin’ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that don’t know the treasure he’s got. But I know what a fuckin’ feast ya are,” he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower. 

You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. “They don’t know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givin’ and givin’. But I don’t have that problem, sweetheart.”

Simon’s devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.

“Fuck,” he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind.  

His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.

“Don’t concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckin’ princess when you’re in his arms,” he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. “Cause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckin’ goddess of a woman.”

The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. “Say it again,” you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure. 

His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckin’ inch of ya. My princess.”

Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out. 

“Come for me again,” he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. “Come on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.”

Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. It’s close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.

“Let go for me,” he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all. 

Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.

Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.

It’s quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; you’ve been in here for too long, but Simon doesn’t seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again. 

“They’ll just have to fuckin’ wait,” he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. “They can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, I’m still busy and you’re not goin’ anywhere.”

[silverstonesainz]

maybe, just maybe

─── maybe it would be all worth it in the end

frat!lando norris x fem!reader warnings; nsfw!! minors dni!!! [includes p in v, oral-- m & f receiving, fingering- f receiving, unprotected]

 2:43 AM. The time on your lockscreen is blaring, it embarrasses you and almost makes you go to bed. 

Almost. 

→ Lando 2:43AM Are you on your way?

You bite down on your bottom lip, gaze switching from the text and your reflection in the mirror. You were ready to go– you’ve been ready to go. Yet, your bottom is still glued to the edge of your bed and your eyes on your reflection. You stare at yourself, weigh your options, make a mental pros and cons list about driving over to a fraternity house in the early hours of the morning. And when it comes to Lando, the cons list always seems to run longer than the pros. It’s a sign, you shouldn’t go.

Your phone pings with another text from Lando.

→ Lando 2:44AM Just lmk so I can go wait for you downstairs. 

You’re not this girl. You’re not the hook up type, the “go see a boy at three a.m.” type. You’re not this girl, not the one contemplating the idea of the boy who only seems to remember you when he’s lonely. No. You’re the type to be in bed at three a.m., the type of girl to stay in and watch a movie at three a.m, than to meet a boy. You’d much rather meet a boy at three p.m. 

Though admittedly, you hadn’t been that girl much either.

Your phone pings again. 

→ Lando 2:44AM Or if not I’ll just go to bed. But please come.

The message makes the guilt creep up on you, eat you up and reason with you. It erases all the cons on that little mental list you made earlier, and all because he said please. You sigh softly, giving in to him like you always do. You slip on your shoes, throw your bag over your shoulder, before walking out of your room. Your fingers tap away at a response quickly, hitting send before you get to your car.

← You 2:45AM Omw. Be there in 5

→ Lando 2:45AM Okay. Drive safe. 

You bite down on your lip when you read his notification, fighting back a smile. It’s stupid, it shouldn’t affect you this much. But it does. He cares, you mock yourself. You put your phone in the cupholder, letting your music shuffle as you pull out of your parking spot. The drive turns out to be eight minutes thanks to slow stoplights and the one pedestrian that decided to run across the road. But you make it to the house in one piece, parking on the unusually quiet street, between a gray Lexus and a white Camry. 

← You 2:53AM Here

→ Lando 2:53AM Door is unlocked

Pit pat pit, your shoes smack against the three steps up to the front door. True to his word, the door knob twists all the way and allows you into the sleepy house. You wish you could say you’d never seen the house like this, quiet and void of some sort of gathering. But that would be a lie because you have seen it this quiet. You’ve walked into the house many times before, quietly and secretly, always to meet the same boy. 

Lando doesn’t look up from his spot, leaning against the arm of the couch in the living room as he stares at whatever illuminates his phone screen. He’s clothed in a gray hoodie, hood pulled over his hair, and black sweatpants. You shut the door quietly behind you, whispering a soft hey as you take the short steps over to him. He finally looks up, smiling briefly before leaning down to peck your lips. 

It’s sickening how natural– how normal, it all feels. It shouldn’t. 

“How was your drive?” He asks, stuffing his phone in his pocket before slinging that same hand over you. His arm weighs warmly on your shoulders, pulling you into his side. 

“T’was okay…” you answer, looking up at him, “I think the pothole on University Drive got bigger.” 

He doesn’t return your gaze, acts as your eyes instead as he leads you through the house. But he smiles at your comment, wide enough that you can see the crinkles by his eyes. “Yeah… it probably did.” 

Lando’s arm slips from around you when you reach the foot of the stairs. He gets up about two steps before you follow behind him. Your footsteps are muffled into the carpeting, and there is a soft glow that comes from the second floor of the house. At the top of the steps, on the wall to the left sits the fraternity composite from the previous school year. Lando’s photo is on the fourth row, third from the right. He has a charming smile, and eyes that laugh. He looked so good. 

“When are you guys updating that?” Lando turns around when you ask, staring at the obscurely large photo framed on the wall. It takes a couple of seconds, you see the gears turning behind his green eyes. 

“Uh… maybe next week? Can’t remember when Pierre said it would be.” He rubs his eyes, fighting back a yawn before he waves you over to follow him. 

It’s a fairly quiet walk to his room. The house is fast asleep, though not necessarily dead silent. You can still hear shows playing and music changing behind the doors of each room. Each individual sleeping habit becomes clearer in the short walk to Lando’s room. 

His door is already opened, letting out cold air and the smell of alcohol and cologne. Calvin Klein – the same bottle of eau de toilette you bought him for his birthday last year. And Old Spice, though you have the deodorant stick left on the nightstand, cap off, to blame for that. You crinkle your nose at the scent, setting your bag down on his desk before slipping off your shoes. 

“Uh…” Lando rubs the top of his hoodie, pressing it down against his curly hair, “Sorry. I spilled vodka on my floor earlier. It still smells.” 

You hum, nodding as you walk across his room to close his deodorant. Lando reaches around you, swiping the tube as the cap clicks, walking it over to his dresser and placing it next to his rings and the cologne. He apologizes, cheeks hot and the tips of his ears red. 

His room is still as messy as you remember it. Laundry hanging precariously over the hamper and there are more empty hangers in his half opened closet than used ones. His letters are hanging over the back of his desk chair, and his bag is leaning against the leg of it. It’s zipped open showing off three crinkled papers and two folders. One red one, one blue one– both empty.  A bright orange t-shirt hangs out the side of it, just barely covering his black water bottle stuffed into the designated pocket. By his bed, his nightstand holds a lamp with no bulb and three vapes. His sheets are undone, obviously lived in and if you know Lando, you know he hasn’t made his bed in a week. 

“Why were you drinking in your room?” You finally ask, crawling onto the bed and over to your side of it. 

“Just because.” He shrugs, walking over to the door to push it shut. He pinches the lock between the side of his index finger and the pad of his thumb, twisting it locked. “Why, you want to take one?”

You scrunch your nose at the offer and it makes him laugh. “It’s three a.m.”

Lando smiles knowingly, hands coming up to grab onto the back of his hoodie. “We’ve done worse things,” He says, pulling the white material over his head, tossing it on the floor and leaving his torso bare. His finger flicks off the lights, but the room is still dimly lit by the warm streetlight outside his window. You watch him climb into bed, walking on his knees the short distance to you before he dips his head and presses a rough kiss against your lips. His hand holds your cheek, the ends of his fingers just dipping into your hair. 

You smile as you kiss him back, blowing an amused breath through your nose. “Almost like you miss me,” you tease between kisses. He laughs, breathy and smelling like minty toothpaste, as he pulls away. You can see the way he looks at you, eyes filled with a kind of fondness that makes your heart melt and believe in something just a little more. 

“I do miss you.” 

You give him a look, a playful non-believing one. Wide eyes, raised brows, and a puckered lip that asked him oh really? It makes him do another one of those breathless laughs as he adjusts himself in front of you, right arm taught to hold up his body while his left palm curves over your right knee, pushing it further from your left. 

“Let me show you how much I do.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes watching as his fingers grip onto the waistband of your sweats. He tugs them down your legs, over your knees, and off your ankles in one swift, eager movement. You watch as he lays on his stomach, left arm fitting snugly under your thigh. He licks his bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth, eyes stuck on the baby pink underwear that he’s left you in– particularly the little bow that sits on the waistband, just below your belly button. There’s a crooked smile on his lips as his right hand comes up, index finger and thumb picking at the little thing, using it to pull the waistband of your underwear back before letting it snap against your skin. 

“Cute.” 

“Shut up.”

A low chuckle vibrates in his throat. He leaves the bow be, leaves the teasing words up in the air. But his fingers, his fingers are just ghosting over you, over the pink fabric. His fingers do what he won’t say with words. His long, slender, middle finger traces lines over your clothed slit. Up and down, up and down. You can’t breathe, anticipating the relief he’d surely give you if you’re only patient enough. 

The streetlight outside is orange and obnoxiously bright. You complained about it every time, begging him to get a curtain or buy new blinds (Oscar destroyed his old ones several parties ago, and he had yet to replace them). It’s been months and a handful of sleepovers and his only compromise was switching places in bed with you. But tonight, tonight you love that street light. You love the warmth that bounces off his skin, the way it allows you to see the freckles that litter his shoulders. But perhaps your favorite part of it all, the part that gets you the most, is the light cast over half his face. The shadows contouring him perfectly, and the light kissing the most prominent part of him. And that light allows you to see his eyes flick up towards you, a burning gaze as you feel his thumb pull your panties to the side. 

He looks down at your cunt with blown pupils and a hungry stare. “Missed your pussy.” 

A second. And another. And then his tongue is lapping you up and tickling your clit. You squirm beneath him, gasping for air as he wraps his lips around your nerves. It sends tingles through your skin, shoots pleasure into every nerve ending and pulls your back off the bed. You whine, begging for more more more. He rumbles against you, humming contentedly as he flicks his tongue against your core. Lando’s right hand grips the top of your thigh, pads of his fingers pressing against your flesh and leaving imprints of him. He eats your pussy like a man starved– tongue desperate to taste every inch of you. 

Lando, Lando, Lando, you chant softly. You pick up your head, abdomen tense as you begin to feel your orgasm build in the pit of your stomach. You’re standing at the edge, on the tips of your toes, waiting… waiting for him to push you over the edge. You moan quietly, fingers frantically searching for him and finding refuge in his curls. You feel every strand, every curve and twist of his hair against your fingers as you grip onto them to pull him closer to your cunt. You beg a whiney please… I’m so close. You breathe, gasping for air when you feel his middle and ring finger curl into you. His mouth continues to trace shapes and figures against your clit as his fingers pump at an unforgiving pace. It’s there, you’re right there. 

You lose the sensation of his lips, replaced instead by his warm breath. And your eyes are screwed shut otherwise you’d see the way he looks up at you through his lashes and that knowing smirk on his lips. “You gonna come for me baby?” he taunts, “make a mess all over my fingers? All over my face?”

You whimper, “All over your pretty face.” you confirm, looking between your legs. 

Lando smirks, “Yeah… yeah baby. Come for me,” he encourages, quickening the pace of his fingers and curling them. You could scream, you want to. But the house is so quiet, so fucking quiet. “C’mon baby, give it to me.” 

Your moan is broken by the gasps, broken by pleasure shooting through your skin. Your legs shake, clench around Lando’s head who doesn’t let up, who returns his mouth onto your cunt, tongue flicking and fingers squelching into you. You buck your hips against his face as you chase your orgasm, and he chuckles into you. You can feel his smile against you and that’s just enough to bring you over the edge. You picture it, the knowing smirk that he’s got you right he wants you. Lando savors every second of your pussy pulsating around him, your arousal coating his chin. It’s only when you stifle a giggle, when palms are against his forehead and pushing him away from your sensitive cunt does he finally stop. You feel empty when he pulls his fingers out of you, you feel almost… incomplete. 

Lando sucks on his fingers, humming around them before releasing them with a pop. You push yourself up, hand reaching out to pull the boy over you and smashing your lips against his. You can taste yourself mixed with his spit, your sweet arousal on his tongue doesn’t bother you nearly as much as it used to. You press your palm against Lando’s chest, push him down onto his side of the bed and find your place between his thighs. You can see his hard dick pressing against the fabric of his sweatpants, and you waste no time tugging the material down his legs with his underwear, with just as much desperation he had with you. 

“Almost like you miss me,” Lando teases. 

You bite back a smile, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you pull his bottoms over his ankles, discarding them to the floor. “Almost.” 

You level your head with his cock, quick to press your tongue flat against his shaft to lick a long stripe up his length. Lando hisses and its music to your ears. You do it again before wrapping your hand around him, sucking in your cheeks before releasing a ball of spit against the head. You use your palm to spread the wetness up and down his length, eyes flickering up for a bit of approval. Lando nods, breath stuck in his chest while he reaches over to you. His fingers comb through your hair, pushing your locks over your shoulder before resting at the base of your neck. He doesn’t need to say a thing, just has to push your head down gently, to encourage you where he wants you. 

You start at the head, tongue swirling before licking along the top of it. The skin is taught, sensitive, housing nerves you set ablaze with just a flick of your tongue. Slowly, you allow more of him into your mouth until he just begins to fit snugly at the top of your throat. Lando groans, sings praises and coos over how well you take him. You force yourself to take more of him, allow his thick cock to fill your throat. You gag around him before finding the strength to swallow. The boy moans at the way your throat constricts around him, whines when you do it again. His fingers grip your hair tightly to alleviate the pressure in his chest. You come up for air, releasing his dick with a pop, mouth dripping with spit as you gasp for air. 

“Wanna fuck that sweet mouth of yours,” Lando breathes. “Would you let me do that?” 

You look up at him through your lashes, lowering your head to press a kiss against the head of his dick. You nod against him, mouth falling open once again and moving just low enough that if he’d buck his hips, he’d hit the back of your throat. There’s a moment of stillness, a moment where you begin to feel every little thing in the room. The cool air, the plush duvet, and your mouth watering over Lando. Anticipation drives you mad, makes you giddy and wet between your legs. Lando pulls all your hair behind your head, frizzy locks spilling over his fist. The ends tickle your back, the base of your neck. The side of his hand presses into the back of your head, guiding you down his length, pushing further and further into your mouth. Your nose flares as you try to control your breathing, throat relaxed and jaw slack. And just as his head begins to squeeze into the top of your throat, he pulls your head back up. He starts slow, eases your mouth up and down his cock, pushing further with every dip, until he hears the profane sounds of air and spit stopping him from continuing. 

“God,” Lando groans, “Your fucking mouth…”

The compliment, whatever it was meant to be, is lost in the air as Lando throws his head back with another rough groan. You try to bob your head, swallow as much of him as you can. But your hair is bunched in his fist, tightly, rendering you still with your lips wrapped around him. You suck, swirl your tongue, do as much as your limited movement will allow, beckoning another sinful sound to fall from his lips. His fist only winds tighter, making the hairs on the bottom of your head ache.

He hums, the hand not in your hair tapping your jaw. Your lips are frozen, eyes flicking up to look up at him. Lando presses his lips into a thin line, suppressing an amused look, “Sorry. Open. Just open your mouth baby.” 

You hum, complying with his request and letting your jaw fall slack. You press your tongue flat in your mouth and grant him the room he needs as he begins to thrust himself into your mouth. The head of his cock hits the back of your throat that makes your mouth water, the not-so-gentle assault making your arousal begin to spread to the inside of your thighs, a mess of desperation. Lando’s legs are bent just enough on either side of you so he could push his hips up. He’s panting, moaning, a mess as he holds your hair tightly and pushes himself as far as your tight throat would take him. Your eyes water as you begin to choke around him, gagging and gurgling your spit– making a fucking mess all over him. You miss the words that tumble past his lips, miss the compliments and praises of how well your taking him as he fucks your mouth. All you could focus on is breathing through your nose, relaxing your throat as you accommodate his size. Lando pulls out of your mouth completely a moment later, fingers releasing your hair and finding your jaw instead. His four fingers hold onto your face, forcing you to look up at him while his thumb swipes the saliva that covers your bottom lip and chin. You blush but he smiles, guiding you over him so he can kiss you again. 

Lando’s hands trace your curves, finding their way to your hips. His grip is warm, the pads of his fingers pressing into the flesh of your love handles as he guides you over him. The kiss grows eager, heated by the proximity and your slick cunt just barely brushing his stiff cock. The playfulness dissipates and is replaced by desperation. Your knees are on either side of his hips, and your lips part from his as you reach for his dick behind you, pulling it up as you rub the head against your pussy. Lando’s lips latch onto your nipple, sucking the bud between his teeth. You hiss at the sensation, throwing your head back as you press his cock against your entrance. Slowly, deliberately, you lower yourself onto him. A groan bubbles from Lando’s throat and it vibrates against your skin. 

You whine when he bottoms out in you, whine at the fullness you feel when he’s pushed all the way inside you. “Fuck Lando…” You breathe, gasping for air. 

He nudges his nose against your jaw, encouraging you to tilt your head away from him to kiss you where you like to be kissed. His lips are soft, wet, gentle as he begins to kiss your neck. They lick and suck that makes the hairs rise on your skin. Slowly, you push yourself up on your knees before sinking yourself back down. The grip on your hips grows tighter, encouraging you to move quicker, to bounce on his cock faster. But you choose to savor the fullness, to savor the minutes that pass you both by. You didn’t mind taking your time chasing the high, you knew you’d get there eventually. 

You try to build up to the moment, swiveling your hips around him as you move yourself up and down. You feel every bit of him inside of you, moaning at how he stretches you when he’s all the way in you. You’re Lando’s hands squeeze your hips, hold you up so that only half of him is exposed. And then he thrusts up, sheathing himself in you completely. You nearly topple over at the force, hands quick to press against his chest to find your balance. The new angle has moans bubbling from your throat with ease. You’re desperate for more, pushing back against him as he continues to thrust upwards. 

Lando is impatient. He’s desperate, horny, and just vexed enough to flip you both over so that your back is against his mattress and he’s sitting over you. He pulls your right leg over his shoulder while he pushes your left thigh down into your chest. He mumbles under his breath, none of which you can make sense of, especially when he bucks his hips against yours, hard. You arch your back, head digging into his flimsy pillow and engulfing you in the scent of his shampoo left in the threads. Your senses are on fire, nerves overwhelmed with pleasure. Moans escape you, whiny and desperate with every stroke of his cock. 

“You like that?” Lando breathes, “Like when I fuck you like this?”

You nod, whining a pathetic yes. You do, god of course you do. There is no other reason, nothing more enticing than a three a.m. text message, it's truly the biggest reason you dare make the drive to a stupid frat house in the first place. You like– no love how Lando fucks you. You love the way he makes you feel, how he sets every nerve on fire and blurs all your senses so that all you feel is him. Him, him, him. 

You look up at him, see the cocky smirk curved into his lips as he continues to fuck you into the bed. There’s a sheen of sweat that coats his skin, the warm light of the streetlamp glistening against his toned chest. You reach up, fingers inching up from his chest to his neck, pulling him back to you into a heated kiss. Always a mess of teeth and tongue, mixed with desperation and the need to be as close to the other as possible. Lando filling you up, fitting himself in your warmth, doesn’t feel close enough. You moan into his mouth at the new sensation, the feeling of him– every ridge and vein, all of him– and the way he begins to fuck into you. You’re a mess, unable to keep up with the kiss, to keep up with the boy fucking you. 

“Lando,” You breathe against his lips

Lando pulls away, forehead resting on yours as his right hand comes up to cup your jaw. His thumb presses against your lips, pushing past them and resting on your tongue. Almost instantly, your lips wrap around his finger and sucking. His eyes go dark, the bright green gone from the lust that takes over his gaze. He savors the feeling of your tongue, soft and wet against the pad of his thumb. Flashes of the moments not too long ago make his cock twitch and he swears he could finish in that moment. But he pulls his thumb from your mouth, hand finding its place above your crotch to place the slick digit against your clit. You gasp, head thrown back into the pillow and the moans begin to choke you. You’re struggling to breathe as pleasure creeps up your bones, prickles at your skin one nerve at a time. 

“Oh god,” You breathe, “I’m gonna come.” 

You regret saying it because the moment you do, Lando stops. His hard cock, still inside of you, and your orgasm withering away. You whine in protest, turning your head into the pillow to hide the displeasure woven into your face. You could scream at the way he laughs above you, the soft coos of your name and the light hearted teasing that you didn’t get to finish. But before you could retaliate, to let your irritation get the best of you, Lando flips you over onto your stomach. His hands, planted firmly on your hips, pull them up. You feel his hands spread your ass, squeezing and then his lips against the skin. 

“Don’t worry baby,” Lando mumbles against the flesh of your bottom, “I got you.” 

A beat and then his tongue is on your pussy again. He licks a stripe, and another, and once more before you can no longer feel his warm breath. There’s a mumble of compliments, none of which you manage to make out between the rustling of the sheets and your left ear buried in the pillow in an effort to take a peek at him.  You’re panting, waiting, anticipating him. And when he pushes in deep inside of you, you feel whole again. Your fingers grip onto the sheets, eyes screwed tightly shut, as Landobegins to fuck you over and over, skin slapping and the sloppy sounds of your arousal coating his dick. Your lungs shake on inhale while your exhale is throaty and desperate. Your body shakes with the bed, with every thrust, banging the bed frame against the wall.

Lando’s fingers weave their way into your hair, gripping at the roots to pull back, upright, and as close to his chest as far as  your body allows. His breath is hot against your cheek. 

“You feel so fucking good.” 

“God Lando.” 

His free hand comes up, sliding along the curves of your torso and cupping your breast before finally finding their place around your neck. And when his hand finally resides above your collar bones, he releases your hair. You reach behind you, fingers combing through his curls as you search for a bit of stability in the new position. Lando bottoms out in you with every thrust, his movements rough yet persistent. You feel the sweat of his chest against your back and your arousal sliding down the inside of your thighs. And then it’s there– your orgasm– a growing bubble in the pit of your stomach. You don’t dare say a word this time, just moan a little louder and throw your head back against his shoulder. 

Lando’s grip tightens around your neck. Your eyes roll back into your skull. He whispers dirty words in your ear, words you wouldn’t dare repeat– words only uttered in the quiet of the early morning. He says just enoughs, does just enough, to push you over the edge for the second time tonight. Your pussy pulsates, clenches and unclenches around Lando as your orgasm washes over you. You’re panting, whining, fingernails clawing at his arm that’s lain across your chest. Lando’s lips are curved into a smile as he presses a kiss under your ear, can you take one more?, he asks. 

You’re a mess, but nod anyways. That’s my girl, Lando mumbles as he pulls out from you. It’s sick how you find pleasure in the way he pulls out, enjoying the slow and languid movement he makes before he guides you down on your back. The duvet is soft, warm, plush, against your back. You were spent, eyes drooping, and if it weren’t for his presence above you, you would surely drift to sleep in a matter of seconds. Lando’s lips attach to your neck softly, leaving a trail of wet kisses along the length of it. It’s almost sweet, the way he takes his time with you. A ghost of a smile curves onto your lips as you turn, pressing yours against him. The kiss is slow, sensual– like time has stopped for the both of you and allowed a couple moments without worry. You almost let yourself fall into that fantasy– that truly in the moment it was only you and him. Lando’s hand comes up to cup your face as he presses deeper, tongue tracing along your bottom lip. You allow him way, and your tongues push and slide against each other. You moan softly, needy, as you slide your legs open so he can come closer. Lando accepts the invitation, shifting on the bed so that his chest is pressing against yours. Your hands scramble around him, one through his curly hair and the other pressing against the soft skin of his back to bring him even closer to you. 

Want you, he breathes. Need you, you whine. 

Lando pulls his lips from you, craning his neck as he grabs onto his hard shaft, sliding it along your wet slit slowly. You hold your breath in anticipation, a shudder running up your spine at the teasing movement. Up… then down. And then he’s pushing into you so agonizingly slowly. You whine softly, hands moving up to his face to bring his lips back to yours, desperate to relieve yourself of this feeling churning in the pit of your gut. Lando kisses you feverishly as he bucks his hips against you, chasing a high he had yet to find for himself. You hold onto him, failing to keep up with him as he fucks you harder and harder. His pace is slow but the thrusts are deep, calculated, once again pushing you towards a cliff you’ve jumped twice tonight already. You’re a whiney mess, begging for more after every profane word that falls from his lips. Like when I fuck you like this? You feel so good baby. You’re made for me. I’ll never get enough of you. You’re fucking mine. 

You were. No– you are. You can’t remember life before Lando, before the yearning and the need to be as close to him as you could be. Even under the guise of uncaring, behind the fake “nothing he does affects me” facade you put up, there is always a little twinge– a fray in nicely kept threads. Deep in your heart, guarded by self-preservation and ego, you know that if Lando said jump you’d always ask how high? 

His thrusts become sloppy, desperate, as he begins to chase his own high. I’m gonna come, he mumbles against your lips. A soft moan rumbles from the back of his throat, vibrates against your lips as you swallow the sounds of pleasure. Your fingers intertwine with the curls on his head, gripping tightly as you feel your own release begin to wash over you. Your orgasm grips every nerve, lights your skin on fire and suffocates you in the best way. You’re forced to rip your lips from him so you can gasp for air. Your gasp turns into quiet cries as your pussy pulsates around him. Lando is not far behind, his hips quickly pulling out of you and spurting hot cum on your lower abdomen. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, turning your head so he can kiss you once more. 

“You okay?” He finally asks, warm breath fanning over your skin as he carefully pushes the hairs from your face. You’re spent, more than okay, and so with droopy eyes and a lazy smile, you nod. Mhm. 

Lando rolls off of you, sitting up and walking towards the opposite side of the room. He bends over to swipe a towel off the floor before sauntering back to bed and swiping the material along your belly. He cleans the mess, half amused, before bending down to give you another sweet peck. You hum contentedly, hands outstretched for him to pull you up. Lando’s hand grabs yours, pulling you up and off the bed with ease. You navigate through the dimly lit, messy bedroom in search of your clothes. You manage to find your panties and hoodie before rolling over to your side of the bed and under the covers. The duvet smells lived in, with a hint of Lando and all his vices. 

With boxers over his hips, Lando climbs into bed next to you. His arms are quick to wrap around you, head finding refuge in the crook of your neck. It’s quiet now, the world fast asleep and patiently waiting to join. But as spent as you are, as much as your body begs for rest, your mind reels. It’s easy to forget about sleep when anxiety begins to weave its way into every thought.

You feel stupid again. A bit of self loathing and a sprinkle of heartache courses through your veins. You told yourself that you wouldn’t give in, that if Lando wanted to see you again, that he’d have to make an effort to do so. You were supposed to make him make the late night drive, that he’d have to walk up to your dorm all alone and sneak out again the next morning. You promised yourself to make him work a little harder and yet, all he had to do was say please and you jumped on the opportunity to see him. Like “please” excuses the fact he’d only see you when everyone was fast asleep, that he’d only hold you and kiss you and call you his when no one was looking. 

You settle comfortably, regrettably, in Lando’s arms as he wraps them around you. His lips are warm against the top of your forehead, then against your cheeks, and finally against your lips. The gesture is reassuring, tying you to a bit of security– the kind you’ll look back on and wonder if it was real. The mental list of cons you had contemplated earlier in the night had made it to the forefront of all your thoughts. It’s a long list, extensive and albeit a little overdramatic. But that the top, enumerated number one, reads the same line that pierces your chest time and time again.

He isn’t yours.

It’s a sick thought, a taunting realization that you have in the dull moments of your day. So as you lay wrapped in him, you are forced to reckon with the fact that he isn't yours. How you feel about him, differs vastly with how he feels about you. The scales are tipped in his favor of his ego and pride. 

You shuffle out of his hold, and he doesn’t seem phased as you slide out of bed. You’re slipping on your leggings, stepping into your runners and reaching for your bag. He doesn’t so much as flinch until he hears the aged brass door knob squeak at your turn.

“You’re not staying?” You look up, stare right at his back as he begins to shuffle deeper into the covers. His shoulders and all the little freckles on it are left exposed under the warm light bleeding into the room. 

“No.” 

The air in the room is thick, but you wonder if you’re making up the discomfort in your head. Lando has yet to turn, yet to respond, yet to react to the palpable tension in the room. But his shoulders only rise with his breathing, slow and steady.

“Why not?” 

Because I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep anyways. Because it isn’t a good idea. Because if I stay, I think I’ll fall in love with you. 

You shrug, “Just wanna be in my bed. And plus I have an early day tomorrow, so I’d rather be home.” 

“That’s not a very good reason.” Lando turns over, eyes half open and tongue poking out to wet his lips. “Just stay, I’ll make sure you wake up in the morning.” 

You bite down on your bottom lip, mind reeling for another excuse, another out, just about any reason to give him so you could go home and drown in your misery. But before you do, Lando sits up. He reaches for his phone and swipes along the screen. He hums softly, tapping three times before flipping his screen around for you to see. Three alarms set– 6:05, 6:15, 6:25. There, he mumbles, now come to bed. 

You’d be lying to yourself if you said that the gesture didn’t make your heart do flips. The gesture– though maybe nothing to him– is a little more than something for you. It shows he cares. It shows that he wants you there. The gesture is enough to dissolve the walls of doubt you’d built for yourself. All it took was three alarms and the boy pulling back the covers for you to return to your place in bed. You bite down on your lip, bag sliding off your shoulder and dropping to the floor with a soft thud. You were never good at standing your ground anyways. You kick off your shoes, set them by the door, before crawling into the empty space by Lando. He’s quick to pull the covers over your bodies before his arms are around you and pulling you against him. 

“Missed this,” Lando mumbles softly into your hair, “missed you.” 

You hum softly, toying with the edge of the duvet. “Oh yeah?”

There’s a beat of silence much louder than your breathing. You’re too focused on the loose threads on the duvet, the feeling of the clumps of stuffing caused by a cheap dryer, much too focused on the less important things to see the way Lando raises his brow. 

“Yeah,” He replies, matter of factly. “Don’t believe me?” 

You shrug, poking your chin up as you stare at him. His eyes scan you, looking for a quiver of a muscle, something to tell him that you’re only poking fun at him. Instead, he sees the bit of heaviness in your eyes. 

You don’t believe him. 

There are questions that hang in the air, conversations that are much too honest for four in the morning. Neither of you pull the trigger on it, instead lay quietly by each other, soaking in the distrust and disbelief. But what was new? It has always been this way, this was you and Lando’s normal. Living a never ending cycle of doubt and mistrust, all the pushing and pulling, of fights left unresolved and conversations never had. Being with Lando meant living with uncertainty. Being in love with Lando meant wishing away that cons list and pretending that it doesn’t exist. Because at least– the very least– you’re here. 

Lando falls asleep moments later, snoring softly and holding you firm against him. He smells like soap, fresh linen, and just a hint of you. His skin is soft, littered with freckles and moles and the memory of the night behind you. You stare for a bit, count the lashes that lay on his cheek, pass the time as you debate in your mind if sleeping here was worth the way you would feel when he inevitably shows you out the next day. But then he squeezes you tighter. You feel his nose nuzzling into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. His body relaxes against you, and you suddenly feel whole. You feel like you belong. Maybe it was worth sticking it out. Maybe things would be different in the morning.

You fall asleep, regrettably comfortable and your heart relying on the maybes.

d rambles. . . i have wrestled with this fic for months because i honestly was trying to do way too much with it so i figured i'd post this and then post pt2. so this fic is p with very little plot- the plot to be found in the next part (hopefully). anyways i hope you all enjoy this and as always feedback is greatly appreciated. smooches!

[afterglowsainz]

so it goes… | carlos sainz

summary: carlos has the biggest crush on the famous up and coming actress but she doesn’t know who he is

fc: anya taylor-joy

warnings: this is my first smau so plsss tell me what you think <3 i made it a bit long cause i’m use to write detailed stories but is worth it i swear!! also english is not my first language so there might be mistakes

liked by carlossainz55, bffusername and others

ynusername life lately 🧚🏼‍♀️

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user1 she’s so pretty ughhh

user2 y/n please give me just once chance i’m beggin

user3 simping respectfully

carlossainz55 que linda! (so pretty!)

user4 hello??

user5 ariana what are you doing here 😭

bffusername literally my wife 😮‍💨

ynusername me and you forever 🤭

user6 mother

liked by bffusername, charlesleclerc and others

carlossainz55 great weekend all in all 🏆 podium and good points for the team, ready for the next! 🔜

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user4 let’s gooo smooth operator‼️

user7 forza ferrari 🐎

charlesleclerc great job! double podium next race 👊🏼

user8 brilliant drive carlos!!

user9 VAMOOOOS (let’s go)

user5 okay we see y/n’s best friend in the likes 👀

user10 i think she’s a ferrari fan!

landonorris congrats on the podium or whatever 🙄

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ynusername emma is now on streaming platforms !!! go watch it 🫶🏽

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user1 and they call her the it girl !!!

user2 favorite movie of the year 💞

user3 y/n y/l/n future oscar winner‼️

bffusername GO WATCH MY WIFE’S MOVIE OR ELSE

ynusername you heard her!

carlossainz55 loved the movie!

user4 okay but are we believing he actually saw a romantic period piece or?? 🤨

user5 idk why i kinda believe it solely on the fact that he’s obsessed with y/n 😭

user6 i don’t see the appeal, she��s not all that :/

user4 now i know you did NOT just said that about THE Y/N Y/L/N

user7 y/n drop another movie i’ve already seen this one a thousand times :( (liked by carlossainz55)

likes by charlesleclerc, carlossainz55 and others

ynusername italian nights 🧿

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bffusername my girlfriend the prettiest of prettiest 🥰

user1 picture at a church and partying with måneskin? ohhh she’s cool cool

user2 carlos i understand you completely

carlossainz55 beautiful!

ynusername thank you! 💕

user3 omg did she actually??

user4 somebody make sure carlos is still alive and breathing pls

user5 finally! my boy has been in the trenches for monthsss

landonorris 👀

user6 now lando what do you know??

(ynusername has started following carlossainz55)

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carlossainz55 summer break 🏁

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user1 well hello there

user2 weird way to ask me to marry you but ofc🤭

user3 not carlos immediately posting a thirst trap after yn followed him 😭

user4 thirst trap seems a bit much…

user3 him just casually posting the most earth shattering hottest pictures out of nowhere??

user4 okay you may have a point

user5 post a warning or something next time jesus

user6 I AM ON MY KNEES PLEASE

user7 dinner would be served, house would be cleaned, kids on bed, anything he wants

ynusername 🥰 (liked by carlossainz55)

carlossainz55 🫶🏽

user8 girl me too

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yourusername beautiful beautiful madrid 🤍

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user1 omg you’re in my city!!!

user2 someone send this to carlos quick!

user3 you’re so beautiful 😻

user4 carlossainz55 my guy this is your chance

user5 you’re STUNNING 🤩

carlossainz55 i need to show you all the nice places🫶🏽 (liked by yourusername)

yourusername omg please!! i need a local tour guide

carlossainz55 😊

user6 omg is this the beginning of something???

user7 i’m shipping them already 🤭

user8 someone check on carlos please‼️

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Old Friends

Bruce Wayne is no stranger to losing people. He has lost them to death or to madness within this city he is desperately trying to save. With each person, the void within him grows darker and darkeruntil he feels like he is still trapped back in that alley next to cold bodies and a broken heart.

That is why he tries his best to not overthink about them as they were in their final moments. He tries to remember his loved ones for who they were in the better days before tragedy struck.

Once in a while, even those memories he desperately tries to suppress because he can't handle the pain they bring. Bruce is aware it's not healthy.

He's seen plenty of men who are allowed their passions to become violent obsessions- he thinks of Harvey often- but being Batman was the one time he was actually making a difference instead of just allowing more and more tragedies to continue.

As Batman, he is at least putting up a fight.

Maybe that's why, on the night of his two old friends' deaths, Bruce sees them standing under a light post in Old Gotham as he is swinging by dressed as Batman. The very same one he would meet them at back as a teenager, scrambling to sneak out after Alfred would do his rounds.

He remembers his heart beating a mile a minute as he hurried out of his manor's caves, using the forgotten paths to meet the type of youth Alfred warned him against.

They would greet him with crooked smiles, sharp teasing voices, but soft, kind eyes. Despite how the older generations would wrinkle their noises at their appearance, they weren't bad people. Sometimes Bruce thought of them whenever people asked if Crime Alley was ever worth the effort to reform.

He knew they deserved someone to at least try.

Bruce, had meet them when he was ten and angry. They had both come from bad homes- at the time he hadn't realized just how bad- but they had been willing to help the privlage rich boy find his way home. They invited to linger when he neeed quite nights, listen to his woes and encourage his desire to be more.

The three were the same age, but sometimes Bruce would think he was the youngest one there. He grew up fast after his parent's murders, but not as fast as they had done.

They would rather spend their nights sleeping around the center of a small plaza in front of an old movie theater than going to either of their family houses, told him.

They were his best friends, a comfort that someone his age understood pain even if it wasn't the same one he had.

Maybe that is why he hadn't told them to stay when they told him that one had finally saved enough money for a motorbike, which the two were planning to use to run away. Bruce thought that they needed to get away until they were all adults and the system would no longer hold the power of them.

He had only given them a big hug, and well wishes.

Bruce never saw them again.

The light post hadn't been fixed in all those years, so the flickering light fell on the two figures casually leaning against it just as it did the very last night. They stood side by side, chatting lowly, lips cured around cigarettes.

Even the smoke floating around them is the same, and for a second, Bruce wonders if he is looking at a photograph. The same crooked smiles, taunting body language as if daring anyone to try to make them sad, and the same kind but so lonely eyes.

Even the blasted motocycle that stole them from him is propped up next to the pair just as it did the last night he saw them.

Bruce swings to a stop on the rooftop overlooking the two he had outlived. He remembers when he found out. Alfred had just turned on the TV to watch the daily news, and their pictures were flashing across the screen, the words Deadly motorcycle accident under their image.

Bruce had thrown up the meal Alfred had made him. No one else came to their funeral, fitting as it had been the girl's father that orginized their deaths.

All because his daughter would not follow her mother's footsteps and thus he would be out of a worker. Not that anyone belived him, even though Bruce had orginized thier funerals and been one of the four attendees.

Even though she had told them both with a shaking voice that her father wanted her to start wearing the clothes she was in to attract customers.

It was one of the first few cold cases he solved as Batman. He owed them that much.

"B?" Nightwing calls, noticing that his father had stopped following. He comes to stand next to him looking down to where Batman is staring. He sees nothing. "What is it?"

"Just some old friends," He mutters, turning away from Johnny and Kitty. He swears he can almost hear Johnny calling his name but Bruce can't bring himself to look back. If he does he'll fall into the void instead of staring. He aims his grabbling hook and swinings away.

Down below, the pair of ghosts watch the heroes go with wishful smiles.

"He's grown."

"He has." Johnny takes a long puff of his cigarette "I think the idiot can see us. He's had too many close calls if he can spot ghosts without the crazy levels of ectoplasm Amity Park has."

"He better not die. His kids need him." Kitty scoffs, but she leans on Johnny all the same, staring at the city they had tried so desperately to escape in life. They had passed by the street corner her father had controlled the working girls in, and she had burst into tears to see that Bruce had turned it into a women's shelter named after her. "This city needs him."

Johnny, for all his faults, and his flirtatious nature had allways been her rock. That's why when she had been sixteen and scared, she had gone to him to try to run away with.

He had gone with her to their deaths. Sometimes, she wonders if her boys ever blamed her for the end of their stories. She certainly did.

Johnny glances to the sky, spitting a swear. "Come babe, the glowing brat is back. We should try to split before he shoves us back to the Zone."

[cute-sucker]

EX HUSBAND RAFE HEADCANONS !!

note: here is an extension of some of this: ex-husband rafe when you start dating again..

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

ex-husband!rafe will continuously come to your house telling you it's only to check up on your baby girl

ex-husband!rafe will catch himself calling you sweetheart and honey, and them stop himself before it gets out of hand, iching his head and tilting his head in that endearing way

ex-husband!rafe is in tune with your cycle, and you swear the man knows the exact day to send you chocolate and sweet things to handle your sweet tooth

ex-husband!rafe will sleep on the couch with a sheepish smile, but then will soon later join you in your bed, cradling you in the way that made your breath catch whispering "what's the master bed for then, huh?"

ex-husband!rafe will know everything about your dating life/borderline which may seen creepy but somehow you know it's for your health and somehow you understand it all

ex-husband!rafe will let the goddamn pretentious expensive preschool know that his daughter is worth the world and the last thing they want to do is piss the cameron's off

ex-husband!rafe would find himself desperately cracking an inside in an attempt to reminisce about times before your split

ex-husband!rafe will still introduce you as his wife in business outings, a sharp smile on his face while his hand wanders possessively low at the small part of your back, and sometimes you liked how he took stake of what was his

ex-husband!rafe would always attend school events for their daughter, cheering their daughter at the soccer match, and making decisions over coffee

ex-husband!rafe would have you a new bouquet every single time he comes to your house- almost as if to make up for every single one he didn't give you when the two of you were together

ex-husband!rafe still glances at you in that way where dull sparks travel up into your heart, and you feel the testament of time and the feeling that you would never forget the imprint he has on your mind

ex-husband!rafe always compliments you, and sometimes he kisses your forehead, and when you're crying too hard he bundles you in his arms and tells you everything

ex-husband!rafe watches cheesy romance movies with you, both of your legs entwined, and he watches you during those rom coms all teary eyed and telling him it was the best time for romance

ex-husband!rafe lets you know everything that happens in his life, if it's for a little chat or a ride in his car- and his car? he still drives you everywhere. who knows the types of sickos there are in the world? that's what he says to say as he rants furiously

ex-husband!rafe is still the first emergency contact in your phone, and when you get in trouble - he's running to you, arms open to cradle you in his warmth. he always knows how to handle the situation

ex-husband!rafe starts baking for you, and sometimes he leaves a few cupcakes or muffins every single he comes. at this point you feel the sudden urge to grab his face and kiss him every single time he cheekily leaves more loafs of bread for you

ex-husband!rafe loves your daughter and you to the moon and back, and he calls the two of you, "his girls," and you swear sometimes you feel your heart break when you see the wary look on his face

ex-husband!rafe always avoids the question regarding why you split up, because he sees the way hot tears well up in your eyes, and the way your hands shake underneath the table and the last time a bastard asked that question--rafe almost punched him in the face

ex-husband!rafe curses himself every single day for signing those papers and letting the best goddamn thing he ever had go.

[deadsnakey]

𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐆 —> 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏

GENRE —> FLUFF

characters; Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise zabini, Lorenzo Berkshire, Draco Malfoy.

You've been accepted into the friend group, the longer you're with everyone the more you build bonds with each one.

Inspired by @girllblogging777

✩ You and mattheo are definitely best friends and are the closest out of the whole group.

✩ Lorenzo sees you as a little sister and you see him as an older brother, but mattheo and you radiate the most sibling energy; you both have curly hair probably, bonus if it's also brown.

✩ You and blaise study together since the rest aren't helpful or they're just a distraction…mattheo and draco specifically. At least theo isn't too distracting even if he’s bored.

✩ chaotic, certain duos or trios are worse then others.

✩ Pansy and you always do girls night together every friday or Saturday depending if someone busy or not. masks, doing nails, crafts, make up on each other, trying products out theatre weird, movie marathon with snacks, etc. its a blast and the boys always complain because that seems so fun omg????

✩ the boys love teasing the shit out of you because they think its entertaining but will back off if they realize they're taking it too far

✩ you probably teach most of them how to correctly treat a women and things not/to say and not/to do, etc. give them a little reward for becoming gentlemen to keep motivating them. (they're dogs.)

✩ they listen to you most of the time

✩ tbh if you're studying or sum that needs a lot of focus and is serious to you, they will let you work and help as much as they can if you ask for it.

✩ they are probably really protective over you.

✩ most to lease? Mattheo, Draco, Pansy, Theodore, Lorenzo, Blaise.

✩ mattheo, Draco and Pansy is the worst of it, will fight for you.

✩ Theodore and Lorenzo are more verbally abusing someone and Blaise has a sharp tongue when he wants too, he is not afraid to be an ass to someone when it comes down to it.

✩ Lorenzo and Blaise are the nicest in the group not including you. They are still assholes but more toned down.

✩ Pansy and you team up on them allllll the time and they sometimes hate it, so they do it back to you cause they're petty little shits.

✩ when you're throwing up, they'll rush over to get your hair out of your way as quickly as possible.

✩ will try their best to comfort you if they find you crying or upset or sum. Theo and Mattheo are ones who immediately pull you into their chest to protect you; holding you firmly.

✩ they all give really good hugs, but Lorenzo's are probably the best.

✩ they make sure you're eating enough, drinking enough water, not over exhausting yourself and overall just watching over you to make sure you're taking care of yourself.

✩ if they find out you're not taking care of yourself like you should be, they will constantly be on you about it to the point it starts getting annoying.

✩ anytime y'all have classes with one another they will be pestering you asking if you drunk water today and if not, "ok, here's some water now drink, love.", like they will shove food down your throat so please just take care of yourself, its not worth the annoyance and hassle.

✩ crackheads, always getting into some shit and dragging you into it unless you don't wanna be apart of it. (though they'll beg you to agree lol.)

[bahablastplz]

Roommate: Chan x Reader

Roommate Chan who wants to help you destress with a massage after a long day... Content: Just straight-up smut Warnings: Fingering, praise, degradation, a little humiliation WC: 1100

You were laying on the couch with Chan. 

Chan has been your roommate for some time and your friend for longer than you could remember, so to be sprawled across the couch, limbs somewhat intertwined and a movie to be played in the background was nothing unfamiliar. Especially after a long day at work, taking the time to unwind together was nothing new. 

But today you were just so tense. Stiff all over, muscles tense and sore, you were unable to find relief. You suppose that your gym workout from yesterday had been a little intense, and you were certainly feeling it now. 

Subconsciously as you watched, you started to punch your legs a little bit, trying to get the tightened muscles to relax. 

Chan’s hands shot out and grabbed your own, making you freeze. 

“What are you doing, babygirl?” He sounded concerned but the nickname made sparks fly through your body. 

“Nothing,” you say, trying to explain it away. Of course, Chan would never let that happen. 

He doesn’t let go of his grasp on your hand. “You call punching your legs ‘nothing?’” He inquires. 

“My legs are just a little sore,” you sigh. “It was leg day yesterday.” 

“Ahhh,” he says, as if that explains everything. Maybe it did. His eyes are back on the screen, but his hands are grabbing your legs to place them over his lap, pulling you even closer to him.  

“What are you–” 

“Shhh, helping,” he says. His big, strong hands are on your legs now, his dexterous fingers working into your muscles. You let out a sigh of relief as you feel him working away the tension, his thumbs moving over your thighs to rub deep yet gentle circles into your skin.  You’re aware of every movement, however, and you hate how flustered his actions have you. Chan never shied away from physical touch, and he’s even given you a brief platonic shoulder massage before. As your roommate, of course he’s seen you in more vulnerable scenarios, seeing into the more casual or intimate aspects of your life, but this… you couldn’t help but stare at the man who seemed so unfazed. 

As he rubs into a particularly sore area, you let out a tiny groan. 

“Feels good?” he asks, a small smirk splaying across his features but his eyes glued to the screen. 

You nod your head. The tone of his voice has arousal running through your entire body and your breath hitches as he moves higher, still only mid-thigh. You hope he doesn’t catch your reaction–surely he won’t, he’s not even watching you.  

Lightly he slaps the inside of your thigh, causing you to gasp. “Use your words,” he scolds. 

“Yes,” you answer, too fast. “Feels good, Chan.” 

“Good girl,” he praises, though the way he coos the words makes it feel less like a compliment. Your eyes stay glued to him and the way he stays unaffected; his words make you squeeze your thighs together lightly, searching for a little relief. What you weren’t expecting was for him to grab the flesh of your thigh hard between his fingers, causing you to let out a moan. 

“Such a filthy girl,” he says. “Here I am trying to give you a massage and make you feel good but you’re over here having dirty thoughts, aren���t you?” His hand stays between your legs, rubbing your inner thigh but not making its way higher. You squeeze your legs harder, trapping his hand between your legs. 

“Need you, Chan. Touch me, please?” You decide to just say it, just needing to get past the hurdle knowing it will be worth it. He doesn’t let up as easily as you think though. 

“Oh? But I am touching you, sweet girl,” he says, pinching your inner thigh and causing you to spread them open for him. “Or are you talking about your needy pussy?” He trails his hand up, resting it against your clothed core. You nod your head unabashedly and he laughs at your excitement. His eyes are on you now, finally, and you burn under his gaze. You watch as he pushes the fabric to the side and dips his fingers shallowly into your entrance, gathering your arousal on his fingers. He pulls out to show you how soaked his fingers are. 

“Look how wet you are for me, baby,” he praises. “My sweet, dirty girl is so needy for me, all from a little touching.” 

“Just for you,” you confirm, and you watch him take a deep breath, affected by your words. Sliding his hands back down to your center, he gathers more of your arousal and spreads it around your clit, circling slowly around the area with his fingers. It’s obvious from his stare that he is more than alright with taking his time with you, relishing in the way that you fall apart on his fingers. He hisses when you spread your legs open wide for him, giving him full access. He moves fast, grabbing your shorts and ripping them off of your body. When you close your legs again he tuts, grabbing them and forcing them wide open for him, slotting his body in between your legs. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” he says. He slides two fingers into your entrance now, shallowly fucking his fingers in and out of you. “Such a slutty pussy, for me.” You relinquish control and let him take over, submitting to the urge to arch your back and let out a loud moan. He continues to babble about how he can’t believe he’s waited for so long to have you like this, how he’s been thinking of touching your pussy for so long, and you start to tremble beneath him. 

“Chan,” you say, trying to warn the man, but he shushes you. 

“I got you,” he says. He shoves his fingers into you deeper but doesn’t change his pace, curling his fingers. “Let go for me.” That’s all you need to find your release, completely coming apart for him on his fingers. He sweet talks you right through your orgasm, slowing his movements. 

You watch as he pulls his fingers out of you, looking deep into your eyes as he puts his fingers into his mouth and sucks. “So sweet,” he says, more to himself than to you. He reaches over your body for the remote, clicking the power button and turning off the device. The action makes you laugh. 

“What?” he laughs with you. “Don’t act like you were actually watching that, I definitely wasn’t.” You scoff at his words and screech as he picks you up, cradling you into his chest. 

“Your room or mine?”  ***

Author's note: Sorry not sorry for the double Chan post, he is my bias though so don't be surprised...

Masterlist Recs

[imonanotherlebel]

Seventeen Members React to Their Partner Initiating Sex at an Unusual Time

----------------------

Warnings: nsfw, Minors DNI

----------------------

S.Coups

Seungcheol would be caught off guard but immediately turned on. If you try to get frisky during a serious moment, like in the middle of a meeting or while he’s working, he’d give you a stern look, but it wouldn’t last long. The second you start teasing him, he’d smirk and say something like, "You really can’t wait, can you?" He loooves the bratty side of you, and he loves to play into it. He’d take a moment to find a way to get you both alone, where he’d make sure to reward you for your boldness. He will NOT be soft.

Jeonghan

Jeonghan would love the thrill of it. If you start touching him during a movie or try to get handsy when you’re out somewhere, he’d play along with a mischievous smile. "You’re really in the mood now?" he’d tease, clearly enjoying the situation. He’d take his time, dragging out the moment just to see how desperate you can get before finally pulling you somewhere private to finish what you started.

Joshua

Joshua would be a bit surprised at first but secretly thrilled. If you initiate in a situation like during a meeting or when you’re supposed to be focusing on something else, he’d blush slightly and try to keep his composure. But your persistence would get to him, and soon enough, he’d give in, finding a way to slip away with you. "You’re going to get us in trouble," he’d whisper, but the excitement in his voice would betray him as he pulls you close.

Jun

Jun would be all for it. He’s always up for a little spontaneity, so if you start making moves in an unexpected place, like in the middle of a dinner or while out with friends, he’d get excited right away. "You’re so bad," he’d whisper, grinning as he starts playing along. He’d find a way to make it happen, taking you somewhere more private and making sure you both enjoy the thrill of the moment.

Hoshi

Hoshi would be surprised but very excited. If you start teasing him during something like a practice session or while you’re supposed to be watching a show, he’d try to focus but quickly give in to the temptation. "You really want to do this now?" he’d ask, his voice filled with excitement. He’d sneak you away as soon as he could, loving the rush of doing something so risky. He loves to match your freak.

Wonwoo

Wonwoo might seem reserved, but the idea of you initiating at an unusual time would awaken something in him. If you try to distract him during a quiet moment, like while he’s reading or working, he’d be surprised but intrigued. He’d put down whatever he was doing, giving you a look that says you’re in for it now. He’d take his time getting you alone, loving the idea of giving in to your desires when you least expect it. He would try to show you that he disapproves of it, but will take control and fuck you senseless either way. "Tsk, you really are a bad girl y/n"

Woozi

Woozi would be caught off guard, especially if you start teasing him while he’s in the studio or focused on his work. He’d give you a look that’s part amusement, part disbelief. "You’re really going to try that now?" he’d ask, but he wouldn’t be able to resist for long. Once you have his attention, he’d find a way to wrap things up quickly so he can give you his full focus, making sure the wait was worth it.

DK

DK would be surprised but definitely excited. If you start touching him during something like a concert or when you’re out in public, he’d get flustered but wouldn’t want to stop you. "Are you serious right now?" he’d ask with a laugh, but the excitement in his eyes would be clear. He’d try to keep it together until he could get you alone, where he’d let all that built-up tension out.

Mingyu

Mingyu would be instantly turned on. If you start making moves during an unexpected moment, like in the middle of a social event, he’d smirk and play along immediately. "You just can’t wait, can you?" he’d whisper in your ear, running a finger down your back, tracing your spine, loving the thrill of it. His breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. It would turn a switch on him, making him dominant instantly. He’d find a way to sneak away with you, where he’d be more than ready to satisfy your sudden urges. But be careful. He does not stop with one round.

The8

The8 would be calm on the surface but secretly very into it. If you initiate in a moment that catches him off guard, like during a dinner, he’d give you a look that says he’s intrigued. He wouldn’t rush it, though. He’d enjoy the anticipation, dragging out the moment until you’re practically begging for more. "You're needy for me, baby? Beg for it," he'd whisper in your ear as he slid his hand between your thighs. Then he’d take you somewhere private and make sure it was worth the wait.

Seungkwan

Seungkwan would be flustered but excited. If you start teasing him during an unexpected time, like during a serious conversation or while out with friends, he’d blush and try to keep it together. "Are you crazy?" he’d whisper, but the excitement would be clear in his voice. He’d try to find a way to sneak away with you, where he’d let go and fully indulge in the moment, making sure you both enjoy the thrill.

Vernon

Vernon would be surprised but quickly catch on to the idea. If you start making a move in a quiet moment, like while watching a movie or during a low-key hangout with friends, he’d smirk and play it cool. "You’re really trying to start something now?" he’d ask, clearly intrigued. He’d go along with it, finding a way to slip away with you so you can continue without any interruptions.

Dino

Dino would be a mix of surprise and excitement. If you initiate during an unexpected time, like in the middle of a game or while you’re supposed to be doing something else, he’d be a bit flustered but very into it. "You’re really in the mood now?" he’d ask with a grin, already thinking of how to make it happen. He’d find a way to sneak off with you, eager to do all things imaginable.

[eupheme]

Do you have any sfw & nsfw hcs for Wade? Thanks!

ooh would love to share some thoughts about wade, anon! 💖 thank you so much for asking!

deadpool/wade wilson x f!reader

sfw/nsfw headcanons | 800 words

SFW

— Very flirty, sometimes quick to catch feelings, slow to actually admit them. A wink is easy, a quip slips from his tongue before he's even through thinking what he's going to say. But opening himself up - letting you see the real him - that’s terrifying. But if you stick around and stick by his side, he’s insanely loyal. He did save this world for you, after all.

— Humor is 100% a coping mechanism. There’s no better way to way to deal with The Horrors or to evade emotional intimacy than with a joke, especially a self-deprecating one. It’s up to you whether you try to lean into that and connect with him this way, or whether to try to peel back some of his layers with a softer touch. He'll love you either way.

— Adding on to the above, he struggles more than he ever lets on. Took him a long time over the breakup with Vanessa. He’s been through a lot - and is still getting over his transformation as well. Would never say he’s full of self-loathing or depressed unless it was under the guise of off-handed joke, but it’s hidden under all the jokes and one-liners.

— Super soft spot for kids (even if he isn’t necessarily the best role model, they always love him) and will immediately slide into Papa Wolf Mode when someone he loves is in danger. Loves what he does but has a secret daydream of settling down and raising a family with you (if that’s what you want, and in any capacity. Dogpools and Catpools are just as adored!)

— Loves attention, which goes without saying. He falls a bit when he realizes you enjoy his jokes. Unable to help talking even more, butterflies alight in his belly when he sees the way you smile at him - chin cupped in your hand as he delves into the numerous plot holes scattered throughout the Golden Girls.

— When it comes to love languages, his giving is Words of Affirmation. He is so giving with his words, even if his compliments don’t always make sense. (“absolute lamborghini of a woman” he says, with massive heart-eyes). While it might take a while for him to tell you just how much he feels for you, once he does you’ll never doubt how much he loves you again. (Which is, apparently, more than “Ryan Reynolds loves playing himself.”)

— His getting is Quality Time and Physical Touch. Wade loves spending time with you. Coming home to your smile makes every knife to the groin worth it. And if he gets to spend time and have you wrapped around him - a night watching movies, your head on his shoulder, or maybe something that is more “clothing optional” - he couldn’t be happier.

NSFW

— Switch. Down to dom if you’d like, will rail you into next week. Pound you into the mattress with your hands tugged above your head, crooning filth into your ear as he makes you come again. But if you’d like to switch it up - pinning down his wrists and making him beg (maybe with a strap, if he’s lucky), he’ll melt into a puddle.

— His dirty talk is insane. If he gets the hint that you like might something, he’s leaning into it 100%. Not even he knows what he's saying when he's balls-deep in you, but he loves the way you clench down around him when he does. And he's never one to judge a kink - he’s got a mile-long list he’d love to share with you.

— Very into teasing. Yes, there's some nights where hes too eager, with the way he misses you. But on others, there's nothing he likes more than taking his time. The slow drag of his fingers against your skin. Getting you just there, only to ease up. Making you beg, just a little - he loves the way you cry out his name.

— Loves marking you. Yes, there's something exquisite about feeling himself empty into you, the way your thighs hook around his hips to keep him deep ("kinky", he groans) but he appreciates the way he looks on you. Spilling across your tits, your mouth. Smearing himself across your pussy - it's enough to have him ready to go again.

— A little bit posessive. It's not that he doesn't trust you. He absolutely does - knows that you're the one for him. But that doesn't stop him from rocking a chubby if he sees you in his colors, his clothes. Is it a little fucked and egotisical up to get a hard-on when he sees you in a deadpool shirt? Maybe. He tries not to think too much about it.

— Melts from praise. Lives for the moments when he has you too blissed out to manage words. That stuttering breath when you're about to come - telling him how good he feels, how he makes you so wet, how he has you so fucking close - he might beat you to the finish line.

thanks for this request! hope you like these!!