#they look so awkward in this gif i will never not burst out laughing when i see it
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me and the bestie (we are This close to killing ourselves)
#they look so awkward in this gif i will never not burst out laughing when i see it#Alain literally looks like he wants to khs#idek what ayrton is doing it's like his first time ever interacting with another person#also another instance of Alain's patented “'eastern European gay porn' sad eyes”#alain prost#ayrton senna#eyy it me
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– my proxy.
pairing: wise x gn!reader
premise: belle is currently suffering from an incurable disease of watching her brother play oblivious to your obvious hints of affection. she only prays that you confess soon or at least realize that wise actually feels the same.
– warnings: none
– author's notes: i am so normal about wise. whenever he starts talking in game i just burst into a fit of giggles. filler post for now. | ~700 words.
wise despite his name, wasn’t all that wise when it comes to noticing the very obvious hints you throw at him (or maybe he does know, he just isn’t speaking up about it). but belle does, and it sends her into a fit of giddy giggles that she hides behind her fist whenever it happens.
a fond and amused glint in her eyes whenever wise gets flustered after you call him “my proxy”. it wasn’t anything out of ordinary, wise always calls himself your proxy anyways, but whenever you do it on missions or when you go to hollows to accompany the cunning hares, it never fails to flush his cheeks a pretty pink. belle would let out a snicker and kick his feet from under the table and she’s always met with a warning glare. not once has he mentioned the romantic undertones of your words despite picking up on it himself.
or the times when you would always drop by their store to hangout in his room. more often than not, when belle comes to check on you both, you’d be fast asleep on his bed with a bangboo in between you two. a devious smirk would always creep up belle’s face when she tip toes into the room and quietly open the cap of a washable marker to write on both of your faces. wise, when he wakes up, would come running down the stairs to chase belle around for writing “[name]’s proxy” in big bold letters on his cheek while you laugh. never once wiping the words of “wise’s hollow raider” with a heart on the cheek opposite to wise’s.
belle isn’t ignorant nor is wise, but it does frustrate her when her brother doesn’t speak up about his very obvious feelings about you. a sudden feeling of irritation blooming within her chest when she sees your crestfallen expression when wise keeps calling you “just a friend” when general cop or the tin master ask what your relationship is. belle doesn't miss the flash of slight hurt in your eyes before you mask it with an awkward smile and wave of your hand, agreeing with what wise said even though you obviously want to be something more than just a friend.
she’s frustrated with you too. the hours the two of you spend in their workspace, curled up on the couch as you vent out your frustration at wise’s obliviousness. eight out of ten times, belle would just urge you to confess directly, however, you would always go quiet and murmur into the bangboo in your arms that confessing isn’t an option. at first, belle was rightfully confused. she saw how you looked at wise; you looked at him as if he hung the sun and moon himself. he was your entire world and you had him putty in your hands with just two words. it wasn’t until the day after when belle finally realizes –when nicole has her arms wrapped around your waist and an angry flush on her face when you enter their store battered and bruised, but still smiling– that this was a first for you too.
before becoming a regular client, you would recklessly jump into hollows without a carrot or a proxy. barely making it out alive if nicole hadn’t found you and made you a member of her little band of misfits. you were enamored with wise when he first patched you up. you didn’t have anyone before him that cared enough to lecture you about danger, your recklessness, and bad habits. he was probably the first person that genuinely showed concern for you so belle understood for a moment why you didn’t want to confess. she’s watched enough romance movies and read books and comics to know that confessing has its risks. your friendship that you painstakingly built with her brother brick by brick would come crumbling down if you said those three words.
“my dearest proxies,” you barreled into their store front with a bright grin. belle doesn’t miss the twinkle in wise’s eyes when he sees you. “let’s go out for lunch. my treat!”
“what’s the occasion?” wise asks, putting down the boxes of videotapes on the counter to give you his undiverted attention.
your grin reached your eyes as you waved a piece of parchment in front of them both. “it’s paycheck day! and what better way than to treat my proxies to lunch for taking such good care of me.”
“count me in!” belle merrily jogs towards you and gives you a high five.
“what do you say wise?” belle flashed her brother with a knowing look. the boy only shook his head and started leading the two of you out the store.
“well, how can i say no to free food?”
wise stole a laugh from your lungs as you tangled your arms with them both. “that’s my proxy. now let’s go!”
belle never misses the way wise’s cheeks flush whenever you intertwine your arms together; it was as easy as breathing for you. she just hopes that one day you’ll see for yourself that wise also feels the same, he’s just clueless and a little shy to show it unlike you.
© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.
#—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#zenless zone zero x reader#zenless zone zero headcanons#zenless zone zero wise#zzz wise#zzz wise x reader#wise x reader#( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ
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No I’m Not
Austin Butler x reader
Warnings - 18+, smut, sub!austin, handjob, kind of public sex, slight edging
Word count - 3052
A/n - request: “Please can you write an Austin smut where he’s really possessive? Maybe you and him bump into one of your exes?” - i was supposed to write this as soon as i got the request 2 weeks ago, but my motivation went down hill im so sorry💀, anyways i hope you all enjoy :)
“It’s so hot out here,” you whine, fanning yourself with your hand.
A chuckle leaves Austin as he looks down at you through his sunglasses. “I asked you if you wanted to go inside, and you said no.”
“It’s too cold inside, i’m just going to want to come back outside to warm up,” you roll your eyes.
The two of you were at a house party hosted by one of Austin’s friends, and you were leaning against the railing in the backyard admiring the view of LA. The house was beautiful, and in your opinion had way too many rooms for a single man, but you don’t expect anything less given the fact that the guy was loaded. There isn’t even a door to the backyard, it’s just a giant open wall.
“I could shove you into the pool, that would help you cool off,” Austin jokes,
“I dare you, see what happens,” you give him a warnings look and he just smirks.
“I actually would like to see what would happen,” he says. He suddenly grabs you by the waist and pretends to push you into the pool. You let out a scream as you cling onto his shirt, thankful that the backyard was too crowded and loud for anyone to really care about the two of you.
“Keep playing around and you’re sleeping in the living room,” you tell him as you shove his chest, only partly joking.
Austin fake gasps, and just as he’s about to say something, he’s interrupted by one of his friends he had met while shooting his latest film. Austin has talked about him several times, but you’ve never actually met him until now.
“Austin! So good to see you,” the man smiles brightly as he brings Austin into a hug. Austin happily accepts it as he beams at the man in front of him, eyes bright. “Surprised you're here, y’know since you're a homebody and all.”
Austin smiles as he pulls away from the hug. “I have to leave the house sometimes and let everyone know I’m alive.”
The man laughs in return, and right as you’re starting to feel awkward from standing there, Austin speaks up and introduces his friend to you.
“Cal, this is my girlfriend,” Austin says proudly as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.
You thought Cal was going to offer you his hand to shake, but instead he leans in to give you a hug as well. You’re a little thrown off at first at his friendliness, but quickly recover as you hug him back.
“It’s so nice to finally meet the girl Austin wouldn’t stop telling everyone about every other day on set,” Cal tells you, pulling away and shooting Austin a smirk.
When Austin had left to shoot the film, the two of you had just started dating, and it was the first time he would be leaving you for that long9. The two of you made sure to talk as much as possible, and Austin being the person he is was happy to tell anyone who would listen about you. It was mainly Cal.
Sometimes it wasn’t even on purpose. He would be in a conversation, and when something was said that reminded him of you, he said it.
Austin shakes his head as he looks down at you, his ears turn pink at Cal’s exaggeration, as he looks down at you. “He’s lying.”
“He’s right,” Cal glances at you before looking Austin in the eye with a straight face, “it was more like everyday.”
Austin pulls away from you to playfully give Cal a shove, causing Cal to throw his head back as he bursts into a fit of laughter.
You shake your head in amusement as you watch the two of them fool around. Feeling like you should give them space and a chance to talk and catch up, you decide to head inside for a drink. After informing Austin of your plans and giving Cal a quick ‘it was nice to meet you’, you turn around and maneuver your way through the crowd.
Right as you're about to walk inside, you bump into someone who was laughing with their back towards you. You stumble back, and you’re about to shoot the person a dirty look when they turn around to reveal your ex-boyfriend Ryan. Your expression quickly changes as you smile up at him in surprise.
He looks the same since you last saw him, the only difference is that he has gotten older.
“I’m so sorry about that, I wasn’t paying attention,” he apologizes as he brings you in for a hug, which you gladly accept. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here with Austin,” you gesture behind you to the two men, who already seem to have gotten into a deep conversation. “What are you doing here?”
“A friend invited me, and you know I can’t say no to being in a house like this,” Ryan motions with his hands as he gives you his signature smirk.
You both had been best friends for years before he decided to ask you out one day. Since you had known him for so long, and he really was a great guy, you agreed, leading to the two of you dating for a couple of years. The two of you had both moved closer to the city after getting similar jobs, and you even ended up being his roommate.
When the relationship ended, it was on good terms and you guys wanted to stay friends, but of course there was that drift. There were no ill feelings towards him in your heart.
“Of course you can’t,” you tell him. He had always enjoyed driving through wealthy neighborhoods and would always tell you that one of those houses would be his one day.
“Where were you headed before I bumped into you?” he asks, his eyebrows drawing together.
“The bar, I need something cold to help me deal with this heat,” you answered.
“Still don’t like the heat, huh?” he smiles and you nod, mimicking his smile and letting a small laugh slip past your lips. Then he added, “how about I join you?”
“Why not,” you say with a shrug, and the two of you move the conversation inside.
From behind you, Austin notices that you didn’t enter the house right away. You appeared to be talking to someone, but he couldn’t quite see who it was due the constant movement of people in front of him. He could tell it was a man, though.
He continues to listen to Cal updating him on what he has been up to since the two last saw each other, but he can’t help but glance over in your direction every once in a while. Austin hates the fact that he’s not giving Cal his full attention, but the only thing he could think about at the moment was you.
Finally, the few people that had been blocking his view moved, revealing the man you had been talking to – your ex. He freezes, his brow creasing and his eyes narrowing as he watches the two of you smiling at each other.
It’s not like he hated Ryan because he never seemed to be a bad guy, it’s just the fact that he always seemed to show up somewhere you’re at.
He wasn’t jealous, that’s just not who he is.
“Aus?” he hears Cal say, bringing him back to reality.
“I’m sorry, man, I got distracted,” Austin admits.
“Yeah, I can tell,” Cal laughs and turns his head to try and see whatever Austin had been looking at. “What is it?”
“Her ex,” Austin tells him and Cal raises an eyebrow at him.
“Are you jealous, Butler?” Cal asks him as he bumps his shoulder into him.
“Of course not,” Austin’s jaw tenses for a second, his fingers fidgeting inside of his pockets, “I’m just not a fan of the guy, that’s all.”
Cal gives him another questioning look, still not believing him. “Any specific reason?” he asks, and Austin shoots him a glare. “What? I’m just asking because it looks a whole lot like jealousy to me.”
“I’m fine, I promise,” Austin rolls his eyes. Cal just snickers, deciding not to push him any further.
Meanwhile, you were standing by the bar with Ryan as you listened to him ramble on about what he’s been up to in life. You don’t mind, really, Ryan has always been like this – not in a douche-y way, he just loved to talk – and you don’t see him changing anytime soon.
You both had gotten something to drink – Ryan's was alcohol and yours was not, given the fact you felt it was too hot to be drinking. Suddenly, you see Ryan’s eyes dart away from yours and he stops in the middle of his sentence. Your eyes narrow as you glance away to see what caught his attention, but you look back at him confused.
Ryan smiles once he sees your face. “There’s this girl I've been trying to go on a date with me for a week now, and she’s standing over there,” he explains as he nods his head in what you guess is the girl’s direction.
“And no luck?” you assume, and he nods.
“Yes, but that doesn't mean I'm going to give up just yet,” he adds. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to take care of.”
You can’t help but laugh to yourself as you watch Ryan adjust his appearance as he walks away from you. Deciding you should use the bathroom before heading back out to Austin, you make your way deeper into the house and eventually find a bathroom to use.
While all this was happening, Austin had ended his conversation with Cal and entered the house in search of you. It doesn’t take him long to find you as he notices you leaving the bar and heading down one of the home’s many hallways.
As you’re washing your hands and checking your appearance in the mirror, you hear a knock on the bathroom door. Assuming it’s just some random stranger needing to relieve themself, you quickly speak up to say, “Just a second!”
“It’s me, open the door,” you hear, instantly recognizing the voice on the other side.
You dry your hands before opening the door to reveal Austin standing there looking right back at you. He simply brushes past you and enters, ignoring your curious look.
“Austin?”
“Hmm?” he innocently asks as he leans against the bathroom counter.
“What are you doing here?” you question as you close the door behind him.
“You were taking a long time to come back outside, and I just wanted to check on you,” he shrugs.
“How did you know I was in here?”
“I asked Ryan where you were and he pointed me out the direction he saw you going,” Austin lied. He was too focused on you to notice Ryan in the crowd, and there’s no way he’s going to willingly tell you that he followed you. “How’s he doing by the way?”
You’re thrown off. “Who, Ryan? He’s doing well, we were just chatting a couple minutes ago,” you tell him as you look him up and down. You notice how tense he was, his arms folded across his chest as he looks at you. “Wait a minute…are you jealous?” you wonder, not completely offended.
“Why do guys keep asking me that?” Austin rolls his eyes.
“What? Who else asked you?” you furrow your eyebrows as you look up at him.
Austin hesitates for a second. “Cal.”
Now it’s your turn to cross your arms. “Well if someone else notices it, then it must be true.”
“I can assure you, I’m fine. There’s nothing to be jealous of.”
“You’re right… there is nothing to be jealous of, but you are,” you point out.
“I’m fine,” Austin repeats.
You scoff. “You’re not fine. Just admit it, you’re jealous.”
“No, because it wouldn’t be true.”
You just stare at him, holding back a smile from forming on your lips. Austin just stares at you right back.
Ok, then.
“So you wouldn’t mind if I left you in here to go find Ryan so I could finish my conversation with him?”
Austin gives you a look, silently daring you.
Your lips break into a smile as you let a laugh slip out. “Oh relax, I’m just messing with you.”
You uncross your arms to wrap them around Austin’s waist – whose arms were still guarding his chest. He looks down at you with no emotion. You smile sweetly up at him as you lean up to give him a couple pecks on the lips, but Austin doesn’t budge. Though, with a couple more kisses, he lets out a defeated sigh and gives in to you.
“You’re not funny,” he mumbles.
“I mean, you did say you were fine, after all,” you laugh as you pull away.
“And I am.”
“Really?” you ask him, daring him to say the wrong answer.
Instead, Austin says nothing as he silently looks between your eyes. You lean back up to him to place your lips onto his once more, all the while, one of your hands unwraps itself from his waist and sneaks down to palm him
over his jeans. You feel him instantly starting to harden under your touch. Austin’s eyes widened a smidge, surprised and not knowing what to do.
“Are you sure?” you tease as you continue. Austin’s breath begins to speed up, not removing his eyes from yours once.
“Yes,” he breathes out, and you shake your head.
“I don’t think so,” you tell him as you now use both hands to slowly unbuckle the belt on his jeans, and tug the waistband of his underwear down just a little. You use your other hand to rest on his shoulder, slightly adding pressure to keep him in place against the counter. “I’ll ask you again? Are you sure?”
Austin breath hitches as your hand slithers its way past the waistband of his underwear and grabs ahold of him. He lets out a small groan as his eyelids flutter. He finally unfolds his arms, only to move them behind him to rest on the countertop. “No.”
You quickly glance at the doorknob to make sure it’s locked before finally freeing him from the tightness of his underwear, causing Austin to release a small sigh. “No, what? No, you aren’t jealous or you’re not sure?”
Austin can’t form the words to answer as you begin to move his hand up and down his shaft. His breathing is shaky as he looks down at your hand wrapped around his hard length. “Fuck,” he mumbles.
“What was that?” you tilt your head. Using your thumb, you tease the tip of his cock, making his hips jerk into your hand and a small moan slip past his lips. You don’t even try to hide the smirk as it grows on your face.
Austin throws his head back as your hand begins to move quickly up and down his shaft, precum starting to lip from his sensitive tip. He bites his lip in hopes it would help him collect himself enough to answer you, but he just ends up biting down harder and harder.
“It’s okay if you are,” you purred. Austin whimpers at your words as his eyes shut.
“Baby-,” he starts, but he isn’t able to continue before another whimper leaves his mouth, feeling too overwhelmed to respond.
“What? I’m just asking you a simple question.”
Austin's head tilts forward as his mouth hangs slightly open. His breath is hot and uneven as you continue your tortuous pace. Austin’s grip tightens on the counter, trying to keep himself grounded and pretty much up right.
“If you won’t answer me, then I guess I’ll have to stop,” you let out a fake disappointed sigh as your hand stops its movements.
Another sound leaves him, but this time it’s one of torture. His hard length is beginning to become more painful the closer he gets to the edge, and the last thing he needs right now is for you to stop. Right as you're about to pull your hand away, he quickly moves to grab your wrist.
You look up at him to see his flushed and jaw clenched as he breathes through his nose. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to say something. He knows exactly what you want him to say, but he doesn’t want to admit his jealousy. Then again, he doesn’t want to leave this bathroom without cumming either.
Austin breathes in before saying, “Fine.”
“Fine what?” you press, enjoying the advantage you have on him – which he will definitely get you back for.
“I got jealous.”
“Jealous from what?”
Austin lets out a frustrated laugh before continuing, “seeing you and Ryan together,” he answers and you give him an accepting smile.
You give him an accepting smile as you lean up to connect your lips with his, moving your hand around his shaft again. Austin sighs into your mouth as he eagerly kisses you back, his eyebrows furrowed. He places his hands on either side of your face to pull you closer to him, needing every ounce of pleasure he can get.
As the familiar feeling of his orgasm comes back, it becomes harder and harder for him to continue kissing you. His mouth comes ajar as his head falls down towards your shoulder, his moans getting louder into your ear. Any other time in public you would shush him, but the loud background noise of music and people’s chatter makes it nearly impossible for anyone to hear him from the outside.
Austin’s hands quickly puts his hands back on the counter to brace himself as he feels himself cumming in your hand. His whole body goes rigid as the sticky, white liquid shoots out onto your hand and the floor. Your hand doesn’t falter, aiding him as he comes undone. You only stop when Austin winces and reaches for your hand as everything becomes too much.
“That wasn’t so hard to admit was it?” you ask and Austin lifts his head only to glare at you.
like what you see? check out my masterlist :)
#austin butler x reader#austin butler#austin butler imagine#austin butler smut#smut#austin butler fanfiction
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HI! i know you are on brk, so do write this whenever you want, take all the rest you need carlos x norris!sister
age gap of about 3 years
angry lando, secret dating, angst then fluff
im backkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!! im so thankful for all of the adorable messages, thank sm for the support, without you i would not be able to do this! p.s get ready for post spams because your girl had too much ready!!!!
give me a chance (cs55)
✦ pairing - carlos sainz x norris!sister!reader
✦ genre - angst, fluffy ending
The tension in the motorhome kitchen was thicker than the stale coffee Carlos was reheating. You, Lando's younger sister by three years, fiddled with your phone, stealing nervous glances at Carlos. He nursed his mug, a self-conscious hand brushing over the small, purple mark blossoming on his neck. It mirrored the one blooming on yours – a secret souvenir from a stolen kiss in Monaco the previous weekend.
"We should be more careful," you whispered, pushing the stray tendril of hair that kept escaping your ponytail back behind your ear.
"Yeah," Carlos agreed, his voice low. "But seeing you in that dress..." He trailed off, a blush creeping up his neck.
A laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. The memory of you slipping into the tiny hotel balcony, the twinkling lights of Monte Carlo sprawling beneath you, still sent shivers down your spine. Just as Carlos leaned in for another kiss, the door swung open and Lando burst in, interrupting your stolen moment.
"There you two are! Let's go, debrief's about to start."
Relief washed over you, momentarily eclipsing the disappointment. Keeping your relationship with Carlos a secret had been stressful, but Lando finding out was your worst nightmare. He was fiercely protective of you, the age gap somehow making him feel more like a brother than a sibling. He'd never approve of you dating a teammate, especially someone older.
The following days were a tightrope walk. Stolen glances across the paddock, whispered jokes in between briefs, unsupervised moments – it was exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure.
Then came this morning. Lando had been glued to his phone all breakfast, oblivious to the way your hand instinctively brushed against Carlos's under the table. But just as your fingers intertwined, Lando looked up, his gaze landing right on your neck. His eyes widened, then flickered to Carlos, who was sporting a matching mark.
The silence stretched, thick with dawning realization.
"What the…" Lando finally sputtered, his voice a strangled whisper.
Then, a volcano erupted.
"Y/N! Carlos!" Lando slammed his phone on the table, the clatter echoing off the metal walls. "What is this?!"
"Lando, it's not what—" you began, but he cut you off.
"Don't you dare lie to me!" His voice was laced with a fury you'd never heard before. "You two? Since when?"
Carlos opened his mouth to speak, but Lando wasn't done.
"I can't believe this! You, Carlos? You're supposed to be like family!"
"Lando, please," you pleaded, standing up. "We can explain."
"There's nothing to explain!" He threw his hands up in the air. "This is a disaster! You know I wouldn't have approved!"
"That's exactly why we didn't tell you," Carlos said, his voice surprisingly steady. "We were afraid of this reaction."
"Afraid? You should be ashamed!" Lando glared at both of you. "This is unprofessional. This makes things awkward. This messes with everything!"
And with that, he stormed out of the motorhome, slamming the door behind him with a force that rattled the entire vehicle.
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You looked at Carlos, his expression mirroring your own – a mix of guilt, fear, and a stubborn determination to fight for what you had. You knew this wouldn't be easy, but one thing was clear – the secret was out. And the real race for your relationship had just begun.
The slam of the door echoed through the motorhome like a thunderclap, leaving behind a silence that vibrated with tension. You stared at the empty doorway, tears stinging your eyes. They spilled over unchecked, tracing a warm path down your cheeks.
Carlos reached out a hand, hovering hesitantly in the air before settling on your shoulder. "Y/N," he said softly, his voice laced with concern.
You turned to face him, tears blurring your vision. "What have we done?" you choked out, the question a ragged whisper.
Carlos flinched. "We… we just tried to be happy," he defended, his voice strained.
"But look at what it's done," you sobbed, gesturing towards the doorway. "Lando's furious. This is exactly what we were afraid of."
"We can talk to him," Carlos insisted, his jaw set. "Explain things better."
"Explain what, Carlos?" you snapped, a spark of anger igniting through your despair. "That we broke his trust? That we jeopardized everything for a few stolen moments?"
The anger in your voice seemed to take Carlos aback. He recoiled slightly, the hurt flickering in his eyes a fresh wound.
"That's not fair, Y/N," he said, his voice low. "We both knew the risks. We both wanted this."
"Maybe I shouldn't have," you mumbled, the words tasting like ash in your mouth.
The weight of your words hung heavy in the air. Carlos's eyes widened, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Maybe this whole thing was a mistake," you said, your voice cracking. "Maybe we should have just—"
You couldn't finish the sentence. The regret in your voice, the implication that you wished you'd never let things go this far, ripped through Carlos like a punch to the gut. He felt a lump form in his throat, his own tears threatening to spill.
"Y/N," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Don't say that."
But you were already shaking your head, tears streaming down your face. "I can't do this anymore, Carlos," you said, your voice breaking. "This is tearing everything apart."
Without another word, Carlos turned and walked away. His broad shoulders slumped, his steps heavy with unspoken hurt. He didn't look back at you, and as the door to his room slammed shut with a dull thud, you sank to the floor, the weight of your words crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You had just broken his heart, and in that moment, you weren't sure if you had broken yours too.
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Regret, a bitter taste on your tongue, pushed you to find Lando. You found him on the balcony, overlooking the bustling racetrack, a world away from the storm brewing inside you. The sight of him, usually your confidant, now felt daunting.
Taking a deep breath, you approached him hesitantly. "Lando," you choked out, hating how shaky your voice sounded.
He turned, surprise flickering across his face before it settled into a guarded expression. "Y/N," he said simply, offering no invitation to sit.
You stood awkwardly, fiddling with your fingers. "Lando, I…" The words stuck in your throat. "I messed up. Big time."
The anger you'd seen in him earlier had morphed into a wary curiosity. He crossed his arms, waiting for you to continue.
Taking another deep breath, you launched into a monologue, your voice trembling. "It started with his eyes, Lando, the way they crinkle when he smiles. And his smile, oh God, his smile makes my heart skip a beat. And then there are his hugs… warm and safe, like a place I can always go home to. And his kisses," you whispered, the memory sending shivers down your spine, "like fireworks, Lando, exploding with a kind of magic I've never felt before."
Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. "I love him, Lando. I never knew I could love someone like I love Carlos."
As you spoke, a figure appeared in the doorway, frozen in place. It was Carlos, his face a mask of pain, each word a fresh blow to his heart. But he couldn't tear himself away. He needed to hear it all.
You continued, your voice thick with emotion. "I panicked, Lando. I thought this would ruin everything, for you, for the team. But all I see is broken trust and a pain I caused the man I…" Your voice broke, a sob escaping your lips.
Lando watched you silently, his initial anger replaced by a flicker of understanding. He took a slow step towards you, his expression unreadable.
Then, to your surprise, he pulled you into a tight embrace. You buried your face in his shoulder, your tears soaking into his shirt.
"Hey," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "It's okay. You love him, I get it."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Just… promise you'll take care of each other. And promise me you won't keep things from me again."
A choked laugh escaped your lips. "I promise, Lando. I promise everything."
Suddenly, you felt a warm presence behind you. A tear slipped down your cheek as you turned to see Carlos standing there, his eyes red-rimmed, a tear tracing a similar path down his own face.
He didn't say a word. He simply walked towards you and pulled you into his arms, his embrace a silent promise. You buried your face in his chest, tears streaming down as the weight of the last few hours lifted.
Lando stepped back, a small smile playing on his lips. He watched for a moment, his heart heavy but strangely at peace. "Alright, lovebirds," he said, his voice gruff. "Let's not turn this balcony into a waterfall."
You both pulled away slightly, but Carlos kept his arm wrapped around you, his touch a warm anchor. You looked up at him, his eyes glistening.
"Thank you, Lando," Carlos said, his voice thick with emotion.
"Just don't break her heart," Lando warned, a hint of his usual playful banter returning. "She's the only sister I've got."
Carlos nodded solemnly, his gaze fixed on you. "I won't," he vowed, his voice a husky whisper.
And you, nestled in Carlos's embrace, knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you wouldn't face them alone. You had love, forgiveness, and a newfound understanding – a foundation strong enough to weather any storm.
#carlos sainz#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz one shot#cs55 x reader#cs55 x you#cs55 x y/n#lando norris#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#ln4#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#ln4 x female reader#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#f1 imagine#formula one#y/n#mclaren
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Since never. [Fred Weasley x Reader]
Title: Since Never.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader (background George Weasley x Angelina)
Timeline: GOF, McGonagall’s dance class.
Summary: George meddles and Fred finally finds the courage to ask you to the Ball, not liking the idea of anyone else taking you. Inspired by TikTok, based on movie canon.
Warnings: Friends to lovers, minor kissing, harmless pranks. A load of fluff. Fred has a crush.
I’m thinking of writing a part two to this, but it would most likely just be self indulgent fluff 🤍
"You know," George whispers into his twin's ear, trying to get Fred's attention whilst also trying to stay under McGonagall's radar as she addresses the Gryffindor students all huddled into one large classroom. The Triwizard Tournament and the associated Yule Ball had been announced the day before and as head of house, Mcgonagall had been tasked with teaching her students the traditional Waltz. The girls were seated on the left side of the room whilst the boys were seated on the right, kept separate for now as they listened to her explaining the ins and out of the tournament and the ball.
George leans forward to whisper once again to Fred who stands with his arms folded, watching in amusement as Filch hopelessly fiddles with an archaic megaphone, trying to get it to work. "Lee told me this morning that y/n's going to the ball with Cedric Diggory."
Fred's head immediately whips round with a face of utter horror as he turns to his brother, before briefly diverting his eyes over to you on the other side of the room and then returning his gaze to George.
"What, since when?"
"Since never," George smirks dangerously as he takes in Fred's rather apparent distaste to his words, his dismay and disappointment etched right across his face. "But your reaction just told me everything I needed to know."
Fred huffs and slinks back onto the windowsill where he'd been leaning feeling a little embarrassed at being caught out so easily by his twin. His crush on you was one of the only secrets he'd ever hidden from his twin, though apparently rather unsuccessfully, never wanting to be teased about it. You'd all been friends for so long that he never wanted to make things awkward by admitting his feelings and so he'd kept quiet for nearly two years of loving you secretly and silently.
"You should ask her," George says, leaning in once again. Fred doesn't reply, at least not verbally, but instead shoots his brother a fierce look that tells him to back off.
"Something may be about to burst out of Eloise Midgen, but I don't think it's a swan," Fred hears Ron mumble to his surrounding classmates, their eyes all sneakily turning to look at the girl in question, who shifts uncomfortably where she stands, unaware that half the boys of Gryffindor are looking at her. Fred's gaze doesn't linger long, instead finding you in the crowd, whispering with Angelica seated beside you as Hermione shoots you both a chastising look from the other side, clearly trying to listen intently to Mcgonagall.
Your hair is down now, not tied up in a high ponytail like it had been at breakfast. Your legs are neatly crossed in your seat, your school skirt revealing an appropriate but delicious amount of leg that Fred can hardly look away from. You're effortlessly beautiful, or at least you are to him, never looking better than when you are laughing and joking with your friends like right now. Sat surrounded by only the girls, Fred thinks it seems to to enhance your beauty, the prettiest face in a sea of girls.
"Mr Weasley."
Fred immediately looks up upon hearing his title called out as it so frequently is, though he's mightily relieved when it appears McGonagall was addressing his younger brother Ron, no doubt hearing him muttering.
"Will you join me please?" She asks, moving towards where he sits with an outstretched hand. The tone of her voice leaves no space for refusal as she tentatively reached out for his jumper and pulls him up of the chair, moving to stand in the middle of the room. The boys all make teasing noises as he stands, dragging his body over to Mcgonagall, feet hardly shuffling on the floor.
"Place your right hand on my waist," she says, opening her arms for him.
"Where?" He asks utterly horrified. Everyone looking on watches with sadistic amusement at his predicament. Fred can barely contain his delight at the scene before him, watching with utter glee, just like his twin beside him.
"My waist!" Mcgonagall replies, grabbing Ron by the sleeve and firmly placing his arm on her waist.
Fred heard a wolf whistle from the other side of the room and looks at you just in time to see your hand pull away from your mouth, clearly having been the perpetrator. The looking of delight on your face mirrors his own as you each catch each others gaze and he thinks just for a second that if he didn't love you already, it was firmly cemented now.
Ron turns and shoots you a look but you simply wink at him with a dung-eating grin before he is dragged back to focus on the professor.
"Mr Filch, if you please," Mcgonagall commands, prompting the caretaker to drop the needle on the record player, flinching only moments later as the speaker begins to crackle, before a signature waltz pours out.
"One two three, one two three," Mcgonagall starts counting as she leads Ron into a waltz, showing the steps that were specific to the champion's waltz.
Fred and George had been goofily dancing along with the music, hardly taking their eyes off of their embarrassed brother when Harry calls over to them.
"Oi!" Harry says, gesturing for Fred and George to come closer. They move in perfect unison and never take their eyes off Ron as they listen to Harry.
"You're never going to let him forget this are you?"
"Never," the twins say in synchronised perfection with identical smirks before leaning back slinking away to lean on the window as they had before.
"Everyone, come together!" Mcgonagall says from the centre of the room, finally pulling away from a bright red Ron to gesture everyone forward. The boys make no effort to move forward, clearly not wanting to participate whereas nearly all of the girls leap forward in excitement, waiting in a line to be picked.
Fred watches as Angelina drags you up, noticing that you had not leapt forward with the rest of the girls and he has to hide a snicker at seeing your disgruntled face, evidently not as keen to dance as your female classmates.
"Boys! On your feet!" Mcgonagall claps, getting the boys to also move forward. Neville stands first, followed by a few stragglers but no one moves forward until Fred steps out of line and whilst ignoring the looks from his twin and fellow Gryffindors, marches straight over to you.
"May I have this dance mi'lady?" He says dramatically with a bow of his head, extending his right hand to you.
"You may mi'lord," you laugh, placing your hand in his. He drags you over to the dance floor and places his hand on your waist just as he'd seen in the demonstration and with surprising precision, pulled you further away as he began spinning you. Your laugh echoed through the classroom even over the music as Fred span you around and around, completely ignoring the choreography until Mcgonagall shouted over and warned you both.
He seemed, for once, to heed the warning and pulled you closer into his chest then, placing his hand back onto your waist as he held you close, managing to quickly pick up the footwork that was needed for the waltz.
It was so intimate and romantic that you had to remind yourself frequently that this was Fred you were dancing with, knowing that he was out of bounds on account of your friendship with him and his siblings.You had to resist the urge to rest your head on his chest as you danced, enjoying the closeness as you half watched the rest of your house dancing around you.
"Do you have a date to the ball yet?" You hear Fred ask as he dances with you, hand resting on your lower back after lifting you in perfectly sync with the music.
"Not yet," you say, looking up to see him watching you with an intensity you couldn't place. "You?" You ask, temporarily breaking your eye contact as he clutched your waist, lifting you again and then taking your waist and your hand to spin you, just as the champions waltz demanded. He didn't verbally reply but instead shook his head with a frown before pulling you in closer and spinning you with more intensity which had you laughing again.
"Y/n," Fred says as he looks down at you, pausing his movements to speak but he's interrupted by Mcgonagall calling time on the dance class. She begins addressing the room of students on details of the ball and you all listen intently until she dismisses the class. When you turn back to Fred you notice he'd joined George and was already walking out the door, bag slung over his right shoulder. Angelina joined you, bringing you your bag as you said goodbye to Ginny and Hermione before walking to your next class together.
"You and Fred looked rather close," Angelina says as you place your bag onto your shoulder.
"He's my best friend Ange," you say, nudging her shoulder and rolling your eyes, pretending that you hadn't enjoyed it quite as much as you did.
"Has he asked you to the ball?" She says, not even flinching.
"No and I doubt he will," you say with a forced huff of a self-deprecating laugh.
"I hope George asks me," she says longingly as you turn the corner towards the charms classroom, instantly falling silent as you see the two brothers you'd been discussing already standing in the doorway to the classroom.
George looks over and smiles at you both, mainly Angelina as he beckons you over and you don't hesitate wiggling your eyebrows at her once he looked away, causing her to nudge you forcefully right back. You momentarily loose your balance from the unexpected nudge and as if on instinct, Fred's arms reach out to catch you.
"Falling for me princess?" He smirks, causing you to roll your eyes.
"You'd love that Weasley," you counter once you'd steadied yourself, seeing that George and Ange had already taken their seats.
"Ladies first," Fred says, opening his arms to gesture for you to go through the doorway first and you send him a sarcastic smile of gratitude before taking your seat next to Ang, in front of Fred.
Throughout the class you were desperately distracted, barely even listening or taking notes. thinking of your dance with Fred earlier and how he'd marched directly over to you ahead of all the other boys. You hoped that he was going to ask you to the ball, though you knew it would just be a pipe dream. Hopefully someone would ask you, even just as friends.
A piece of scrunched up parchment hits you square in the head, making you look round with a glare. Fred immediately smiles widely at you, if not a little sarcastically before he sends another note over to you with his wand, a little origami bird flying over your shoulder and onto the desk in front of you. Your eyebrows knit together in questioning as you look up at him again but he simply raises his eyebrows as if to say 'read it' and you turn and unfold the note delicately, shooting a quick look towards the professor to check that they weren't watching you.
'Black lake 7pm?"
You turned around, still looking confused but when you saw Fred watching you eagerly, you nodded with a little smile. He smiled back, winking at you before dropping his gaze back down to his work.
You secretly nudged Ang beside you and gestured with your eyes down to the little note, seeing her eyes bulge comically as she let out a little silent squeal of delight once she reads the note. She looks at you excitedly and wordlessly nods, as if thinking the same thing.
It's 6:50pm and you hadn't seen Fred or George at dinner which was unusual to say the least. Angelina and Harry had been there so it wasn't a Quidditch thing, which only confused you more. You made your way out of the castle utilising one of the secret passageways that you'd taken multiple times with the twins to avoid being seen, climbing around the statue of Gregory the smarmy and slipped down into the passage, walking the length of the little corridor until you could hear water rippling. You climbed up the little rocky steps and found yourself looking out at the Great Lake, beside the rocky cliffs that hid you from sight.
"Evening," you a voice called out from behind you, making you turn and frown. It was hard to see in just the moonlight with the shadows of the cliffs creating even more darkness, but you immediately sensed that something wasn't right. The person jumped down from where they had been perched on the rock and as they moved closer their long red hair and wooden jumper emblazoned with an 'F' came into focus.
"Hi, Fred," you said unconvincingly, looking at the bloke in front of you.
"Glad you could come gorgeous," he says, shifting to stand next to you. You couldn't help but observe him, looking at his features with subtle glances and questioning eyes.
"It's pretty out here tonight don't you think," he says with a shy smirk, though his eyes focus entirely on you as he speaks.
"Uh yeah, really pretty." He seems to briefly notice your lack of reply and casts a glance up at your eyes before looking away, focusing his attention on something to the right for just a moment.
"I've been thinking a lot about our dance earlier," he says shyly and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes now that it's all added up in your mind.
You gesture for him to move in closer, placing your hand on his shoulder as he leans down so that you could whisper in his ear.
"We didn't dance earlier," you say bluntly though with humour behind it, picking up a rock and trying to skim it on the water.
"Eh?" He asks, turning quickly to look up at your face in surprise, taken aback by his words.
"I danced with Fred earlier. Where is he anyway?" You ask quietly, raising your eyebrow at him, foiling his plan. He barks out a loud laugh at your discovery and you immediately see the performance drop from his body as he slinks down to his regular stance, once again being himself. He subtly nods his head to the right and your eyes light up in glee as you lean back over to him.
"Want to mess with him?" You ask with a suggestive wiggle of your eyebrows. George's eyes immediately light up as he nods, a smile tugging at his lips already.
"You know I've been thinking about our dance a lot too," you say flirtily and a little louder now, ensuring that whenever Fred was, he would hear you. You even lean over to touch George on the arm as you speak, your body language changing as you play heavily on the flirting.
"Oh really?" He says, playing along with a concealed smirk.
"Mmm," you hum, tracing your fingers up his arm with exaggerated movements so you knew that Fred would see them if he was watching. "I spent the whole dance really hoping you were going to kiss me," you said innocently and you immediately have to bite your lip as you and George share a little silent laugh.
"What a coincidence," he says, trying to sound like Fred, "I was thinking the same thing."
"Are you thinking about it now?" You ask, reaching to play with his collar, your voice seductive and airy as you pull out all the stops. "Maybe you could give me a demonstration of exactly what you were thinking about."
All of a sudden you hear a few loud shouts and a shuffle as another figure comes into view, quickly making their way down the rocky cliffs and running comically with waving arms, straight over to stand between you and George, who are both now in hysterics. Fred immediately notices the two of you laughing and freezes in confusion before realising that he'd been played.
"When did you figure it out?" He says, sounding aghast at you seeing through their little scheme.
"The second George said 'evening'," you chuckled, straightening back up and laughing again as Fred and George begin to squabble about who's fault it was.
"Anyway, have fun you two," George says with a wiggle of his eyebrows before walking down the steps to the concealed passage, leaving you and the real Fred alone.
"You know that doesn't work with me," you say, turning to him with a smirk on your face, seeing him already looking at you and shrugging with a playful grin. "Why did you swap?"
"Needed to know you could tell us apart," he says with a cheeky grin that makes you frown, silently questioning him. "Gonna need to know which one's your date to the ball aren't you. Can't have you dancing with the wrong bloke."
Your eyes immediately widen and a smile beams across your face as his words register with you. He chuckles, seeing your reaction before dramatically getting down on one knee as if he was proposing.
"Y/n, would you do me the honour of being my date to the Yule ball?" He asks seriously, holding out his hands as if he was presenting you with a ring. You giggle and let out a little squeal before lunging at him, knocking you both to the floor.
"I might be wrong but I think that was a yes," he chuckles.
"Yes! Yes you great oaf," you reply with a smile, feeling completely elated. His smile matches yours as he pulls you down onto him and suddenly there's a tension that falls between you both at the intimacy of the moment.
"Still thinking about that kiss?" He asks, a nervousness falling across his features that you had so rarely seen. You don't reply, at least not verbally and give a small, shy nod as you look at his lips in anticipation, thinking of nothing else.
Not a moment passes before he leans up, gently pulling you down until your lips meet, his soft lips pressing gently against yours. After just a few seconds, his hands hover over your waist before he seems to find the courage to hold you, placing his hands on your waist and hip as the kiss deepens, lips working completely in sync as you sink deeper and deeper into eachother.
You pull apart a little while later and both giggle shyly at what had just happened. Fred never takes his hands away from your waist, even as he gently manoeuvres you until you're lying down on him, head on his shoulder as you both look up at the star filled sky, a comfortable silence falling between you as you both replay the moment in your heads over and over again.
#emeritusemeritus#harry potter#emeritusemerituswrites#fred weasley#fred weasley x you#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley masterlist#yule ball#goblet of fire
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pull on your pout (just open your mouth)
stranger kinks 1: pegging
summary: eddie has some kinks he's never told anyone about, let alone explored, and you're more than happy to help him out.
pairings: eddie munson x fem!reader (eddie munson x afab!reader if you squint)
warnings: smut, minors DNI, explicit language, lots of dirty talk, sub!eddie, dom!reader, rough sex, (mild) painplay, (slight) puppy play
words: 4.5k
The moment you laid eyes on Eddie Munson, you knew you had to make him scream.
He was so pretty, so cocksure as he floated through the crowd of the metal show you’d happened to meet at, and his easy smile ignited something within you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. A few people called out greetings as he strolled past them, and he’d return them in kind, either with a flourish of his hand or an exaggerated bow. He had a red cup he’d been sipping from when he sauntered up to where you were, leaned against a metal barricade just after the show ended, and the grin he flashed over the lip of it only confirmed your newfound desire.
“Mind if I bum one of those off you?” he asked, pointing a ringed finger at the cigarette that dangled from your mouth. You puffed once, twice, looking him over in thought before reaching into your skirt's waistband and pulling out your pack.
“Thanks, gorgeous,” he crooned. He plucked a cigarette out and tucked it between his lips, shifting his cup to his opposite hand so he could pat down his pockets, clearly in search of something. After a moment, you reached into your shirt and retrieved your lighter from its place inside your bra.
“Need a light?” you asked, flicking the wheel and illuminating Eddie’s face with firelight. His dark eyes, smeared in black kohl, glittered at you, and the way his smile stretched around the cigarette as he bent toward your flame made your stomach flip. He smelled of cheap weed and beer, sweat and cigarette smoke, cologne and earth - you had to physically restrain yourself from leaning down and taking an indulgent whiff of his hair only because you knew it’d make you look like an absolute lunatic.
“Much obliged,” he said, smoke curling from his full, pink lips. You watched them purse, and his cheeks hollowed as he sucked on his smoke, the end flaring cherry red, before he tipped his head back and exhaled audibly. When his eyes met yours again, you realized they sparkled all on their own without the assistance of a lighter.
“Wha’s your name?” His speech was just the slightest bit slurred, and you huffed out a laugh before angling your body toward him.
“Y/N. Yours?”
“Eddie Munson. ‘S a pleasure.” He draped one arm across his stomach while the other swept out dramatically behind him - unfortunately, it just so happened to be the arm that clutched his drink. As he bowed toward you, his hand accidentally tipped his cup just a little too far, and dark liquid began to pour out onto the asphalt freely. It splattered noisily for a few seconds before Eddie seemed to realize what he’d done, and he swore as he straightened up and snatched his arm back.
“Fuck. Aw, well, ‘s for the best, I guess,” he reasoned, staring into the nearly empty cup as if it’d personally offended him. You surmised that, at this moment, it probably had. “Tastes like shit anyway.”
Even in his inebriated state, talking to him was easier than talking to most men - hell, it was easier than talking to most people in general. No awkward silences or lulls compelled you to drag on your cigarette just to give your mouth something to do - the words flowed out of you effortlessly, as if you’d known him for years. His laugh was like music, loud and sincere, bursting out of his mouth with abandon even when you didn’t think you’d said anything amusing. He kept edging closer and closer to you the entire conversation, and you let him, mainly because you wanted a closer look at his pretty face.
His hair, long and curly and matted to his forehead with sweat, coiled softly around his high, pale cheeks, and if you’d had enough alcohol in you, you would’ve reached up and pushed a lock behind his ear for him. He towered over you, which made the filthy thoughts swirling around in your head all the more thrilling. Something inside you, something mean and wicked, wanted to make this boy cry beneath you.
When Eddie stumbled into you, tripping over his own two feet, you asked if he needed a ride home. He shook his head but didn’t move to pull away from you. His hand was behind your body, curled onto the barricade for purchase, and you were so close you could feel the warmth radiating off his body as you tilted your head up to look into his eyes.
“Got a friend ‘m stayin’ with,” he murmured, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be okay. You can gimme your number though if you wan’ me to call you when I get to where I’m goin’.”
It was so forward that had it come out of anyone else’s mouth, you would’ve snorted and left him cold. Eddie wasn’t anyone else, though.
“You got a pen?”
Shockingly, he did - he extracted a fat-tipped permanent marker from the pocket of his leather jacket. You kept it to yourself how funny it was that he didn’t have a lighter but was carrying around a huge marker.
Without missing a beat, you lifted a hand and tugged down the collar of his shirt, exposing the creamy flesh of his collarbone. The little whoosh of air that left his lips didn’t escape you as you touched the felt tip of the marker to his skin and slowly wrote down your phone number. Beneath it, you signed your name and punctuated it all with a small, black heart. Eddie stayed still as stone while you wrote on him. It was as if your audacity, the arrogance of marking his flesh, had shocked him into a state of placidity.
When your eyes met again, there was a heat in his gaze that hadn’t been there moments before. You smirked, capped the marker, and slipped it back inside his jacket.
“Make sure you call,” you said, your voice low. “You wouldn’t wanna worry me, now would you?”
Eddie shook his head slowly, almost dazedly. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and flashed him a cloyingly sweet smile.
“Good.” You raised one hand and rested it gently against his cheek, silently reveling in how tiny shivers rippled throughout his entire body at your touch, and patted him on the face condescendingly. You swore that, for a moment, right as you were pulling your hand away, you saw Eddie go to lean into your touch.
“I’ll be waiting.”
With that, you untucked yourself from against Eddie’s body and traipsed away.
He did, in fact, call you the very next morning and ask you on a proper date.
Whether or not that date ended up with Eddie fucking your brains out while you bent over the front seat of his van, scratching grooves into the cracked leather seats and practically drooling at the way his cock felt as it drilled inside you, was another matter entirely. (It did; you offered to help pay to fix the upholstery; Eddie refused, and the scratches still stare up at you knowingly every time you enter the van.)
That said, it didn’t take long at all to figure out that sometimes - a surprising number of “sometimes” - Eddie loved foisting control over to you just as much as he loved wrenching it away. He’d first admitted as much a few weeks after you started seeing each other. You’d been making out, ass planted firmly in his lap and hands plunged in his thick mass of hair when you gave a handful at the nape of his neck an experimental tug. Nothing too hard, just a test of the waters.
Eddie moaned.
He looked positively scandalized the second the sound had left his mouth, but you didn’t give him enough time to be embarrassed. Instead, you twisted your hand, yanking the curls in your fist until they were taut; Eddie’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, lids fluttering, and his jaw dropped wide open to loose another pathetic, delicious sound.
“That feel good, baby?” you asked.
“Y-Yeah,” he whined. You slackened your grip just enough to let his head bob forward a bit and then snatched it straight back by tangling both hands in the hair on either side of his neck. He sat up straighter, his spine snapping into one long line as you gave him a wolfish grin. You only paused when you noticed the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
“D’you need me to ease up?” You would have, of course, in a heartbeat - pain for pleasure’s sake was one thing, but it was another thing entirely to inflict pain just for the hell of it, especially when the person you were inflicting pain on couldn’t handle it. But Eddie just blinked at you, his brown eyes glossy and distant, almost as if he was starting to drift off somewhere, and smiled dreamily.
“No,” he said. “Pull harder.”
And so you did.
Later, when he was bucking into you from below, keening and whimpering like he was dying, scalp no doubt burning from the consistent abuse you’d demonstrated toward his hair, you leaned down into his ear and asked him if he liked when you hurt him like this.
“Yes, fuck,” he gasped. “I love it, I love it, please, more, please.”
“You think I should do this more often? Hm?”
“Whenever you want, Jesus Christ.” His back arched beautifully as you dragged your long, sharp nails down his bare chest, staining his pale skin with angry red lines. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, fucking into you desperately, unable to contain himself.
“You like it when I mark you up?” you growled, determined to stay focused through the stars exploding behind your eyes and the pleasure burning its way through your body. “When I own you like this? You’re just a little painslut for me, aren’t you, baby?”
When Eddie came, and he came hard, he was sobbing, “Yes, yes, yes, own me, use me, fuck, hurt me, I’m yours.”
You made sure that afterward when you could extricate yourselves from his bed, you took great care in tenderly washing and kissing the marks you left on him in the shower. You also washed his hair for him, choosing to massage his stinging scalp for so long the water was cold by the time you both hopped out.
You asked him later, while he was snuggled up behind you in his bed, arms wrapped possessively around your middle and nose buried in your wet hair, if he really, really liked everything you’d done.
“Most definitely,” he murmured, kissing your neck.
“You made such pretty sounds,” you said, and Eddie squirmed. He could sing your praises all day, wax poetic about how beautiful and sexy and perfect he thought you were, but when you returned that sentiment in kind, he tended to shrink. You resolved to fix that habit at a later date.
“You never told me you liked all that,” you said, reaching back to rest a hand on his flank. “I woulda done it sooner.”
“You never asked,” Eddie said simply. “‘Sides, that stuff is tame compared to other shit I’m interested in.”
Oh? Eddie tensed as soon as it seemed to register what he’d said, but you couldn’t stop yourself. He piqued your curiosity; that wasn’t your fault, and besides - you needed to know what else could make Eddie Munson whine for you immediately.
“You don’t say? Pray tell, what would be that ‘other shit?’”
“Uh…sorry, can’t hear you, sleeping.” He crushed himself against your back and faked a loud, raucous snore right in your ear. You laughed, and to his credit, he did actually fall asleep rather quickly after that, but you both knew you weren’t going to let that go so easily.
It took a while, months, before you could chip away at the embarrassment barring you from all of Eddie’s desires. You never pushed, never wanted to make him feel like he had to tell you anything, just gently encouraged him by promising there was nothing he could say that would scare you off or gross you out. Mostly, Eddie just liked pain - receiving and giving. He made the sweetest sounds when you satiated the more masochistic side of him: slapping him squarely across the face, scoring marks into his smooth back and chest, winding his hair around your fist, and pulling.
He liked it when you whispered filthy, degrading things into his ear, too, possibly even more than the pain. You discovered how deeply he appreciated being called a slut early on, but it wasn’t until one night when you were riding him into the mattress, that the phrase “good dog” tumbled past your lips without much thought. Eddie’s orgasm swept through him without warning, and you drank in the shocked, blissed-out expression that contorted his face while making a mental note of that particular kink.
His final confession came after the fog of intoxication had settled over the pair of you one day, beer and weed buzzing through your veins and making Eddie’s inhibitions low enough to admit that he’d always, secretly, been curious about what it’d feel like to get fucked in the ass.
“Oh?”
“I…yeah, I guess,” he said, throwing an arm over his eyes as he lay on his back.
“How curious are we talkin’ here?”
“Like…I dunno…very?”
“Baby. Look at me.”
One of your favorite things about Eddie was how quickly he obeyed when you lowered your voice. It was like it didn’t even occur to him not to listen. He peeked at you from around his forearm.
“Do you want me to fuck you in the ass, puppy?”
The sweet, high noise that bubbled up his throat as he nodded stoked that need in your belly, which demanded you do everything in your power to bring Eddie to tears as he writhed underneath you.
That conversation is how you got here tonight.
Eddie waits for you patiently on his bed, naked, rolled onto all fours with his head bowed low between his shoulders, the pale globes of his ass arched skyward. His dark curls pool around his face, so you can’t see it, but you watch his back rise and fall rapidly with his breathing, and the backs of his thighs are trembling with anticipation.
Fenagling a strap-on is more challenging than you’d originally thought. Slotting the dildo into place was unexpectedly tricky - it’s one you purchased years ago, and admittedly, the pink, sparkling hunk of silicone looks a little silly nestled amongst the otherwise imposing black material. But when Eddie caught a glimpse of it coming out of your bag tonight, his eyes went wide as saucers, and it took a moment for his brain to stop short-circuiting enough to carry on a conversation with you. You told him to stay put while you fought with the smooth, cold leather around your hips, and he has, wanting so badly to be good for you. His cock hangs hard and flushed between his hips, twitching intermittently as precum beads from the tip and drools onto his bedsheets.
“Just a minute longer, puppy. Are you okay?” you call, and Eddie nods.
“‘M fine, angel.”
“Good. Why don’t you stroke your cock while I finish up here, hm?”
He obeys, slipping a hand down between his legs to grip the base of his cock. His body slumps slightly, and he turns his head out as it’s pressed into the sheets. Eddie mewls softly as you tighten the last strap against your thigh, and you steal a glance at him. His fist moves slowly over himself, stroking from base to tip and then back again in carefully measured pumps.
He doesn’t notice when you sidle up behind him, totally unaware of your presence, until you drag your nails featherlight over the back of his legs. He shudders, gasping sharply through his teeth, and his hand stills on his cock.
“Will you hand me the lube, baby?”
Eddie releases his dick to pat a hand around the bed, and eventually, he presses the small, cylindrical bottle of lube into your palm. It’s half-empty, thoroughly used in the weeks leading up to tonight, and the plastic sticks to your skin a bit as you snap the cap open and drizzle lubricant onto your first two fingers.
He’s taken more than just two fingers, many times now - a few nights ago, you squeezed four inside his ass before he came all over his stomach. You’ve taken this entire process very slowly, partially because you’d hate to hurt the poor thing and ruin his fantasy before it even really had a chance to begin and partially because you just love how he cries when you tease him open nice and lazily.
You lean over him, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades as you swipe a dollop of lube over his hole. He hisses, flinching away from your fingers a bit.
“Cold,” he complains, and you shush him gently.
“I know, baby. Just relax, you’re shakin’ like a leaf.”
“‘M excited,” Eddie mumbles, and you kiss his back again.
You swirl your fingers around his puckered hole, teasing the rim and nudging the tips just the slightest bit inside to coax the muscle into softening for you. Eddie sighs and shifts a bit so he can grab his cock again.
When you press your index finger inside him, up to the first knuckle, Eddie keens and drives his face into the bed. That just won’t do.
“Uh uh,” you admonish. Your free hand tangles in his hair at the root, and you yank his head back up, forcing him to steady himself on one elbow. He gasps, then whines, trying to cast a look over his shoulder at you.
“You don’t hide from me,” you remind him. “‘Specially when it muffles those pretty noises. Understand?”
“Y-Yes. Sorry, angel,” he breathes, and the slick, hurried sounds below you alert you to how much faster he’s stroking his cock now. You probe your fingers inside him further, watching and waiting for any sign of distress or pain he doesn’t enjoy until you’ve sunk all the way to the top of your palm. After you’ve given him a moment to adjust, you pull out almost entirely and bend over him until your chest presses into his back.
“D’you remember what you say if you can’t take it, puppy?” you whisper against the shell of his ear. He shivers and nods.
“Mmhm. Mercy,” he says.
“Good boy, that’s right. Feel that?” You release your hold on his hair to fist the dildo in your hand and tap it against where your fingers stretch his hole. Eddie chokes on the breath he tries to suck in, and his hips stutter forward.
“This is goin’ in your ass tonight, baby. Do you think you can handle all that?”
“Fuck, yes, yes, I can,” he assures you.
“Yeah? Gotta finger you open first. Make sure you’re ready. Although, I bet you’d love it if I just stuffed my cock inside you right now.” You never would, and you both know that; you mutually agreed that foregoing necessary prep work would end disastrously. But the way Eddie swears and clenches around the tips of your fingers is so fucking cute that, for a moment, you’re tempted.
You drive your fingers inside him again, pumping it in and out fast enough that Eddie doesn’t have a moment to catch his breath. He splutters pathetically below you, bucking into his hand while simultaneously trying to fuck himself back on your fingers, and you just let him - far be it from you to deny yourself the pleasure of watching Eddie Munson act like a complete slut.
A few minutes pass before you feel comfortable enough to add a third finger inside his ass, and this time you purposefully thrust them right against his prostate. His back curls like a cat’s before he allows himself to fall flat on his face. He’s a wonderful, obedient boy because he makes sure no sheets or pillows obstruct his pretty mouth, just as you asked.
“Fuck, that feels so fucking good, angel, Christ,” he moans, brows knitted together so tight he almost looks pained. “More, please, I want more. I can take it.”
“Aww, my puppy’s so excited,” you croon, and he nods fervently. You crook your fingers and settle them deep inside his ass, circling that sensitive bundle of nerves until he’s panting and thrusting sloppily into his fist. You could make him cum like this, you know you could, but where’s the fun in that? You want him to cum on your strap-on; you want him to experience spasming around something thick and hard and unrelenting, just as he’s fantasized about.
He hiccups when you slot your pinky finger inside his ass alongside the three other slick digits. When you start pumping into him earnestly, spreading all four fingers inside the loosening ring of muscle, Eddie gives you what you’ve been craving since the moment you met.
Eddie cries.
Sobs wrack his lithe frame as you work him open, dribbling more lube onto his hole and pressing it inside. If you weren’t so turned on that your pussy was drooling down your thigh, you might’ve giggled at the obscene, wet sounds his ass made every time you stuffed him full again.
“You’re doing such a good job taking it, puppy. My good little slut. That’s what you are, huh?”
“U-Uh-huh, shit.”
“I know, baby, I know. You’re so pathetic for me, crying on my fingers like this. You gonna cry on my cock, too?”
“If you - fucking hell - if you want me to, angel,” he offers, and you laugh, licking a stripe up the side of his neck. His skin is rich with the salt of his sweat, and you can’t help yourself. You force his head to one side with a hand in his hair and follow the trail you licked with your teeth, setting their edge against his soft, welcoming flesh until you bite. Eddie whimpers and trembles for you, so pretty, so perfect, and you bite him even harder. You want him to bruise; you want him to walk around Hawkins tomorrow with your mark proudly emblazoned on his pale throat.
“I-I need, I need, angel, I n-need,” Eddie stammers, breath coming in shallow, short puffs around the fragments of his sentence. You detach your teeth from his neck and straighten back up.
“You need? What do you need?”
“You, I need you,” he weeps. “Need you inside me, please, please, I can’t take it anymore-”
“You’ll take whatever I decide you’ll take, puppy,” you say. When you pull all four fingers out of Eddie’s twitching hole, he cries out like he’s in pain, like you’re trying to kill him. You admire your handiwork, spreading his ass apart with both hands and watching his red, slick hole flutter as it attempts to remain open despite its newfound emptiness.
“You’re so beautiful down here. All gaped open for me like a whore.” Eddie nods, though you aren’t sure if he actually registers anything you’re saying. He’s so blissed out already, so eager, you think he’d agree to whatever happened to fall out of your mouth right now.
“What color are you on, Eds?” you ask, and the way your voice swings upward into its usual cadence seems to snap him back to reality. He reaches for you, fingers outstretched until they manage to graze your thigh and squeezes it in reassurance.
“Green. I’m so fuckin’ green, baby.”
You smile. “Yeah? Havin’ fun?”
“Absolutely. I’m alright, angel, don’t worry.”
“Alright. Keep yourself spread for me, puppy. I wanna watch my cock disappear inside you.”
Eddie swears and complies instantly, releasing his slippery, dark red cock and placing both hands on either side of his ass. He pulls his cheeks apart dutifully, black nails digging into plush flesh, and even deepens the arch in his back for you as he settles into this new position.
You slather an abundance of lube on your dildo, so much that it drips onto the sheets, and line the head up with Eddie’s hole.
“Ready?”
“Mmm.”
“Take a deep breath, baby.”
The head pops in with little to no resistance, vanishing completely inside Eddie’s hole, and though you obviously can’t feel it, a moan tumbles out of your throat. It’s so fucking hot, seeing Eddie like this, knowing you’re the cause of it, and it takes quite a bit of self-control not just to feed him the rest of your cock right away and pound him into the mattress. He’d like it, too, the slut. But you refrain.
You drag in a breath through your teeth and press into him slowly, filling him bit by agonizing bit, and he voices his need loudly beneath you. One hand claws his mattress desperately, almost like he’s trying to crawl away, while the other jerks his swollen cock thoughtlessly, and it seems all he knows how to say right now is “please.” Please, please, please. After a while, when you’re more than halfway inside him, the word loses all meaning for you. You have to wonder if it even had meaning for Eddie in the first place or if it was just the only one his brain could conjure up to say.
“That’s it, baby, look at you,” you pant. Your hips are pressed flush to Eddie’s ass, the dildo buried inside him to the base. He writhes, gasping, sputtering, the picture of desperation. You want to keep him this way forever - speared on your dick, aching for it, needing you more than air, crying so prettily just for you. It’s selfish, but fuck, maybe you’re okay with that.
“Do you need a second, puppy?”
“No,” he wails, apparently offended by the question. He bucks against you so hard you almost lose your balance, and you steady yourself by laying your hands over where he’s still spreading himself. “God, fuck me, fuck me please, fuck my ass, angel, I’m going fucking crazy here.”
A wicked smirk curls across your lips. If that’s what he wants, who are you to deny him? That’d just be plain mean.
You yank him toward you, dragging him to the very edge of the bed, causing him to lose his balance - and his grip on his ass. Before he can collect himself, you gather his wrists into one hand and pin them to the small of his back. It looks a bit silly, you have to admit; his hands are so much bigger than yours, rough and callused from hours of guitar practice, and truthfully, if he wanted to break free of your grasp, he could do so with not even half the strength you’re currently exerting just to keep him somewhat contained. But that’s the beauty of Eddie’s submission - he doesn’t want to break free. He wants to be manhandled, thrown around like he’s so much smaller and weaker than he truly is; he wants to be used.
Most importantly, he wants you to use him.
It’s fucking intoxicating.
You twist a long, thick rope of his hair around your free hand and tug his head back, forcing his gaze skyward. You notice the shimmer of drool on the corner of his lips and chuckle.
“You wanna take it, then take it.”
You pull out, just until the very edge of the dildo is left inside Eddie’s quivering hole, and then slam back inside him again. He slackens against you, and you’re confident he would collapse if you weren’t forcing him up by the hair. You can see his lashes twitching, no doubt from his eyes rolling straight into the back of his head. Your name wrapped inside his wrecked, watery voice is all you need to keep thrusting.
You set a brutal pace almost immediately. Eddie’s bed squeaks and rattles from the force of it, lifting far enough off the ground that the frame starts to screech into the adjacent wall. The sound of Eddie’s strained, keening cries, punctuated by skin slapping viciously against skin, is like the sweetest harmony you’ve ever heard. You pull him toward you, forcing him almost back on his haunches and plaster sloppy, open-mouthed kisses across his back and shoulders.
“You’re doing so fucking good, puppy,” you grunt. “You’re taking it like a fuckin’ pro. So hard for me, too, I bet you’re just aching, huh?”
All Eddie can do is nod. You twist your hand, compelling him to turn his face toward you, and crane your neck to capture his lips in a kiss that’s mostly teeth and tongue. He whimpers into your mouth, allowing you to lick your way inside and swallow all the beautiful, agonized sounds he’s making just for you. You don’t have enough hands, you decide - you need more to scratch him with, to stroke his cock, to choke him and slap him and make him gag on your fingers. You need more of him; you need to take anything that he can give you all for yourself. It belongs to you, just as he does.
The possessiveness that burns through your belly spurs you on, and you growl filth huskily into his ear. “You’re mine, you understand that? Mine. No one else’s ever gonna make you feel this good, are they, puppy?”
“N-No, angel, jus’ you…yours, all yours,” he slurs.
“That’s right. Your pretty little hole is mine, mine to fuck and fill as much as I want, isn’t it?”
“Fuck, uh huh, yes.”
“Next time, I’m gonna fuck you on your back. Have you spread your legs for me like a little whore. I wanna watch your face while I wreck you, watch how much of a cockslut you are-”
“Jesus Christ, God, angel, I-I’m cumming, I can’t st-ah!”
Eddie shudders and falls silent for a moment, just long enough for you to look around his shoulder and see how his cock pulses before the first rope of cum splatters onto the sheets below. Then, Eddie screams. It’s a sound torn straight from the depths of his soul, suffering and ecstasy all rolled into one perfect package. You keep fucking him through the shockwaves of his orgasm and watch the cum dribble down his throbbing cock, spilling onto the bed and dripping messily down his thighs.
“That’s my good boy, you did so fuckin’ well for me, baby,” you coo. “You didn’t even have to touch yourself, I’m so proud of you, sweet thing.”
It takes a while for Eddie to come back down to Earth after that. He mumbles nonsense as you ease out of his ass and lower him onto the bed - in a dry, unsullied portion next to the wall - and doesn’t even notice when you leave for a moment to grab a wet, warm washcloth to clean him up with. He seems to snap out of his haze when you loosen the harness straps, and it falls to the ground with a thud.
He reaches for you wordlessly, long, thin fingers shaking as he clenches and unclenches them against his palm. Your heart swells and aches inside your chest as you clasp his hand and press a kiss to the back of it.
“I’m so proud of you, baby,” you repeat. You gingerly brush a lock of hair out of Eddie’s face, revealing his flushed, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips. He blinks wet lashes at you, brown eyes foggy and unfocused. His smile is sweet, shy even, and he tucks himself against you as you settle into bed.
“Wanna…do that again,” he rasps after you’ve wrapped him up in your arms. You chuckle and kiss the top of his head.
“We can do that whenever you’d like, sweet thing.”
He hums in approval. You lay like that for a while, bodies curled around each other, stroking Eddie’s cheek and occasionally pressing a kiss to his temple. You don’t realize you’ve nearly dozed off until Eddie calls your name, and you shake yourself awake.
“Hm?”
“D’you hear what I said?”
“No, puppy, I’m sorry. What was that?”
“I said my arm’s asleep.”
You snort, and so does Eddie as he rolls himself out from under you enough to free his tingling appendage. He drapes it around your shoulders, and this time, he drags you in against his chest. His hair tickles your cheek as he kisses the tip of your nose.
“Thank you,” he breathes.
“My pleasure. Oh, and baby?”
“Hm?”
“Next time, you’re taking something bigger.”
The shiver slithering Eddie’s spine tells you all you need to know.
#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things fic#stranger things smut#eddie munson smut#fluff and smut#smut fic#x reader#sub!eddie munson#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x y/n smut#eddie munson x you smut#f!reader#smut#stranger kinks#my writing
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The Wizard of Wolff
Word count: 1.1k
Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader
Summery: As Halloween approaches, Y/n convinces her reluctant husband, Toto Wolff, to a hilarious dog costume as her sidekick Toto while she embraces her role as Dorothy, leading to a night filled with laughter and unexpected fame
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It was a few weeks before Halloween, and Y/n was in full preparation mode. Halloween was her absolute favorite holiday—everything from spooky decorations to haunted houses, but especially the costumes. Every year, she went all out, carefully planning her outfits and crafting the perfect look. Toto, on the other hand, couldn't have cared less about the whole affair. He loathed dressing up, always feeling awkward and out of place at costume parties. But for Y/n, he’d bite the bullet, year after year, because he could never say no to the woman he adored.
This year, they had been invited to an exclusive Halloween party hosted by one of Monaco’s elite, where the guest list included celebrities, socialites, and their closest friends. Y/n was thrilled about the event, scrolling through costume ideas while sipping her morning coffee. Toto, however, was far less enthusiastic, already dreading whatever outrageous outfit Y/n would come up with this time.
As he wandered into the living room, towel slung over his shoulder after a morning workout, Y/n looked up from her phone with an excited grin.
"Toto, I’ve found it!" she said, practically bouncing in her seat.
"Found what?" he asked, already a little suspicious. He knew that tone.
"Our Halloween costumes!" she exclaimed, holding up her phone to show him an image of Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. "I’m going to be Dorothy—blue dress, ruby slippers, the whole deal."
Toto leaned in, glancing at the photo. "I see. So what am I supposed to be? The Tin Man?"
Y/n bit her lip, trying to stifle her giggles. "Nope. You’re going to be Toto!"
He blinked, staring at her as if she had spoken a foreign language. "Wait… What? You want me to be a dog?"
She burst out laughing, unable to contain herself anymore. "Yes! You’ll be my adorable little dog, Toto!" She swiped to the next photo on her phone—a fluffy brown dog costume complete with floppy ears, a furry tail, and even a leash. "Isn’t it perfect?"
Toto shook his head, chuckling in disbelief. "You’ve got to be kidding me. You want me, a grown man, to wear dog ears and follow you around on a leash?"
Y/n was practically tearing up from laughter at this point, barely able to respond. "Yes! You’ll be the cutest little Toto ever!"
He couldn’t help but laugh along with her, though he still found the idea utterly ridiculous. "Y/n, I’m 6’5". No one is going to mistake me for a dog. If anything, they’ll think I’m a wolf."
Without missing a beat, Y/n leaned in closer, eyes twinkling. "Well, that’s the genius part. When you’re alone, you can be Wolff with your last name, but when you’re with me, you’re Toto with your first name." She paused for dramatic effect. "Two costumes in one!"
Toto laughed, shaking his head as he sat down beside her. "So you’re saying I have no escape from this, either way?"
"Exactly," she said triumphantly, moving closer and wrapping her arms around him. "But think about it—it’s going to be hilarious. And besides, everyone will be focused on me as Dorothy. You just have to play the sidekick."
Toto let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back against the couch. "I’m really going to regret this, aren’t I?"
"Nope," she said with a playful grin, kissing him on the cheek. "You’re going to have fun, and deep down, you know you love it when we do these things together."
He looked down at her, his soft smile betraying any annoyance he might have tried to muster. "I only do this for you, Y/n."
"And that’s why I love you," she said, pecking him on the lips. "Because deep down, you’re a big softie."
Toto chuckled, pulling her closer. "I must be, if I’m agreeing to this."
The next few days flew by as Y/n excitedly prepped for the party. She ordered her Dorothy costume—a cute but modern twist on the classic look, complete with the iconic blue gingham dress, ruby red heels, and even a wicker basket with a stuffed animal Toto inside, just for good measure. She also picked out Toto’s "dog" costume, adding her own little touches to make it as humorous as possible.
When the night of the party arrived, Y/n was bouncing around their bedroom, getting ready. She zipped up her dress, twirling in front of the mirror, admiring the way it flared around her hips.
"How do I look?" she asked, turning to Toto with a dazzling smile.
Toto stood leaning against the doorframe, already dressed in his "Toto the Dog" costume. He looked utterly ridiculous, standing at his full height in the floppy ears and dog tail, but Y/n couldn’t have been more pleased.
"You look beautiful," he said with a smirk, his deep voice dripping with sarcasm. "And I look like a complete fool."
Y/n burst out laughing again. "You look adorable! Come here." She walked over, adjusting the ears on his head and smoothing down the furry tail. "There. Perfect."
Toto sighed, running a hand over his face. "I still can’t believe I’m doing this."
Y/n grinned mischievously, looping her arm through his. "You’ll survive. And trust me, once people see us together, they’re going to love it. Besides, who doesn’t want to see the famous Toto Wolff in a dog costume?"
They made their way to the party, the night buzzing with excitement. As expected, when they entered, heads turned, and a wave of laughter followed them through the crowd. People were in awe of Y/n’s flawless Dorothy look, but the sight of Toto in his ridiculous dog outfit stole the show. Friends and fellow party-goers couldn’t stop making jokes about how fitting it was for him to be a "wolff in dog’s clothing."
And just as Y/n predicted, when Toto was alone, people couldn’t help but comment on his name.
"You’re not even trying, are you?" one guest teased.
Toto simply smiled, raising an eyebrow. "It’s a costume that works on multiple levels."
But whenever Y/n was by his side, they quickly became the highlight of the night—the most talked-about couple at the party. And while Toto rolled his eyes and grumbled about how much he hated Halloween, deep down, he loved seeing Y/n so happy. Her laughter, the way her face lit up when they joked together, made every minute of this ridiculous night worth it.
As they danced together later that evening, Y/n leaned into him, her arms wrapped around his neck. "See? I told you it would be fun."
Toto smiled down at her, his love for her far outweighing any embarrassment he might have felt. "You were right. But don’t get used to it. Next year, I’m picking the costume."
Y/n grinned mischievously. "We’ll see about that."
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#fluff#toto wolff#f1 fanfic#f1#toto wolff x reader#fanfic#reader insert#fanfiction#totowolff#f1 fic#formula 1#reader#x reader#fem reader#halloween#happy halloweeeeeeen#all hallows eve#costume#the wizard of oz#toto
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「 i ruin it all by saying somethin’ stupid.」
IN WHICH—you think you ruined everything by telling your best friend you love him.♡ ໋֢ ✧
📀ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡
⌗ 🕯️ notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅: n’ two people before me made fics similar to this! @/chillyfrys with sodapop x male!reader and @/dearnows with the whole gang. go read both! they’re both talented and lovely people🫶!
Dallas Winston ;
you two just finished pretending to be a couple getting married in a fancy restaurant to get free food.
you liked the rush and dallas was just really fucking hungry 😭. so when the idea was brought up, dallas just nodded.
you two walked out of the restaurant—shit eating grins on your faces as you hold in laughs. you pretend to marvel at the obviously fake and stolen ring dallas had pulled out.
once you felt like you were far away enough—you burst out laughing.
“i can’t believe we got away with it! like??”
“i’m a great actor, y/n.”
dallas said with a chuckle, looking over at you as he lit a cigarette, cupping a hand to protect the flame.
“yea. that’s why i love you, dallas.”
you immediately paused—the smile on your face dropping. you kinda just stared at the sidewalk in front of you, avoiding dallas’ gaze like the plague.
dallas was silent, his head turned towards you. you both stopped walking, trying to process your words in two different ways.
in your head, you were screaming and crying. ‘FUCKFUCKFUVK😭😭😖😖.’ in dallas’ head he was jusy kinda more, ‘they fucking what?? i thought we were just friends?? are we not??’
“…yea?”
dally mumbled, his eyebrows raised as smoke seeped through his lips as he asked.
nervously, you stood up straight, lips tightened as you become more and more awkward by the second. nodding as you hum to begrudgingly confirm.
a chuckle left dallas’ throat as he sees your reaction. he took a drag from his cigarette before taking a small step closer toward you.
“cool.”
he mumbled, hooking a finger around your belt loops, pulling you closer toward him. you stumbled to his side, his hand resting on his backside.
dallas has never been the guy to outright say ‘i love you.’ but this is a start. you’re happy nonetheless with this, his hand on your lower back, guiding you.
his own way of not saying somethin’ stupid like you did.
“so…you love me, huh?”
“maybe.”
“…fuck you mean, ‘maybe’?!”
Johnny Cade ;
“i-i can’t do this anymore, y/n. i hate that damned house.”
“johnny, you’re always welcomed at mine. you know that.”
you found johnny on the verge of tears in the lot. your best friend was alone in such a time where he needed someone the most.
you rushed toward his side, sitting beside him on the cold grass. johnny rested a head on your shoulder as you rubbed his back, trying to provide any sort of comfort.
“i know. it’s just—i don’t know. jumpin�� at a fuckin’ bug ain’t a life for anyone.”
“jesus, johnny. i love you too much for you to be talkin’ like this.”
johnny nodded his head, not realizing the weight behind your words at first. you did, however.
your eyes widened as you tightened your lips. ‘FUCKKKK—DID HE REALIZE??? WHY DID I SAY THAT??? NONONONO, JOHNNY DON’T THINK TOO HARD ‘BOUT WHAT I SAID😭😖💔’
johnny blinked, realizing what you told him. did you mean it in the way he’s thinking? did you love love him? or was this all just some prank a bunch of soc’s put you up to?
he moved away from your shoulder, hugging his knees as he turned his head to look back at you.
“uh…what did you mean?”
johnny thought asking that would cost him his life. you’re just freaking out in your head.
‘FUCKKKKKK☹️ NONONO DON’T ASK ME THAT?? 😖I DON’T WANNA DO THIS WHOLE EMBARRASSING MOMENT ALL OVER AGAIN??’
“it’s nothin’, man. don’t look into it.”
you mumbled, trying to avoid the scenario in your head that you do redo your confession and he just spits on you before walking away.
johnny, however, wanted you to own up to it. it’d be a lot less work on his end. he adjusted his position, getting closer to you as he asked another question.
“tell me. please, y/n.”
you bit your tongue to stay away from saying something irrational.
“i just said i really like you. that’s all.”
you mumbled so quietly, johnny could barely hear. he was awfully glad that this road was almost dead, hearing you admit somethin’ stupid like that was lovely.
johnny shifted around where he sat, his back straightened as he played with with cuticles, picking at them to distract him from his own small confession.
“me too. i—uhm, like you too.”
johnny’s always had trouble saying ‘i love you.’ this is close enough for the both of you. it’s a start—a start to something better.
“why didn’t you just tell me, y/n?”
“I WAS FUCKINGSCARED!”
Ponyboy Curtis ;
you always liked pony. you never knew what it was. maybe it’s because he was nicer to you than other guys—or maybe it’s because you fell in love with your best friend.
it’s not like you know, anyways.
you were sleeping over at his house, you always do. darry and soda’ve gotten used to it by now—keeping spare everything’s around the house for you.
it was late at night, watching a bunch of movies you two made fun of repeatedly. ponyboy said he was gonna ‘rest his eyes’ but you knew that he was just gonna fall asleep.
his head fell onto your shoulder, his body entirely relaxed. seeing your best friend like this was heartwarming—it seemed ponyboy couldn’t get a break.
you adjusted your position so he’d be more comfortable, a hand over his gently. with your attention diverted away from the TV, you watched as strands of his hair fell over his forehead.
a quiet chuckle escaped your throat as you brushed them back, a small whisper leaving your lips as did so.
“god—i love you.”
‘thank GOD this man is asleep! ☺️🙈this’d be real fucking embarrassi-‘
“you what?”
ponyboy asked, a little a lot taken aback by the words that just left your mouth. his eyes were widened as his ears burned, sitting up straight.
you looked back at him with the same reaction—more embarrassed than anything. your eyes were darting all around the room as you tightened your lips.
“i didn’t say shit, man.”
“don’t even try that with me right now, y/n.”
your immediate thought was ‘hoooolyyyy fuck😰😰’ while ponyboy’s was, ‘can they just admit it already😐.’
“…weren’t you asleep?”
“don’t you have something to tell me?”
“no…”
ponyboy groaned, rolling his eyes at your answer as you toyed with your fingers, biting the inside of your cheek.
ponyboy just decided to say somethin’ stupid like you did—ready to get this 1000lbs weight off his shoulders.
“i love you too.”
he grumbled, crossing his arms as he went back to watching the movie. his posture faltered before a sigh left his lips, a head on your shoulder as you tried to process what just happened.
“you loveeee me, pony😍😍”
“nevermind.”
“WAIT NO I’M SORRY!”
Sodapop Curtis ;
you cannot keep living like this—seriously! how are you supposed to be walking around, pretending like you aren’t totally and utterly in love with your best friend!
he’s way cute, way understanding, way too funny, way too smart (even if he won’t admit it.), and did you mention way too cute?
you thought about just telling him upfront. ‘today’s gonna be the day!’ it never was though... you always chickened out or someone got in the way the second you opened your mouth to tell him the speech you rehearsed.
your eyes were locked on sodapop as he went under the hood of a random car. you couldn’t care less about what steve was complaining about—nor what vehicle this is.
“why’re you even ‘ere? you don’t even work today, y/n!😒”
“steve—she can come n’ go. don’t act like you don’t enjoy her visitin’.”
“what? jumpin’ in to save your girlfriend?”
soda paused before throwing a rusted screw at steve, hitting his bicep. you laughed quietly, watching the two bicker back and forth.
“ain’t you got a register to run?”
“….touché🤨…”
steve mumbled before whispering something to soda, covering one side of his mouth so you wouldn’t see. you rolled your eyes at his immature antics—not finding them amusing when it doesn’t involve you as much.
“what was that?”
“nothin’, y/n…”
he answered with a giggle as soda looked flustered and annoyed. steve practically skipped away, leaving the two of you alone.
even though you two knew each other since grade school, the air in the garage was awkward. like the two of you didn’t know how to start a conversation in your 16–almost 17–years of living.
“so..”
“so?”
with that you went on a rant about a rumour goin’ around. ‘it’s total bullshit!’ you’d shout with a huff. what was this rumour? you n’ soda are secretly dating.
“that’s insane.”
“i know! and it’s like—i do love you like that it’s jus-“
OH. OHHHHH. OHHHH MY GOD.
OF COURSE YOU HAD TO SCREW IT ALLL UP BY SAYING SOMETHIN’ STUPID! you’re soo cool for that, y/n. wow. good job.
soda paused, his body tensed before a sigh left his lips. he chuckled, standing up straight as he slammed the hood of the door closed, looking over to you with a smile.
“well—it ain’t really a rumour, is it?”
“…it isn’t?”
“not if you’re free at 8 tomorrow.”
maybe you’re both stupid, maybe you’re both young, or maybe it’s actually gonna work out this time. you smiled as you nodded, confirming you had no plans.
“oh my glory—finally.”
“FYM FINALLY, STEVE??”
“I MEAN, FINALLY. am i gonna be the best man, soda woda😍?”
“hell nah.”
“man, fuck you and your loving partner. happy ass couple, pissin’ me off in my own store.”
Darry Curtis ;
chocolate cake. who doesn’t love it? sure as hell not the boys that run in and out of the curtis’ house, stuffing their faces with this. they eat it like they’ve never eaten in their lives.
apparently it was up to you and darry to supply the next batch. darry (and the boys) announced it oddly ominously.
“we’re low on the supply.”
“….supply of what, darry? …what’re you’re jobs again?”
“cake.”
“OHHH. yeah okay—let’s go make some.”
and that’s how it started. you flicking flour at darry’s darkened hair, making jokes about him ‘finally looking his age,’ darry laughing as you stood there with pride before he grabbed you by the waist and picked you up, putting you on the opposite side of him.
‘he wants me sooo bad😭😭😂😂’ ‘they looks so pretty when they’re smiling.’
duality of man am i right
caught up in the moment, giggles filling the room, your mind empty, you began to mumble somethin’ stupid to yourself.
“jesus—i love you.”
“mh?”
darry hummed, wide eyed with brows raised as he turned his head to face you. you stared back—an awkward expression across your face.
“nothin’.”
all darry did, however, was lightly chuckle as he brushed back a strand of your hair that fell out of place.
“you’re a real treat.”
he’d mumble before confessing somethin’ stupid just as you did.
“i love you too. always have, y’know.”
the cake was forgotten about for 10 minutes. within said time—you two were giggling about the times you tried to confess to one another
“AW, WHAT THE FUCK?”
“kissing? in front of my cake?”
“i knew it…”
“ight…are y’all done?”
“yesssir.🫡”
Steve Randle ;
steve got into another fight—real bloody and real ugly. and who’s job was it to patch him up—as always? you, of course! who else would it be other than his ‘bestest friend’?
“glory, steve! who were you fightin’? the hulk?”
“with the way i was fightin’—i might as well be the hulk. you shoulda seen me!”
he began to mimic the punches he threw earlier as he sat on your kitchen counter—mumbling small ‘bam!’s and ‘boom!’s. you chuckled quietly as you dampened several cotton balls with the alcohol.
“yeah, you wish.”
“you jus’ don’t see the vision.”
steve mumbled, rolling his eyes as you brought the cotton balls up to his open wound on his cheek. he hissed with pain at first, searching for your hand to squeeze.
you realized what he was doing—your ears beginning to burn up. you allowed him to grab your hand, letting him use this as a way to ease the pain.
“OWUH! CAN YOU DO THIS ANY HARDER?”
“i’m doin’ this to help you, steve!”
“OWWWWW”
“oh my god—shut up! i love you n’ all, but shut up!”
steve stopped his over exaggerated complaining to look at you with parted lips, his face getting red.
“like…love, love? or just ‘i love you, man’?”
he tried to get clarification so he doesn’t start geeking in front of you like a loser over something he could’ve gotten wrong.
‘LORD IF YOU CAN HEAR ME—LET IT BE WHAT I THINK IT IS🙏🙏!! I’LL START GOIN’ TO CHURCH EVERY SUNDAY, TRUST!!’
“like—i love, love you.”
you mumbled, putting down the cotton ball as you tried to regain your posture. ruining it all by saying somethin’ stupid was always somethin’ you thought you’d do—but never actually do.
steve slowly got a grin on his face—seemingly ecstatic at the news. he jumped off the counter before putting both hands on your shoulders.
“really?! ‘cuz i’ve always thought you’d never feel the same, and i’ve always been so scared about that! the gang’s not gon’ believe me!”
he rambled, smiling from ear to ear as he said he felt the same way as you. maybe being an idiot sometimes ain’t all that bad.
“‘m the gonna be the best boyfriend ever.”
“i know you will be.”
“….TEEHEE😍🥰🤭”
Two-Bit Mathews ;
drinking was you two’s favourite pass time. you always said he made the hangovers bearable—he always said you made drinking way more fun.
stumbling out of bucks bar, you grabbed onto two-bit’s arm to stabilize you. he chuckled before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close.
“didn’t know i was that irresistible.😍”
“SHUDDUP-“
you pushed away from him, laughing to yourself as two-bit took a step closer—obviously way more sober than you are.
walking down the sidewalk at night, talking about whatever topic came to mind. sure, most of your nights consist of doing this. and sure, your mind always wanders to how cute he looks under the streetlights.
but WHO CARES?! you need to know what happened in the newest episode of the mickey mouse club house!!😖😖
you looked over at two-bit who’s hands seemed to be flying everywhere as he complained about what goofy and donald had been doing.
“i love you.”
“AND THEN HE-what?😀”
he paused in the middle of his sentence, whipping his head around to look over at you. maybe it was the drunken haze that made you say somethin’ stupid—you didn’t really care.
“yeah. always have.”
two-bits silence scared you more than the confession—the anxiety causing you to sober up slightly. however, the wide grin he got and the small chuckles eased you back.
“cool! i-i mean—cool. i love ya too.”
two-bit said—his words coming out quickly and jumbled together. he cleared his throat with tightened lips before wrapping an arm around your shoulders once more—expect you don’t pull away.
he later continued his rant about goofy and donald—holding you close.
“so…what made you realize😍🥰?”
“i like loser men.”
“YOU WHAT?😰”
#2knightt#the outsiders#listen to somethin’ stupid by frank sinatra#or else#the outsiders x reader#dallas winston x reader#johnny cade x reader#ponyboy x reader#ponyboy curtis x reader#sodapop x reader#sodapop curtis x reader#steve randle x reader#darry curtis x reader#two bit x reader#two bit mathews x reader
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the one time you got sick, you'd never forget it because pope heyward was with you the whole time. at your worst, as you stomped up his doorstep, he took care of you with all his being.
it was a chilly season, as the autumn leaves turned a bright crisp. cascades of oranges, maroons, and golden floated down to gently scrape the floor. you liked it the best, with your sweaters, and knitted hats. you'd made pope some matching ones, and jj teased him for being so pussy whipped.
of course, pope wore it everywhere the two of you went. it was crochet so you'd taken extra time to make sure it fit him. you liked making him these sorts of things because sometimes it was hard for you to use your words. sometimes your tongue felt like an awkward sludge in your mouth—but pope had this way of making you feel enough. there were times where his expression brown eyes, and that smile he gave you was enough for you to sigh and hum.
see it was you acting dazed around him was where you got this cold in the first place. no, that wasn't really the answer, but you'd like to think it was.
"if you hadn't distracted me, i wouldn't have this cold!" you croaked out, sniffling quietly as pope gave you a cup of tea. you'd stomped onto his step, shaking from the cold, your lips cracked. this was the day that the two of you had put aside for a date.
pope had gotten a few scholarship things done, and you'd put time aside from school. but as you stood there on his doorstep you knew pope was looking at you with nothing but sympathy. but you still raged on.
"hmm, how did i distract you?"
you could tell he was trying to distract you. (or maybe take care of you, but you were too mad to distinguish the difference between the two,) it was that absentmindedly way he was gently dragging into his room. it was the way the space between his forehad creased as he studied your temperature. it was the way he told you to sit down on the bed.
"by..." suddenly you felt a bit inadequate, stumbling on your words as you watched pope dabb your forehead. then you just huffed, folding your hands across your chest. it was very hard to be unreasonable when pope was being so kind, but the ache in your throat was helping you become more vengeful.
"by being too cute!"
at this pope hummed again, a smile on his face, "yea? by being too cute? that's your reasoning?" he laughed again, but then watched your face crumble up, and quickly looked serious again.
"shit, i'm sorry. i'm not very good at this," pope muttered, quickly trying to fix your spacing. "c'mon bambi, no need to cry," he cooed. then suddenly he was shuffling everywhere at this point, fixing the blanket, bringing you a different cup of tea because the goddamn tea was too cold, and then telling you maybe he could put on a nature film because you really liked those—
and that's when you burst into tears, "i'm so mean."
he stilled. you took that as an agreement, and you settled again. tears streamed down your face freely as you clutched the stupid childhood stuffie in your hand. apparently pope had thought that little paddington bear had magic powers when he was younger. he had given it to you because he thought you'd feel better. he was so good to you.
"pope, i'm cranky, and i'm blaming you," you cried, then you snuggled closer to the bear, "and you gave me your bear! you gave me the bear," you whispered those words quietly, solemnly like a grave mistake that would never leave.
finally, he turned back to you. his face was soft as he wiped away your tears. he was staring at you with a gentle fondness, "you're sick. you're a little grumpy. you're going to be fine."
you stopped your sniffling at that, feeling your heart swell up. your voice was soft, a bit creaky as you whispered to him.
"you think?"
"i know."
you laughed, in that watery way of yours as you brought the bear closer to your chest, "of course you know." then you bit your lip as you watched pope purse his lips in that solemn, all-knowing way of his.
"yeah, baby, i know."
then despite the fact that you probably had snot running down your nose, that your hair was a mess, and that you had been awful to him, pope pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and that was it.
you knew you were going to be fine.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ໒꒰ྀི´• ˕ •` ꒱ྀིა ♡
#pope heyward prompt#pope heyward x reader#pope heyward#sweet talk ໒꒰ྀི´• ˕ •` ꒱ྀིა ♡#pope heyward fanfiction#pope heyward imagine#obx fic#kook!reader#lamb!reader#yes i'm posting so much more- but idk if i like this one...whatever
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Begin Again Part Two
As a first grade teacher, you couldn’t help but fall for your sweet student and her very attractive Navy fighter pilot father.
Part One. Part Three.
Bradley could not believe his ears. He was pretty sure if he looked into a mirror his face would be tomato red. He had never felt more humbled in his life.
“I’m not sure where she got that from,” Bradley awkwardly laughed. “You know how kids are. They get confused sometimes. Right Tara?”
“But Daddy,” Tara started. “You told Aunt Phoenix that my teacher was…”
“Well,” Bradley said while looking at you. “We have to um get going. See you tomorrow Ms. Y/L/N.” He practically dragged Tara out of your classroom.
You politely smiled and waved. “Bye Tara! Bye Mr. Bradshaw!” You said.
Bradley and Tara leaving meant you finally had some time to yourself. You wondered if Tara was telling the truth. Bradley was right. You did know how kids are. Maybe Tara overheard Bradley’s conversation and got confused. That had to be why she said that.
The next day on base, Bradley practically ran to Phoenix. “What do I do? Phoenix please help me,” He begged.
Phoenix began walking towards the on base locker rooms. “Bradshaw, what the hell is up with you?”
Bradley made quick steps to keep up with Phoenix. “Yesterday, when I went to pick up Tara, she walked up to her teacher and told her that I think she’s pretty,” he said with a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
“Yikes Rooster,” Phoenix replied. “I don’t even think I can help you get out of that one.” She said before bursting into laughter.
“Phoenix please. What should I say to her today? Should I just ignore her or what? You’re the girl here, you have to have something I can do.” Bradley said, voice laced with desperation.
“Look Bradley,” Phoenix said seriously. “Just be honest with her. Tell her that what Tara said is true and that you meant no harm by it. I don’t know what else to say.”
Bradley sighed, said goodbye to Phoenix, and did the walk of shame to his Ford Bronco. It was time to pick up Tara again. It was time to see you again.
At school, Tara was the last person to be picked up again. You led her inside of your classroom and patiently waited for her father to arrive. At four o clock, he knocked on your door.
“Daddy,” Tara yelled while running to Bradley.
“Hi sweetie!” He said while giving her a hug. “Hi Ms Y/L/N.” He said with a polite wave in your direction.
“Hi Mr. Bradshaw.” You said politely. “Before you go, I just wanted to remind you that drop off is at 3 o'clock.”
“Crap,” he said while letting go of Tara. “Sorry. I’m a single dad and sometimes it’s hard to transport Tara from place to place. I fly planes for the Navy so my schedule isn’t very lenient.”
“It’s okay Mr. Bradshaw.” You said while smiling at him. “I have no problem keeping Tara after school for a few hours if it would help you.”
“That would mean a lot as long as it’s not an inconvenience to you.” He said. Bradley couldn’t believe you had offered to watch Tara for him. Finding someone he trusted to watch Tara while he was at work could be hard. Not only were you nice to look at, you were also just nice. “You can just call me Bradley by the way.”
“I’m Y/N then,” you said while holding your hand out for him to shake. “I’m happy to help you. I know it’s only the third day of school but Tara is one of my best students so far.” You said with a wide smile in Tara’s direction.
“Thank you so much.” He smiled while grabbing Tara’s backpack and jacket. “Oh.” He said while turning around to face you again. He quickly ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes before quickly opening them again. “About what Tara said yesterday,” he started. “I did say you were attractive in confidence to my friend. She must have overheard and I’m really sorry if this makes things awkward now, but I just wanted you to know the truth,” he rambled on, “But um yeah I apologize.” He said while running his fingers through his hair again.
“All is forgotten,” you said. “And for the record, you’re not too bad yourself.” You said, slightly blushing.
Bradley grinned. He couldn’t believe his ears. “I should probably give you my number,” he said while pulling out his phone. “You know since you’re going to be staying with Tara for a while after school.”
“Right.” You said taking his phone and typing in your number. “I’ll see you tomorrow Tara.” You waved. “Bye Bradley!”
When you checked your phone after getting home and showering you saw a message from an unknown number.
Hey, it's Bradley. I can’t wait to see more of you. And thanks again for helping with Tara.
You put your phone down and smiled. Then you thought of what to say to Bradley.
Happy to help! See you tomorrow.
You couldn’t wait to see more of Bradley either.
Authors note: I love writing these characters! Please let me know if you want part three. Happy Reading!
-Willow 🩷
#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x female reader#rooster imagine#rooster x you#rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster bradshaw fic#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#my writing#rooster x hangman#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw imagine#rooster x oc#bradley rooster bradshaw#miles teller#rooster fanfic#top gun x you#rooster top gun
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Hiiii! Can you write about jacob elordi x fem reader who is in charge of the makeup and outfits on saltburn or elvis?
Maybe there is a video going viral where he is looking at her (WITH THOSE PUPPY DOG EYES HAHSHAJDVDSJ IM GONNA EAT HIM) while she is doing his make up and she is clueless, yk those videos where the music is lana del rey and the caption is like "me when im literaly obsessed with her" or "when hes completely in love with u>>>>>"
And when that goes viral, the cast teases him and they go on a date?
Idk i think its cute :3
───※ ·❆· ※───
You were never one to get star struck. In the year and a half you'd been professionally applying makeup to the mugs of many stars, you'd been unfazed by celebrities captivating auras. You hardly blushed when Chris Pine tried asking you out as he sat in your makeup chair. You'd laughed in understandable assurance as Billie Eilish apologized for almost knocking your powder kit from your grasp; when her brother burst in the room to surprise her. You saw your clients as just that, people who trusted you to properly apply blush and fake scars.
But all the composure you'd been proud to claim went out the window when you'd been assigned to work with the cast of Sofia Coppola new film. You hadn't expected to lose your cool. In fact, you'd been rolling your eyes as the hair stylist that shared your caravan had droned on and on about this new Elordi fellow and how dreamy he was. Some of the other workers in the hair and makeup department parroted her yearning for the guy. But you were certain you'd remain calm and cool in this supposed deities presence.
And then he sat down in your chair. And he looked up to you with an intriguing set of droopy dark eyes. And you knew Jacob Elordi was about to be a real problem for you.
It wasn't his fame. You weren't swept up by his essence because of the collective crowd on the internet drooling over the guy. It wasn't even his magnetism. Because he did have a lot of that, you wavered it was necessary to survive fame. But it was more the way he would look up at you from that make up chair. With those dumb stupid big beautiful eyes. And his smile that followed. And then the infuriating way he'd start conversations with you, those first few days on set.
"What'd you have for breakfast this morning?" Jacob would wonder, watching as you readied a sponge. You would answer and ask for his in return. He would mention stopping by a cafe earlier and go on to ask you where you grew up and if you liked it there and what the best book you've ever read was called.
"You've got to stop chatting away, makes it hard to do your touch up's." You'd smile, reaching out to adjust Jacobs perfect fucking face so you could work on his brows.
"Sorry." He breathed out, seemingly genuinely guilty. He went on explaining himself still, slowly as you continued to do your job. "Don't like awkward silence. Or bullshit small talk. Getting to know you seemed like the safest route. Since you'll be covering the dark circles under my eye's this whole shoot."
You laughed in understanding before announcing that you got it, and waved over the hairdresser on site today.
"Wait, before you go, that book you mentioned..." Jacob pointed your way as you turned for closing up your kit of brushes. Then you watched as the guy wrestled his cellphone from his jacket pocket. "Here," Jacob said, extending the device your way. "Write the title in my notes app. I will forget, but I don't want too. It sounded properly readable."
"Oh." You turned your lips down in a twisted grin of surprise. As you took the device from Jacob's grasp, you felt a surge of gratification that the guy trusted you enough with his phone let alone wanted to read a book you mention not having read since uni.
Not missing the way the hairdresser rolled her eyes, you grinned and found Jacobs notes app with ease, straining not to glance beyond your means. With the press of a few buttons you wrote down the title, and fought off the impulsive urge to include your very own phone number as well. That would be embarrassing, knowing full well this man would never call or text or probably even dare to glance your way beyond the makeup chair.
///
The next few weeks went by the same. Jacob would yammer away until you almost had to hold his mouth shut to finish his makeup. And you would fill the silence by telling stories of your own, because he'd mentioned he wasn't fond of silence and you knew your job went beyond applying lip liner, it was also to keep celebrities happy as royalty.
And all the while you blinked away thoughts of how funny he was. How beautiful Jacob was. You wouldn't let yourself realize he was exactly your type. You wouldn't let yourself dream that you might be his. You simply relished the times you made him laugh. Once you made him laugh so hard he cried, tear tracks ruining the powder you'd only just applied.
The hairdresser who was the leader of fawning over Jacob as soon as he left the room had taken to frowning in your direction most days. You reckoned it was because she'd never been able to make him laugh that hard, or at all, ever. And the stories she told him when he asked her to seemed to lose his interest halfway through every time. Try as Jacob might, you saw his eyes glaze over as the hairstylist droned on about her retirement plan or the grocery list she'd put together that day.
After acknowledging her sorry excuse for conversation Jacob would stop you from packing up and heading to lunch so he could ask you for more books to read, more films to watch, more stories from you. Then his assistant would interrupt, or he'd be called to set and you'd be left to head to the craft table with dangerous feelings of lust and intrigue to push away. You would not let this boy break you of your career long streak of professionalism, damn it.
///
One night, in the middle of a week break from set, you spent an evening scrolling mindlessly. When a tiktok with Jacob's name in the tags popped up, you scrolled away at the speed of light. You didn't let yourself linger too long on posts with him there, not wanting to know anything good bad or otherwise so long as you were assigned to work with him on this project. But it wasn't long before another tiktok popped up featuring the guy in a very familiar setting. He was too famous at this point. You watched as you saw leaked footage from behind the scenes of Priscilla, but weren't too shocked. The stars of the film were occasionally being interviewed by publicists between takes to document their experience, beginning to promote the film.
And maybe you let yourself keep watching out of a sense of entitlement, you'd been working on this set. You could watch a video of Jacob from work, right? You couldn't tear your eyes from him no matter how hard you tried now anyway. You watched as the person holding the camera zoomed in on the guy while he adjusted his suit jacket. You watched as he seemed to talk to the costars at his side. You watched as he looked up and smiled. And you couldn't help but melt a little at the sight, he seemed so happy, so at ease. And then you watched as Jacob's grin widened as he waved someone closer. And much to your horror, you saw yourself step into frame.
You remembered that day, where you waited on the side lines to fix Cailee's eyeliner. While the director was storming up a new camera angle, Jacob waved you over to mention the last chapter of your favorite book he'd almost finished reading. He was laughing over a bit that you'd warned him about the week before. And you were laughing over how excited he was about it, finally having someone to gush over your favorite plot with.
Now, huddled beneath the blankets of your bed, you slammed your phone down at your side, bewildered to know someone had caught your interaction on camera. Raddled to have just seen Jacob lighting up at the sight of you. Angry at yourself for hopping you'd read his body language in a way that suggested he really liked you that much.
When you picked your phone back up, you watched the candid moment over and over, trying to debunk Jacob's smile. Trying to convince yourself he was only being friendly, only cared because he had to find someone to mingle with during down beats.
And then you read the comments.
"If Jacob smiled at me like that, I would die."
"Imagine making him laugh like that she's so lucky."
"Who is she??" One comment read. "Her last name will be Elordi if he hasn't married her already, calling it." Someone replied.
You shouldn't have read the comments.
///
When you were due back on set you swallowed away the excitement bubbling up in you at the prospect of seeing Jacob again. This was so unlike you, to be awaiting the arrival of your client with an embarrassing giddiness. As you reminded yourself that this was your job and Jacob was simply a guest in your makeup chair- the man himself eased into the caravan, ready to get ready for the day.
"Hey, you! I had a bunch of points earned up to get two free coffees so I brought you one. I remember you said you like almond milk so I asked for that." Jacob was all smiles as he extended a latte to you. Awe fuck.
"Thank you, Jacob." You struggled not to sigh with angst as you accepted his very generous surprise. Luckily, he seemed none the wiser that you'd answered through gritted teeth. He just kept smiling as he headed to your chair.
"Oh, me first today lovie. Need to start your dye straight off, you're little makeup girlfriend will have to wait." The hairdresser announced, daring to grab Jacob by his sleeve, yanking him toward her end of the trailer. The other workers around rolled their eyes, sick of her endless commentary. You bit your tongue as you leaned against the counter, shaking your head when a coworker scoffed in the hairdresser's direction. Luckily, Cailee waltz in, ready for you before anyone else. You thanked God for the distraction, readying your brow pencil and chatted to the girl about her break from set.
All the while, your least favorite coworkers voice demanded to be the loudest in the room. She made everyone listen to some boring ass story and practically whinnied when Jacob got up to trade Cailee places.
"No offence, you're fine and all, just don't have hair as silky smooth as Jacob's." The hairdresser told Cailee but made sure her comment was loud enough for everyone to hear. "Oh wait, silly me,"
As Jacob settled in the makeup chair and began to ask if the drink he'd brought you was good, the hairdresser of your nightmares shoved her way between you and the person you were meant to be working on.
"I left of a bobby pin, how'd I forget," She droned in an annoying pitch, nearly shoving you over in her attempt to get closer to Jacob.
"Can you please get out of my space?" You called, annoyed that she was pushing you away from your station without a single polite excuse.
"Can you please stop being such a jealous bitch?" The hairdresser whipped to face you with a manic smile.
"Oh my God?" You almost laughed in shock at her comment when another coworker dared to reach out and pulled her away, and out of the trailer. Another hairdresser apologized to the room for the previous girl's behavior and stepped up to lead charge of Cailee's wig.
With no time to shake the rage that had been born in you, you pushed it down, biting your lip hard as you went about finding the right sponge for Jacob's foundation.
"Are you okay?" He asked, seemingly worried. And that pissed you off too. Why'd he have to act like he cared so much? Why'd he have to be so damn wonderful?
"I'm fine. Thank you again for the coffee, it...is kind of bitter but it was a really sweet gesture, I swear. Close your eye's please." You responded as calm and cool as possible.
"Bitter... sweet..." Jacob winked, just for you to see. It was the best thing you'd ever witness. And the worst all the same. You were sure you blushed. You tilted his chin and struggling to suppress how much you'd miss when you didn't get to be this close to him. He stayed quiet as you finished his face, and so did you. When his makeup was done, almost everyone else had left the trailer. The last remaining beautician was walking out as you'd closed the case to your kit.
"I thought you didn't like awkward silence." You dared to mention, as Jacob stood to leave. It wasn't like you'd thought to ask. It was just a thought that ended up blurted out. And then you were bold enough still to look up and right at the guy with those perfectly shaped eyes to find he'd already been staring right at you.
"S'not so awkward with you."
You really wish he hadn't said that. You really wished you'd never prompted him too. You really wished he wasn't still standing there looking across the features of your face like he was waiting on you to respond. There was a knock on the door just in time, and a voice calling for Jacob to hurry to set.
"I'll see you after lunch, right?" Jacob wondered as he moved toward the door. You muttered something like "Yeah sure," as you turned to start collecting your things. As far as Jacob knew you were headed to the craft table. But as your feet started marching out of the trailer, you found yourself headed toward the manager of the crew you'd been hired in with. You explained to her that you really thought it was best you turned in your resignation.
You'd never dared yourself to tread the line during work. Never been so enamored with someone you were meant to be professional with. It wasn't in your best interest to see how far this went. And it wasn't in Jacobs best interest that you kept lingering around distracting him with stories and novel suggestions.
So, on a decided whim, you packed your things, swallowed frustrated tears, and headed home for good.
///
You let yourself be mad once your front door was shut and locked. You threw away the stupid coffee Jacob bought you. You turned the telly off and tossed the remote toward the hardwood when Euphoria came on. You muttered and cursed and slammed cabinets as you made a carb heavy comfort meal and called your best friend.
The day went on and turned to night as you tried to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You began getting ready for bed, talking yourself into sleeping off all the weird feelings and events that had transpired today. Tomorrow, you'd find a new job and make sure to decline any with that one awful hairdressers name on the list of beauticians.
As you sat on the edge of your bed and set a reminder for yourself to job hunt tomorrow afternoon, a notification interrupted your typing.
Instagram was alerting you that one certain Jacob Elordi was sending you a fucking message. He'd followed you a couple weeks ago, when you handed him your phone to show him a picture of your beloved childhood pet. He scrolled away from it and found your handle to promptly pull up on his very own Instagram, following you with a smile.
Your eyes widened and your thumb worked faster than your brain, clicking the popup before you could talk yourself out of it. Oh, shit now he was going to know you opened his fucking stupid ass message. You really wished you hadn't met this boy. He wasn't even here and he was torturing your every thought.
"You were NOT there after lunch as promised. Call me? xx"
Before your eyes displayed a row of numbers that if pressed would call Jacob Elordi's cell phone. You tried really hard to talk yourself out of it. But being away from him for the last ten hours had really done a number on your heart. It missed him more than your brain was afraid to admit. Your thumb clicked the numbers. Your phone started to ring.
After one buzz he answered.
"I got off set to hear you'd quit and left me to bear that horrid hairdresser without you? Was the coffee really that bad?" Jacob's voice crackled through the line, soft and saccharine. You chuckled morosely at his coffee joke before responding.
"No pleasant greeting. What if it wasn't me calling? What if it was some crazy fan girl?" You dared to venture.
"Are you saying you're not a fan of mine?"
You wanted to assure him that you were probably his biggest, but sighed in place of a response, struggling to choose your words.
"What happened? That hairdresser should be fired. You shouldn't've left." Jacob spoke, as you watched the traffic out your window and relished the sound of his voice in your ear.
"It..." You couldn't help it. You couldn't hide it any longer. "It wasn't really her. I quit because of you, Jacob."
"Me? I- I'm sorry I thought we-" He sounded too worried, and you realized you'd spoken a little too cryptically.
"Not because you did anything wrong." You hurried to explain, interrupting his unnecessary apology. "It's me, not you."
"Is this a break up? I never even got to ask you on a proper date." He laughed a humorless laugh.
"That's the thing." You said. "I like you way more than I should've ever let myself. It's too unprofessional for me to work with you and have these feelings. I'm sorry, I shouldn't even be telling you this. Everyone treats you like a piece of meat, I hate that I-"
"So... what I'm hearing..." Jacob's voice rose a bit as he interrupted you, catching your attention off guard. "Is that I can actually ask you on a proper date? And this doesn't have to be a break up at all."
"Oh! I- wait are you joking?" You blurted, shocked by the tone of his voice and the fact that it seemed like Jacob Elordi was asking you out.
"I like you too, dummy. I've been doing my damnedest to make that clear. You know I don't just follow every wardrobe artist on Instagram and bring camera men cafe treats. I used my free coffee on you! I'm so sorry it was no good though."
"It wasn't the worst coffee ever." You smiled, feeling a calm and hopeful buzz wash over you.
"Well, let me take you on a proper date, for a proper cup of coffee, and talk you back on set."
"I can date you, or be your makeup artist, but I will not allow myself to do both. I have a very strict moral compass as a working lady."
"I'll choose the first option then by a long shot." You could hear Jacob's smile in the tone of his voice. You let him ramble a little longer about the day he'd had and how bad he felt that you'd been moved to quit. He asked you to meet him at the cafe across from the set during lunch tomorrow, and you promised you would in fact show up without a doubt this time.
Fuck finding a new job tomorrow. You were going on an absolute dream date with Jacob. But you were most definitely ordering your own coffee.
#thanks nonny! this was really fun to write#jacob elordi fanfic#jacob elordi x reader#jacob elordi x fem!reader#jacob elordi
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happy new year
Summary: On New Year's Eve, you take a bold step by approaching a stranger, with whom you form a connection.
Pairing: writer!endings beginnings frank x female reader
Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 23, Frank is 42) teasing, dirty talk, pet names, oral séx, protected séx, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 5.2K
Frank (Endings, Beginnings) masterlist
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I think this will be a series, so I really hope you’ll enjoy it! Also, I want to thank @lavenderhaze967 for supporting me!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
You’re not a coward... You’ve never been, but as you pat him on the shoulder, you want nothing more than to run away.
What were you thinking? What are you gonna tell him?
You grab the glass from the table and try to turn around quickly, but it’s too late. You see him out of the corner of your eyes how he shifts, and now he’s facing you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You stop with a sigh, and you find yourself checking him out shamelessly.
His hair looks perfectly styled, but in that “I don’t give a fuck” way you always admire. Even when you try or not to care, it still ends up messy. And the whites in his beard make you feel a little weaker. He looks even more handsome up close.
“Well, hello there.” He smiles shyly before bursting into giggles.
You freeze for a little bit, taken aback by his smile and the way it makes his eyes glow.
“Hi.”
“Happy new year,” he says, still smiling, with his hands in his pockets. He looks so casual, yet so attractive. It makes you wonder if it comes with time...
You clear your throat. “Happy new year!”
You don’t like how awkward you sound, it’s embarrassing, so you need help. Without noticing he follows your gaze, you turn your head toward your friends, who’ve been watching you all along. You try to show them with your eyebrows that you need some tips, but the only thing they do is to give you a thumb-up.
Sighing, you look at him again and notice how his cute smile turns into a lob-sided smirk.
“Is that for me, darling?” He nods toward the glasses you’re holding, and you mentally slap yourself as you hand him one.
“Oh, shoot! Yeah!”
He snorts, amused. “Well, thank you very much.”
With a playful wink, he brings the glass to his mouth, taking a huge sip. Your eyes remain locked even as he licks his lips, savoring the aftertaste. The corners of his mouth curl into a charming smile again, and you sigh, feeling your cheeks get hotter, as he acknowledges your gesture with a nod of appreciation.
“You’re welcome.”
“Anything I can help you with? What’s the dare?”
You don’t know how to react for a second. What dare?
“I don’t know what you mean,” you murmur.
“Look, darling, I really don’t mind.” He chuckles, waving around with the hand he’s holding the champagne glass with. “Just tell me what’s the dare, and I can help you.”
Still caught off guard by his assumption, you smile politely. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand... Where did this dare idea come from? There’s no such a thing.” You look at him with a mix of curiosity and gentle insistence, wanting to know what it’s running through his mind. You feel so embarrassed.
“I mean...” He brings his free hand to the back of his head to stroke his hair. “I was young once too, you know? I wasn’t always forty-two, I promise.”
He laughs, but you’re still focused on the casual way he dropped his age. You wouldn’t have guessed he is over forty for sure, but that doesn’t change anything. You still want to kiss him. He, on the other hand, seems to care about it. Gosh, how would he react if he knew you’re just twenty-three?
“You don’t look forty at all.”
That is the only thing you find yourself mumblings, and you sigh as soon as you realize how biased that sounds.
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but he keeps smiling, so it must be a good sign, right?
“Well, don’t let my wrinkles or,” he pauses to stroke his beard. “My whites hear that. They might feel left out from the aging party and all.”
You can’t help but giggle, bringing your free hand to cover your cheeks, trying to hide your redness. He is casually bringing up his age, white hair, and wrinkles. Is he trying to send you a message?
“Sorry if that sounded weird. Your wrinkles are a part of...” You stop mid-sentence, not knowing what you’re going to say. You’re so silly. “I just meant… you look great. Um, yeah, sorry again.”
“So you think men in the forties look-”
“No, no,” you interrupt, panicking, but he laughs.
“I was just teasing, darling, don’t worry. Saw you turning to your friends earlier and I assumed you got dared to offer me champagne or something. I mean, why else would a woman like you talk to a fossil like me?”
Your eyes drop to his lips immediately when he chuckles. They’re wet and chapped, and you wonder how they’d feel against yours. His beard is long enough not to itch, so...
“You’re, uh, really hot,” you say bluntly before taking a huge sip from your champagne glass without taking your eyes off his face.
He frowns for a second, probably taken aback by your words, but he doesn’t get to say something as everyone around you starts to count. Almost midnight.
You take the glass from his hand and place it along with yours on the table.
This is it...
When the counting hits three, you take a deep breath, closing your eyes at the same time you get on your tiptoes, and crush your lips against his in a moment of madness. You didn’t want to have time to think twice, because you know you wouldn’t have done it. You never do something crazy like this. You’re never brave enough.
But it’s like you’re kissing a statue. He doesn’t respond at all, keeping his mouth and his arms completely still.
You step back; a mix of shock and embarrassment washing over you. “I’m so sorry,” you blurt out as you feel your cheeks reddening even more. You want to look into his eyes as you apologize… You really do, but you find it too hard. You don’t want to see the rejection or, even worse, the disgust. “I shouldn’t have done that, I am so sorry! I was completely out of line. You obviously didn’t want me, and I just crossed…” You fumble for words, mortified, and you realize it would be better if you just left. So you turn around, not even taking your glass. You just want to run away and cry yourself to sleep. You’ll have to leave this place earlier, since there is no way you could face him ever again. You shouldn’t have even approached him, you ruined his New Year’s Eve. God, you didn’t even ask him if he had someone! You simply assumed he is single because he didn’t have a wedding band, and you didn’t see him with anyone.
You take a few steps into your friends’ direction, crushed, but you feel his hand wrapping around your forearm, stopping you and, at the same time, turning you around.
You wonder if he’s going to scold you as you stare back at him, but he surprises you too when he moves his hand from your forearm to the back of your head, tilting your head enough so he can lean in and kiss you.
You gasp when you feel his lips, and he doesn’t hesitate even for a second to deepen the kiss. You feel his tongue everywhere in your mouth, and you moan, feeling your knees weakening. You don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this, let alone in public. It makes your attempt from earlier look ridiculous. You try to kiss him back with just as much passion, bringing your hands to his neck so you can feel him better. His beard doesn’t tickle your face, and his tongue is amazing.
You’re gonna remember this forever, without a doubt.
He breaks the kiss with a pop when you can’t breathe anymore, letting your foreheads touch gently.
“Now this is, indeed, a happy new year.”
“Thought you didn’t want it... me,” you whisper, still looking at his now red lips. You just want to kiss him again and cover his whole face with lipstick.
“The question is do you really want me like this? I’m an old man with a very messy fuck boy past. You know, I even used to do drugs,” he says seriously, but not moving away. It’s like he’s waiting for you to take the step back, and when you don’t, he continues. “You seem like a good girl, and I assume you’re pretty sober.” He pauses, waiting for you to confirm, so you just nod. “Good! But I don’t want you to make decisions in the heat of the moment. Even if it’s just for a night.”
Even though you understand being a good girl is not an insult, you’re still offended. He basically offers one night, so his past doesn’t matter. Fuck boy... you guess this is also his way of telling you he is single and doesn’t look for something serious. And you appreciate he’s warning you about everything. No man who’s still in that mindset would warn you. He means well, so you grab him by the collar of his shirt. “Do good girls kiss you without even knowing your name?” Your tone takes him by surprise. His eyes widen, and a giggle escapes his mouth.
“Still a good... and younger girl. Too young for me for sure.”
You sigh, getting on your tiptoes again.
“What if this good, younger girl takes you to her room and lets you fuck her?”
You don’t know where this comes from. You’re always straightforward, but not like this. And definitely not to a man in his early forties you don’t even know. But you really want him, and you deserve to enjoy yourself for a minute.
His eyes are big, but his smirk tells a whole different story.
“If you’re sure,” he waves around, signaling you that you can leave and that he’s in. Your heart is racing as you take his hand. “I guess you want to be my good girl.”
*
His hands are everywhere: from your hair to your hips as soon as you close the door, surprising you. You drop the keys and your purse on the table and let him guide you to the mini-couch. If you thought the kiss from earlier was intense, the way he kisses you now makes you completely breathless. He’s really, really good at it, and the way he’s grabbing your ass is actually perfect. Even though his tongue explores your mouth with almost desperation, you don’t feel like he rushes anything at all.
“It’s Frank, by the way,” he whispers against your cheek before he starts unzipping your dress.
“What?”
You nervously let the sleeves fall and then step out of your dress. Your underwear doesn’t match and you are not prepared for sex, but he doesn’t seem to mind, staring straight at your bra as if it’s his worst enemy.
“My name, darling.”
“Frank...” You repeat. It fits him, it sounds straightforward.
He smiles widely, bringing his hand to your back to unhook your bra.
“I hope you’ll keep saying my name tonight. You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.”
You can’t even be mad at him for his lie.
“I somehow doubt that, Frank,” you snort, throwing the bra on the floor yourself. You keep your eyes there for a few seconds, not knowing what to do, but you feel his hands on your breasts before you can even say something, squeezing and teasing your nipples.
“You have the most beautiful tits ever. Wanna bury my face in them as I fuck you. Would you let me do that too?”
You can’t help but sigh, bringing your hand to his chin. “You don’t have to lie to me, okay? I actually ask you not to.”
He stops fondling your breasts, and you make eye contact. He seems a little confused and maybe even mad.
“I mean every word I say. I don’t need to lie, do I? You said you’re gonna be my good girl. So I do feel like licking your tits as I fuck you till you scream my name, okay?”
“I never said I wanna be your good girl, did I?” You ask, changing the subject, and bring your hands to his flannel shirt-jacket to remove it.
“No, you’re right. You wanna be my brat.” He bites his bottom lip as you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can, noticing how your fingers tremble. “Have you ever been called a brat before? Did they even notice you are one?”
“Do you always talk about others during sex? That’s a total turn off for me, just so you know.” You pull off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. God, please have mercy! You finally meet his eyes. “And no, I haven’t been called that before. You’re the first one. Does that stroke your ego or,” you pause so you can unzip his jeans. “Should I stroke something else?”
“No need to stroke anything. How about being a good princess and lying on your back so I can get a taste of your pretty pussy, hmm?”
You probably made a face since he brings his lips between your brows, stopping you from frowning with a kiss.
“Princess, really? Did that really get you laid?”
“I thought it turns you off to talk about other people,” he whispers as you lower his jeans and briefs at the same time, trying not to frown again at the thought of what you brought up. You know it’s silly and unfair to wish to be seen as unique, especially in the eyes of a man with experience like Frank, but you can’t control your thoughts.
You shake your head, wanting to snap out of it. One night. You have to stop overthinking for only one night... or, well, until you two finish. “You’re right. Let’s just…”
He steps out of the pool of clothes but doesn’t let you go to the bed or even look down, holding your face so you can meet his eyes.
“I haven’t called anyone princess until now, I swear. And I’ve never been with someone this younger, either.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Frank.” You smile. “I promised to let you fuck me, so...”
“Sweetheart, hey!” His voice is not just soft, but also comforting. You immediately notice his bottom lip between his teeth, though. “Tell me if you changed your mind. Tell me to stop any time. I know you can’t fully believe that, but I promise I’m not lying about anything. I can charm you better with my tongue than with some words I wouldn’t believe in. I found you incredibly hot when I saw you tonight. Checked you out before you came to me, but I realized you’re way too young and you don’t need this shit. I assumed you’re with someone.” His thumb touches your bottom lip, and you whimper.
“Frank...”
“I could come just by looking at your face. Won’t even talk about your tits. Whoever made you feel otherwise is a fucking jackass.”
You don’t know if you should laugh or simply kiss the hell out of him, fighting the urge to apologize, so instead you look down, straight at his cock and gasp. It’s thick and so, so hard. The precome on the head makes you wonder how it’d taste. The slight curve and the visible veins make it look even hotter.
You’re nervous since you did this only two times, so you certainly can’t say you’re an expert.
You gently grab the head of his dick with your right hand, stroking a bit with your thumb. It steals a moan from him instantly, making you feel proud.
After that, you drop to your knees without hesitation, not taking off your hands until you make sure you are close enough. You look up at him just in time to see him pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, shocked.
“I wanna suck your cock so much, but I need some... guidance. I’m not,” you stop shyly for a second to rephrase it. “I want to know how you like it.”
“Jesus, sweetheart, are you trying to kill an old man?”
“Why, do you see one with us in the room?” You take one hand off so you can bring your tongue to the head and get a proper taste.
You feel his fingers flying to your hair instantly, almost pulling, and you keep looking into his eyes.
“S-stop, I told you I want to eat you, now be a good-” he hisses when you take his tip into your mouth, playfully letting your teeth just graze him. You don’t know where this came from, but you just had the urge to do it. “Fucking brat!”
This time he actually pulls your hair a little, making you actually whimper when you lose contact with his cock.
“If you don’t like it, you can, uh, fuck my mouth. I never... But I-”
“Fucking hell,” he groans, leaning it enough so he can grab you by your waist and lift you until he can properly take you in his arms to carry you.
“Just shut up for a sec and listen, okay?”
You roll your eyes, licking your lips. “Or what? Gonna punish me?” You mock him before telling him your name as he drops you on the bed.
“Yes, I’m gonna punish you. Is that your real name?”
You move, supporting yourself on your elbows as he spreads your legs.
“Yes, why? Did you give me a fake name?” You get goosebumps when you feel his hands on the sides of your underwear. And before you can continue to question him, you hear the tearing sound at the same time as you feel the underwear fall on the bed.
What the fuck?
“No, but I never know with a bratty little girl.”
“Little girl? You’ve just ripped my underwear, Frank!”
“You almost bit my cock!”
You roll your eyes. He’s so dramatic.
“If I’d really wanted to bite it, you’d have no cock right now to fuck me with, so...”
He shakes his head, and you almost reach for those strands that fall recklessly on his forehead. He has such pretty hair, you’re jealous.
“God, look at this.” He sounds so fascinated as his fingers find your slit. Your body jolts in surprise when you feel his touch. “So wet.”
He smiles cheekily before bringing his finger to your mouth and pressing it against your bottom lip so you can feel the wetness. Then he kisses you with hunger, licking and biting until you open.
He doesn’t just deepen the kiss, he also moves and drags you with him until you’re on the edge of the bed.
“Thank you for trusting me,” he says suddenly, making you freeze for a couple of seconds. Unexpected.
He starts leaving a trail of kisses on his way down to your pussy: from your chin, to your neck, the valley between your tits, your navel, then right above your entrance.
“I want you not to hold back, okay? If you feel the need to ride my face, please do. If you want me to use my hands or tongue in any way, tell me. Guide me... use me, I’m all yours.”
The way he says the last part makes you whimper. He wants you to use him for your pleasure… and there is something about this that drives you absolutely crazy.
“Yes, Frank.”
He smiles, breathing out right against your entrance, making you shiver before licking. Fuck.
“Good girl.”
Your hips start moving before you realize what you’re doing, and Frank’s nose is brushing your clit, making you whimper. It was only for a second, but he immediately catches the sound.
He stops, and you open your eyes in panic. He told you to do whatever you felt like. There is no way he is mad about this, right?
He looks far from mad or bothered. He looks somehow more turned on than before, and the sound of him licking his fingers makes you shiver in anticipation.
You feel his mouth kissing your clit at the same time he curls a finger inside you. The moan escapes you before you can bite your lip, and you feel his smile between your legs.
You can’t help but rock your hips again, searching for his tongue, wanting to make him fasten the way he fucks you with his finger, but he is no hurry. He wraps his lips around your clit again and sucks slowly while his index finger stays unmoved inside you.
He’s a fucking tease!
Remembering his words from earlier but still hesitatingly, you let your back hit the bed and bring your right hand into his hair, pulling gently to get his attention.
He looks up, not changing anything, and you start stroking his hair. “Gimmie more. And... faster, please.”
You sound shyer than you wanted, but it’s the first time you have any kind of intimacy with this man. And it’s not like you have a lot of experience.
And thankfully, he doesn’t tease you more, getting another finger inside you, and he starts to pump them much faster. The way he sucks on your clit now is a bit different too, and it’s so good. You don’t even realize you’re pulling his hair until you feel his hand over yours, encouraging you to grab it harder.
“Don’t wanna h-hurt you.” It’s so hard to focus. “You have pretty... hair.”
The truth is that he has the prettiest hair you’ve ever seen, but you also never pulled your ex’s hair during sex. Ethan hated his hair being played with when he grew it out, and most of the time you wouldn’t even be able to pull it anyway since it was way too short.
You snap out of your thoughts when you feel Frank’s teeth teasing your clit. You’re extra sensitive.
“F-Frank!”
And it seems like he knows and he’s just messing with you.
This time, you don’t hesitate to move your hips, just not with too much force because you don’t want to suffocate him. But he seems like he does since he moans into your clit and starts basically suckling. You’re losing it. You’re losing it and you can’t even warn him. You’re coming all over his face with a hand in his hair and another grabbing the sheet under you.
He doesn’t stop any of his movements until you open your eyes and let go of his hair. You didn’t even realize how hard you’ve been pulling it, but you don’t feel bad, he seems to enjoy this a lot.
“You taste fucking fantastic.” These are the first words he manages to say between breaths, and in a second he is back on top of you, his lips shining with your wetness. You immediately bring your hand weakly to his chin and stroke his beard, which is also wet.
You shake your head a little, trying not to blush. He wouldn’t say that just for the sake of it... you can’t question it again, and you don’t know how to answer. What can you say? That he has a lovely tongue? So you choose to change the subject.
“Can I return the favor now, Frank?”
He frowns, closing the gap between your faces. “It is not a favor, princess.” And then he kisses you, giving you a taste of your own pussy. He’s not even trying to deepen the kiss, so you open your mouth, letting your tongue taste more of your wetness. His whimper makes you feel victorious, and you use it as an opportunity to explore inside his mouth. You can’t say you taste in a certain way, but at least it is not bad. Frank, on the other hand, has a taste you don’t think you’d ever get tired of.
“See?” He breaks the kiss. “Gonna get me addicted.”
You roll your eyes. “I highly doubt that, now please tell me you have a condom.”
He freezes for a bit, and you almost groan in disappointment, but then he smiles. “Yeah, I think I have one or two. Old habit.”
You don’t say anything about his last remark as you watch him get off the bed and grab his jeans from the floor. You try not to think once again about how this will end soon and you’ll be remembering this night for a long time. And thankfully, he is back with two condoms, smiling as he opens one. He lets the other on the floor and before you can offer to help, he’s already ready.
“How do you want me?”
He looks at you surprised, probably not expecting this question, but you don’t know what he likes.
“Wanna ask you one more time... are you sure you wanna do this? We can stop-”
“I told you I want your cock, Frank. That I want you to fuck me.” You giggle nervously, spreading your legs. He didn’t decide after all. “Now please...”
“Need to fuck this doubt out of you.” He shakes his head as he positions himself between your legs, and before you can answer, he leans in, grabbing a pillow and placing it under your head. “Let’s see how much it takes for you to cry out my name.”
You’re not sure why you feel so nervous. He ate you out, you played a bit with his cock, yet somehow this makes you agitated.
You’re proud of yourself for not closing your eyes even after he enters you. Your body is trapped between his elbows, and you whimper, grabbing his arm to keep some kind of sense of your surroundings.
He’s much thicker than Ethan, and you find yourself trying to spread your legs even further apart, wanting to feel more of him. It’s something thrilling about this discomfort because it makes you crave more.
“You okay?”
“Ihm,” you gasp, trying to find your breath.
“Should I stop?”
“What? Why?”
You realize shortly after he giggles what he actually means, and you look away embarrassed.
“I meant inside you, darling. You’re, uh-”
He forgets what he was gonna say when you raise your hips to get him deeper inside you, and without asking him for permission, you wrap your legs around his ass. You need him all the way in even if it’ll hurt. You want to enjoy this to the fullest... every second of it.
And it’s absolutely a joy to see a man like Frank lose his focus.
“S-so good.”
“God, are you-” He moans when you rock your hips a bit more, trying to get used to the sensation of being so full. “You’re perfect, fuck!”
“I n-need you to move, Frank. Fuck me, okay?” The more you try to fuck him the louder the impact of your bodies gets... from your slickness to his balls hitting your ass.
God, you never wanted to be fucked so hard more than now!
“Please, give it to me, I can... I can handle it.”
It’s like something snaps inside him because in no time you’re getting what you wanted. He’s fucking you and smiling in a way that you can only describe as devlish. It’s sexy, and mocking, and warm at the same time. It makes you lose your mind.
“Look at you, begging to take my cock, beg- fuck! Begging for me to fill this pretty pussy. So wet for me!”
You wrap your legs around his ass even harder, digging your heels a little into his cheeks when he starts pounding you into the bed. You can’t keep down your moans even though you try to. So you bring your palm to your mouth so you can bite it. But Frank doesn’t seem to like it. Not at all... He stops mid-thrust, making you cry, needing more, just to move your hand away from your lips and pin it to the bed.
“Under no circumstances, you’re allowed to do this again.” His tone might be authoritative, but his eyes are soft and warm. You can’t help but bring your other hand to his face to stroke his beard.
“Why not?”
“Be a good girl and don’t play.” He’s not waiting for you to respond, though. He lowers his face a bit more and kisses you, making it impossible for you to breathe as he starts thrusting again as well. The pace is faster, more brutal somehow than before. He swallows a few of your moans as you desperately cling to his shoulders, trying to gain some strength to roll your hips back to meet his. When you do it, he hisses, breaking the kiss just to murmur how wet and tight you are. How good you feel and how he’s never gonna be the same. You can’t focus on anything, especially not on his words. Your eyes are blurry from the tears, and you can’t stop moaning. It’s like you have no control over your body, and for once, it’s not scary.
You lose it, though, when he lowers his hand to your clit and circles it over and over again. It’s like something short-circuits your body. You’re no longer just holding onto his shoulders, either, you’re scratching them without realizing as you come still crying. The way you scream his name, on the other hand, is enough for Frank to come too, thrusting a few more times before falling on top of you; his head right on your breasts as the pleasure takes over his body. You don’t care how heavy he is as you watch him through the fogginess looking so content.
“Was it okay?” You whisper, caressing his scratched shoulder with one hand while stroking the back of his head with the other one. “Sorry for hurting you.”
“Did you just use the word okay to describe what’s just happened?” He raises his head before rolling over so he’d stop crushing you. “This is the best sex I’ve had in my life, Jesus! And hurting me? Please, princess, it was so hot.”
You snort, suddenly more relaxed. He enjoyed it. Probably exaggerating with the best part, but still...
“I guess you have a pain kink, Frank.”
A huge smile spreads on his face as he pulls you to his chest. You don’t care that you’re both sweaty, you want to cuddle with him. You only have a condom left, then you’ll be alone again. And you might never have this crazy sex ever in your life. The thought makes you wanna cry, but you need to focus on the present. He’s still here.
“Should I bring you some water?” You feel his lips on your forehead. “Gonna get you a towel. Want a snack? You’ll need your strength for round two.”
It looks like he’s in no hurry, so you take a deep breath and smile.
“Some water sounds great. I can clean myself though, no need to bother yourself.”
But he’s on his feet before you can even finish speaking.
“You better not move!”
#frank endings beginnings#endings beginnings#endings beginnings frank#frank endings beginnings smut#bucky barnes smut#sebastian stan#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes one shot#marvel#mcu#bucky barnes x reader#frank endings beginnings x reader#endings beginnings frank x reader#fanfic#my stories#my fanfics#frank
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VOICE OF A DEVIL
Continuation of Sylus’s “Melodic Weave” memory
↳GN Reader | ⚠️Spoilers for Melodic Weave⚠️
A/N: This is my first time writing for Sylus and I’m not that confident, apologies in advance
Running into Sylus during your team outing was something you didn’t expect. However, what you least expected was this current moment where he was joining your team’s karaoke session.
It was surprise after surprise as now you were somehow forced to sing a duet with the white haired male. “This is the first time I’m performing a duet with someone. You always let me experience new things.” Sylus’s words caused your coworkers to burst into teasing cheers, sending your heart into overdrive.
The curiosity of his singing got the best of you. His speaking voice was already music to your ears, you wondered just how alluring his deep and smooth voice would sound while singing.
As he lifted the microphone up towards his mouth, you waited with anticipation as his mouth opened to sing, only to be greeted with a sound that quickly shattered the expectation you were fantasizing just a few seconds ago.
The excruciating silence was quickly overtaken by Alex and Lois quickly excusing themselves. Following after, Tara spits out an, “Skye is really interesting…But let’s not ask him to sing again. Bye!” before hurriedly rushing out of the room leaving you alone with the tone deaf man. YOU TRAITORS you mentally cursed.
“They sure left in a hurry, guess it’s just us now huh?” He says while looking down at you with a smirk. “Yeah, I think it’s about time I leave too.” You let out an awkward laugh while getting up. Of course you could never have your way when Sylus is involved, he yanks you back down on the couch.
“Trying to run away, sweetie? I haven’t finished singing yet.” Before everyone left, someone paused the song almost immediately after Sylus started singing, stopping him from singing any further.
“Pfft I’m not running away…I just have some errands I forgot about.” He irked his eyebrow up, not buying the excuse you just came up with. “Fine, continue on.” You sighed in defeat as he unpaused the song.
You convinced yourself that you were going to endure his singing, however as soon as you heard the uncoordinated sounds coming out of his mouth your walls of fortitude came crashing down.
You quickly snatched the microphone out of his hand and tossed it behind you. Unfortunately that didn’t stop the awful noises still coming out of his mouth so you resorted to clamping your hands over his mouth, trying your best to block out furthermore of his voice.
Before you could celebrate your victory, Sylus licked your hand causing you to retract your hands back in shock. “Ew, why’d you do that?” You exclaimed in disgust while wiping your Sylus-infected hand on his shirt to get rid of his saliva. “You started this little game, I was simply just finishing it.” He nonchalantly said with that notorious smirk of his.
Out of nowhere he summoned another microphone, wasting not a single second in continuing on singing. Just how long is his part?! I don’t think my ears can take anymore of this. Desperately trying to save your ears from the torture of Sylus’s vocal abilities you thought of one last idea.
You grabbed his face and slammed your lips onto his. You weren’t taking any more chances at this point, you were gonna shut him up for good. Desperately clinging onto his lips, you brought a hand behind his head, pushing him closer, deepening the kiss.
You can feel the smirk forming on his lips as his mouth moves in sync with yours, his arm finding its way around your waist pulling you much closer. Sylus is quick to bite your lower lip resulting in you parting your lips to give his tongue access into your mouth.
It’s not long before you both part away from each other, panting from the intense lip locking. You looked up, locking your eyes with a pair of crimson eyes dripping with utter amusement.
“Care to explain what that was about?” “Your singing was damaging my ears so I had to shut you up one way or another” you bluntly stated. Sylus couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, “Oh how your words wound me sweetie” he said while feigning hurt. “You know you could’ve just told me the truth instead of resorting to these overly complicated methods of yours” quickly adding, “However, I didn’t mind the make out session.”
You cover your face out of embarrassment while muttering out, “Not another word.” “Make me” he says with that seductive voice of his and you swear this man is going to be the death of you. You were quick to deliver a smack to his arm as he erupts into laughter. Sylus thought you were just too cute to not tease.
#love & deepspace#loveanddeepspace#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace fluff#lads x reader#l&ds x reader#love and deepspace sylus#sylus qin#sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x y/n#yeosatinyngz
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I think you said you were open to requests, so I have an idea. So the slashers absolutely adore Nurse right so what if something happened and, nurse somehow ended up taking care of a teen like this 13 year old is just following them around, how would the slashers all react? Especially if this kid is very protective of nurse
Pennywise & Penny
Pennywise: He’s not the biggest fan of kids, but seeing one so fiercely protective of Nurse might make him pause. He’d be sarcastic about it, probably calling the teen a “mini bodyguard” or throwing out comments like, “You think you can protect them from me ?” He might try to scare the kid just for fun, but would back off if you gave him a look. After all, he respects you too much to push you too far—not that he’d even tell you. But, you should be careful about leaving him with the teen…just saying. Still a cannibal.
Penny: Penny would find the whole situation hilarious. He’d laugh every time the teen tries to step in or “protect” you. Penny might try to poke fun at the kid, but in a less malicious way than Pennywise. He’d probably view the teen as your weird little sidekick and would love the added chaos of this new dynamic.
Penny *giggles* : "Nurse Y/N and Tiny human ! Hello…"
But I repeat. And that goes especially for the clown brothers. NEVER leave them with a child.
Jack Torrance
Jack would find the situation deeply amusing. The teen's protectiveness might remind him of his own paternal instincts—before things went downhill in the Overlook Hotel. He might view the kid as a challenge, saying things like, “You’ve got guts, kid, but you’ll have to do better than that.” Jack would respect your bond with the teen but might still test the kid’s bravery with some unnerving behavior, like his signature wide-eyed, grinning face or random bursts of fury. But if he thinks that the kid is pushing it too far or keeping you away from him ? That’s when things would go south real quick…
Jack *stares at the kid* : "You know, kid. I tried to be nice. I really did. But I really gotta talk to your mommy/daddy and if you keep getting in my way ? Am gonna blow a fuse. And believe me…You won’t like me when I am angry."
Freddy Krueger
Freddy would be relentless. He’d immediately start mocking the kid, calling them “Nurse Y/N’s little guard dog” and making snide remarks. He’s all about exploiting fear, and a kid being so protective of someone like you would be a goldmine for him. However, if the teen was unfazed or even brave in the face of Freddy’s taunts, he’d probably back off, grumbling something about how “kids these days just aren’t as scared anymore.” If you gave Freddy a warning, he'd stop and sulk but still find ways to poke fun at the teen.
Freddy *snickers as he grabs the teen from behind* : "Gotya ! Not so tough when Nurse Y/N ain’t around to protect ya, huh ?"
Michael Myers
Michael wouldn’t react much at all. He’s a silent observer, and the presence of a protective teen wouldn’t change his behavior. However, if the teen tried to physically stop him or get in his way, Michael wouldn’t hesitate to plow right through them. He’s single-minded, so the kid’s protectiveness wouldn’t stop him from going after his target, but your presence could potentially sway him. If you seemed to care about the teen, he might pause or shift focus, but only because of his odd, silent respect for you. He’d even come to respect the kid eventually once he’d understand that they are just as attached to you as the slashers are.
Norman Bates
Norman would be deeply conflicted. The presence of a kid so protective of you would probably awaken his more nurturing side, while also reminding him of his own psychological issues. He’d be anxious and awkward around the teen, especially if the kid’s protectiveness made him feel inferior in your eyes. “Mother” might view the teen as competition for your attention, which could lead to an internal struggle for Norman. He’d be polite to the kid but would probably grow increasingly agitated if the teen got between him and you too often.
Norman *smiles as he sees you and bends forward to tilt your chin up* : "Hello, my little monster. Long time no see…"
Norman feels someone kick his leg and looks down to see the teen—throwing kicks at him.
Teen: "Stay away from my mom/dad !"
Norman *his smile falters and Mommy Bates takes over* : "~Sweet child…Someone ought to teach you manners. My Norman cares about your mom/dad very much and if you keep them apart for too long, I might remind you how we used to teach children in my time…"
Brahms Heelshire
Brahms would be jealous, plain and simple. He’s possessive, and the idea of someone else, even a kid, getting too close to you would trigger his need to control. He’d watch the teen suspiciously, probably from behind walls or through peepholes, just waiting for an excuse to undermine the kid’s protectiveness. If you showed more affection toward the teen than him, Brahms might become passive-aggressive, doing little things to try and regain your attention. He’d likely view the teen as competition for your care and affection.
Brahms and Teen both hugging you : "MINE !"
Jason Voorhees
Jason would be indifferent to the teen's protectiveness at first. Like Michael, he’s relentless and doesn’t let emotions or relationships change his course. The teen’s protectiveness might momentarily confuse Jason, but he wouldn’t stop unless you physically intervened. If you expressed that the kid was important to you, Jason might pause or divert his attention elsewhere, as he tends to have a strange, underlying sense of empathy, especially when it comes to children or those he views as vulnerable. Otherwise, the kid's presence wouldn’t sway him.
However…if he felt that the kid was an obstacle ? Well…
Teen *glaring at Jason* : "Mine."
Jason *glaring back and responding in sign language* : "Mine. First."
#fandoms#imagine#fanfic#pennywise 1990#pennywise 2017#slashers#pennywise x reader#michael myers x reader#freddy krueger x reader#jason voorhees x reader#brahms heelshire x reader#norman bates x reader#jack torrance x reader
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Riders on the Storm
Neil Lewis x Reader
Summary: you decide to pick up a hitchhiker, he gives back a generous payment.
Warnings: car sex, semi-public sex, I misuse the geographic term of badlands(sorry geology lovers), p in v, unprotected sex
Word Count: 2.8k
A/N: don't pick up hitchhikers please, this is fiction, i hope you guys are smart enough to already know this...
Eight hours. That’s how long you’ve been cruising through the badlands of North America. At some point the eyes, after staring at the same scenery for so long, start playing tricks on you. They are small tricks. Inconsequential, even. A ploy to entertain you made by your own brain. Yet, they are just enough to piss you off, drive you a little crazy. You’ll see something flash across the road, a black blob that never existed, maybe a cactus in the distance that when you look away and then back is gone.
That’s what you think Neil is initially, another one of the tricks being played by your mind to fill some space, but he doesn’t disappear when you get closer. In fact, he gets all the more real as you approach. Arm stretched out in front of him, thumbs up, a hitch-hiker, clad in a pair of dusty jeans and a off-white tee, backpack slung over his shoulder. How long has he been out here? How dehydrated is he? Who hitchhikes anymore? You roll down your window and stop your car in front of him.
“Where are you going?” Neil asks, before you can get a word out.
You debate telling him a fake destination, you never know who’s out there after all. There’s a look of loss and sorrow in his eyes that makes you pity him, almost like a kicked puppy. You decide to tell him the truth.
“Vegas.”
“Well, I’m headed down that way too, not as far, I just need you to drop me off in Salt Lake City,” Neil pleads. He’s got these big blue watery eyes. How could you say no? “I’ll pay for gas?”
“Get in,” you sigh out, unlocking your car.
Neil looks enthralled by the news, basically running over to the passengers seat and hopping into the car. You put the car back into drive before speeding off from where you first met and picked up Neil. He introduces himself to you, and out of courtesy you do the same. Soon enough the car settles into an almost awkward silence, quiet beside the car’s radio softly playing music. Neil stares out the window, hugging his backpack to his chest.
“So, why are you going down to Vegas?” Neil asks, breaking the silence.
You jump up a little, thinking that he had fallen asleep.
“Bachelorette party. Why are you going to Salt Lake?” you hum, trying to play your previous surprise off.
“They’re hosting a pokemon tournament down there,” Neil smiles, seeming to find the contrast between your two respective reasons amusing. “Is it your bachelorette party?”
“God, no,” you say, shaking your head.
Neil seems to find your response even more amusing, starting to laugh. His laugh was warm and spread throughout the car, leading you to join him in his fit of amusement.
“What do you even do at a pokemon tournament?” you ask, once you’ve gained more composure.
“Battle it out with cards,” Neil states, only leading to him bursting out in more laughter.
You watch him out of the corner of your eye. The way his eyes crinkle up as he laughs, and how he throws his head back.
“What do you do at a bachelorette party?” Neil retorts, shaking his head trying to stop himself from laughing again.
“Get drunk and, if I’m lucky this weekend, get laid,” you respond, increasing your speed back up to the speed limit.
“Well, it seems we both have equally exciting endeavours this weekend,” Neil says, reaching over to just barely increase the music so that it’s audible as you talk.
“Yours is far more exciting than mine,” you joke, rolling your eyes. “Actually, can I ask what you’re doing hitchhiking down to Salt Lake?”
“Uh- yeah… My car broke down about a mile back from where you picked me up. It was a piece of shit that was already giving up on me before I took it on the interstate. I was like halfway to the city, in the middle of nowhere, when it just started to slow to a stop. I heard some sputtering from the engine and before I know it I’m just stopped on the side of the road,” Neil pouts as he tells you the story, letting out a deep sigh accompanied with the shake of his head when he finishes it up.
“I’m sorry. Do you know how you’re planning on getting home then?” You ask, now genuinely worried about your passenger princess.
“My friends are going to drive me back up, no worries,” Neil offers you a smile, seemingly charmed by your worry of him.
For the next hour, you and Neil let the radio of your car do most of the talking. This time it’s a comfortable silence that settles. The initial fear of him murdering you on this deserted road slipping away as the minutes pass. If he wanted to murder you, he would’ve already!
“Can we pull into the gas station, I’m running low,” it’s not really a question, you’re just telling him why you’re veering off the interstate.
Neil hums out in response, seeming to have fallen asleep, or in an adjacent state, during the hour or two gap of silence. He stretches out, making sure not to inch too much into your own personal space, then rubs at his eyes.
“Sleep well?” you tease, only earning a soft grunt in response.
You pull into one of the pumps, turning off the car and hopping out of your car, towards the pump. Neil follows you slowly. You quirk an eyebrow at the man, but he just ruffles through his backpack. Once he’s pulled out his wallet he locks eyes with you, staring blankly for a few seconds at your confused expression.
“I promise to pay for gas,” Neil deadpans, fishing his credit card out of his wallet.
“I thought you were joking.”
“Why would I be joking about that?” Neil inserts his card into the machine attached to the pump before you can even respond.
“Neil you don’t have to,” you say, tilting your head in pity.
“Well, I don’t know how else I could repay you for a favour this big,” Neil starts to fill up your car.
“I’ll get you snacks, a drink maybe? I can’t let you pay for gas, it’s so expensive,” you're almost whining as you say this, stamping your foot lightly.
“Fine,” is all Neil says in response.
You wait for Neil to finish filling up your car, leaned up against your car, arms crossed. It’s almost embarrassing that you’re just letting some stranger pay for your gas, but you can’t complain about the view he’s giving you. His bicep flexed as he held the oil pump, looking around at the scenery. Back turned to you for a moment, and you can see the bones and muscles of his back move around as he stretches briefly. Then, you get to admire his smile as he puts the pump back and removes his card.
“Do you want to go in now?” you ask, watching as Neil puts his card back into his wallet.
Neil nods, and you lock the car before heading over to the small convenience store attached to the gas pump. You and Neil split up, seeming to have different priorities when it comes to snacks and drinks. Caffeine is what you desperately need to complete the next eight hours of this trip, so you wander over to the energy drink section. You settle on a pacific punch monster, before turning your attention to a snack. Something light perhaps? No, you’re starving. Gas station food is never the best, and you likely wouldn’t have eaten anything here if you noticed earlier. Alas, you were too busy focusing on driving and now you must settle.
It seems that Neil was also relatively hungry, as you found him in the refrigerated food section. A Dr Pepper tucked under one arm, and a bag of puffy cheetos under the other. He gives you a polite smile before going back to browsing.
You decide the best option here is a sandwich, picking it up and then going around to wander until Neil is finally done. Sometime along the way you pick up a sweet treat, and stack that in your small pile of three.
“I think I’m good now,” Neil says, walking over to you with two taquitos now added to his collection.
You insist on paying for both of you at the cash register, much to Neil’s chagrin, and head out to the car. Situating both of your drinks in respective cup holders before heading back onto the interstate. Sandwich you bought is situated in one hand, the steering wheel in your other. The sandwich is truly nothing to write home about but it satisfies your persistent hunger enough. It’s about three fourths of the way through the sandwich that you notice the dark clouds looming ahead of you. You’ve never been a huge fan of driving through storms, but maybe you’ll get lucky and this one will be light. A sprinkle of rain before clearing out for the rest of the trip.
Neil opens up his Dr Pepper, breaking the silence in the car. He utters out a soft sorry before he’s gulping down the drink, washing down the taquitos he just ate.
“Were the taquitos good?” you ask, taking a bite of your own food.
“They’re good for gas station food, never really have to worry about them,” Neil replies, wiping his upper lip off from the Dr Pepper residue.
You him out in response, mouth full of gas station sandwich. There’s now a soft pitter patter of rain hitting the car.
“Hope it doesn’t get any worse,” you pray around the sandwich.
“I mean it looks like it might…” Neil muses, quickly adding on a ‘but I don’t think it will!’ when he notices your eyebrows furrow.
Unfortunately for you, Neil was right. It had gotten so bad that you didn’t feel comfortable driving, pulling over on the side of the road to wait this out. Luckily for you, this gave you time to snack on your little treat. Unluckily, you were now stuck in a car for God knows how long until conditions got better.
Thunder rumbles outside.
“Yknow, because you bought me food, I feel like I didn’t repay you enough,” Neil frowns, stuffing his cheetos into his bag, seemingly not up for them anymore.
Maybe it was the long drive both ahead and behind you, or possibly being stuck in the rain. Could’ve even been the gas station sandwich you had just finished. Yet, for some reason, you replied to Neil’s small statement with:
“I got a way you can repay me.”
Leaning over the centre console, eyes fluttering closed. There's a small pause, and for a moment you feel like Neil’s going to reject you, laugh this weird situation off completely. Then you feel his lips on yours. It takes two seconds before you feel like you two are melding together. Your whole body feels fuzzy and warm, despite the rain pouring outside and the blast of the A/C. Neil breaks away for a second, panting. His pupils are wide, almost engulfing the blue iris of his eyes fully.
“We should move to the back,” Neil suggested, tilting his head towards the backseat.
You climbed over the centre console and into the backseat, Neil following you over as soon as you were seated. Once he too was seated, he placed his hands onto your thighs. Rubbing his hands up and down the exposed skin. He looks at your thighs for a couple seconds before looking back up at you. One of his hands goes up to cup your cheek, bringing you closer to his own face. Softly, a brush against the area, he places a kiss on both corners of your mouth, then kisses you again.
Neil eventually drags you into his lap, or as close as you can get to sitting in his lap while cramped in a car. You sip your tongue into Neil’s mouth as he gives your thigh a squeeze. You moan into his mouth, your own hands navigating their way down his chest and to the hem of his jeans as Neil works up your thighs to the hem of your shorts.
You both hopelessly fumble with the other's pant button and zipper. Now just a mix of soft moans, sweaty hands, and tongue. You’re able to push Neil’s pants down to his knees first, leading you to help him slide your own shorts down. Both of you pull away from the kiss to admire the other, and just as a treat for Neil, you slip your shirt off exposing your lack of a bra. Neil’s eyes widen as he admires your body, stopping himself midway through taking off his pants to do so. You palm at the bulge in his underwear, trying to encourage him to finish taking his pants off. Which is surprisingly successful.
Thunder crashes in the distance.
Neil starts trailing soft kisses down your neck and collarbones as he plays with your breasts, massaging them and tweezing at the nipples. You let moans slip into the air of the car. The windows have started to fog up, giving you slight peace of mind that no one who passes by would likely be able to see either of you. Though, with how hard the rain is coming it would be hard to see anything.
Lightning illuminates behind you.
You move to take your own panties off, hoping it will be enough to get Neil to just fuck you already. Pushing his hands and lips off of you before leaning back into the leather seats of your car before spreading your own lips with your fingers to expose your wet cunt. Locking eyes with Neil. He lets out a sigh, shaky and needy despite the fact that no one is touching him. He stares hungrily at your cunt, licking at his lips.
“Fuck baby,” Neil pants out, slowly taking off his own underwear.
His cock slaps against his stomach once freed. It's thick, not so much long, but very thick. You can’t imagine just how good the stretch is going to be once he's inside of you.
“Go ahead,” you urge, you’re sure you're wet enough that he doesn’t even need to finger you.
“Are you sure?” Neil asks, eyebrows furrowed. His face seems genuinely worried, but the head of his cock is already lined up to your entrance.
You roll your eyes and nod, and not a second goes by before Neil pushes his cock into you. The intrusion alone makes you see white for a few seconds. You let out a small yelp, he’s so thick. He pushes himself to the hilt immediately, letting out a groan as your heat encloses tightly around his cock.
“So tight and wet for me,” Neil moans out, placing a hand on the seat to stabilise.
“You’re so thick,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment desperately trying to adjust to his girth before Neil starts moving.
Neil gives you a couple more seconds before he’s slowly pumping in and out of you, consistently spearing you on his cock. His is definitely the thickest cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of being split on. Devastating to know you didn’t even have to get to Vegas to get the best dick of the week.
Everytime Neil rocks back into you, you let out a small squeal. Somehow each time he comes back into your cunt, he feels almost just as thick as when he first entered you. As he thrusts into you, building a steady pace, you seem to get wetter. Making the task of taking his cock a little easier, but also building a small puddle of your slick onto your leather seats. His cock glides across your sensitive spots each time, before his tip presses into your g-spot.
Neil is panting above you, alternating between closing his eyes in pleasure, staring at his own cock coming in and out of you, or looking at your own expressions of pleasure. Your moans fill up the air in the car as your hands scratch at the seats for purchase.
Neil’s pace starts to increase, soon becoming rapid enough that you bump your head on the door of the car once. You wrap your legs around his hips, head becoming fuzzy as your own high is rapidly approaching.
“Gonna cum, Neil, gonna cum,” you babble out, reaching down a hand to rub at your clit.
“Me too. Pretty girl, where do you want it?” Neil gasps out, placing both hands on your hips forcing you into a position to take him in deeper.
“Tummy,” you groan, feeling your high on your heels.
You cum around Neil’s cock, screaming out his name as you see stars. Neil pulls out of you, disappointing you only slightly. Ropes of cum land on your tits and stomach. Soon enough both of you are coming down from your high, Neil slumping against the door adjacent to you.
That was definitely payment enough.
Taglist: @paradiseprincesss @luluartpop @xanaxiii @galactict3a
#Spotify#neil lewis x y/n#neil lewis x you#neil lewis fanfic#neil lewis smut#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis#watching the detectives#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian fanfic#cillian fic#cillian murphy#cillian x fem!reader#cillian x reader#cillian x y/n#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy x reader#dstryvampres
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Eye on You
“give peace a chance, let the fear you have fall away, i’ve got my eye on you. say yes to heaven, say yes to me.
if you go, I’ll stay.. you come back, I’ll be right here. like a barge at sea, in the storm I stay clear, cause I’ve got my mind on you”
I told you I'd write a drabble but uhhhhh this ain't no drabble- @unhealthy-leon-brainrot
1998.
Leon loved differently back then. He loved in a way a 21 year old man freshly graduated from college could. He was giddy whenever the person in his interest would smile at him, would give him any time of day. His hands would become clammy, and his heart would race as if he were still a teenager. Sometimes, he truly felt like one at heart. That his soul was trapped in that time period, and it wouldn't ever leave.
It's why when he met you for the first time, and when you smiled at him as if nothing could go wrong, his face burned, and his heart almost burst right then and there. You were a brilliant flame, and he felt like a small candle stick awaiting to be lit.
He asked you out in a sputter of words, hating himself immediately after listening to them tumble. Leon didn't want his nervousness to show. He had been practicing for weeks in front of bathroom mirrors and sometimes in the Officer's Academy shower, hoping nobody overheard him. He wanted it to be perfect because that's what you deserved.
You giggled, and somehow, his heart both fluttered and sank. Your eyes glittered with an emotion that made him slightly hopeful. "You want to take me out on a date?"
"Yeah," he replied, all too quickly. "If you'd like to that is--only if you'd like to." He wished he could stop himself from talking, but he couldn't.
You smiled at him, and dammit there went the last of his coherent thoughts. "You know what? Sure. I don't have anything interesting going on." You laughed again, looking away shyly. "I can't say no when you're looking at me like that."
"Like what?" Leon asked, though he fully knew what you were talking about.
"Like I'm the only thing on your mind," you responded. You were fidgeting with your shirt, and Leon wanted nothing more than to grab your hands and hold them.
You weren't incorrect, either. You were on his mind a frightening amount. This affection for you was a buzz in the back of his mind, a throb in his chest.
You still said yes.
"So it's a date?"
"Yes, it's a date."
He swore he grinned from ear to ear, and he saw you return it.
--
The day he was supposed to pick you up, he never did. You were more worried than disappointed. Leon didn't seem like the type of guy you ask you out, gazing at you as if you created the sky and the stars, and then drop you like a hat. Despite the bitter part of you wanting to think he ditched you, the rational part knew better.
He called you hours later, apologetic and broken. "I'm so sorry. Something... something came up."
"Forget the date," you quickly muttered, surprised at how swift the words left your mouth. "Are you okay?"
He was silent for a bit. "Not really."
"Where are you? I'm coming to you."
"No, wait," Leon called your name almost in a plea. "I don't want you to drag yourself into this."
You weren't backing down without a little bit of a fight. "Leon, please."
He paused before stating he was in a hospital outside of Raccoon City.
--
Leon knew he loved you after that. He never admitted to himself until he was sure, but he couldn't prevent that innocent crush from growing into something more powerful.
You became a firework, blazing in his lonely, starless sky. You had always been.
2004.
He liked to believe he still loved the same. Wanted to love the same as he did all those years ago. His heart pounding and his palms becoming clammy, blue eyes full of innocent love.
He knew he didn't.
Leon was reserved now, awkward with his affection, hesitant with his touches yet still craved it. He hated that you had to watch him develop--no, perhaps devolve was the better word here--this trauma response. This training, this work, it all collapsed on top of him, and sometimes he felt as if it would eventually crush him.
Yet, some part of you still saw his old self. That stupid, lovesick boy who craved your attention the way a puppy would a scrap of food. You still gave him love, still kissed his scars, still told him sweet nothings when he broke down crying because the pressure was too much.
He once asked you if you were okay with all of this still, okay with him. You gave him your usual smile, the one that made him weak and touched that lovesick boy deep down. "You're stuck with me, Leon. I gave myself to you the day you asked me out. I'm staying. No matter what happens, I'm here."
He kissed you hard that day. Harder than he ever had. Placing a promise against your lips that he would always come back to you. No matter what.
--
You often wondered what he would do without you. If he would crash and burn the moment you turned around, if the night terrors would claw at his throat and suffocate him.
It was hard, watching him suffer mentally when all you could do was give him words of affirmation. Reassure him that the nightmares weren't real and that you were truly there with him and not bloodied up and dead.
Those moments made the good ones feel like precious gifts. Not just for you, but also for him. You carried them in your heart and held on to those when the bad days would storm over his head.
You remembered one of those good days so clearly, so vividly it never failed to make you smile. One day, while looking over some files, Leon had fallen asleep. His glasses--the ones he usually only used whenever he was reading important work files--were scrunched against his face, pushing up against the bridge of his nose. You remembered walking into his office, snickering a little at the sight. You sighed, shaking your head. "What am I going to do with you?"
You approached him quietly, as if the smallest movement would ruin his peaceful slumber. You grabbed the rims of his glasses carefully, pulling them off his face so he'd be more comfortable. As you did, you caught a feel of his soft locks and couldn't help but lightly smooth between your fingers. You took note of his facial features; his cheekbones were more rigid, and the shadows of his eyes were sunken in. His hair was even a bit darker, looking dirtier blond than it had when you first met. Still handsome, that would never change.
The urge to kiss his forehead had you twitching, but you didn’t want to disturb him. Especially since he had probably been staring at documented words for who knows how long.
You moved to quietly nudge yourself away before his sleepy voice mumbled. "Gonna go so soon?"
You blinked, looking down to see his eyes were now open. Still hazy from his rest. You practically beamed at him. "Didn't wanna wake you."
Leon sat up, stretching a little before putting his glasses back on. "Guess I must've passed out. These reports practically put me to sleep. I can't believe this is part of what they pay me for."
You attempted to catch a glimpse of whatever was on the document, but he placed them flat on the table when he caught you.
Leon snickered. "Classified. Sorry, baby."
You pouted a little. "Can't I help my boyfriend out a little?"
He stood up and stretched more, popping his back. "Not if it means you getting in trouble by seeing the reports. I'd also get in trouble, and we definitely wouldn't want that."
"Man, and here I thought I'd be able to see the famous missions Leon Kennedy goes on," you teased.
Leon just rolled his eyes as if you two had had this discussion before. You have. You just like to see him smile. Distract him as much as you could.
"Become an agent, then we'll talk." He took off his glasses and put them back on his desk. He placed his gaze upon you, and you could feel the adoration in his eyes. He still looked at you as if you had created the sky, the moon, the stars. As if you were his sun and he orbited around you and only you. You would never get over it.
Leon mimicked the action you were doing earlier and parted your hair from your cheeks so he could kiss your forehead.
His work phone rang loud, interrupting the moment. Leon sighed and kissed you quickly against the lips before the obligation to his duty forced him to go answer it.
"Kennedy. Yes, sir."
You observed his body language as he discussed with his superior. His shoulders went rigid, his eyes focused as if he were already on the field. He was prepared for whatever they were about to tell him because he had to be.
He hung up after a minute of giving affirming hums and a variety of yeses. Leon plopped his phone on the documentations and gave you an apologetic look.
"Don't worry about it." You shook your head. You knew what he was about to say. He didn't even need to tell you anything out loud. His eyes told the whole story.
"I really don't deserve you," he mumbled. "Makes me wonder how you do it."
"Because I love you." You said simply. "I'm here to stay, remember?"
--
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