#and in that moment we were all one and the same
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LIST - LANDO NORRIS
summary: Lando and his girlfriend make a list
warnings: smut
Lando and I had a list. It wasn't a normal list like a shopping list. It was a slightly...different list. When we started dating, I wasn't very experienced in sex, so Lando and I made a list of places and things we wanted to do in our most intimate moments.
The beach
It was a very hot evening. Lando wanted to go out for dinner, but I had food ready in the fridge, so we decided to go for a walk along the beach. When we got there, there was no one around. We sat on the sand for a while until he lightly brushed our lips together.
What was supposed to be a kiss turned into something bigger and before we knew it, Lando was on top of me, kissing my neck.
"Are you sure? We don't have to do this now," Lando asks me, pulling away from my neck a little, while I look around to see that the beach is still empty.
"It's okay, it's just us," I whisper and he kisses my neck again, while running his hands up my legs. I quickly slip my hands under his t-shirt and caress his muscles.
He unbuttons my pants and pulls them down with my panties. He removes his T-shirt and I move my hands to his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers.
He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a condom. I smile at him as he puts the latex on his cock.
"Were you expecting that?" He smiles at me too and nods, then places the tip against my clitoris.
"I thought we were going to do this in the car, but I like it better here"
I let out a laugh that is soon replaced by a moan from me and a sigh from Lando when he finally enters me.
He starts with slow thrusts, but when I wrap my legs around his waist, he starts to move faster, making me moan louder. He presses our lips together to muffle our moans. I also wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to bring our bodies closer together, which was almost impossible.
"Baby..."
Lando put his head on my neck and began to leave kisses all over my skin
"Come on baby, I'm almost there too"
I arched my back and felt Lando squeeze my waist when we cum at the same time
Our breathing becomes ragged as he lies against my chest.
"Baby...?"
He lifts his head and smiles, leaving a kiss on my forehead.
"I know, we have to go before someone comes along"
We dressed quickly and held hands, heading for the car to drive home.
One less thing on the list
2. Wearing his shirt
After several races since January, summer vacation has finally arrived. Lando and I decided to go with our friends to the French Islands. It was very hot, so we went to the beach almost every day.
After another day under the sun and being in the water, we head back to the hote. Lando and Max spend some more time in the hotel lobby playing pool, while Pietra and I go to our rooms.
Arriving at my room shared with Lando, I head straight for the bathroom. I take off my clothes and quickly step into the warm water. I take a quick shower and when I get out of the bathroom, I head for my suitcase. I try to find a baggy t-shirt, but when I don't, I go to Lando's bag, grabbing a McLaren t-shirt with Lando's name and number on the back. I take my book and go out onto the balcony, sitting down on the small bench there.
A few minutes later, I hear the door open and suddenly I hear Lando's voice
"Fuck's sake, God damn it"
I take my eyes off my book and look back, seeing Lando standing in the middle of the hotel room
"What? What's wrong? What happened?"
He slowly approaches me, looking at my body
"My shirt... on you. You're so fucking hot"
I let out a laugh and stand up, putting my book down on the table.
"Really? I didn't know you liked seeing me in your t-shirt." I move closer to him, when I get close he pulls me by the waist.
"Fuck I'm going to fuck you like this" He pushes me to the wall and attacks my neck.
I let out several moans and close my eyes, knowing that his lips would leave a mark for tomorrow. He moves his hands down to my thighs and pulls me up, making me jump and wrap my legs around his waist.
I press our lips together and he brings one of his hands between my legs. He pulls my shorts and panties aside and slips a finger inside me. I lean my head against the wall and move my waist slightly against his finger.
He adds another finger and I let out more moans. I wrap my arms around Lando's neck to hold myself up. Lando takes advantage and removes his fingers from me and pulls his cock out of his pants. He starts spreading pre-cum all over his erection.
In one swift movement he puts me down again and slaps my ass.
"Turn to the wall and wait"
I turn with my back to the wall and lean my forehead against it. I hear Lando opening something and then coming closer. I look over and see him putting the condom on
"I'm going to start taking the pill," I whisper as he gets closer, pressing the tip of his cock into my clitoris.
"I think that's a good idea," Lando smiles and soon he's inside me. I let out a loud sigh and push my ass up, resting my hands on the wall
"Shit, my name looks so good on your back" I continue to moan and sigh, along with Lando.
I feel his hands go up my back and Lando grabs my hair, then pulls lightly. He brings his mouth close to my neck and begins to leave kisses and marks all over my neck and back of my neck, while he increases his thrusts
I bite my lip as I feel my orgasm hit and wash over my body. Lando lets out an even louder moan and with one last thrust he buries himself in me, cumming hard.
He pulls out of me and turns me towards him. We go to bed and he lays me down, then walks to the bathroom and takes a damp towel and runs it over my hot body.
He lies down next to me and I rest my head on his chest, feeling his heart beat faster as I get closer
3. Dressing room
After a horrible free practice, where Lando ran into the barriers, he passes everyone in the pit box, completely angry. I follow him into his room and knock on the door.
"Baby, it's me. Can I come in?"
I hear some grumbling and something fall to the floor.
"Sure"
I slowly open the door and see his helmet on the floor next to the small bed he had in his room. I see him unzip his racing suit and sit down on the bed.
"I just screw up," Lando whispers with his head between his hands. I walk over and sit down next to him. I take his hands away from his face and smile slightly
"No, you don't. They said it was the car's problem, not yours. You couldn't have done anything." I caressed his hand as he looked down at the ground.
"If I hadn't braked so much on lap 16..." I touch his face with my hand and nod.
"No. You can't blame yourself for something that wasn't your fault. And it was only practice. The engineers will see what happened and improve the car so you're ready for qualifying and the race."
He turns his face to me and smiles slightly
"Thank you, love. That made me feel a little better" He whispers and I move closer, leaning our foreheads together
"I know how to make you even better"
I bring our lips together and place my hands on Lando's chest, slowly pushing him to lie down on the small bed. I pull down his suit and the rest of his clothes, watching his cock bounce against his abdomen. When I get up to get the condoms from his backpack, Lando lifts his body and looks at me.
"Take your clothes off too. I like to see your breasts swaying as you ride me."
I feel my cheeks redden a little, but I nod. I hand Lando the condom and start to take off all my clothes. When I'm naked, I see Lando smiling mischievously at me. I walk over to him and sit on his lap.
"We can scratch the idea of having sex in your dressing room too," I whisper and raise my waist, then sit down on Lando.
"Yes, babygirl" he mumbles against my lips and I continue to sit on Lando, making my breasts bounce against his chest.
He holds one of my breasts and kisses down to the other. I let out more moans and grab Lando's hair, pulling on it. He switches breasts, giving the same attention to the other and I let out louder moans and sighs.
With a few more sits, I feel the knot in my stomach explode. Lando holds my waist and raises his head, looking at me. He gives a few sloppy thrusts and cums inside the condom.
I rest my head on Lando's shoulder, taking a deep breath. A few minutes later, we hear a noise at the door.
"Lando, we're waiting for you for the interviews." Oscar's voice echoes in Lando's room and I let out a low laugh.
"Yes, I'll be right there. One moment"
I lie down on the bed and stare at Lando as he gets dressed. He looks at me and before he leaves, he leaves a kiss on my forehead.
"Stay here until I get back. I won't be long"
One less thing on the list.
#lando norris smut#lando norris#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris x reader#lando x y/n#lando x you#smut
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I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE part 2 (s.jy)
pairing: rich boy!jake x reader (f)
summary: after jake’s betrayal, you tried try pick up the pieces of your broken heart by replacing him with heeseung, even if they never truly fitted back together— not until your realised jake’s heart was in worse shape.
warnings: sexual tension, angst, hurt/comfort, making out, kissing, smut (blowjob, missionary, doggy, riding, creampie, hair pulling, chocking), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!) fighting, alcohol consumption, usage of weed, curse words, pet names (baby, ma cherie), hyung line (minus jake) are actually a conspiracy for jakeyn. Imk if more. PROOFREAD → READ PART 1
published: 13th May 2024
wc: 6.8k
taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns @seunghancore (one shot) @anittamaxwynn @jvjsssnaa @slut4hee @kgneptun @nyxtwixx @laurradoesloveu @star4rin @capri-cuntz @eneyiri @samouryed @heyniki @ineedsomezzz @nanamomgmong @aishigrey @naurrjakeu @ak-aaa-li @sjakewrld @nikiswifiee @koralira-kira @daisycottage @yunhoswrldddd @smisworld @cloud-lyy @avaleyshin @soobinbunnie5 @ikeulims @tuituibzhe @starggukies @icywinter1999 [BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED]
a/n: aight this actually turned out longer than i intended and did i really write smut while listening to windows down by big time rush? yes. having a keylock doesn’t mean you’re poor btw (i also have a keylock). please REBLOG & LIKE to share! also lmk your thoughts by commenting 🎀 tysm for loving this fic!
You stared yet again at the reflection in front of you. Tear stains had ruined your makeup, your mascara that claimed to be waterproof was now coating your cheeks until your chin.
You gripped the sink in anger, your knuckles turning white at the force.
A lot of curse words flashed in your mind, but none were strong enough to represent your current state.
How could you be so oblivious? You thought Jake and you had something, something that went beyond just two people who met at a frat party.
You felt it, inside your heart, the way it tickled every time you heard his sweet chuckle leave his lips, seeming like the only light in the darkness of life.
You took a deep breath, trying to gather all the shattered pieces of your heart, laying open there. If that was how it hurt, you sure as hell weren’t going to give anyone else the key to access to it.
“What’s a pretty girl crying in the bathroom for?” A voice snapped you out of your trance. You raised your face and met a pair of known, dark eyes.
“Heeseung.” You breathed out, not even bothering to turn around. That moment almost felt like a deja vù, probably because that same bathroom was where your lips first met Jake’s.
Trying to block out all the memories of that Australian man, you turned around and leaned back on the countertop.
“Glad you still remember my name.” He said, licking his bottom lip, “Found out your prince charming wasn’t as innocent as you thought?”
You frowned at his words “How’d you know?” And Heeseung just chuckled bitterly in response “I invited you to my party in hope of having you for myself.”
His eyes roamed all over your body “Just to find out you were at it with my best friend.” You rolled your eyes. “We just made out, nothing more.”
If you thought Jake was bold, Heeseung was shameless. He was looking at you like you were a gazelle in the lion’s den, eyes scanning your body, probably imagining you without clothes.
“Well, he’s busy now.” You turned around and looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to clean the mascara stains on your face.
“With Karina?” Heeseung nodded at himself, “She was there before you.”
You turned around again, a deeply offended expression painting your features “Excuse me?”
Heeseung smirked, cleaning your cheeks with his own thumbs “You really thought Sim Jake would fall in love with a mediocre girl?” He cooed “Aw, poor you. Jake had always been greedy, he would never settle for someone who isn’t from his own neighbourhood.”
“And why are you telling me this?” You asked warily, not fully believing the words leaving his mouth. You wanted to stay with your impression of the kind and playful Jake. Not the player, not the heartbreaker.
“Because he isn’t worth your tears, pretty.” Heeseung’s voice was husky and hoarse, you couldn’t almost understand his words “But I am, when I’ll fuck you so hard.”
You pushed his chest away, “Disgusting.” But Heeseung only laughed in response, “I was kidding.”
You rolled your eyes and stepped aside of him “I’m going home.” You were almost out of the door when his big hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush on his chest.
“Or, I have a better idea.” You raised a brow. “You don’t look like someone who has nice ideas.”
“Just trust me.” He wiggled his brows “I know you’re known for seducing and then leaving.”
You scowled “If that’s my reputation on your side of the town.” His fingers trailed your arm until they reached your shoulder, caressing the bare skin “In my opinion, that’s hot.”
“I don’t remember asking.” You sighed, having heard his flattering already when he was courting you, a couple of weeks before.
“I’m saying, we go downstairs.” Heeseung bit his bottom lip, playing with the strap of your dress. “And we get a taste of each other, just let your mind drift off.” He said, lowering down to whisper in your ear.
You honestly weren’t in the mood to make out with someone, let alone be in a room full of teenagers drunk off their tits— But what could you do better to fix your broken heart?
“I hope you improved your kissing skills.”
𓆩♡𓆪
If stares could kill, then the ones Jake was giving you as you basically straddled Heeseung in the middle of his living room got you dead a few minutes before.
Your lips were attached, rarely pulling away, just enough to catch your breath while his hands were wrapped around your waist, holding you in place on his laps.
Jake was still with that pretty woman whose name you learnt was Karina. And in fact, she was deadly gorgeous, you almost didn’t blame Jake for leaving you for her. But you were Y/N, nobody should’ve dared to play with your heart that same cruel way Jake did.
“You don’t mind making out with me in front of him?” You asked on Heeseung’s lips, licking his bottom one “Nah,” He cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer “You weren’t a thing anyways, were you?”
Your heart stopped at his words, because in fact, you and Jake weren’t anything. You had never been, it was foolish of you to even hope for it.
“No, we weren’t.” You replied in a whisper, “Perfect.” Heeseung resumed kissing you, more roughly this time.
Jake needed something stronger than the mild cup of beer in his hand to forget your presence in the room. Smashing his head on the wall seemed like a good option since not only did you attend the party but were also making out with his best friend.
He called it on himself, he knew nothing good would come with playing with you, but he couldn’t erase all that he had done.
Trying to cancel the image of Heeseung with his hands all over you, he turned to the side to give his attention to the raven haired girl beside him “So, when’s your brother coming home from Paris again?”
Karina smiled at the mention “Sunghoon is coming back in two days!” She informed him, “He also wanted to invite you guys over.”
Jake beamed back at his other best friend’s older sister and nodded “That sounds good, I haven’t seen him in one month or so.”
Karina rolled her eyes “Yeah, I came back as soon as work finished but he claimed he wanted to ‘sightsee’ the city before returning here.”
He smiled “Living his best life, I see.” He patted her shoulder, the touch on her exposed skin only made him remember how your body felt when it was wrapped around his, kissing you all over.
He hoped he could have done more, to be with you longer so that he would have experienced having you laid down beneath him, in your whole essence and beauty. He wished he had a chance to do that— But the universe wasn’t on his side.
You hadn’t realised how much fun those rich kids could have. You thought they talked about horses and lake cottages in their free time but they actually were so much more than that!
Or maybe it was whatever Heeseung made you smoke that was altering your thoughts.
You were currently sitting on his laps, your back pressed against his chest as you took a drag out of the joint between your fingers.
You giggled at something one of Heeseung’s friends said, you weren't even sure why you were laughing but it sounded fun.
Heeseung caressed your back, trailing circles on your shoulder as he took a drag from his own joint “Having fun, Y/N?” He asked and you nodded “Much.”
“Mhmh, I bet you are.” He smirked, “First time smoking weed?”
You nodded again “Jake said I looked like I did it daily,” You chuckled “But I never tried.”
“Did he?” He whispered, getting close to your neck, leaving kitten licks “You talk a lot about him.”
“No.” You frowned “I don’t.” Heeseung chuckled and started sucking on your sensitive skin, making you let out a moan.
His big hand went to cover your mouth as he worked on your neck, sucking and biting enough to leave a hickey “You talked about him the whole night, haven't you even realised?”
You widened your eyes at his statement. No, you hadn’t realised, but when his name rolled out of your tongue it just sounded so right.
You just shook your head, unable to reply verbally since his hand was on your lips.
You closed your eyes, trying to block out any thought at the feeling of Heeseung’s lips on your neck and the weed clouding your mind.
“Are you mad?” A strict voice suddenly snapped you out of your state of trance as you felt yourself being ripped away from Heeseung’s grasp.
You opened your eyes just to find a very rather and deeply angry Jake standing in front of you, if he was in a cartoon you’d see his veins pulsing on his forehead.
“He’s Jake!” You exclaimed happily to Heeseung, the effect of the amount of alcohol you drank and the intoxication from weed made you act hyper “I know.” Heeseung replied calmly.
Jake pulled you behind his back “What were you thinking? Making her smoke this shit?”
You frowned “It’s good—“ But Heeseung cut you “Relax man, we were just having fun.”
“This is not having fun.” He took the joint from your hand and threw it to Heeseung “Don’t get her into your addictions.”
Heeseung raised a brow, his expression remaining stoic “She was willing.” Jake snapped back “She’s drunk!”
He took a deep breath and pointed a threatening finger toward Heeseung “Do not pull this ever again.” He stated before taking your hand in his and dragging you out of the party.
Meanwhile, Heeseung smirked as he saw the two of you walk away; Maybe that was when his best friend would finally wake up and realise all the things he was losing.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Hey!” You exclaimed, trying to pull away from his iron grip “Yunjin is still inside.” Jake let out a small groan “I’ll drive her home later.”
You pulled hard on his hand, making him stop right in front of his crimson car “Let me go.”
Jake’s eyes were full of rage, you were almost scared at their intensity “Are you angry?”
“Yes.” He stated, voice serious “At me?” You asked, your voice was so soft and quiet it made his heart jump out of his ribcage “No, not at you.”
Your eyes were red and bloodshot, your breath heavy “How many did you smoke?” He asked, trying to contain his tone.
You gulped down, lowering your gaze “Two.” Jake nodded and opened the door of his car, letting you in.
“I’m going to kill Heeseung somedays.” He mumbled, walking to the other side and entering the driver seat.
He started the engine and drove in silence, the late hours of the night not as lively as they usually were.
When you reached a stoplight, Jake opened a small bottle of water he had in his car and handed it to you “Drink, I want it all finished before we reach your house.”
You raised a brow, your mind was already puzzled and his actions only added to your confusion “Why?”
“Just listen to me.” He dismissed your question and started driving again while you drank small sips from the bottle.
You soon reached your house, this time Jake parked his car unauthorisedly in front of it, exiting the car to open the door for you.
You looked up at him, your vulnerable state making him want to protect you even more. Damn Heeseung.
“I couldn’t finish it all…” You murmured, showing him only the half-empty bottle of water.
His eyes softened. “That’s ok, at least you drank some.” You smiled up at him and stumbled a little as you tried to reach your house door.
Jake helped you, holding you up with his arms under your armpits “Shoot, Y/N. Why did you drink so much?” He let out a huff, as he was basically supporting all your weight.
You leaned on the wall and handed Jake your purse, not really in the state to open the door.
“What’s the code?” He asked and looked at your door, just to realise there was no code to access inside it, your door still needed a key to be opened.
His stomach dropped, another mental check of how different your lives were “Inside the purse.” You murmured.
Jake nodded and opened your purse, taking out the keys and opening the door, holding it open.
“You’re mad at me?” You asked again, your eyes half-lidded and you could barely hold yourself up— yet you were ever so pretty.
The moonlight shone on you, lighting up your skin, your hair falling down your face, messy but gorgeous. So dishevelled but so pretty.
“No, Y/N. I’m not mad at you.” He repeated, his tone sincere “Then… Then why you ignored me?” You asked, the pout on your lips only making him want to bite on them.
He gave you the purse back and pushed you a little so that you walked in “Go straight to bed, don’t wake your parents up. You don’t want them to see you like this.”
You nodded obediently and Jake caressed your cheek with his thumb before turning around. He stopped right in front of your door and smiled “I’m doing this for you, ma chérie.” And then closed the door.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Hey man,” Jake greeted Sunghoon as he entered his house, giving him a high five, “Good to see you again.”
“Yeah, glad to see you too.” Sunghoon nodded and closed the door behind his back.
“Am I the last one?” Jake asked, walking to the couch and sitting on it, bouncing a couple of times.
“No,” A wild Jay appeared from the kitchen where he was cooking something for dinner, already busy since late afternoon. “Heeseung texted he’d be late.”
“As always.” Sunghoon rolled his eyes and sat down beside him “I swear, he never changes.”
“Jay told me you will take over your father’s company,” Sunghoon smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes “Congratulations.”
“Yeah.” Jake laughed “Thanks.” Awkward silent filled the room, the only sound being Jay’s pots as he cooked. Sunghoon eyed him up and down, leaning back on the couch and resting his head on his hand “Hadn’t you rebelled to your parents?”
“Rumours fly.” He smiled forcefully “It was just a silly thing. I actually realised I should make them proud after eveything they did for me.”
“And what exactly did they do for you, Jake?” Sunghoon’s voice was low, his gaze piercing.
Jake just cleared his throat and changed the topic “So, how was Paris?” He asked “I know you booked a hotel near the Eiffel Tower. Bet it was awesome.”
Sunghoon tsked “Indeed. I’ll show you the picture if you want.” Jake answered positively when the doorbell rang.
“You get the door, it must be Heeseung.” Sunghoon got up from the sofa and patted his pockets “I’ll search for my phone.”
Jake got up as well and walked to the door, the doorbell rang again and he sighed “Yeah, coming.” He opened it and widened his eyes when he saw another familiar figure beside Heeseung.
He took in the sight of you, wearing comfortable clothes, looking ever so dreamy.
His gaze fixed on the hickey Heeseung made you a couple of days before, now all dark and purplish. He gulped “What is she doing here?”
“I invited her.” Heeseung shrugged, stepping aside Jake and walking inside the house.
You were left with him, staring at each other’s faces, acting as if both of your hearts weren’t pounding “How’s the after effect?”
There was no context but you knew what he meant “Good, I’m a big woman. No joint can kill me.” You replied, walking beside him when no more words were exchanged. Truth to be told the next day you woke up with a throbbing headache, regretting all of your life choices— though the biggest one was the hickey on your neck.
“I thought you didn’t want to hang out on this side of the town.” Jake spoke, his tone sounding mocking. You scowled “Maybe I changed my mind.” You walked faster toward the kitchen where everyone was gathered.
You got to know Jake’s friend group. Aside from Heeseung and him, you had only seen Jay at the last party. You later found out Sunghoon was on a business trip in Paris which was why you hadn’t seen him before, but even if you did he wasn’t the happiest about your presence, so you thought you wouldn’t have been friends.
Jay, on the other end, was sophisticated and kind, the two of them looking ever so the stereotype of rich kids.
Heeseung and Jake were rather normal, they could’ve passed as the kids from your neighbourhood if you didn't know their true identities.
“I brought some snacks.” Sunghoon announced, placing a sachet on the table. He took out all kinds of sweet things, but your eyes lit up at the sight of macaroons.
You had only seen their pictures and let your mind wander at what their taste would be like, but now they were in front of you, so you reached your hand and took one.
“You like ‘em?” Heeseung asked, taking the chocolate flavoured one and eating it “I’ve never tried them.” The whole table fell silent, all the boys stopping in their tracks.
“Never?” Jay questioned and you shook your head “That’s a bummer though, I only bought four for the four of us.” Sunghoon was about to take the vanilla flavoured macaroon out of your hand when Jake slapped it away.
“I don’t like them anyways, she can have mine.” Jay frowned at his friend’s words “You love macar—“ He was shushed by a biscuit placed in his mouth by Jake “I don’t like them.” He repeated.
You bit on the small treat and your eyes formed hearts “It’s so good!” You said, munching on it. And you didn’t know it, but Jake’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of you so happy.
You continued to spend time with them, playfully beefing with Sunghoon as if you weren’t an intruder in his house until they decided to go in the free time room to play billiard.
“But I don’t know how to play billiards.” You pouted, watching all the men gather around the pool table.
“That’s ok, you can just watch.” Sunghoon dismissed you quickly, placing himself in front of you to posionate the balls inside the triangle.
You just scoffed and sat on the kitchen counter, crossing your arms on your chest.
You watched the game develop in front of your eyes, never truly understanding its rules. They were too useless and complicated and you stopped paying attention in the middle.
After what seemed like forever, where you had the time to walk around Sunghoon’s big house three times and even have a chat with his maids — cause apparently, rich kids could even afford maidens — you entered the kitchen again just to see it was empty.
You looked around, checking if anyone was there before following Sunghoon’s previous actions, placing the balls in the triangle to align them.
You didn’t know what they found interesting in billiards, and trying to understand it wasn’t going to get you killed.
You took the cue stick and positioned yourself, copying the boys’ postures.
Something must’ve gone wrong, though, because as you pushed the cue you embarrassingly missed it.
“You are too far with your back.” The same voice that haunted your dreams spoke from behind you, making you flinch.
“Chill, it’s just me.” Jake stated, munching on some chips “Heeseung wondered if you wanted something to eat.”
You smirked, leaning on the table “Heeseung or you?” Jake rolled his eyes but didn’t deny your questioning.
He gulped down his food and stared at you “You want to play pool?”
“I already said I don’t know how to do that.” You repeated, glancing back at the untouched balls “I don’t even understand the rules.”
“Here.” Jake’s accent tickled your ears as he made you turn around with his hands on your hips “Bend just a little.” You didn’t know if his voice was really that low or if he was doing it just to tease you— Whatever was his plan, you were down for it.
“Mh? Like this?” You said with your most innocent voice, bending slightly more on the table, just enough to make your ass touch his front hips.
He let out a faint groan “Yeah.” He tried not to show the effect you had on him and trailed his fingers along your arms until he reached the cue stick in your hands. Goosebumps formed on your skin at the contact.
“Then?” You asked, eager for him to touch you. “Then you place the cue like this.” He shifted your fingers so you could grip it the right way and turned his face, you could feel his breath on your skin and the tip of his nose poking your cheek.
There was also something else poking your ass cheeks, which was why you started moving, briefly. Just to tease him.
“Take the aim.” The combination of his voice and the proximity of your bodies made your mind hazy, making it hard for you to concentrate.
You just let him guide you “And… Shoot.” You pushed the cue between your fingers and finally, all the balls moved around the green table.
One went into the hole and you jumped happily “I did it!” You exclaimed, laughing “You saw?” You asked, turning around.
Jake was staring at you with ever so deep eyes, full of emotions you didn’t quite get but felt inside of you as well “I always see you.”
𓆩♡𓆪
You weren’t sure why Heeseung invited you to yet another party, or the reason as to why you seemed to be the only girl at a boys hang out, but you weren’t going to complain.
The hotel you guys were staying in was huge, apparently it belonged to Heeseung’s parents and you could have it all for yourself the whole night.
Wearing the best dress you owned you presented yourself at the location beside the raven haired man.
You greeted his friends group and noticed there were many other people, unlike you thought, all partying and dancing together.
It was very different from the ones he usually threw at his house, this one was huge and packed, there was almost no space to go through the crowd.
“And you said I couldn’t bring Yunjin along.” You side eyed Heeseung, earning a shrug. “One girl from the other side is already enough.”
You slapped lightly on his shoulder “Rude.” Heeseung laughed and pushed your back a little. “Go have fun, I have guests to greet.”
Feeling like a mouse surrounded by cats, you made your way through the crowd, trying to ignore the thirsty stares you were receiving. Since that fateful night where you willingly let your heart out for Jake you had become more careful with your possible make outs.
As you turned your face to look at the big pool where people were swimming, you accidentally bumped someone's chest, which made you stumble backwards.
“Sorry,” You murmured, about to walk away when a hand came around your wrist. It wasn’t Jake’s, the one you were used to, it was much rougher and tighter.
You glanced up just to notice a tall guy, probably high judging from his bloodshot eyes and twitching nose. Holy Moly.
That guy lowered to match your height, his hot and smelly breath made your nose scrunch in disgust “Hey, gorgeous.”
Your whole body froze and your heart stopped beating for a few seconds “Uh… Hi.” You laughed awkwardly, trying to remove your hand from his grip.
“You bumped me by mistake?” He asked, getting dangerously close “Or did you want my attention. You didn’t have to pull that act, my attention is all yours now.” His words were so slurred you could barely understand them.
“Actually, it was a mistake.” You said and again tried to pull away from him, but the more you tried the more he got closer.
“Don’t lie.” He whispered and wrapped one arm around your waist. You were trapped, your breath hitching.
“I truly am not.” You pushed his chest away, resulting in him only tightening his grip “Come on… Let’s have fun.”
“She said it was a mistake.” A familiar voice with a thick accent, thicker than usual, commented, placing one hand on the guy’s shoulder.
The guy groaned and raised himself in all his height, turning around in slow motion — or maybe it was just your panicked vision playing tricks — toward Jake.
He stood in front of him, unfazed by how big and tall that guy was as he stared at him with a dark gaze.
“And who are you to interrupt us?” The guy asked, his voice too low for your own likings “Her guy.” Jake said as if it was the most obvious answer, raising a brow.
“So, I suggest you walk the fuck away before I throw one punch on your nose and break it.” You had never seen Jake angry, you had a few fantasies about it, but you would’ve never imagined him being so scary (and hot).
His whole aura was inky, arms crossed on his chest, showing his excessively veiny arms.
That guy was surely drunk but not enough to risk his own life. He raised his hands in a submissive manner and nodded “Alright, sorry man.” Jake tilted his head “It’s not me you have to apologise to.”
He took a moment to comprehend his words “Oh.” He then turned to you and scratched the back of his neck “I’m sorry.” He didn’t wait for your reply and just walked away.
Your eyes then met Jake’s, filled with wrath “I—“ You said but were met by his hand around your wrist, this time your body not repulsing it as that guy’s and he dragged you inside the hotel.
“Jake, let go.” You tried to fight him but he was stronger, dragging you through the corridors until he reached what would’ve been a storage room, full of pillows and sheets supplies “Let go, it hurts.”
Jake loosened his grip “You really have trouble written on your forehead.” He snapped, his breath heavy as he paced around the room “I can’t look away from you that you’re getting yourself into something bad.”
You frowned at his harsh words “That’s not true.” Jake scowled “Is it not? You either get high or almost—“ He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence.
“Why do you even care anyways?” You said back, brows knitted “You’re the one who used me.”
Jake stopped in his tracks “Used you?” He got closer to you.
“Yes,” You stepped forward as well. “You just used me, made me think you actually cared about me just to rebel against your parents.”
You gulped, your heart breaking again at the memory “Next thing I know, you’re ignoring me and smiling at a pretty girl.”
“Did you fuck her, Jake?” He was taken aback from your words, placing his hands on your shoulders. You shrugged him off, he still remained in your proximity without touching you.
“I think I lost something here, who was I smiling at?” You clicked your tongue, your hands on your waist as you got frustrated.
“That girl, last Saturday.” You explained “Dark hair, killer body, tall… Come on Jake, just admit it you wanted someone to fuck but I didn’t and so you went with someone else.”
“That’s really not what I did. I would never.” He blinked faintly “That girl, she’s Karina, Sunghoon’s sister.” He then added “I don’t like her, not that way.”
You wanted to scowl at him, but his tone was so serious you found yourself asking “..What?”
“You’re not the problem, Y/N.” Jake said, sighing “It’s me, it’s all my fault.”
You shook your head, confused. “What— Jake, I don’t understand.”
“I shouldn’t have asked you to help me.” He backed up until his back hit the wall, running a frustrated hand in his hair “I exposed you to my parents— I—“
You moved to him, taking his face in your hand “Stop mumbling.” You ordered “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”
Despite the way he treated you in the past week, your touch was still gentle and you worried about him. A spark of hope lit his heart up.
Jake nodded and took a deep breath “My parents… they said that if I didn’t break up with you they’d make yours lose their job. You’d lose your house… I couldn’t do that, Y/N.”
He seemed as if he was slowly loosing his mind. You took in the sight of him, dark circles under his eyes, he looked paler wearing that white shirt. Just what on earth had he been doing?
“They’re powerful, with the amount of money they have they can easily buy your whole neighbourhood and evict you.” He gulped down “So I am preparing to take over the company, to make them happy.”
Your eyes widened at his words, “They threatened you?” You asked, removing your hands from his cheeks to stand properly.
Jake shrugged, “We weren’t together so technically I couldn’t break up with you, but I could stay away if it meant you’d be safe.” He sighed softly, “I told you I’m a bad bet since the first time we met.”
“No,” You shook your head “You aren’t bad, your parents are.”
He scoffed, “And I’m just like them.”
You fisted the collar of his shirt and brought his lips down to yours. He was shocked by your sudden action but he relaxed soon and closed his eyes, kissing you back.
“Say that again and your face will meet my fist.” You breathed out as you pulled away “You don’t get how brave you are? You were about to sacrifice your happiness to save my family… someone you met at a party.”
“You’re not just someone I met at a party.” Jake whispered “In just a couple of days you made my whole life better, you made me realise there’s so much more than what I was used to.”
He placed one hand in your hair, caressing your scalp “I never meant to hurt you, baby.”
Your heart jumped as you heard his whisper, the pet name making your head spin “Later, I want you to explain everything to me everything.” You demanded.
Jake nodded “Everything you want, queen.” Your breath quickened “But for now…” You trailed off and connected your lips again.
You kissed him, roughly and he did it back with the same intensity, having missed the taste of you, the scent of your perfume invading his nostrils, clouding his mind.
“Let me take you home,” He murmured between kisses “In your bedroom.”
You shook your head, stumbling backward and bringing him with you “Can’t wait.”
“You sure about this?” He asked as you got out of the storage room, bodies still tangled “I could be bad, worse than you think.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down on you “Then, I wanna find out.”
Jake let out a small groan and resumed kissing you, blindly reaching a doorknob and praying nobody was inside.
He dragged you in and locked the door behind your backs.
Jake pushed you against the wall as he undid the buttons of his shirt while you unbuckled his belt, your lips never leaving each other.
He discarded his shirt and helped you unzip his jeans, throwing all of them somewhere on the floor.
He then removed the straps of your dress, slowly kissing all the way down your neck to your almost exposed chest. He pulled away, enough to look at the now barely-visible hickey Heeseung did.
Jake let out a deep groan “You don’t know how much this drove me insane.” He commented, trailing his thumb over it
“Yeah?” You asked “Were you jealous?”
“I wanted to rip his head off.” He said, kissing you again “Wanted to cover your whole body with hickeys and my marks, just to let him know who you belong to.”
You nodded, “Do it,” You breathed out “Make me yours, Jake.”
He unconsciously bucked his hips to meet yours, his clothed bulge poking your pussy “Fuck baby, you can’t tell me that.” He whispered, attaching his lips on your neck again.
Jake lowered the dress until it rested on your hips, palming your breasts, growling at the feeling.
You gasped when his lips engulfed your nipple, twirling his tongue round it. Your hand went to grasp his hair while the other slowly lowered his boxers until his painful erection was free.
Jake helped you out of your dress and underwear until you were standing in front of each other naked. “I’ll worship your body another time.” He murmured, trailing his fingers down your chest “For now, I just want to fuck you rough.”
You smirked and shook your head, making Jake widen his eyes “You don’t want this? I can stop.”
“No, I want it.” You stated, slowly sinking on your knees “I just need to show you my skills first.”
That was the hottest thing anyone could’ve done to Jake, his cock twitched in front of you. It was huge, veiny and hard, his mushroom tip looking ever so delicious.
“You see, baby? This is what you do to me.” He pumped his shaft, brushing it on your lips.
“Stick out that tongue for me.” You did as told and stuck your tongue out as Jake laid his cock on it, bucking his hips back and forth. The spongy and warm texture already making it leak with precum.
You played with his balls while you took him whole in your mouth, gagging when it hit the back of your throat. The filthy sounds filled the room as he took a hold of your head, fisting your hair in a makeshift ponytail while he thrusted inside your throat.
“So good.” He panted, his head thrown back and brows knitted.
You twirled your tongue around his cock, pumping it with your hands where your lips couldn’t reach “Sucking my cock so well.”
Before you could even register, Jake pulled out and raised you from your armpits, placing you on the bed.
“I need to feel your pussy.” He stated, rubbing your clit with his thumb “Want to use a condom, baby?” He asked, “Just tell me.”
You shook your head, bringing him down onto you in a heated kiss “Fuck me raw.” He moaned in the kiss and fisted his shaft again, gathering your juices, you got so wet even by just giving him a blow.
He slowly inserted himself in you, the stretch causing you to pant. You weren’t a virgin but he was bigger than the ones you had before, so it took a moment for you to get used to it.
Jake’s thrusts were nice and slow at first, his forehead resting on yours “I can’t resist.” He breathed out, giving a deeper thrust “Please, can I move?”
You nodded your head, trying to breathe steadily. Jake raised from you and spread your legs open while he moved inside you. You grasped your tits, palming them while maintaining eye contact with Jake.
“You don’t know how much I wanted this,” He groaned, pulling out just to spit on your hole to fill it again “Pussy so tight can barely move.”
Your hand went down to rub circles on your clit, trying to make it wetter as his thrusts gained speed.
Jake slapped your hand and commanded “Hands around your ankles.” And so you complied.
He leaned down and kissed you sloppily, his hips moving back and forth at a delicious rhythm. You moaned out loud.
Holding your head up to rest his forehead on it, your eyes still locked with the others as your body connected fanatically, Jake twitched inside of you and halted his movements.
“Fuckk, almost came.” He chuckled, pulling out of you.
“Want to last longer than this.” He took your body and turned you around, you raised yourself on your arms and leaned your ass up.
“You like being fucked in doggy, mh?” He spammed your ass “Looking so eager to be fucked dumb, you won’t think about anything but my cock in you.”
Jake pushed himself inside of you again, making you moan out his name “Yes, that’s me.” He groaned “Say it again.”
“Jake.” You gasped, he fisted your hair, making you arch your back while he rutted your body “Oh, Y/N.” He moaned as well.
Putting one hand around your neck, he squeezed it as he threw his own head back, lost in the pleasure your warm walls were giving you.
“Fuck baby, I’m not gonna last long.” He panted, stopping his movements to edge himself “Just fuck me.” You pleaded, frustrated by your own denied orgasm every time he stopped.
“Sorry,” He chuckled, spanking your ass and leaning down to kiss the back of your shoulder “You want to cum?”
You nodded, raising yourself to kiss him passionately as he slowly thrusted inside you “Can you ride me, baby? Pretty please?”
Jake looked so hot, messy bangs sticking to his forehead and heavy breath, you couldn’t do anything but agree to everything he said.
You waited for him to lay down, his back pressed against the headboard of the bed as you straddled him.
You rubbed your wet folds on his hard-on, Jake reached for your tits and squeezed them “Have I ever told you you’re so fucking hot?” He asked.
You chuckled “No, but I already know that.” You winked and raised yourself on your knees, slowly sinking down on his cock.
The stretch was still a little painful, but nothing compared to the pleasure his dick was giving you.
You moved on him, up and down at a slow but deep rhythm, feeling him all as he hit your cervix with each thrust.
Jake moved your hair out of your face, his lips attaching to your boob as if he was a toddler in desperate need of milk.
You moaned, your hands grasping his shoulders as you moved back and forth at a quick speed.
“Oh yes.” He put his hands behind his head and watched as you rode him, your mouth agape, gasping for air while shaky moans escaped your lips “Feels good.”
Your legs started to shake and you could barely keep yourself up as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten “I’ve got you.” Jake noticed and made you lay on his chest, his hands spreading your ass cheeks as he started rutting inside you, his pace so quick you didn’t know it was possible.
Your pussy clenched around his cock, creaming him as you fell apart, your moans loud and whole body shaking.
Jake didn’t stop, he chased his own orgasm which was so close.
“You're just made to please me.” He panted, giving a few more thrusts “You're made to squeeze every drop of cum from my cock.” His eyes rolled back with a low groan as he shot his load, his cock twitching until it emptied in you.
You both stayed there for a while, just trying to steady your breaths and calm your racing hearts.
Jake slowly traced your back with his fingers, a featherlight touch sending shivers all dove your spine.
He pulled out, his cum dripping down from your pussy to your thighs and bedsheets.
Jake helped you sit up and removed a few strands of hair that got stuck to your face “You look gorgeous.” He whispered, earning a smile from you “And you did amazing.”
He cleaned you up and threw the dirty sheets on the floor “I’m sorry for whoever will have to clean them tomorrow.” You commented, grimacing.
“Don’t worry about it,” He soothed, settling himself beside you and holding you on his chest, gently caressing your bare shoulder.
You looked up at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You should start making choices for your own happiness, Jake.” You murmured
Jake let out a small sigh “Indeed, I should.” He pressed a kiss on your brow “I want to choose you, not my parents, not anyone else. Only you.” You smiled, “I only want you, too.”
“I’ll find a way to fight my parents, I promise I’ll be stronger this time.” Your eyes softened at his words, you caressed his cheek and he leaned on your palm, melting “Oh Jake, you’re the strongest person I know.” You confessed.
“Really?” He asked, looking like a lost boy, “Really.” You confirmed.
Suddenly, your stomach growled loudly. Jake glanced at his phone he had found in his forgotten jeans and put on the bedside table “It’s late night, ma chérie. You’re hungry?”
You nodded, “I want steak.” Jake snorted at your joke “And I want a burger.” He said back.
“Hanging out with a girl from the other side of the town changed you.” You smirked, nudging his shoulders
“Yeah. For the better.”
THE END.
#enhypen fics#enhypen smut#enhypen#enhypen au#sim jake#jake scenarios#jake smut#sim jake smut#jaeyun smut#sim jake scenarios#jake sim smut#enhypen x reader#jake x reader#jake enhypen#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#jake hard hours#jake hard thoughts#jaeyun hard hours#sim jake hard hours#sim jaeyun fics
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WORK EXPENSE - LN
lando x dj!reader SMAU <3
no one can quite work out if they're together - neither can lando. yn? she's just there for the vibes.
masterlist the playlist
beatsbyyn has posted!
liked by martingarrix, landonorris and 15,607 others...
beatsbyyn best night - thank you martingarrix and burnerroom for having me! <3
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burnerroom come back soon!!
⇾ beatsbyyn ur never getting rid of me now ♡
landonorris photo creds left the chat :(
⇾ beatsbyyn cry about it ♡
⇾ landonorris make me???
⇾ beatsbyyn sir this is a wendys?
⇾ landonorris sir? oh so it's like THAT huh?
martingarrix SO SICKKKK same time next week?
⇾ beatsbyyn ive already started planning our next set!!
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beatsbyyn to my favourite brother, happy birthday frankie ♡ ̆̈ glad u stopped trying to run me over with your kart
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frankb im your only brother? but thank you ig?
⇾ beatsbyyn be grateful i said anything at all
⇾ frankb what was that? sorry couldn't hear you over the sound of my successful career and happy relationship
⇾ beatsbyyn didnt ask.
l4uren wait was he in formula renault??
⇾ beatsbyyn yes but now hes just a pain in my ass
⇾ ln4ours wait so her and lando have probably known each other for years??
⇾ l4uren he competed with max f in 2016 so maybe?
⇾ ln4ours the djing crossover now makes perfect sense lmao
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liked by landonorris, martingarrix and 45,217 others...
beatsbyyn personal assistant, professional dj and part time nurse - amsterdam, you were messy - same time next year??
tagged: landonorris and martingarrix
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landonorris delete this 🙏
⇾ beatsbyyn no 🙏
⇾ mclaren beatsbyyn never delete this
⇾ beatsbyyn anything for you admin ♥︎
lnwag bro what did h- hOW??
⇾ beatsbyyn he's a 24 year old man who can't hold a glass without smashing it
⇾ landonorris which is completely normal, im sure
⇾ beatsbyyn it's not.
⇾ maxfewtrell it's not.
⇾ georgerussell63 it's not.
-> beatsbyyn yo georgerussell63??? tell carmen i miss her
lilymhe can you be my nurse?
-> beatsbyyn i heard kissing is the best medicine
-> lilymhe cant hurt to try
-> alex_albon hello?
-> beatsbyyn lilymhe never let your boyfriend get in the way of finding your future wife
martingarrix the door was unlocked? why did you climb through the window?
-> beatsbyyn skill issue 😎
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beatsbyyn he said "i can dj, but can you drive" - im expecting a call from zak brown any moment now.
tagged landonorris
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landonorris never getting in a car with you ever again.
⇾ beatsbyyn i did great wdym??
⇾ landonorris you spun off the track and said "oopsies" ?!?!?!
⇾ ln4ours she's so me fr
mclaren zak said he's sending the paperwork over now
⇾ beatsbyyn good thing i look great in papaya
⇾ landonorris is this how i find out ive been fired?
⇾ mclaren yeah so about that....
⇾ landonorris admin?? say jk rn
lnwag are they...together? im so confused
⇾ alex_albon me too.
⇾ georgerussell63 me too.
⇾ oscarpiastri me too.
⇾ landonorris me too.
⇾ beatsbyyn me too.
maxfewtrell did he not learn from the last time we went karting?
⇾ beatsbyyn in my defence - i was leading and he pushed past me??
⇾ maxverstappen1 so you pushed him back and then he pushed you off the track?
⇾ beatsbyyn it's not fair :(
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#propertyofwicked#f1 smau#lando norris smau
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the alternate … art donaldson
Art has a proclivity for giving attention to his enemy. He hates her— but particularly hates how she has Patrick wrapped around her finger even more.
warnings ; smut .. slutty drunk freshman art x Patrick's gf, infidelity .. unedited for now! oops!
It didn’t take much time for Art to settle into Cornell— it wasn’t just the tennis or the girls, of which he quickly learned were rather women, or even the academics. His hesitation on his attendance was especially foolish, especially in moments like these as he rolled over, crushing the red solo up beneath him. The buzzing in his jean pocket persisted, just like it had for the last five minutes before, causing him to utter another affirmation to ignore it into her mouth.
Maybe the women had one or two things to do with it.
"Maybe just get it?"
"Why?"
"So you... can tell them you're busy."
He hummed into her mouth as the girl above him detached herself, moving to grab the stitch of her top to remove it as he tilted his hips to reach for his phone.
Patrick.
His calloused hands came up to push her thighs over his hips, sitting up to read the rapid series of text Patrick had sent. And Art soon saw— was still sending. All of them ranged from different ways of him asking Art to check up on you, letting your attendance be known. Patrick's texts detailed the simple request of him checking to see if you were taking your alcohol well. Another saying he hoped you wouldn't get roofed. And one that blatantly asked that he didn't let any of "those Ivy League assholes" fuck his girlfriend.
Art rolled his eyes, resentment laced in his actions as he muttered condolences and pledged to "be right back", his large hands taking the knob of the door and peering out into the dark hallway to find you. When a look wasn't enough, he left the room door slightly ajar, stepping completely into the hallway filled with red cups, colored lights, almost sidetracked by his team that pulled him by the neck and fought to put a drink in his hand. With a light smile still gracing his face and beer in a can, his eyes wondered up to your face, watching as your lips wrapped around a bottle of Corona, some leaking out the side of which you swiped away with the back of your hand. He felt the same kind of resentment he usually felt when he saw you when Patrick visited fill him from his chest out. He watched as you leaned against the wall talking to someone. He took in your skimpy skirt and top with less resentment, though.
He especially didn't like it when the next time he looked for your face, you were staring at him, eyes hooded and smile nasty and condescending.
"He told me to look for you."
"I know." You raised your eyebrow dismissively, almost wanting to laugh at Patrick's good intentions. He knew what you'd say about Art. Just like you assumed what Art said about you, yet he asked him anyway.
"And by that, he means look after you." Art leans in, lips close to your ear as the music sounded. You roll your eyes as he lingers there a moment too long and you expect him to say something more, but he never does.
"We both know I look fine."
It takes a beat before he responds. "We both do."
"And we both know you don't want to babysit."
"But I'm a good friend."
"I've known corrupt politicians that are better friends than you, Art."
He sways away from you, facing the rest of the party as he rolls his eyes with the kind of insularity he only reserved for you, tipping his head back to finish the rest of his beer and tossing it towards the trashcan, only to miss.
He turns to you, irritation flaring as he stabilizes himself on the sticky wall behind him by holding your hips. It's something you're willing to let go of, your breath clicking as he whispers: "You smell like pot."
"It's a free country."
"Okay," he challenges, pursing his lips as he leans closer. "What's in your cup?"
"What? Yours and Chelsea's not good enough for you?"
His upper lip raises, in a look of both disgust and toleration as he grasps your wrist, forcing you to bring your own bottle to his mouth. The contents of it are mostly able to be swallowed but the rest flow from the corners of his lips, down his chin, to his throat where his Adams apple bobs as he swallows. You wipe it instinctively, causing you to both freeze for only a moment. He shutters before he opens his mouth again to slur,
"Chelsea?"
You look at him quizzically, your mouth opening once, twice, three times, only to say nothing but erupt in laughter that rocks your head backwards and your body closer to his. Art looks around frantically, his mouth tilting downwards as he looks around, grasping your hips forward and gritting his teeth as he repeats himself.
"Chelsea? What's the fucking joke I'm not getting?"
"The girl that you just— my fucking god, Art. I know you look the way you do, but you couldn't even remember her name?" You tilt your head towards the doorway, insinuating the room you're sure his cologne still lingered in. He groans, his head falling forward in a laugh as his right hand on your hip runs up the side of your torso, his head spinning.
"I'm not a very good date, am I?" You can nearly taste the alcohol on his tongue and you're out of laughs, humor gone as a consequence of being so close to him. And maybe he's too drunk to realize it's happening, but you're too cross to care when his thumbs rub circles on your hipbone, of which he had to invade underneath your waistband to do.
"I almost finished my night like this." It's so quiet that you're unsure if it was for you to hear. But it doesn't matter, as your hand runs up his arm and shoulders, eyes following over the ripples.
"This is not the same."
Your other hand trickles down to his waistband, guiltily skating over his bulge as you feel his pocket for his phone.
"Arthur, Patrick told you to check on me. So, tell him I'm okay."
"I told him that I'd check on you. I also told him you were a bad idea, like I always do," He saws it lowly, as if it's not supposed to slip out and has only found it's way because of his level of intoxication. You scoff, pushing him backwards as you're suddenly slightly more sober. You rock back and forth, eyes rolling back, but the distance is not created before you can hear him finish: "but I never said he didn't have good taste."
You don't like that it's still said in the way only drunk and resentful Art could deliver it. "You're not a very good fucking friend."
"To who, you?" He makes it his personal duty to invade your space, his face in somewhat of a snarl. You know that some would see this as uncharacterized for Art, but it's most familiar to you. It feels somewhat like home. Albeit, a house fire, but home.
Your first encounter with him was glancing behind yourself at move in, and seeing his blonde locks brushed back by calloused hands as he looked at you, then to your racket.
Your second encounter was only minutes later, when he stood next to his raven haired friend who asked for your number as he rolled his eyes with a knot in his jaw, as if he didn't find you worthy. He tugged on the shirt of his friend, telling him there were better things to do. Better, he had said.
And that never made much sense to you. Because in your relationship with Patrick, there had always been the inconsequential three.
"You're not my friend," You begin, mind calculating how many rooms through doors of Cornell's largest finals club you'd have to go before finding somewhere, anywhere, that would fit just you. "Never was."
Art's only silent for a moment, nose flaring and eyes squinting. his shoulders are tense, and if you were to look down you'd see his hand balled in a fist.
"What? What now, Art?"
"You never gave me your number."
He watches as your eyes furrow in confusion, the heat in your eyes rising rather than deflating. Without your bottle, your hands search for something to do. They resort to touching yourself in the same places he just had, your fingers running down your torso quickly, your hip bone. When you touch your shoulder is when the two of your gazes meet once again. Art watches through blue as you nod your head slowly in both horror and understanding.
You're quick on your feet. He's watched countless of your matches, even when he had no business doing so. But he is too. So when a short string of curses land out of your mouth and you march down the hallway, he's on your heels.
And all you can think is that you know his gaze better than any other. It wasn't something you intended but through these sporadic games, your body and soul had bargained to be familiar with Art more than any other. If he leaned against the net or lunch table, it became the kind of resourcefulness of movement that was so particularly him. It was rare you called on him, yet necessary when it was a matter of Patrick. He was always there, steadfast and urgent. It'd be days before you learned of the lecture he missed because of it. And while your boyfriend was off being a pro, he never was slow to tell you how good his female counterparts around him were, while you were "only barely whopping college ass".
But somehow he was always there. You found his gels and handle tape in your tennis bag. You had more than half your dining points still because you were just "a casualty of being present when he was buying his own lunch". And it all made you feel as if he was just very...
"You're a fucking con artist," You shoved him against the door of which he only narrowly made it "A fucking wolf in sheep's clothing."
It made you even angrier that he was stronger than you but willing to let his body fall back, lips pierced in a thin obedient line as his back hit the door repeatedly under your assault until he grasped both your forearms, holding them closely together. A wince escaped your mouth, his strength relenting and becoming lighter but still he held you. He leaned down, attempting to meet your face that now focused on the hardwood.
"I know I'm the bad guy. Still, what's it gonna be?"
You didn't look up at that. But you did at the vibration that sounded in his pocket just seconds later. There were always three.
Art doesn't waste a moment to release your arms, wrapping his own in an enclosure around your head to reach your lips, tugging you impossibly close to him. You can't help but not move-- letting him twist your head and invade your lips. It's only until you release a small moan you latch back.
After Art's kiss, your night was haunted, distorted beyond your eyes' power of correction. So when a pair of lips landed on yours again, you came back home. You gave in.
His hands ran down your body, invading each and every corner of you. Your hips, your waist, the small of your back, the back of your thighs which he used to hoist your body upwards and against the doorframe, caging you. As the wet kisses sound on your neck, you look past his head to the room you two now occupied, no bed. Just various pieces of miscellaneous covered in cream sheets. When you look towards the window, releasing another whimper as you feel his middle and index finger prod at your cotton panties, you can see dust aligning with the moonlight.
Like everything else he does, he's good at the way he touches you. No, instinctual. The very thing that sometimes is missing from his tennis. Art's fingers curve and level themselves out inside of you, yet he leaves his palms frigid, rubbing your clit back and forth with the surface of it. It makes you all so weak, Art murmuring your name as the two of you lower to the floor, you're suddenly reminded of the urgency of the matter.
"Art, I need--"
"I know,"
I know,
I know,
I know.
He repeats the sentiment into your skin and it almost makes your eyes brim with tears as you feel his bulge covered by denim slot against your soaked underwear. The feeling is delicious, so you excuse your decorum when you buck your hips against his. You watch as he detaches himself from you, the depth of his blonde hair twinkling in the moonlight. His lips and chin are swollen and wet from your messy kisses that appeared to be more tongue than anything. He lifts your hips to remove your skirt on his own once he catches the way your eyes watch him, still. He looks at you, sick with the same fever, but now you're not quite sure what this illness even is.
His hands move to tug your shirt up, yet you push his hands away, making them double up on his belt as both of you scramble to slide his jeans below his ass. You also help him when he leans to grab your right leg, sliding it up and against his hip as he sways above you. You watch as he thinks, only for a moment, places a feather right kiss on your knee, whispers something you can't hear, and promptly shoves his dick inside of you.
The force of it slams your head against the door, the hinges rattling but the surprise of his size makes it so you hardly notice. You close your eyes immediately until you're struck with the realization that you hope this never happens again. You hope you're never drunk enough, or lucky enough to have your boyfriend's best friend's dick rocking you back and forth ever again. You near your eyes open, willing to at least let yourself savor what little you have now, gazing in the middle of you two where you can see him disappear inside of you repeatedly.
Art huffs above you as your name escape his lips repeatedly as if it hadn't been the first time. You find yourself unable to cope, grabbing the hardwood until you realize there's not much give. So you resort to firmly biting his shoulder between your gasps and yelps. which only surges him on to drive into you faster, his hips snapping and the sounds of both your flesh filling the room.
You feel his clammy hand reach for the hair at the nape of your neck and you allow yourself to submissively follow regardless of your confusion. Art's breath mingles with yours as he asks:
"Is it good?"
You don't answer.
"Does it feel good?"
Your brows furrow together as you nod your head assertively up and down, chest heaving uncontrollably. He meets your lips and it feels as if he's kissing you solely for himself as he drags his hand on your cheeks and forehead, ridding your face of your sweat and hair. His other hand circulates your clit with a firm hold and you feel the familiar sensation approaching. Your skin felt both as cold and hot as it ever had, your teeth penetrating your bottom lip, biting Art in the process.
"I don't think we should do this.." You spit out quietly in intervals, because it feels like the right thing to say right before you come all over his cock and he leans down to look at the mess you've made in bliss. The results that it gives are fruitful, as you feel his fingers' relentlessness on your clit still. But you can tell he's struggling to stay where he is, trying to milk every moment he can inside of you.
You use your feet to push his hips back, arms reaching above your head as you untangle your limbs. Your legs remain sprawled out on his thighs, of which lay on his calves. The silence between you two is like molasses, and he stares at your core as you brush your socked toes against his abdomen, then cock.
You see a frown form on his face, but you're also met with the needy repeated rise of his hips that meet your foot and help you grind against him. You watch in awe as his eyes don't leave yours, confusion filling the air. You bring your feet faster, rubbing against his tip and watch as Art's whimper fills the air and his cum shoots to his lower stomach and your sock, his eyes closing, throat repeatedly bobbing as he rides his high. You watch as the thrusts into you become increasingly slower until they stop completely and the two of you are left still once again. You marvel in the way it seems almost as if he always gets what he wants. And Art isn't quite sure of what to make of you at all anymore, with his ears ringing and chest warm.
On his knees, he cascades towards your body that slumps against the door frame. He moves towards you slowly at first, hesitating if you wanted any of this at all. But you don't decline the warmth of his chest as he pulls you in, wordlessly. You let him bury his nose to your scalp as he takes you in.
And you both agree that if this may be a story of tonight alone, you both might as well melt indistinguishably into it once again.
#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x you#art donaldson /reader#art donaldson /you#challengers movie#challengers 2024#art donaldson fic#art donaldson imagine
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hope you don't mind me asking but could reader adopt harris officially? it'd be a sweet little blurb ☺️
Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Summary: Harris makes a special request on his birthday: for you to adopt him and officially be his mommy.
TW: mention of parental neglect/drug use, pretty much just all fluff and happiness
WC: 2.2k
A/N: Happy Mother's Day to all of the moms out there! Y'all are badasses who deserve to be celebrated. I used this video for the judge's dialogue to ensure accuracy.
February 2001
“So, Har,” Eddie starts through a mouthful of cake, “did you have a good birthday?”
Harris nods emphatically, digging into his own slice. A dollop of vanilla frosting dots the tip of his nose, but he continues eating, unbothered.
Eddie looks at you as you try to contain the inevitable mess that Hendrix will make. His chubby cheeks are already decorated with chocolate cake, and he’s only a few bites in. “Can you believe we have a nine-year-old now?”
You shake your head. The years truly have flown by, and though you haven’t had the privilege of being there for all of them, it feels as though Harris’s fifth birthday was only yesterday.
“What’s crazy to me is that Harris is the same age you were when I took you in,” Wayne says to Eddie. He glances at his nephew, a wistful look in his old eyes.
“Oh, yeah!” Harris grins. “I forgot you took care of Daddy.”
Eddie leans back in his seat and smirks. “Did you ever regret adopting me, Old Man?”
“Every damn day.”
While he may have tuned out his dad and grandfather’s back-and-forth, you can see Harris pause before he continues eating. He’s never been one to stifle his curiosity, the wheels in his head turning as he processes the information.
His time to ask a question grinds to a halt when Hendrix slams his little palm right into the cake slice, grabs a chunk of it, and smashes it into his face. If any actually got in his mouth, it would be a miracle.
Harris gets his opportunity later that night. Eddie tucks him into bed, pulling the SpongeBob comforter up to his chin, and kisses his head.
“Daddy?” Harris asks before Eddie can stand up.
“Hmm?”
“Why did Grampa adopt you?”
Eddie exhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek. As his eldest son has gotten older, he’s become more honest with him, not constantly shielding him from painful truths. He chooses his words carefully before speaking again.
“Well, my mom and dad weren’t good parents. They didn’t take care of me, and they made a lot of bad choices,” he says. Memories flash through his mind, ones of eviction notices and strangers constantly in his home. Ones of police officers snapping handcuffs on his parents’ wrists, the two of them too far gone to even register to the severity of the situation. He shakes it off, turning his attention back to Harris. “And so Grampa Wayne took me in and adopted me so I would have a safe, happy home.”
“Like how my mom made bad choices? My real mom?”
Eddie nods, wondering if Harris knows how closely their situations resembled each other. Except you did what your father didn’t–you changed, he reminds himself.
“Yeah, like that.”
Harris thinks for a moment. “But now Mom is my mom. So does that mean she adopted me?”
“No, she didn’t adopt you.” His heart sinks when he sees the small pout forming on Harris’s lips. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Why not?”
Eddie scratches at his jawline, his nails digging into a particular itchy patch of stubble. “Well, honestly…we wanted to make sure it was what you wanted, Har. Because Mom will love you no matter what,” he makes sure to add.
Without any hesitation, Harris declares, “It’s what I want.”
“Are you sure? You can sleep on it—” Eddie feels a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth despite his attempt to remain neutral. Yes, his son often acts on impulse, but Eddie can tell this isn’t one of those instances.
Harris huffs out an impatient sigh, irritated that he even has to explain himself. “Dad, I’m nine now,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’m almost double-digits. And I know I want Mom to adopt me.”
Eddie grins wider, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. “All right, bud. You got it.” He stands up with a grunt, something that Harris has already dubbed an ‘old man noise.’ “We’ll talk about this more tomorrow, okay?”
“Mm-hm,” Harris agrees sleepily, cocooning himself in his blankets while Eddie turns out the light.
Eddie is teeming with excitement when he sees you sitting in the family room, an open bag of sour cream and onion potato chips in your lap. Hendrix was fast asleep in his crib, and it was finally time for you and your husband to relax.
“So,” Eddie says, sliding onto the couch cushion next to you and plucking a chip from the bag, “it turns out that the birthday boy has one more gift request. A big one, actually.”
You raise your brows. “How big? Like, Hot Wheels track big or space camp big?”
“Neither.” Eddie’s eyes gleam. “He wants you to adopt him.”
You sit up quickly, a smile stretching across your face. “Are you…are you serious?”
“One hundred percent.” Eddie says with a nod. “He insisted on it, actually. I don’t think you could say no even if you wanted to.”
His teasing would normally draw a snarky retort from you, but you’re too overwhelmed to come up with a quip. “Harris wants me to adopt him,” you say slowly, letting each word seep into your tongue.
Eddie kisses your cheek, his nose brushing your warm skin. “This is everything I ever wanted for him, you know,” he murmurs. Another kiss, then he tilts your chin so he can place his lips on yours. “Thank you for loving him.”
You snuggle in closer, your head resting on his shoulder. “Thank you for letting me.”
September 2002
It’s a special occasion when you can convince Eddie and Wayne Munson to wear a suit and tie, but you didn’t even have to ask today. Both men are dressed with their shirts tucked into their slacks—not jeans.
You smooth out a pleat in your dress, scoop Hendrix out of his Pack-N-Play, and grin at your family.
“You guys ready?” You ask, desperate to get everyone into the car before someone spills something on their clothes. While Harris and Hendrix would be the most obvious culprits of a mess, the men are just as capable of causing chaos.
Eddie slings Hendrix’s diaper bag over his shoulder and takes Harris’s hand in his. “Let’s ship out, team.”
“Ship out!” Hendrix echoes–loudly, right in your ear. You wince, but you can’t stay annoyed for too long, considering how happy you are. How happy everyone is; even the baby of the family, who doesn’t know why he’s in a good mood, just that he is.
Everyone piles into the sedan: Eddie in the driver’s seat, you in the passenger seat, and Wayne squished between his grandsons in the back.
“Don’t know how I ended up here,” Wayne grumbles, reaching behind for his seatbelt.
Eddie grabs your hand as he pulls onto the road, giving it a tender squeeze. This is a huge deal; logically, you know this. To Eddie, he’s officially giving his son the mother he always deserved, and you’ll be able to make all sorts of important decisions for Harris. But to you, there is no piece of paper that can strengthen or weaken your love for your oldest son. Still, this is a promise from you to Harris, one that you will never break.
The courthouse’s silence is promptly broken with the Munsons’ arrival, as your family’s presence tends to do. Hendrix enjoys the way his delighted shrieks reverberate down the empty hallway, and Harris grips a nearby bench to jump out his nervous energy.
“Har?” you call out, waving him over to a private spot. He stops jumping long enough to follow you, shaking his hands excitedly.
You crouch down to his height and dig through your purse until you find what you’re looking for: a shiny silver compass with a quote engraved on the back:
“If you don’t get lost, there’s a chance you may never be found.”
“Uncle Dusty recommended his favorite compass, and he said you can bring it on your next camping trip” you say with a smile, your lower lip trembling as you hold back tears. “I hope that every time you use it, you remember that I’ll always be here to help you find your way.”
Harris looks from you to the compass and back again. He grins and flings his arms around you, nearly knocking you over in the process.
“This is so cool!” He cheers. “I’m gonna show everyone!”
“What do you say?” Eddie reminds him, a twinkle in his eye.
Harris barely turns around to you to yell, “Thanks, Mom!”
Mom. That title never gets old, and you don’t think it ever will.
“Munson?” You jump slightly when a bailiff announces that it’s your turn to see the judge. He gives a small smile as you enter the courtroom, probably relieved that this is a joyful occasion that won’t likely require his intervention.
This is it, you think. You wish your dress had pockets to hide your trembling hands.
Everyone takes their positions. Harris stands between you and Eddie, and Wayne holds Hendrix at the end, ready to make a quick getaway in case the youngest Munson decides to throw a tantrum.
The judge addresses you directly. Her tone is firm but warm as she says, “Do you understand that if your petition for the adoption of Harris Wayne Munson is granted, you will be legally responsible for him?”
“Yes.” You feel Harris’s palm slide against yours; when you briefly look down, you see that his other hand is holding Eddie’s.
“And do you understand that this support includes food, clothing, shelter, as well as medical and educational support?” She continues.
You nod. “Yes.”
“And do you understand that if your request is granted, that you will be Harris’s parent in all respects, just as if he had been born to you?”
“Yes.” Your heart swells with love. Just as if he had been born to you. Even with the memorable pains and trials brought on by carrying and delivering Hendrix, you considered Harris just as much your son.
“And do you understand you will be undertaking the intellectual, spiritual, and moral guidance of Harris?”
You can almost hear your husband’s thoughts: Better her than me.
“Yes.”
The judge goes through a few more questions, all regarding your abilities to care for Harris. With each one, you feel Harris’s bouncing get more exuberant; part of you wishes you could join him.
Finally, she declares, “Based upon the reports and recommendations, this court finds that granting this petition is in the best interest of Harris.” She looks directly at Harris as she says, “Congratulations, she’s officially your Mommy.”
A choked sob escapes your throat, and your free hand flies to your mouth. You and Eddie both crouch down to embrace Harris, and you can’t help but notice the tears in your husband’s eyes. Wayne makes his way to you and, as best as he can with Hendrix still in his arms, wraps you in a hug. You think he might be the only adult not crying, but a tell-tale sniffle gives him away.
Hendrix is very confused by the overt display of emotion. The last time Wayne cried was well before the boy was born, back when the Colts won the 1970 Super Bowl against the Cowboys.
“Daddy? Mommy? Grampa?” He asks. “Why you cry?”
“We’re fine, buddy. Just have some big feelings. Happy feelings,” Eddie clarifies, kissing Hendrix on a chubby cheek. He looks at Harris and grins. “How does it feel, Har? Now that Mom adopted you?”
Harris scrunches up his face. “Like the same.”
You laugh and ruffle his hair. It’s not as wild as it was when he was your student, his curls less of a mop. “Good ‘the same’?”
He grins, nodding and hugging you again. “I can’t wait to tell all of my friends, and Uncle Dusty, and Mr. Will…”
Harris continues listing people he’s going to share his news with all the way to the parking lot. Some names you recognize, and others he might as well be making up.
“Wait! I almost forgot!” You reach into your purse and pull out a Ziploc bag containing five Oreos. “Everyone take one, but don’t eat it yet.”
When each person has an Oreo in their hand, you raise your own to eye-level and begin your toast. “To my first son, Harris. Thank you for making me a mommy.”
“To Harris!” Wayne and Eddie chorus, and Hendrix just yells his brother’s name before chowing down on his cookie.
As you all pile back into the car, Eddie takes your hand in his. Chocolate is still tucked into the crevices of his lips.
“To you, Sweetheart. Thank you for being the mommy Harris always wanted. Thank you for making us a family again.”
The kiss tastes of vanilla creme, sugary sweet, and you swear you wouldn’t have broken it if Wayne didn’t clear his throat.
“No need to make a third kid up there,” he mutters under his breath.
Eddie glares at him, hoping Harris didn’t overhear the comment, but you press on. “Shall we celebrate at the diner?”
“Can we share pancakes?” Harris beams.
You crane your neck and look back at him, once again overwhelmed by the amount of love you hold for him–for your son.
“I’d love to.”
--
#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#fanfic#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things#tui
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Billion Dollar Baby - Grid x Billionare! Reader x Lewis Hamilton (Rom) Part 1
Plot: Girlie loves Formula One, but she also loved Chaos and Drama so she offers the FIA/ the F1 Teams 300 million to do a race … for her under her rules!
Credit to ladygagasource
As a billionaire with a net worth of over 90 billion pounds to your name and your name alone and having multiple stable corporations and investments in loads of different sectors and having donated overly generous amounts to charity, you couldn't help but start to find more interesting ways to invest your money.
You had 7 homes, all around the world completely paid off with about double the amount of cars, whether they were super cars, vintage cars or personalized cars. A private jet, 3 vacation homes and an island.
You lived a lavish life but you worked extremely hard for it, there wasn't really a moment you weren't working.
But you had your hobbies, the theatre (specifically WestEnd), travelling (when you had time away from work) you'd been really getting into sport.
Particularly F1 was an interest of yours. You'd put forward money into McLaren and given them upgrades from your various companies both tech wise and team wear wise.
But you were so intrigued with the sport and the difference from F2.
In F2, the cars were pretty much all the same and it was fully on driver capability. Whereas in F1 you could be a cracking driver but depending on the team you were in you were in a shit box car.
And that's why you were now currently stood in the paddock at Silverstone.
You'd proposed ... to the FIA a race, where you'd pay for driver - team switches that you could choose and run it as a charity event so any tickets sold went to charities chosen by the drivers.
And everyone loved it. I mean why wouldn't they. It wasn't like the teams were loosing out on money because you were paying them to build another car and for the drivers it was just a bit of fun to experience another car.
So here you were, in front of 20 drivers, 10 team principles, some CEO's of the teams, some FIA representatives and some media personal.
"Hello everyone!" you smile awkwardly. Even though you'd done presentations in front of many many people this felt really daunting to you.
A chorus of mumbles and hello's back to you occurred before you stand there awkwardly. Someone was supposed to introduce you, that's what you were told when you first got here but no-one was attempting to come up on stage to help you so you just laugh.
"So apparently no one is coming up to introduce me... so erm if you don't know who i am I'm Y/N Y/L/N and I've proposed money to each of your teams and the FIA to create a charity race where I switch drivers into different cars... Formula 1 really intrigues me to see how you all are naturally talented drivers and that the car really does matter... and i think it will be really interesting for the fans. It's a great opportunity for the teams and drivers to make special merch and special helmets and I just think as drivers it will be a really great experience for all of you!" you grin and there was mumbles questions thrown at you till you PR manager came up next to you to calm everyone down.
"One at a time please!" he says in his gruff masculine voice.
"Are you choosing which teams we go to?" Lando asks first, and you nodded.
"Are teams making a different car? Or?" he asks and you shake you head.
"Teams will rebuild the exact car that they have now. It will just be other drivers inside the car. Do you guys want to hear where you'll be?" you ask and a chorus of agreement flows through the room.
"Okay, so first up our two Red Bull Drivers. Current Champions of both Constructor and Drivers. Max Verstappen, you will be going to Williams. And Sergio Perez you will be going to Haas!" you start and gasps surround.
"So we aren't staying with our current team mate?" Lewis asks looking over to George.
"Okay, as for the current Ferrari Drivers, Charles you will be going to McLaren and Carlos after your announcement of joining Nico in Sauber for 2025 i thought it would be fun to give you a ... test run so you are going to Sauber!" you cheer and they both nod.
"Okay then for my McLaren boys I got Oscar to Ferrari and Lando to ... Red Bull!" you grin and Lando looks down with a laugh and shake of his head. Being a McLaren sponsor meant you spent a lot of time around the paddock with the pair of them.
"Next our Mercedes men, Lewis will be joining Max in Williams" you smirk making Lewis shake his head, you'd always liked teasing Lewis having had a relationship at one point and ending on good terms due to work stresses and struggles.
"And George will be in Aston Martin!" you smile and he nods.
"As for Aston Martin, Fernando you'll be driving alongside Carlos as a Spanish Duo in Sauber and Lance well your dad offered me money to put you in Red Bull but thought that wasn't the spirt of the charity event so Alpine for you!" you grin and you can tell some of the drivers, including Lance are trying not to laugh.
"Visa Cash App Racing Bulls, fuck me that's a mouthful erm Dani Ric you my friend are going to ... Aston Martin nice one and my favrioute driver ... sorry Lando and Oscar but he's literally my son ... Yuki my love you'll be in Red Bull with Lando!" you smile and he fits the air happily before nodding at you in thanks.
"Nico, Kevin Haas hasn't actually been all that bad for you guys this year. You've had great drivers however ... Kevin to Mercedes and Nico to RB!" you smile.
"Williams duo. You guys will be moving up. Logan i think you'll really really suit Ferrari red and Alex you better like Papaya coz you'll be joining Charles in McLaren!" you smile and Logan's face lights up being in a top team. This was really his opportunity to prove himself and that he was a great driver.
"Alpine ... not been an easy season for you guys unfortunately ... Pierre you'll be joining Mercedes and Esteban you'll drive for Haas"
"And finally our Stake Sauber whatever your team name is called will be moving ... Zhou to Alpine and Valtteri to Racing Bulls!"
"I hope this interests you all and you are all excited for the race in two months!" you say and you stay behind talking to some of the drivers until one is left.
"Hey baby" you smirk at Lewis as he leans against the door frame.
"I don't think I'll ever get over you calling me baby" he smiles softly and you smile back.
"Of course you wont ... baby" you grin.
"I'm excited for this race but I can't believe you .. put me in a Williams!" he exclaims and you just laugh before flattening out the lapels of his blazer before looking up at him.
"Cant make it easy for you, I wanna see you fight. You've lost your spark Lew!" you sigh looking over him.
Yours and Lewis relationship came to and end in 2021, just after he'd lost the championship. Said he needed to be more focused on his career. Baring in mind you'd been dating for 5 years before that.
"I-I know, it's not been the same since ..." he trails off and you nod.
"Since Max won... I know!" he smile at him, rubbing his shoulder, but after hearing you he takes a step back.
"No, since we ended things!" he sighs and you look over him in confusion.
"Lew..." you start and he shakes his head.
"I know it was mutual, but you were it for me. You ... you still are Y/N. I want you back and I know you aren't ready right now but you are the one thing i will and always will continue to fight for, fuck another championship ... fuck even another race win. I want you back though and I promise you i'll prove it!" he says looking over you, tears filling in your eyes as he pulls you into his chest, hugging you while stroking your hair.
"Ohhhh Lewis, what are you doing to me..." you laugh, because if you don't you'll cry.
"I'll see you in two months Lew!" you smile and walk out the door. He looks a little gutted your leaving but you need him to prove that he'll try.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#lando norris#charles leclerc#lando norris imagine#charles lecrelc x reader#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton#sir lewis hamilton#lh44 imagine#lh44 x reader#lh44#lh44 smut
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hiii! I’m here to request a scenario (headcanon? Drabble? it doesn’t rlly matter; do whatever fits best, just as long as Yuta and Megumi is in it :3, you can add another character if you want or something!!) when the reader is being admired/stalked by another person? Like jjk men hear a snap sound and whip their head to see someone taking a picture of reader, or jjk men noticing the same person commenting + viewing reader’s social medias all the time, etc etc! It doesn’t rlly matter how you want it to play out; do what you like :3
STALKER IN SIGHT?!
featuring: fushiguro megumi. yuuta okkotsu. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji.
n. thanku for the request and the creative liberty on this one nonnie <3 have fun seeing them all protective with their own ways for you !
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
megumi and you sat together in a quaint little café, savoring the warmth of your drinks and the comfort of each other's company, a faint click disrupted the moment. lost in conversation, you barely registered the sound, but megumi's keen senses picked it up immediately.
"what’s wrong?" you asked, puzzled by the slight shift in his demeanor. “i think someone just took a photo of us," he replied, tone tinged with concern.
you glanced around, but saw no one with a camera. "really? i didn't notice anyone."
he nodded, his gaze focused on a young man a few tables away, phone in hand, a smug grin on his face. without hesitation, megumi rose from his seat, his movements purposeful yet controlled.
with a protective instinct, he strode over to the guy, calmly but firmly retrieving their phone. "i'm sorry, but i'll have to delete that photo," he said, his voice carrying a subtle warning. as for the person, they were taken aback by his assertiveness, complied without hesitation.
“thank you," your boyfriend said, his tone polite yet tinged with a subtle warning. "we do appreciate your cooperation."
with that, he returned to your table, a reassuring smile gracing his lips. "sorry about that," he said, taking a sip of his black coffee. "i just wanted to make sure our moment wasn't interrupted."
GOJO SATORU
"babe, do you feel like we're being followed?" unsure, you sounded apprehensive.
he chuckled lightly, his gaze scanning the surroundings with practiced ease. "don't worry, darling. i've got my eyes on everything. if there's anyone following us, they'll regret it."
relieved by his assurance, you relaxed, allowing yourself to get lost in the beauty of the moment. but as the evening wore on, the feeling persisted, growing stronger with each passing minute. and then, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of movement, a shadow flitting among the trees.
your boyfriend noticed first. his face clouded, and a flash of rage lit in his body. "stay close to me," he said, voice low and menacing.
"alright, enough is enough," he declared, cutting through the silence like a blade. "whoever you are, show yourself.”
“you don’t wanna get on my bad side, really.”
from the shadows emerged a figure, their features obscured by the fading light. "i-i... i just wanted to... to…"
your boyfriend’s eyes narrowed and his tolerance wore thin. with a quick burst of speed, he closed the distance between them in an instant, his palm clutching the stalker's collar like a vice. "you just wanted to do what?" stalk us? follow us around like a creep?” gojo’s aura exuded an undeniable terror that sent shocks down the stalker's body.
the stalker trembled beneath his grasp, their breath coming in shallow gasps. "i... i'm sorry, i didn't mean any harm. i just... i just wanted to be close to her."
gojo's grip tightened, eyes flashing with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the darkness. “if i ever catch you following us again," he threatened, "you'll wish you'd never laid eyes on us. understood?"
ITADORI YUUJI
together, you and itadori were enjoying a serene moment in the park, laughing and chatting as a gentle breeze rustled through the trees. the silence was abruptly broken, though, by the sound of surrounding camera shutters clicking.
itadori's smile faltered as he noticed a group of guys discreetly taking photos of you both. his expression turned from confusion to annoyance, his brows furrowing in irritation.
"not cool, dude," he called out, his sound firm but not overly aggressive.
the guys turned to look at him, their faces displaying a mixture of surprise and defiance. one of them chuckled nervously, attempting to brush off itadori's remark. "hey man, just capturing the moment, you know?"
your boyfriend, however, would not have it. his movements gave off a subdued threat as he walked towards the group. "i understand, but you’re making me and my girlfriend uncomfortable. so stop it.”
taking advantage of the crowd, one of the guys moved forward with aggression, their fists balled up with rage. "who do you think you are, telling us what to do?" itadori's muscles tensed, his gaze hardening in anticipation. however, he refrained, showing strength in his control, before things might get out of hand.
the guy, taken aback by itadori's composure, hesitated for a moment before backing down, his bravado replaced by a palpable sense of fear. "o-okay, man, we'll stop," he muttered, trembling slightly.
with a final warning glance, itadori returned to your side, a huge grin painting his lips. "as i was saying," he continued, as if the whole tragedy didn’t happen a few seconds ago. “we have to watch jennifer lawrence’s new movie together, babe, okay?”
YUUTA OKKOTSU
you were laughing and chatting as you looked through the shelves of a pleasant shop with yuuta, exploring the various products on exhibit. your boyfriend trailed along behind you, half-heartedly staring at a customer's phone nearby as you moved to make a purchase.
his expression shifted subtly as he noticed the username, the same one that had been relentlessly stalking you for months, liking and commenting on your social media posts. his jaw clenched with a mixture of concern and irritation, but he maintained his composure.
leaning casually against the counter, yuuta shot a seemingly innocuous question towards the customer, his tone deceptively casual. "the girl's pretty, huh?"
the customer, caught off guard by the sudden inquiry, hesitated for a moment before reluctantly answering, "y-yeah, she is."
with a small, knowing smile, yuuta straightened up, his gaze piercing as he delivered his response. "well, sucks for you, that's my girlfriend."
the customer's eyes widened in realization, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "i-i didn't mean any harm, i swear," he stammered.
yuuta's expression softened slightly, but his tone remained firm. "i don't care what your intentions were. you've been making her uncomfortable for months, and that ends now. stop stalking her, or you'll have me to deal with."
the customer nodded hastily, his hands trembling as he pocketed his phone and made a hasty exit, leaving behind a palpable sense of relief in his wake.
turning back to you with a soft smile, yuuta wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "what happened?" you asked with a chuckle, he was suddenly clinging onto you.
"nah, just grateful i have the prettiest girlfriend alive."
@uzurakis — rqs are open <3
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#.writing#megumi fluff#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#fushiguro x reader#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori x reader#itadori yuuji#yuji itadori#yuji x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkotsu#okkotsu yuuta#yuuta x reader#yuuta x you#yuuta fluff#itadori fluff#gojo fluff
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Leaning In
Everything felt strange.
It felt strange to see sunlight again. To walk into her apartment. To hug Alex again, hug Lena, hug the rest of the superfriends. To hear cars roll by and planes overhead and people everywhere.
Compared to the phantom zone, everything was strange.
Wires were crossed, Kara thought, looking over at Lena with an overwhelming sense of guilt at what she had almost done, days before. Lena sat quietly on Kara's couch with a glass of wine, eyeing Kara from across the coffee table where Brainy and Alex were finishing out their game of Monopoly.
It had only been four days since her return, and Alex hadn’t given her a moment of solitude, so overjoyed to finally have her sister back. And Kara was glad for the noise, for the life that was back in her life with all the superfriends, chatter and colors and hugs instead of the desolate wasteland of the phantom zone.
But in that time, Kara and Lena hadn’t had a moment alone together, leaving a sinking pit in Kara’s stomach when she thought about when she’d next have a real conversation with the Luthor. Does she realize?, Kara thought, Does she know I almost tried to kiss her?
The phantom zone breaks people. It’s why Krypton used it as a prison, why it became such an effective deterrent. Her brain wasn’t normal when she returned. She normally knew better. Knew better than to try to kiss her best friend. But in her traumatized and mostly isolated state, Kara had briefly forgotten the sort of decorum required with normal living - that her months of wishing she were home in Lena’s arms didn’t mean that her daydreams had become real.
Brainy finally won the game of Monopoly - proud that he had been able to knock Lena out of the game early, virtually guaranteeing his victory - and the superfriends finally began packing up to go home. Alex pulled Kara into a tight hug, planning on giving the kryptonian some space for the night, the first where Kara would sleep in her own bed instead of the Tower. “Coffee tomorrow morning?” Alex asked adamantly, Kara quickly agreeing.
One by one, the superfriends made their way out the door - until only Lena remained, still sitting on the couch, though she had set down the glass of wine. Kara turned awkwardly from her place by her kitchen island, watching the Luthor still watching her.
Slowly, Lena rose from her seat, making her way over to Kara. “Can we talk?” she asked.
Kara nodded, glancing nervously to the side. She knows. “I’m sorry,” Kara murmured. “When I came back, I- I wasn’t thinking.”
Lena’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You don’t need to be sorry, Kara.”
Kara tilted her head back up at Lena. “Are we- are we talking about the same thing?”
“Aren’t we?” Lena said quietly.
Kara swallowed. Just lay the cards on the table, she thought to herself. “I’m talking about - I tried to kiss you. Before I remembered you wouldn’t want it. I mean, even if you did-” Kara cut herself off, glancing to the floor. Rao, I should’ve thought through this more instead of babbling…
But to her surprise, she heard Lena step towards her, until the brunette was close enough to clasp onto Kara’s hand. Kara glanced up again, taking in Lena’s demure expression. “Even if I did?” Lena asked.
Kara’s eyes flitted between Lena’s, noting how her heart was beating faster, how there was a light blush crossing her face. Oh, Kara thought, feeling a small burn on her own cheeks as she realized what was happening. “Even if you did,” Kara said shyly, “I wouldn’t want our first kiss to be in front of everyone else.”
Lena smiled softly, giving Kara’s hand a gentle squeeze. “We’re alone now,” she said.
Kara smiled back. “We are,” she said warmly, pausing for one more moment to take in Lena’s face. Lena tilted her head, and Kara leaned towards her.
And this time, she didn’t stop.
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now that we don’t talk [paige bueckers]
paige bueckers x fem!reader
summary: you and paige break up and neither of you know how to move on properly with your life
a/n: decided to go for some angst again…didn’t really have an aim or a direction when writing this so not sure if i should turn this into a series or not ? lmk what yall think
word count: 1.5k
masterlist
The First Week
In the first week, Paige had fallen into her daily routine. Her moments of forgetfulness were instinctual; she’d laid a dollop of minty Crest toothpaste on her blue toothbrush before doing the same thing to your red one, leaving it hanging over the edge of the counter.
The first time she did it, she’d hadn’t even noticed. It was only when she’d turned her mouth to catch the water under the faucet that she’d spotted your toothbrush that she’d set up, ready with Crest, as if you’d pop in any moment to stick it in your mouth and start scrubbing. Paige had almost choked on the water she’d been gurgling, grief worming its way up her throat and making it hard to breathe.
Heaving, she’d stood over the sink, hand gripping both sides of the counter to support herself until her knuckles turned white. It took all her strength not to buckle over from the precipitous wave of agony that had collided into her with gut-wrenching speed.
But for some reason, Paige had stuck your toothbrush under the stream of water then placed it carefully back in its cup. And so she’d made the same mistake the day after. This time, when she realized what she’d done, it wasn’t the weight of sadness that compressed her lungs, but a brewing storm of fury. Her vision had gone red, and she’d grabbed the toothbrush and hurled it against the wall as hard as she could, with a strength that she didn’t even know that she’d still had. And this time, when Paige stared at the toothpaste dripping slowly down the wall, mocking her as it made a mess on the floor, the counter couldn’t save her. She’d succumbed to the force of her fury dragging her down, and had crumpled to the floor, sobs racking her body.
The First Month
Your room was dark, in almost sub-freezing temperatures with the windows wide open to welcome in the frosty, bone-chilling winter air that Connecticut was known for. The only light in the room came from the dim glow of your laptop screen, opened live to the UConn women’s basketball game playing live on ESPN.
At first, you’d attempted to be nonchalant whenever Paige sunk yet another basket with ease, making the crowd and commentators going feral as she celebrated with her signature moves. But as the game between UConn and USC got closer and closer, you couldn’t help but smile when Paige crossed over her defense, sending them flying to the floor and leaving her wide open to score yet another 3. It reminded you all too well of the Paige you’d met and fallen in love with, whose confidence on the court had made you start viewing her as more than just your teammate.
But any trace of smile on your face quickly vanished once you watched Paige’s post-game interview during the livestream. “You’ve had quite a run this season despite being out for most of your sophomore and junior year due to injury. Who would you like to thank for your unpredented comeback?”
“I’d like to thank God. He’s been with me through everything, given me trials to test my resilience. In fact, he’s made me stronger than ever.” Paige had paused. You’d recognized her hesitance; the way she nibbled her bottom lip, her mouth half open as she debated a response, the uncertainty in her eyes as they flickered. But she seemed to recover from any reluctance, and what she said next made your heart drop. “I’d also like to thank my girlfriend, Leslie.” She motioned to someone off camera, and soon the frame was filled with tousled brown hair and soft green eyes.
Paige pulled her in close, and your world spun as you watched Paige, your Paige, press her lips against the brunette. Your hands had reached up to tear your headphones off your head, unable to further listen to the claps and hoots of the crowd along with the cooing of the commentators without feeling the need to throw up. But before you could, Paige had started speaking again. Your hands froze. You hated yourself for it, but you had to listen.
“She’s been with me through everything, from freshman year to now. She was my number one supporter when I got injured.” She wrapped her arm around Leslie’s waist, staring intently at the camera, and never before had you been this sickened staring at the blue eyes you’d once adored, could’ve spent hours getting lost in. “But even outside of my injury, Les has been on my side. Especially with all the immature drama that happened on the court last year, she was really a clear voice in all of that. So I’m pretty grateful for her.”
Leslie’s mouth split into a grin, and she turned to pull Paige in for another kiss, and that was when you slammed your laptop so hard that when you opened it the next morning, you were surprised to see that the screen hadn’t shattered.
You were not someone who cried. Your family members, your friends, Paige could all attest to that. But the torment that was clawing its way through your body, threatening to suffocate you, finally exploded. Tears had surged from your eyes, seemingly never ending, and you’d cried so much that night that it suddenly made sense why you’d almost never cried before; it was like all the tears in your life had been pent up, waiting for this moment, for when the pin fell.
That night was the lowest you’d ever felt in your life, and possibly even the lowest you’ve ever acted - blinded by a jealous rage over the girl that Paige had always promised you not to worry about, the girl Paige was basically making out with on live television just one month after you guys had broken up (and when it’d taken her two years to show PDA with you), you’d gone on all your social media accounts and blocked Paige on every single one of them.
Then an idea came to you. An act of retaliation that would hurt Paige as much as she hurt you. So you’d reopened Twitter, unblocked Paige. You’d scrolled until you found the perfect tweet. Your thumb had hovered for a split second over the like button, haunted by images of Paige’s hand trailing your stomach, her hair brushing your eyes, her mouth on your neck, before it was violently replaced by the image of Paige locking lips with the brunette flooding your mind, causing you to jam your thumb down with ferocity on the like button. You’d slammed the final nail in the coffin by deleting the app so that you couldn’t go back and undo your action before word got around to Paige.
The First Year
You thought you knew grief. You thought you’d familiarized yourself with every aspect of mourning: the realization in the morning, when your eyes open and you lose the blissful state of dreaming and you’re confronted with the harsh truths of the world. Or the late nights, when you’re restless and can’t sleep because of jealousy plaguing your mind. Even the deep longing of missing someone’s touch so bad that you swear that you can almost almost smell their perfume.
So you thought you knew grief - until your grandma died. It had been a matter of time. She’d had breast cancer, and for years now the doctors had been saying any time. But that still didn’t prepare you for the overwhelming pain that consumed all your senses, making it hard to think or eat or sleep or even breathe.
The first few nights after you received the news, you stared at the ceiling, unblinking until the early hours of the morning when the sun started creeping up through your windows. But you couldn’t even cry; you felt like a broken faucet. What the fuck was wrong with you? Sobbing over your stupid ex that you’d broken up with an entire year ago, but unable to shed a tear for your grandma, the woman who had single-handedly raised you. You were exhausted to the point of no return. When would everything stop hurting?
You’d only torn your eyes from your ceiling when your phone had lit up. It was 4 AM, and you wondered who it could be. You checked your phone, and every part of your body froze when you read the notifications.
TWITTER
From: paigebueckers1
I’m so sorry
TWITTER
From: paigebueckers1
I just heard the news
TWITTER
From: paigebueckers1
Don’t know if you’re even active on here anymore but it’s the only way I could reach you. If you see this, I just want to ask you to not keep your grief to yourself. Isolating yourself won’t make the pain go away. Make sure to talk to someone
Your heart had ached, your phone trembling in your hand. Because Paige had cared enough to send you a message, on the same app where you’d given the tabloids a wet dream and caused the UConn fandom to go into a spiral by liking a hate tweet about Paige. She’d cared enough to disregard all that to make sure you were okay. But she still hadn’t cared enough to offer to be that someone that she wanted you to talk to so bad.
So you’d left her on read, without responding. Had slipped back into your sheets, your head pounding and your lungs aching. This time the tears fell out easily.
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You still want me? (Patrick Zweig)
Description: Even after 13 years Patrick still wants her.
Warning: Smut
Word Count:2,288k
Y/N laughed at Patrick’s pathetic attempts to sleep with her. He tried every second he could. Art was always weirded out by it and gave him a look. Sure, Y/N was hot but she wasn’t an object for sex and that’s what Art thought that Patrick thought of her. Y/N rolled her eyes as they sat in their hotel room drinking. “Patrick, that was weak.” “Yeah, really.” Patrick glared at his best friend, “Like you could do better?” He asked, Art nodded. “I very well could but I have a girlfriend that I love so.” Patrick flipped him off and turned back to Y/N, “So where were we?” She laughed at his question. “You were trying to fuck me, I am trying to relax.” “Well I could help you relax more.”
These weak attempts to sleep with her went on for years. Art and Tashi rolled their eyes as he said anything and everything he could to convince her. She never said No but she never said yes either. She ended up going to a different college than Art and Tashi and since Patrick didn’t go to college he never saw her. It wouldn’t be until Patrick and Art were in the challengers that he would see her again. Tashi invited her as a surprise. Sure Art and Patrick were facing one another but they were still friends.
And Tashi knew how bad Patrick wanted her. Y/N was still super hot and even more mature now that 10 years have gone by. Y/N walked through the doors of the hotel that Tashi sent her. It was a nice one, a very nice one. She looked around and saw Tashi by the elevator. She gasped and waved as Tashi waved back just as excited. Y/N ran over to her and gave her a big hug, “Oh I missed you.” “I missed you too.” After their little moment they got in the elevator. “So how’s everything been?” Tashi asked. Y/N smiled and looked at her, “Pretty good.” “Have a boyfriend?” Y/N laughed at the question and shook her head No.
Tashi thought that was perfect especially for Patrick. As the exited the elevator to her room Y/N asked her, “So does he still talk about me?” Referring to Patrick. Tashi smiled, “Here and there. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.” Y/N smiled at the thought. She kinda missed all his horrible ways of trying to sleep with her. “They are currently practicing. Settle in some and we will go down there.” Tashi said.
They walked to the court were the two boys or now men practiced. Y/N smiled as Art came into view. He still looked the same, just shorter hair and more muscle. She then saw Patrick and dear god she couldn’t believe it. He had facial hair now and damn did he look good. Tashi and Y/N stood by the seats watching them. They hadn’t noticed that they were watching them until Tashi cheered, “Go Art!” “Go Patrick!” Y/N yelled and Patrick looked over at her and froze. “Y/N?” He whispered in shock. Y/N waved at him, he totally missed the ball and Art would have gotten the point. Art looked over and smiled at Y/N.
They both walked over to the ladies, “What are you doing here?” He asked, so happy to see her. “I came to watch you guys play.” He smiled at her words. “You two should catch up, Art and I are going to go.” Tashi said, dragging Art away. That was her plan the entire time. Get them alone and see where it goes. “So you wanna go over to the bar and catch up?” He asked. She nodded and smiled.
“So this is what you’ve been up to all these years?” She asked, he nodded. “Yup. Just Tennis.” “Sounds awesome. Art and you against each other? That’s going to be crazy.” She said, “ Yeah but you’ll be rooting for me.” He joked. She laughed and sat her drink down. “Maybe. How would your girlfriend feel about that?” He chuckled, “I don’t have a girlfriend.” Her jaw dropped. “What?” He asked, she shook her head. “You look like that and you don’t have a girlfriend?” “Look like what?” “Hot.” She motioned to him.
“You look hot.” God his younger self would be freaking out right now. Who was he kidding? He was freaking out now. “You think I'm hot?” He asked, scooting closer to her. “You’ve always been hot.” She said, looking at him. “Then how come you never slept with me?” He asked. She shrugged, “You just didn't have game.” She laughed. “What if I have game now?” She picked up her drink and took a sip of it without breaking eye contact. “You still want me? After all these years?” She asked. “Are you kidding me? Of course I do. A change of heart was never in my plans.” She turned to him, “Then I guess I’d have to sleep with you Patrick.” She said softly.
He walked her back to her hotel room that Tashi gladly paid for. She turned towards the man and smiled, “This is me.” She said and he chuckled. He turned towards her, “Just like old times, eh?” She laughed and shook her head. He always used to walk her to her room and then try to sleep with her as if he wasn’t already on the way to the room. “Pretty much.” He looked down and Y/N’s face dropped.
He hadn’t tried to sleep with her yet and it bugged her. She actually would right now. “Patrick.” She whispered. He looked up at her. “Come inside.” She told him. As soon as she got the door open he picked her up and turned her around, making her gasp. He pinned her up against the door. She stared at him wide eyed as he stared back. Her breathing started to pick up, her heart started beating. He leaned in slowly causing her eyes to wander towards his lips until they touched hers.
She kissed back and it felt amazing. Her hands wrapped themselves around his head and laced through his hair. He deepened the kiss, pushing her more against the door. Their lips moved against each other until the air ran out of their lungs. But even then when he pulled away her lips followed wanting more of the kiss. “Patrick, please.” She whispered. He smirked, happy that he finally had her right where he wanted. Her legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer to her. He chuckled and kissed her again.
He moved her away from the door and on the bed. They broke apart from the kiss again, this time to remove clothes. It was like they couldn’t get their clothes off fast enough. He pushed her down on the bed once they were bare. She fell back and looked up at him. He smirked as he ran his fingers up her legs to her thighs. Her breathing picked up as he neared her pussy. He decided to tease her and not touch her where she wants, no needs him. “Patrick, don't tease me.” She whined. “Oh I can’t tease you but you’ve been teasing me for the past 10 years?” He asked with a fake pout. She huffed out as he smirked.
That damn smirk, it was so sexy and perfect. He finally dragged a finger up her slit, causing her to moan. “Oh that sound was perfect.” He said and did it again. She moaned again. He decided that he wanted to hear more of her moans so he stopped teasing her and began rubbing her clit. The sweet moans fell from her lips as he toyed with her. Her hips lifting up trying to get more of his touch. He chuckled as he watched her do so. He got on his knees and decided he wanted to taste her. She felt his breath on her pussy making her lean up on her elbows to see what he was doing. He gave her his famous smirk before he gave her slit a big lick.
She gasped at the feeling of his tongue on her and that encouraged him to continue. Her hands laced through his hair as he ate her out. He was really good at it but he’s been with so many women so that didn’t surprise her. He felt like he had died and gone to heaven. This was his dream and it was coming true. “You taste so fucking good. Better than anything i’ve ever had.” He groaned. Her whines and moans got louder as the vibrations of his words went to her core. “Patrick.” She moaned loudly. He loved the sound of her voice especially with his name falling from her lips. When she came, it was a lot and all over his face. He lapped it up like a puppy dog.
She had to push his face away from how sensitive she was getting. Once she calmed herself from her orgasm she opened her eyes to see the man with a smirk and his face wet from her juices. She leaned up to his face and kissed him, moaning at the taste on his lips. His beard was wet with her but he didn’t mind one bit. Without breaking the kiss he crawled over her and hooked one of her legs over his hip. She gasped against his lips as she felt his dick run up against her clit. “I want you to beg for me to be inside of you like all those years I begged to be inside of you.” He said against her lips before moving down to her neck. She moaned lightly as he sucked on her. Her breathing is still not steady from her orgasm.
“Patrick please I want you inside of me.” She said, he hummed against her and pulled away. “I said beg not tell me.” He told her. She whined at the need for him to be inside of her. “Please Patrick, I want your big dick inside of me.” She begged, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “You can do better than that. Even I did.” She wanted to roll her eyes but held that back to beg him once again. Once again it just didn’t work causing him to laugh. Of course he wanted to be inside of her but he wanted her to want him just as much as he wanted her. “Patrick I want you inside of me so bad. I need it. I’ve always needed it ever since I've met you. Patrick please.” She whined. “Perfect.” He said before pushing inside of her. She moaned loudly. He was big, bigger than any other guy she’s been with. He cupped her face, “You feel fucking amazing baby. I’m right where I belong.” He tells her as he starts thrusting.
His words and praises made her wetter. So wet that you could hear it. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling of this moment. That was a mistake because the second he closed his eyes she flipped them over and now she was on top riding him. He let out a moan as he saw her tits bouncing. “So you wanted me to beg just for you to fuck me like that?” She asked. “I wanted you to fuck me Patrick, fuck me like you’ve waited 10 years for this pussy.” She said. “I have.” He groaned out. Her on top actually made this a lot better for him. He leaned up and shoved his face in her tits and she rode him.
Both of them making their own noises of pleasure. The feeling of his beard on her nipple tickled but she loved it. Her hands moved to his head to hold him there. She threw her head back and enjoyed the moment. It wasn’t that much time before she was clenching around him like crazy. He pulled away from her tits to look at her face. She opened her eyes to look at him. “Are you close?” He asked through a groan. She nodded and whined. “Yes.” “I want to watch you fall apart.” He told her. She whined at his words and her breathing picked up. She was so close to the edge.
He leaned back and laid down as he watched her fall apart. Her jaw dropped and she cried out cries of his name as he felt her drench his cock. Her eyes rolled back and her hips stuttered. She looked so fucked out and so beautiful. “Fuck.” He breathed out. She was still riding him, helping him reach his orgasm. He wasn’t a noisy guy during sex but she was making it hard. “Why are you holding back? You sound hot Patrick.” She told him, running her fingers down his chest. He started twitching inside of her. “Give it to me Patrick. Let go for me.” She said and he did what she told him to. He whined her name as he came inside of her.
She let him ride out his orgasm before she collapsed next to him. Both of them panting and sweating. He chuckled and looked over at her, “What’s so funny?” She asked. “I just fucked my dream girl.” “Well she fucked you.” Y/N pointed out. “Either way.” She turned towards him and smiled. “So now that you’ve fucked your dream girl, what’s next?” He pulled her closer, “I plan to wife her up.” He said and she smiled. “Your dream girl could get down with that.” She said to him with a laugh. He leaned in and kissed her, remembering to thank Tashi later for this experience.
#challengers movie#challengers 2024#patrick zweig#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig smut#patrick zweig imagine#patrick zweig x you#tashi duncan#art donaldson#mike faist#josh o'connor#zendaya
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AMERICAN GIRL (PART ONE)
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace's Stepdaughter!Reader
Warning: Grace is a bully, infidelity, taboo
On a brisk autumn day, you and your younger sibling Emma sailed into Liverpool harbor. You each carried a large, old-fashioned cart filled with towering brown suitcases, with a satchel casually slung over your shoulders.
The journey had left Emma exhausted, clinging to you as she marvelled at the unfamiliar sights of the port with wide eyes.
"I'm afraid," she confided in you, her words barely audible as they grazed your ear.
"I understand Em, but we have each other, and I will always look after you," you comforted her, putting on a smile. You promised to always take care of Emma, and true to your word, you have been her guardian angel since the day she arrived in this world.
Shortly after Emma was born, your mother sadly passed away due to unexpected complications during the pregnancy at her age.
It was a shock to everyone and left you to step into the roles of both mother and sister to Emma at the young age of 12.
Even in your youth, you held onto the hope that your father would one day find love again. Little did you expect that it would come in the form of Grace Burgess who was a young Irish woman with no money to her name after fleeing England in a haste. Grace had cleverly leveraged his wealth and power to her benefit despite their significant age difference.
Your father fell head over heels for her the moment he laid eyes on her at the corner grocery store in New York, just after your 13th birthday.
Their romance blossomed quickly, leading to marriage in less than a year.
At the tender age of seventeen, your father's love for her tragically transformed into heartbreak as she started a romantic relationship with a man from England - the very same man you were about to start living with.
Thomas Shelby was a name that sent shivers down the spine of those who knew of him - an enigmatic and formidable figure who held significant sway in the depths of England.
In the streets of Birmingham, he controlled his own illicit kingdom, bending the rules to his liking. And yet, your stepmother Grace couldn't help but be drawn to him, just as she had been to your father all those years ago when they first crossed paths.
Just before ending his life due to a broken heart, your wealthy father decided to cut ties with his second wife, leaving all his possessions to you and your sister for your 21st birthdays. This decision left Grace boiling with rage.
Soon after, she vanished to be with her lover in England and the two of you were forced to reside with a cruel family member instead as you had not yet turned 21, being the age of adulthood in America.
Within less than a year of living with this man however, you brought about his demise with a single bullet to the head, all because he dared to touch your sister Emma. It was in that moment that your entire world began to shift.
After a series of run-ins with the law leading to stints in juvenile detention, your father's lawyer came to the rescue, securing your freedom at the age of nineteen, albeit with the catch that you had to leave the country for good.
Of course, you gave your consent, but you were taken aback when it was revealed that your grandparents had struck a deal with Grace, out of all people, to care for you and Emma until you turned 21 and inherited half of your father's wealth.
What also came as a shock was the discovery that for the past two years, your family had been colluding with the Shelby Family, smuggling liquor into the United States without your knowledge and you knew that this must have been Grace's doing.
Grace had always been fascinated by the concept of wealth, much like your grandparents and uncle who shared her passion. Therefore, it didn't come as a shock to you when you recently stumbled upon the name 'Shelby Company Limited' in multiple transaction records within your grandfather's office.
While you understood the reasons behind everything relating to the business deals between your family and the Shelbys, the mystery still lingered as to why Grace decided to take you and Emma in after all the turmoil she had caused. After all, she had found herself entwined with a man of considerable wealth, so she had no need for the money that your family would have been willing to pay her for looking after you and your sister unless, of course, she was worried it wouldn’t last.
After two years had passed, this man still hadn't made her his wife, leaving you to ponder whether she harboured any doubts about his commitment to ever tying the knot.
Your stepmother may have been anxious about her partner abandoning her once the business arrangement in the US came to an end, a deal that she likely orchestrated and this, in itself, made you think that, perhaps, you would now finally have the upper hand.
As any young woman in your situation would, you nurtured a deep-seated anger towards Grace. She was the last person you wanted to rely on, let alone live with.
But you shoved those emotions down as you and Emma disembarked the large ship, weaving through the bustling crowd, ready for what lay ahead.
Just as instructed, outside the dock, you were greeted by a young man named Finn.
Finn, in his early twenties, extended his hand to take your luggage with a friendly smile as you approached.
"I am Finn, and you must be Y/N and Emma, right? Tommy has sent me to pick you up," he told you and Emma clung to you tightly, before peering at Finn suspiciously.
"Nice to meet you, Finn," you replied, offering a warm, polite smile.
Once your luggage was stored securely in the back of the Bentley, the three of you set off on the two-hour journey from Liverpool to Birmingham.
Emma's head rested on your shoulder as she slowly drifted off to sleep, her energy depleted from the journey, while Finn was attempting to make small talk with you while, occasionally, looking back through the rear-view mirror.
It was obvious to you that he had already taken a liking in you, but his youthful charm and charisma was not enough to sway you, not after everything that had happened in the past.
You acknowledged his attempts with brief responses, unable to fully engage in the conversation until he brought up the fact that you had killed a man.
"So, my brother mentioned that you had to leave New York because you killed someone. Is it true?" Finn questioned earnestly and without any filter whatsoever.
Your heart raced as you contemplated the best way to respond to his question.
"Yes, it's true," you finally admitted bluntly, looking straight ahead, not wanting to engage in a detailed conversation about it.
Finn, seemingly surprised by your response, paused before shifting the Bentley into a higher gear.
"Did you shoot him?" he asked, curiosity piqued.
You nodded, your jaw set.
Finn didn't press for more details, for which you were grateful. But you could sense his intrigue as he glanced at you through the rearview mirror.
Emma stirred in her sleep, mumbling softly, drawing your attention back to her peaceful face. You smoothed her unruly hair back, your heart swelling with protectiveness.
You would do anything to keep her safe. After all, you had already lost so much in your life already, so you could not lose her as well.
***
Eventually, the streets of Birmingham came into view, appearing as a striking contrast to the glamour and elegance of your hometown.
"Wow, this is different," you murmured to yourself, your gaze locked on the sprawling slums that lay outside the car window. There were workers fighting each other and whores selling themselves on the cobblestone streets, while children ran in all directions, many of them ragged and filthy.
"Don't worry. I am taking you somewhere nice," Finn assured you, seeing the look on your face and you could only hope that he was right, because if this was what Birmingham looked like everywhere, you wondered how you could possibly survive here for the next two years.
Despite Finn's enthusiasm, something about the place left you feeling uneasy, like a predator lurked in the shadows and you could see the appeal for criminals to operate here.
Before long, the Bentley turned into the private road of a luxurious home outside of Birmingham .
The driveway was long, shielded by trees, and it wasn't until the last bend that you caught a glimpse of the mansion at the end.
The house was stunning, with intricately carved mahogany furnishings, rich velvet curtains framing large bay windows, and marble floors polished to a high sheen.
The structure exuded opulence while maintaining a cozy air with its plush décor.
Upon arrival, Finn hopped out of the driver's seat and opened the back door for you and Emma.
You carefully stepped out onto the cobblestone driveway, feeling the weight of this new world pressing down upon you. Emma rubbed her eyes and slowly emerged from her drowsy state, taking in the splendor of the ornate mansion with fascination and open admiration.
Finn led you through the imposing oak door, which creaked slightly as he pulled it open. As soon as you entered, you were met with a grand foyer adorned with chandeliers that cast an amber glow upon the walls.
"You made it," Grace 's stern voice eventually echoed off the marble tiles, causing you to turn around.
She stood there in a long-sleeved maroon blouse and black pencil skirt, her piercing blue eyes sizing you up like some sort of puzzle she couldn't wait to solve.
Emma, seemingly intimidated by her appearance, slowly retreated behind you as Grace approached with determination.
"You look well, given the circumstances," she then said to you, her voice laced with a noticeable hint of sarcasm, causing you to roll your eyes.
"I was hoping not to see you again, but here we are," you murmured under your breath, drawing Grace's ire as she narrowed her bright blue eyes infinitesimally.
"You should be grateful that I took you in," she snarled sharply, causing you to chuckle.
"How much are my grandparents paying you to have us?" you said, unflinching, watching Grace's face for a reaction.
Grace's expression barely changed, merely raising an eyebrow as if amused before replying scathingly, "Nothing. At least not until you make it to 21, so you better behave,"
she warned.
You took a deep breath, realizing that this was not the time to engage in a war of words with your stepmother. You turned to Emma and noticed that she was trembling slightly and you could see the worry etched into her delicate features. You slipped your arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and offering what you hoped was a reassuring smile.
"Let's get you settled in," you said softly to Emma, who managed a weak nod in response as Grace turned and led the way down the grand hallway.
"The maids will show you to your rooms. You will be staying in the staffing quarters," Grace snapped as she pivoted and strode through an arched doorway, leaving you and Emma with two young women wearing crisp white aprons who appeared in your line of vision.
You watched silently as Grace disappeared before you turned to Emma, smiling despite the tension thickening in the air, and whispered gently, "She can't hurt us, Em. She needs us. So just ignore her."
Emma nodded slowly, but it was clear that she wasn't entirely convinced.
You couldn't blame her - the past few years had been nothing but a series of harsh lessons for both of you, leaving you both vulnerable and wary. But deep down, you knew that things would be different here. This was a new beginning for the two of you, away from the cold-hearted family members who had mistreated you, and into the care of someone who, while intimidating and unpredictable, was bound to follow your father's final wishes for financial reasons.
You were determined to make the best of this opportunity, no matter how difficult that might be considering your complicated history with Grace and, with that in mind, you unpacked your suitcases and settled in.
The rooms were modest but comfortable, with the staff quarters being clean and well looked after, much to your surprise.
Soon enough, your first day in Birmingham was drawing to a close and after you put Emma to bed, you decided to have a warm bath before venturing out to explore this somewhat opulent mansion.
You put on the satin robe which once belonged to your mother and strolled towards the grand staircase with bare feet, looking at all of the incredible paintings that lined the walls, showcasing various landscapes and portraits of people whose names you did not yet know.
As you reached the second floor, you came across a door which seemed slightly ajar and upon pushing it open, you discovered a library.
Your eyes widened at the sight of thousands of books neatly arranged on wooden bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling before, in the room next to it, finding a large piano.
You walked over to the piano and gently touched its surface, marveling at the intricate carvings before looking back at the books surrounding you.
The library was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards settling. You moved further into the room, running your fingers along the spines of various titles.
There were novels from authors you recognized like Charles Dickens, Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters but there was also an array of non-fiction texts ranging from science, philosophy to mathematics and history.
There was also a section dedicated to poetry where you spotted a few works by Lord Byron, Samuel Taylor Coleridge and William Wordsworth which intrigued you.
Despite the vast quantities of books in this room, the smell of old leather-bound volumes filled the air as if it was just yesterday when they were placed on these mahogany shelves.
Just as you were about to pick up a book of poetry, the door creaked open, and you heard a dark voice behind you.
"It's quite sad, really," the man said, his tone heavy with contempt. "The book, I mean," he clarified as you turned around, meeting the stranger's gaze.
"I am Thomas Shelby and you must be Y/N," he introduced himself, approaching you with a confident stride.
Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of the man who stood before you. He was handsome, there was no denying that, but it wasn't just his chiseled features or his magnetic blue eyes that caught your attention. No, it was the air of danger that surrounded him, like a cloud that warned others not to get too close.
You composed yourself, extending your hand towards him. "Yes, I am Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Shelby," you greeted him with a polite smile, determined to maintain your composure.
"Please, call me Tommy, eh," Thomas replied, his cockney accent more pronounced than you'd expected.
He took your offered hand, giving it a firm shake before letting go and stepping back to study you with his intense gaze which lingered a little longer on your bare legs than it probably should.
"Thank you for letting me and my sister stay here, with you," you said almost professionally , breaking the silence. You had to admit, Thomas was an intimidating man but you held your ground without flinching under his scrutiny.
"Well, it wasn't my choice," he chuckled. "Grace practically begged me and I find it rather difficult to say no to her these days," he admitted, his tone softening.
You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his candidness. "Well, my stepmother can be persuasive, I give her that," you told him while putting the book back into the shelf.
"You could say that," he replied, offering little insight into their relationship. "Do you drink?" Thomas asked in a manner so casual that the question caught you off guard, but your curiosity was sparked, and you wanted to know more about him. Despite his intimidating presence, he struck you as an intriguing puzzle you couldn't wait to solve.
"I wouldn't say no," you responded with a slight tilt of your head, smiling coyly.
Thomas chuckled at your response before turning around to pour two glasses of whiskey from a crystal decanter on the leather-topped table nearby. With an elegant grace, he handed one to you.
You took it with a slight nod, allowing your fingers to graze his before taking hold of the glass. The warmth spread from your fingertips and up your arm, causing a pleasant shiver to run down your spine.
"There you go, now you can keep me some company," Tommy said with a sly grin as he took a sip of his whiskey and sat down.
"Why don't you get Grace to keep you company?" you asked as you followed suit, feeling the alcohol burn your throat and spread through your body, warming you from the inside out.
"Because, by now, I would assume that she is sound asleep," Thomas replied, chuckling wryly.
"Well, it is midnight already, which brings me to the question of why you are still up," you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Because I can't fucking sleep, Love," he replied in a tone of voice that made your heart race, "there is always business on my mind, day and night."
You stared at him for a moment, contemplating whether or not to ask more about his life. After all, you had heard stories about Thomas Shelby and his criminal empire.
"Well, the booze doesn't export itself to New York now, does it?" you replied, a small smirk playing on your lips.
Thomas chuckled at your response, finding amusement in your wit. He appreciated a challenge - it was something he hadn't encountered in a while. Grace had always been so timid around him, obedient almost. But you, on the other hand, didn't cower in the face of his daunting presence.
"So you know what I do, eh?" Thomas agreed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "Did Grace tell you?" Thomas questioned, a slight glint in his eyes as he studied you intently. His gaze was unwavering, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort at his scrutiny. However, you refused to let him intimidate you, meeting his gaze head-on.
"Oh god no. My stepmother would not discuss matters like this, not with me anyway. She very much dislikes me," you told Tommy as he lid himself a cigarette, his gaze never wavering. "But I know more about my family's business interests than one might think," you admitted, reluctant to speak ill of Grace.
Tommy's lips quirked upwards before he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "That doesn't surprise me, Love. A little birdie has told me that you had some run ins with the law recently, which is why you are here now, in fucking Birmingham of all places," Thomas said, his tone laced with an underlying hint of mischief.
He leaned back against the leather armchair, his eyes never leaving yours as he took a long drag from his cigarette.
"Well, it's safe to say that I had made some mistakes in the past," you admitted, holding his gaze firmly. "But I had my reasons for doing what I did," you explained, and Thomas chuckled at your response, finding your confidence endearing. He had always admired a strong-willed woman - and you were undoubtedly that.
"We all have our reasons, Love," Tommy agreed, his tone softening.
You took another sip of your whiskey, the fire in your throat becoming increasingly comforting, and you let out a sigh. The truth was that you had always been impulsive, driven by emotion rather than reason.
You took a moment to gather your thoughts before speaking. "I suppose you're right," you admitted, swirling the amber liquid around your glass before raising from your seat.
"It's getting late and I should probably get some sleep," you said before thanking Tommy for the drink.
Your gaze lingered on him for a moment, studying his features as he did the same with you. There was a spark of curiosity between the two of you, but you quickly tried to push your intrusive thoughts away.
"Good night, Y/N," Thomas murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fleeting moment before you turned around and walked towards the door, hiding your body's reaction to his intense gaze.
"Goodnight," you replied softly, taking one last look at the library before stepping out and closing the door behind you.
You couldn't shake off the feeling of uneasiness that clung to you like a second skin. You shook your head slightly as if to clear the thoughts away, telling yourself that you were only imagining things.
But the way he had looked at you, the slight hint of something deeply sensual in his gaze, lingered and left you with a curious sensation.
You made your way to your guest room, undressing slowly before slipping between the smooth sheets. Emma was already fast asleep, her gentle snores barely audible as you switched off the bedside lamp. The room plunged into darkness, leaving only the faintest gleam of moonlight to cut through the curtains and cast thin stripes of silver upon the walls.
You stared up at the ceiling, the alcohol swimming lazily in your veins and causing your thoughts to swirl with unclear notions.
As much as you tried to fight against the growing allure, Thomas Shelby had intrigued you. There was no denying it. He possessed an air of mystery and darkness that called out to that impulsive part of you like a siren's song which was a part of you which you knew you had to suppress.
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Like A Moth To A Flame Prompts
“Let’s not imagine the worst, okay? For all we know right now, they could be harmless. A light bulb instead of a flame.”
“I’m not good for you.”
“I just want to be close to you. As close as you allow me to be.”
“Fuck. I’m so attracted to you right now.”
“No! I’m not doing this to myself again.”
“You’re my light.”
“I know I should stay away from you, but I can’t.”
“We both know you’ll be back for more.”
“You’re self-destructing.” “I’m enjoying the moment. Ever heard of that?”
“I can’t resist you.”
“Have you forgotten how it all ended last time?”
“You’re obsessed with me.”
“Why did you have to come back? Why? I was doing so well without you.”
“Stop looking at me.” “I can’t. And I don’t think you want me to either.”
“They don’t make me feel the way you do.”
“So? Guide me. Help me see.”
“I’m clearly not strong enough to leave you in the past. (So, you do it. Please. Leave. Set me free.)”
“You have too much power over me.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. I will hurt you, [name].”
“I got burned one too many times.”
“The only thing left of our relationship, [name], is ash.”
“I can’t continue on giving you everything. I– I deserve more.”
“You’re dangerous.”
“I don’t want for this to end the same way it did last time.”
“You were always on my mind.”
“It’s… different. With them, I spent most of my time longing for something that wasn’t even accessible. With you, I simply feel alive.”
“I can’t seem to think straight around you.”
“I knew this would happen. I knew, and I still came back to you like the idiot that I am.”
“But what if we don’t burn alive? What if we just burn for each other? Isn’t that a possibility too?”
#writing prompts#writing inspiration#like a moth to a flame#dialogue prompts#otp prompts#relationship prompts#angst prompts#exes prompts#post breakup prompts#writing ideas#prompt list
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—BLIND DATE
starring.ᐟ katsuki bakugou x reader
synopsis.ᐟ “a social engagement or date with a person one has not previously met.” After neglecting his personal life for so long, Pro-hero Dynamight, also known as Katsuki Bakugou, can no longer run form the inevitable. With the help of his nosy parents, Katsuki ends up on a blind date with you.
warnings.ᐟ SMUT, fem!reader, pro hero!katsuki, first blind date, drinking, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, overstimulation, creampie, biting, marking, hair pulling, pet names (excessive use of princess), slight man handling, bakugou is a softie at heart, praise, slight softdom!katsuki, breeding
word count.ᐟ 4.8k words
m.mutt 𐂯 please enjoy my brainrot!!
KATSUKI Bakugou was known for many things. His boisterous personality. His bulky, intimidating stature. His impressive and powerful quirk. His less than family-friendly language and his hatred of paparazzi.
You would think being in the spotlight since 15, he would be used to it at this point. Maybe even indulge from time to time but, it’s never been his thing. He makes that fact well-known, constantly. Written and spoken interviews, press conferences, and award ceremonies, he will remind everyone to mind their own business. Especially when it comes to his personal life.
New photos and videos always arrive of the hero, dressed in alleged disguise, flipping off and yelling at the paparazzi. Especially when they get too close to his family and friends. One of his most iconic videos is of his poor father attempting to calm down both his large, rowdy son and his equally rowdy, yet smaller wife.
This strong distaste for the prying eyes and cameras belonging to paparazzi, unfortunately, takes a hard toll on his love life.
Their obsession with publicizing his entire life has forced his hand in many situations. That and the exclusive life he is now forced to lead. One of the biggest downsides of being a hero is the increase in difficulty in your love life.
These few relationships he’s had have all ended one of two ways.
One, in a ball of fury and tears. As a pro hero, Katsuki is often spotted with many people. Typically, people he knows. In bars and restaurants, caught conversating and drinking. Those candid moments are always being televised, even without his knowledge.
Suddenly, his after-work drink with a few friends is skewed and Dynamight is allegedly dating pro-hero Uravity. Resulting in arguments and watching as his partners stormed away.
Two, the spark simmers out. Coming home to put on a front feels exhausting as the days tick by, they both know it. It’s only inevitable until someone’s bags are packed. They’ll cry, holding hands on his couch as he speaks. They’ll go for a hug, only to realize now isn’t the time and leaving is the better option. Soon his apartment is quiet again, leaving him alone.
All of it has turned him away from the dating scene. He’s young and green, with plenty of time to settle down. Except, the consistent pestering from peers, fans, and his own parents is draining. Balancing his hero life, personal and love life all at the same time, was nearly impossible.
“I’m not going out with some chick you designed a dress for!”
“Just give it a try, you brat.”
Katsuki groans, his head rolling back at Mitsuki’s pestering. They were currently sitting in his childhood kitchen, eating brunch as they usually did on Sundays. “You have no idea, you could find the love of your life!” His father chimed in, attempting to add support.
“Maybe you’ll finally give me a grandkid.” Katsuki cringes, shaking his head at his mother’s words. “Look, as your parents we just want what’s best for our little boy. Even if you’re a hulking mountain a man now.”
“I think you should give it a try, she was a sweet girl too. Very well mannered.” Masaru pipes up in Katsuki’s silence.
“Look, just give it a shot. I’ll give you her number and you two can work things out. If things don’t work out you can always try again.” She sips at her hot tea, eyes fluttering shut due to the steam.
“And if I say no?”
“Why do you have to be so incredibly difficult?” Mitsuki scolds as he swirls his spoon in his tea. “Why do you have to be so incredibly annoying?” He muttered followed by a swift pop to the head.
“Ow! Shit!”
That’s how he ended up in this high-end lounge, awaiting a random woman his parents vouched for. He nursed a glass of whiskey, looking over their messages on his phone. Their conversation was rather bland, nothing incredibly enticing but, everyone doesn’t connect over text.
After some time, from his spot at the bar, he sends her another text. It’s only fifteen minutes, there could be traffic. He closes the messenger, choosing to scroll through his social media feed. Occasionally, he lifted his head scanning the area.
It wasn’t a quiet night, the place was bustling with conversation and laughter. Twenty minutes late.
He sent another text.
Everyone is secluded in their worlds, eating snacks and conversing with their loved ones. Their loud conversations exceeded the confinements of their seats. Katsuki was growing impatient.
Thirty minutes late. He’s already attempted to call, being sent straight to voicemail. Was this a joke? Had his parents set him up for some reason?
Glowering red eyes linger across the bar, noticing a figure he had seen earlier. Dressed in a sleek, black dress and nursing a martini between manicured nails. And another text.
Each time he looked in search of his alleged date, his eyes wandered back over to you. Watching as you pitifully looked around, maybe in search of someone like him. His eyes shut as he grimaced watching you pout. Your full, glossed lips jutted out with sadness.
He goes to pick up his phone and sends another message before, shutting the device off. Nearly an hour and a half late, he wasn’t that desperate to pester someone who didn’t care.
“Excuse me.” He calls the bartender. It didn’t seem like this mystery woman would be appearing any time soon so, might as well take a chance. “Lady at the end of the bar,” He gestured toward you. “Another of what’s she’s having, from me.” The man nods, heading off to prepare the new drink.
Katsuki grins seeing your reaction. Confusion washed over your face for a moment before you were directed towards him. Eyes locking for the first time that night. You smile and wave, he reciprocates nonchalantly.
Soon, his whiskey is finished and another is placed before him. “From the lady.” The bartender smiles, pointing his gaze to you once more. You raise your glass in solidarity, your beautiful smile still on display. He raises his glass, as a sort of distant cheers, taking a swig right away.
He watches as your gaze falls to the background, peering around the dim bar before you rise from your seat. Katsuki anxiously shifted in his seat, unsure of where you were going but, his anxiety didn’t settle as you stride over to him.
“Hi.” One word and he’s hooked. Your melodic voice wrapping itself around his brain and heart. “Hey, care to sit?” He offers the seat beside him. “Gladly.” You’re nervous, curt responses give you away along with the slight tremble in your hand.
“What are you doin’ here, beautiful?” He’s starting bold, liquid courage providing him strength. “I was supposed to be on a date. He hasn’t shown.” He ashamedly smirks. “Funny enough, I got stood up too.” He down the rest of his drink.
“What’s your name?” You answer sweetly, a bright smile on your face. He shared it, almost subconsciously. “I’m Bakugou Katsuki—“
“I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. I’m surprised everyone is being so calm right now honestly.” You laugh and his heart skipped a beat, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a while.
“Places like these are used to seeing pros, they get over it.” He replies, leaning against the bar top. “Not every day one-half of the wonder duo walks through those doors.” You reason, a smug smirk on your face as if knowing you’d won.
“Touché.” You giggle, a sweet sound he yearns to hear again. “Did you enjoy your martini?”
“It was delicious. Thank you, again.” Well-mannered and gorgeous. “Anything for a pretty girl like you.” You flush, thanking him profusely. He orders you both another round, choosing to carry on the conversation.
As you two spoke he fell deeper and deeper into infatuation. “I’m the newest assistant for your friend, Chargebolt. This is only my third month at the agency and I’m tired.” You sip at your drink. “Really? Been so busy I haven’t had a chance to make the trip. Can’t be an easy job though, knowin’ Kaminari.”
“It’s not the most difficult task in the world but, I do have to keep my eye on him like a toddler.” You share a laugh at the comparison.
The conversation shifts to your personal lives. Lamenting on your lack of a love life, work beginning to consume your free time. How your close friends and family have urged you to get out of your shell. Which led to this night.
His hand lays over yours as he showers you with compliments. Deflecting anytime your humble attitude attempted to shut him down. He complimented your dress, you tried to brush him off claiming that the piece was old and unflattering.
“Well, I think that dress is absolutely stunning.” His hand grasps yours, and you reciprocate. “I should know, my ma’s a designer.” He’s almost smug in saying that as if his association with a designer made him the judge of all fashion.
“I’m aware, I’ve browsed her catalog since I was little.” The way your eyes light up talking about particular garments his mother fashioned that she always dreamed of owning. “I think you’d look gorgeous in just about anything.”
“Are you flirting with me Katsuki Bakugou?”
The question hangs in the air for a moment. The two of you leaning into each other's spaces unknowingly. He could smell your sweet perfume from her, the scent filling his senses. “I am, is that alright?”
“It is.” Your eyes flicker down to his lips as you lick your own before sitting back in your seat. Katsuki’s already hooked, still leaning into your space as if entranced by you. He leans back, stuck in an unfamiliar haze of attraction.
That haze seemed to slow the time as he checked his watch seeing he had been chatting with you for nearly four hours. It was dark outside, patrons still lingering in the lounge.
“Hey, it’s getting late.”
“Is there anything I can get you? A ride home? Maybe a nightcap?” The last part was slightly rushed as if he were embarrassed. “A nightcap sounds good, I’m off tomorrow anyway.” The wink you give him doesn’t go unnoticed making his stomach tighten. “Excuse me, can I close our tabs?”
“You don’t have to.”
“Please, let me. Besides that jerk should’ve been here paying anyway.” You sit in silence as he closes you both out of the night and thank him as he helps you to your feet. Bakugou drapes his big coat over your shoulders, holding out a hand which you graciously take.
The contrast of the warmth of the bar and the chilly night air flushes your cheeks. You’re thankful to the hero for his warm coat. “Your hands are really warm.” You mutter as you both stride down the sidewalk.
Katsuki’s notices before you. The stares. People turn to whisper to each other as he walks beside you. Soon, there are flashes and cheers of his name. He rolls his eyes out of annoyance, holding onto your hand tighter as he moves faster. “Can ya’ keep up, princess?”
A small swarm of fans and paparazzi crowd the couple, snapping photos and begging for an interview. He barks orders at them to leave you alone, keeping your face obscured from their ravenous gaze. You blindly follow, rather unphased by the crowd around you.
Before you, a sleek, exquisite sports car sat with flashing headlights. Katsuki opens the passenger door, still blocking you from view as he helps you inside. Once the door is shut, you’re concealed by his dark tint. “Can’t you guys just fuck off, for one night?” It was a rhetorical question, more to himself than the people around him.
He waves at fans along the street, ignoring the money-hungry reporters behind him as he opens his own door and settles into his vehicle.
“I’m so sorry.” He’s met with a soft laugh and a gentle touch to his hand. “Katsuki, I’m used to it. This is a part of my job too, I’m just more behind the scenes.”
“They’re just invasive,” The card engine roars to life, vibrating the interior. “Almost predatory. Going any length for a snippet of gossip.” He groans, leaning his messy blond head against the leather seats. “Bakugo—“ - “Katuski.” He speaks over you.
His head lulls to the side, his full attention on you. “Katsuki. I appreciate all you’ve done tonight.” Plump glossed lips upturned into a smile that melts his heart. “Consider it a late welcoming gift. You’re lucky, I usually send assistants gift cards to a spa.”
You both laugh, a break between the growing tension filling the cramped space of his car as you hold eye contact. His tongue darts to lick his chapped lips, teeth barely grazing the skin before he clears his throat and looks away.
“You sure you still wanna go back to mine?” He asks, buckling his seatbelt and you do the same. “Yeah, it’s just one drink.”
One drink.
Just one drink.
The phrase repeated in his mind almost the entire time. Your voice disrupting his thoughts the only thing keeping him from being completely silence. He drives you to his building. A large, clean structure. Covered in windows, and lights, and well decorated.
You don’t even need to enter the lobby. Katsuki leads you to an elevator activated with a special keycard.
After a short trip, the doors open to this grand place.
You find yourself in awe as you walk through his front hall. His apartment was massive and spotless yet, homey. Although he clearly preferred a more modernized look, it still managed to have the charm and personality of his childhood home.
“This place is ten times bigger than my apartment.” Katsuki laughs, taking his coat from you and hanging it beside the door. “I want to downsize, this was an impulse buy from when I first started. A financial disaster is what I refer to it as.” You giggle, he swoons.
The blond guides you to his kitchen, pulling out a stool for you to sit in at the island. “Are you hungry? I can whip something up.” He offers. “I thought I was just here for a nightcap, not dinner.” You joke, settling down in your seat.
“Well, I like a nice snack when I drink and a lady always deserves a nice dinner on the first date.”
“This is a date now?” You quirk a brow, still rather unsure of what to make of this evening.
“Wasn’t it always? We both had shitty dates who stood us up, we just found each other instead.”
“Yeah, then I guess it is.” You bat your lashes as silence falls over the kitchen for a moment. Katsuki clears his throat and smiles, moving away to gather something to eat. “What’re you making?” You ask seeing as he stands before the fridge. “Nothing.”
“Fresh bow of fruit, put it together today. I can get some crackers and wine, that work for you?” You nod.
“Could you grab the bottle off the counter? Don’t worry about a screw I’ve got one.” You help yourself to sort of peruse his kitchen, taking in little bits of his taste from the pictures and decor before returning the bottle to him.
Katsuki pops the bottle, pouring you both half glasses. You cheers, taking the first drink together and savoring the sweet taste. “I didn’t expect you to like sweet wines.”
“I indulge from time to time, besides it was a gift from my ma.”
“Aww, Dynamight the mama’s boy.” You giggle, grabbing a fresh strawberry and popping it into your mouth. “Oh hush, she gets these kinds of things for free and knows I’ll actually use them.” He’s close, using his elbows to lean on the counter.
“So don’t always do this?” You can smell his cologne.
“Do what?” He can smell your perfume.
“Being pretty girls to your apartment.” The scents colliding are an intoxicating concoction.
“Only pretty girls I like.” A strawberry is held cautiously between his fingertips, held between your space. “You like me, Katsuki?” A rather silly question on your part, he wouldn’t do this for just anyone.
“I do, princess.” He slowly bites into the juicy fruit, keeping his eyes on you.
The sudden bass and rap of his voice along with the intense eye contact fill you with a sudden wave of heat. The facade of small talk became harder to keep up.
It wasn’t long before Katsuki was brazen enough to lean over the counter and press his lips against yours. Your glasses of wine are soon abandoned, sloppily making out as you sit on his pristine countertop. He stood between your legs, hands crawling across your back and hips as you pant into each other mouths.
Soon, you’re both stumbling down his spacious corridor and into his dimly lit bedroom. He lets you go, turning to close the door as you take in your surroundings. Once the door is shut his attention is back to you, frantic hands roaming over each other skin, pulling at the almost offensive fabrics that keep your bodies apart.
Your clothes are eventually scattered among his own on the bedroom floor as Katsuki gently lowers your naked bodies into his fresh sheets. Cradling your head as he brushes his lips along your jaw and neck. You shiver under his touch, calloused hands running along your soft skin, cupping your breast, and rolling your hardening nipples.
You mewl under his touch, legs squeezing his hips to keep him in place. His teeth nip at your jaw, lowering to nip and suck marks into the skin of your neck. Your hips buck against each other, his hardening cock jumping against your dripping cunt.
It was becoming too much. you whine, pulling his attention away from your neck.
“What’s wrong, princess?” His words are followed by more gentle kisses. “Want you, ‘suki.” you pout, eyes watering dramatically. “You want more, baby?” You nod, lips still stuck in a pathetic-looking pout. His right hand moves to your jaw, pinching the bone between a few, thick fingers.
“Use your words.” His voice is strong, and commanding. Yet, loving and soft. “I want more, ‘suki.” He smiles at your muffled words and presses a wet kiss onto your puckered lips. “I’ll give you more then, princess.”
Your jaws sore when he lets go, the feeling of his fingers still remnant in their wake. Your legs fall slack as the blond kisses down your torso, from the valley of your breast to the bottom of your navel. He follows the trail back up and down once more, staring you in the eye.
His eyes shift down for a moment, a wolfish grin forming on his face. “You’re dripping, baby.” He cooes making your skin flush. another whine leaves your throat as you tear your gaze away, trying to focus on the ceiling above you. “No no, look at me.”
“Good. Look at me, baby.” His right hand moves from rubbing at your hips, to gently caressing your skin until his thumb lands on your clit. Your thighs quiver at the sudden contact, your gaze locked on him. Thumb lowers to collect the juices from your cunt, making a show as he brings the digit to his mouth to taste you.
You’re infatuated with the godly figure before you. His pale skin glistens with sweat, muscles unintentionally flexed as he lewdly moans around his fingers at your taste. “‘s so good, princess. You taste so fuckin’ good.”
He makes of show of it, wickedly at your already blissed-out appearance. “So damn sweet, soakin’ my sheets.”
Your eyes follow him as he descends between your legs once more, harshly biting the plump skin before soothing it with kisses.
You’re so caught in your own pleasure, the shock of his fingers prodding your cunt forces a gasp. His free hand moves your thighs onto his shoulders as he stares you down. “Can I?”
One thick finger breaches your cunny slowly, gently pushing in before pulling out. He follows the motions a few times, watching as you gush around his finger. Soon, another is added. Carefully, thrusting into your pussy as he presses kisses to your clit.
You writhe at his ministrations, fighting to keep your eyes focused on the man before you.
He sets a slow and mind-numbing pace, slowly thrusting in and out. The sounds of your slick coating his fingers and your breath moans a chorus to him.
“Yeah? Feel good, princess?” He teases, gaze fixed upon your pleasure-ridden face. Your mouth is agape as strained moans are pulled from your aching chest. He was breaking you apart in two fingers, stretching you open and preparing you for his cock.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight. Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy, baby? ‘M gonna stretch you open like a good girl deserves.” He declares, mainly to himself. Too lost in how your walls greedily suctioned his fingers back in.
Bakugou carefully leans down to lap at your clit, eliciting a soft cry and an arch of your back. He shuts his eyes as he savors the taste he was beginning to yearn for, suckling your poor neglected clit.
“Katsuki!” You shout, digging your nails into the pillow behind you. “Katsu—fuckk! Please, fuck me, baby! I need you so badly, need your cock so bad!”
He’s devoted to searing your taste into his mind. Messily coating his face and your cunny with a thin layer of wetness. Soon, he’s haphazardly withdrawing his fingers from your salacious cunt, against your protests to taste you further.
Spikes of blond hair bob between your legs, his tongue delving between your folds making you whimper and writhe. His hands grab a hold of your ass, holding you close to his face so you wouldn’t escape. Your back arches from the comforter, keening into his touch.
“God!” You cry as you fall back onto the sheets, fingers grasping for anything to clutch. His pace never falters, gratefully drinking your slick that spilled into his awaiting tongue, then swirling it around your throbbing clit.
“Kat—fuck! Baby—Katsuki!” Your body felt electric, an almost buzzing sensation that erupted from your pelvis and spread through your body. Your wanton moans are loose into the air, eyes shut as your head is tossed back.
You were a gorgeous statuette of pleasure.
You felt as if you bit off more than you could chew. Going out with a pro hero was already anxiety-inducing enough, practical criminal, allowing him to lure you to his apartment with promises of a nightcap, and now naked and wriggling beneath him was driving you to insanity.
And he's not even inside of you yet.
The maddening way his tongue circled your aching clit, inscribing his name into the bud. His blunt nails digging into the meat of your ass, keeping you relatively grounded. His tongue unrelenting stimulating your soaked pussy pushed you to your first orgasm.
A sudden wave of pleasure and the ever-growing pit in your stomach unravels through your body. You grip his hair, keeping Katsuki’s mouth in place as your hips buck into the pleasure. You loudly cry out his name, and a few tears roll down your cheeks as you cum.
He groans into your cunt, eyes rolling at the sweet taste of your cum. His hands rub your skin, easing away any pain left behind by his grip. Slowly, you open your eyes, chest still heaving.
“‘Suki,”
He pulls away, the lower half of his face soaked with slick and spit.
“M’yeah?” You can’t even think of what to say, just laying your head back to catch your breath. “You alright, baby?” You nod, still returning from your high. Katsuki crawls up to face you, a soft smile on his lips. “You look so pretty.” He cups your cheek, running his thumb along the soft skin.
“I want you to fuck me.”
He quirks a brow, a smirk on his face. “Yeah? I’ll fuck you, baby.”
“I promise, I’ll fuck you real good.” He captures your lips, sharing the taste of you once more. Your tongues are quick to entangle as you pant into each other's mouths.
Your fingers naturally gravitate to his blond hair, keeping him close as you kiss. Your bodies move together as you grind against one another, his hard cock leaking pre cum against your stomach. You’re both growing increasingly needier, rutting and panting like dogs in heat.
Katsuki breaks from the grinding, settling himself between your thighs. The tip of his cock pressed against your clit, spreading his precum as he teases you.
“You want it?”
“I want it, ‘suki.” His grin is wolfish at the nick, happily dragging his cock from your clit to press at your fluttering hole. He groans at the warmth and wetness, your dripping cunt already leaking onto him.
A pathetic high-pitched whine leaves your open mouth as his thick, heavy cock slowly bullies into your heat. Pushing deep into your plush, warm walls. Katsuki is slow, taking his time to ease you into the feeling. His lips are on your breast, kissing and nipping the soft skin.
“More, please.” You whine, your hands moving to hold onto his back. His hips increase in pace, still slow as you hiss once he draws back.
Katsuki slowly molds your tight pussy to his cock, stretching you open to only accommodate him. The sharp pain of your nails digging into his back only encourages him to thrust faster, making you cry out his name. Your cunt loudly gushes around his heavy cock, spilling syrupy juices down your skin.
“God damn, this pussy—fuck—you’re s’fuckin’ tight.” He grits out, grabbing your leg and pushing it back to the mattress. The change of angle causes you to lurch forward, your hands pushing at his shoulders. “Oh my god, Katsuki!” You shout, as his throbbing cockhead smushes against your cervix.
He’s back to sucking your tits, leaving spit-soaked freckled hickeys in his wake. You’re still adjusting to his size, the sudden change in position driving him deeper into your guts.
He’s pressed himself closer against you, his pelvis adding stimulation to your nice neglected clit. You throb around him and cry, fat tears slipping from your eyes. “Y’feel that, baby? I’m so deep in this pretty pussy. Y’feel me in yer tummy, does it feel good, baby?” You’re incoherent, only capable of breathless moans and sobs.
“You look so pretty, all fucked out ‘cause o’ me. Tell me, baby, do I feel good?” His hand cruelly comes down to press on the slight bulge in your stomach, causing your poor cunt to twitch around him. “‘s too much!” You cry out, pushing against him to no avail.
“Too much? You can take it, princess. Can’t ya’?” His pace suddenly grows rough, hips slamming into yours as he fucks into your cunny. He pressed your other leg to the mattress, forcing his cock all the way inside.
You’re mindless. Eyes rolled back into your skull, unintelligible moans and clawing at his skin. The rooms full of thick, humid air, the sounds of your squelching cunt, and a chorus of moans. Bakugou savors this image, in case he may never get the chance to see you again.
He caresses all of the right places inside of you, each thrust full of never-ending pleasure. His wicked tongue in your nipples and sinful roll of his hips push you to the edge. Like a burning fuse, slowly trailing all the way to a firework.
“Y’close baby? Don’t worry, you can cum for—fuck! You’re so fuckin’ wet—cum for me.”
Katsuki’s thrust increases to a maniacal speed, jostling you around his mattress without care. He was chasing his orgasm now, keeping you secure beneath he ruts into you. Heavy balls slapping against your asshole, the rough feeling of public hair against your soaked cunt. You can’t think let alone protest before he’s spilling his cum deep inside of your womb.
Katsuki keeps himself buried inside of you as he changes position, opting to hold you instead. You’re both panting as if you’ve run a marathon, hearts racing and skin coated in sex and sweat. You lay in silence, catching your breath for just a moment.
“Please don’t tell me you’re thinkin’ ’bout leavin’.” He mutters into your hair, rubbing your back. You breathlessly giggle against his chest, shaking your head. “I can’t feel my legs, Katsuki.” He smiles, cheering to himself.
“How about we clean up and get some rest? I’m beat.” A yawn cuts you off as you agree, alerting you to how exhausted you truly are. Katsuki kisses your forehead. “Get some sleep and tomorrow, we can continue this date. That sound nice?” You nod again, and slowly drift to sleep.
“Good. Stay here and look pretty, I’ll run a bath.”
#mzzledmtt!#mzzledwhines!#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugou x reader smut#katsuki bakugou smut#bnha smut#bnha x reader#tw.alcohol#tw.breeding
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Omg your amazing at writing Anthony bridgerton angst. Pls write more😫😫😫💋
You caused this? (Anthony Bridgerton x GN!Reader)
Summary: You are complaining to your dearest friend Anthony about your lack of luck through the seasons but he is terribly silent. His silence brings answers that you never expected from him.
Pronouns: You/Yours
Warnings: Angst
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N: Thank youuu!! Here's more for you my love! (Also for the new thing below this, tagging, you guys can be asked to be tagged in any sort of fics lol!)
Tagging: @etherynn
A stunning afternoon shone on the walking paths families decided to take for eloquent bonding times. Children were laughing, mothers were sending their daughters off to promenade with one another, and the men were keeping watchful eyes out. It was a perfect day for the courting season to bloom in its full beauty and potential.
It was lively around the grassy green parks where people conversated with each other, it was a lovely day.
Two of the people taking advantage of the wondrous day to promenade together were you and Anthony Bridgerton, the most inseparable friends in all of London. The two of you had been great friends ever since you were children, you had been there for him through the easy and the rough patches, and he had done the same for you. Neither of you questioned your roles in the other's life, you just fit together.
Anthony loved you dearly, you knew that. He treated you like his own sibling, sometimes you appreciated it, other times you had to give him a good wack for him to stop scaring the poor guests at parties you attended.
There was no need for that during this moment, no. There were only warm smiles, sweet treats, pleasant conversation, and why was that? It was because it was only the two of you, no one to interrupt, or drag you away.
Anthony walked with you along the path, holding his hand out when he reached the stony steps to the dock. You raised a brow and rolled your eyes, taking his hand with a playfully distasteful look on your face, causing him to chuckle ever so slightly.
You walked down the wooden planks of the dock, noticing how there were no boats out. “I wonder why there are no boats out when it’s such a beautiful day.” You hummed aloud, not really expecting any response to your comment.
Anthony looked around and shrugged, hands behind his back, “Would you care to go out on the water?”
“Oh, heavens no!” You answered a little loudly, a sheepish smile finding itself onto your face as you turned to face him. “I was simply expressing my passing curiosity.”
The Bridgerton shook his head and stood quietly, admiring how the waves rocked with one another. He thought of the water like a ball, each drop with its own partner to create a beautiful array of movement within the water, to create a somehow roaring image of tranquility.
You, on the other hand, adjusted your clothing and sat upon the wooden planks, smoothing out the fabric as you did so. You carefully took off your shoes and set them to the side.
“What are you doing?”
The sudden comment caused you to look up with fluttering eyes, “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Anthony walked a bit to you, looking down, “It looks as if you’re on the brink of putting your feet into the water.”
"A remarkable observation indeed," You responded sarcastically, a playful glint in your eyes. “I shall have to inform your mother that we have discovered you possess the brilliance of a prodigy.” You spoke, removing the last of any clothing surrounding your feet to enter the cold water. Once you made contact, you left out a soft sigh, your hands falling to the wood behind you, leaving you in a relaxed position.
Anthony sucked his teeth at your remark, but no one could mistake his mischievous grin for anything other than delight. “Let us not raise her expectations.” He mumbled to you with a shake of his head, kneeling to take off his own shoes, “She’s already enthusiastic enough about Daphne.”
You hummed, tilting your head over to him, squinting your eyes due to the bright sun. “Pray tell, how is the new Duchess of Hastings?”
The man rolled his neck a bit and sat next to you, dipping his feet into the water. His body blocked the sunlight so you had no need to squint as you gazed upon him, his eyes falling to yours.
He let out a huff with a toothy smile, “She’s gone away with Simon.” Anthony informed you, looking out to the water now. He adjusted the collars of his wrist as he took a deep breath, “She swore she’d write letters so…”
“You’re looking forward to them, do not deny it.” You told him, scrunching your nose as you bumped your shoulder with his.
He chuckled and nodded, “Indeed, I eagerly await her thought filled letters.” He told you before biting the inside of his cheek, his eyes still looking forward, but they were further than ever. “I never imagined I’d miss her presence so much,” He confessed, blinking rapidly, “her ceaseless ramblings about finding her soulmate are over now.” He whispered, clearing his throat, adjusting himself once more, “My little sister is now gone, and I won’t be able to protect her anymore.” His voice with loss, his fingers clasped together as if he was grasping for something.
You placed your head on his shoulder, “She’s still your sister Anthony, she will visit.” You reminded him, placing one of your hands on his thigh.
You felt the man take a sharp inhale of breath before letting it go slowly, “I know…” He nodded against you, placing his head over yours.
There was a moment of silence, the two of you kicking your feet in the water, enjoying the cool splashing against the warmth the sun brought.
You moved your head, looking to the families across the way, “Besides, there are plenty of others for you to protect, people still rely on you.” You reassured him with a supportive smile, remembering his other siblings, specifically his three younger sisters.
Anthony was not thinking the same as you though, he took his hand and placed it over yours, which hadn’t moved from his thigh. “Right, like you.” He smiled, rubbing his thumb along the edge of your hand.
You looked to your lap, laughing a bit, “I require little protection.” You muttered out, playing with a small string on your clothing.
Your friend furrowed his brows and scoffed, “There are dogs out there.”
“I mean, because no one approaches me anymore.” You spoke suddenly, looking at the water solemnly, lips in a frown.
Anthony's smile dropped, and he turned his head to you, “Pardon?”
You scratched your head with a breathy laugh, “No one wishes to marry me.” You said, tone in a light song, but you knew it wasn’t a light hearted moment. It was a harsh truth you never wanted to face, but you had no choice as the season continued on.
The Bridgerton shook his head though, turning himself to you, his leg propped onto the wood, only one foot in the water. “That is not true, many do.” He assured you, but you shook your head in response.
You turned your body to him, feet still in the water, “Then why has no one called for me in weeks?” You asked, shoulders dropping in defeat. “Why has no one proposed?” You asked another unanswerable question as you looked back to the water.
Anthony felt an uncomfortable feeling bubble up in his stomach as you spoke. His blood grew cold, his heart beat faster than ever, his throat felt dry as if all the saliva in his mouth suddenly disappeared. He was suddenly aware of everything around him, all the sounds, the feeling of the wood on his calf, the water rushing around his foot, how hot the sun was.
You didn’t notice his sudden silence, you didn’t notice his expression, you were lost in your own mind. “I just feel as if I’ll never find someone.” You muttered, looking out to the empty body of water, “It’s as if I’m being avoided, and everyone knows to do so.” You continued, feeling pricks from the wood in your fingers. “I wish I knew why I was being avoided, because I swear,” You sighed, “I would change what they don’t like about me.”
Anthony stayed silent but his eyes were filled with a deep sadness, his lips parted slightly, his hands clenching. He could feel his nails embedding themselves into his palms, leaving crescent shaped marks, his palms now red.
You looked back over to him, wiping your eyes that began to water, “I didn’t mean to ramble on…” You trailed off as you caught sight of his expression. “What is it?” You asked, concerned as he had never looked at you so…upset before.
He shook his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts, “Nothing.”
“Anthony, what is it?”
The tone of your voice was heartbreaking to him, you were really worried about him after telling him your concerns. He slowly turned his head to you, almost reluctantly, and looked into your eyes that shine with sunlight. He could see the reflection of the clouds in your eyes, and it made him feel worse than he already did. When he looked into your eyes, he knew he could not lie to you. So he took a shaky breath and whispered out the words, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” You answered immediately, confused by the sudden change in mood. You wished you had not spoken, perhaps if you kept quiet the two of you would be laughing and splashing each other.
There was silence.
“Anthony, for what?” You persisted, searching his expression for answers.
“I’m so sorry…” He continued to shake his head, gulping down his own breaths as if the world would run out of oxygen just for him. As if he was being tortured and couldn’t breath on his own. His grip on your hand was tighter than it had been, “I was just… I’m so sorry…”
His panic conveyed through his action, through his expression, through his words. You just couldn't understand why he was so anxious, why he was so scared.
Until you realized, he didn’t seem scared over whatever he did, he seemed scared for how you would respond. His eyes kept snapping to you before looking down, he continued to clasp onto your hand, he closed his eyes as if he was silently praying for a better outcome.
Your brows knitted together and your lips pursed, “Sorry?” You repeated his apology, trying to think of what he was so apologetic about.
Suddenly, all of the memories flashed through your mind, quick as ever. The balls, the sitting rooms, the lack of dresses you needed to buy… it was because Anthony had never left your side. You thought he was being supportive, letting you know who would be better than the other for your bright future, but no. He wasn’t helping weed out those who weren’t good for you, he was clearing the field completely, so there was nothing left. No weeds, nor even blossoming flowers that you would’ve loved to pick.
Until there was no one left.
You blinked rapidly as you thought about this, finally making eye contact, “You didn’t.” You breathed out quietly.
You were met with silence and Anthony's sorrowful gaze, already begging for forgiveness.
You tried to remove your hand from his grip, but he wouldn't let up. Once you finally pulled yourself away, you stood quickly, not caring for the water dripping to your clothing from your quick movements.
Your feet were wet, causing a dark spot to form onto the wooden dock. “Anthony, how could you?” You asked, exasperated, hands going to your face as you began to pace.
Anthony scrambled up himself, trying to grasp your hands, but you continuously pulled away, making him face your back. “I just wanted to protect you!”
His words caused you to seethe, protect you? How was he protecting you?
You turned to him, feet stomping once you were face to face with him, “You’re not protecting me!” You yelled, your volume caused him to fall back a bit, unused to your yells. “You’re labeling me as a…” You paused, taking a few small breaths, “bad contender.” You mumbled, clutching your chest, feeling your eyes begin to sting. You began to shake your head as you backed away, “At this rate I will not be married.”
“What is the fault in that?”
“What is-?” You laughed, honestly not believing that this situation was happening. Your hands were up to your head, clutching at your ears, pinching, praying that this wasn’t really happening.
Anthony Bridgerton, the man of the Bridgerton home, the man who almost forced Daphne to marry a man who wanted nothing good for her. Anthony Bridgerton who was to duel a man for his sisters honor. Anthony Bridgerton, the man who took the responsibilities of his father for his family, because he knew how important it was for women to be married in this world.
You stood straight, face contorted in anger, “You are well aware, as I am, that our society revolves around marriage.” You spoke slowly, “My family wishes for me to be married or I will be a disgrace.” You reminded him, tilting your head, mouth opened in another sense of disbelief. “How is it that you now fail to comprehend such a thing?”
Anthony nodded with your words, but it seemed as if he wasn’t hearing you at all, he was being so frustrating. “I merely believe that you should pursue your own desires.”
“You did not consult me on what I desire!” You yelled, drawing the attention of passersby. You looked down, frown on your face as Anthony waved them off with a smile. You looked back to him with a harsh, cold glare, “You acted according to your own desires, but for what purpose?”
He ran a hand through his hair before unbuttoning his vest and taking it off. Anthony felt like he was suffocating, and nothing was helping him breathe properly at the moment. “It’s because I hold deep regards for your well-being.”
You scoffed, “No one who truly cares about the other would do that.”
“I-”
You stopped him, holding up your finger, “No, you would never do this to Daphne.” You told him, causing him to fall silent. You could hear the harsh gulp he took as you continued. “You endeavored to secure a match for her, so why must you subject me to this treatment?…” You trailed off, turning away once again before turning right back to him, “You repelled every potential partner.”
Anthony didn’t make eye contact, he just mumbled out, “I have my reasons.”
“Please, list them.” You ordered, trying to meet his gaze, “For it appears that you do not wish the best for me.”
That sentence brought him out of his thoughts, that sentence made him realize how you didn’t realize the true intentions of his actions. “I care deeply for you!” He spoke a bit loudly, “It is inexplicable, I can not put into words my concern for your future.” He continued to speak, and you were quiet, waiting for any valid reason, because you wanted to forgive him, you did. “I truly believe that none among the ton is truly suitable for you.”
You blinked at him, “No one of the…” You just stared at him, “You…what?”
“Please understand.”
Oh, you understood just fine. You crossed your arms with a raised brow, “No one but you, I assume?”
His eyes widened and he shook his head quickly, “That is not what I mean.” He spoke, breaths quickening as his thoughts swirled through his mind.
“So you harbor no romantic sentiments towards me?”
“If that is what I implied, I apologize.”
You nodded, poking your cheek with your tongue, “Then why do all this?”
You were met with no response, so you continued, walking forward, poking his chest with your finger. “If you do not love me,” You began, “also being you do not wish to court me,” you clarified, tilting your head with a blank expression, “then your actions are malicious.”
Anthony shook his head, cupping your hand in his, “They are not, they are in good health.” He tried to convince you, but you wouldn’t budge.
You pulled your hand from his grasp, “Is the idea of courting me so revolting to you that you must scare off all contenders with your jealousy,” You backed away, hands up, “and leave me as a spinster for the entire court to laugh at?”
“It was not my intention.” Is that all he could say, it was not his intention?
“Then what was your intention?”
He sputtered and babbled out a response, but it was stutters of the beginning of sentences he would never finish. The only thing his pieces of words could convince you of, was that he had no idea why he would do such a thing.
“Was it your intention to prompt me to recognize deeper emotions for you?” You asked him, and he continued to knock his brain for some sort of response that he couldn’t give you. “Well?”
The Bridgerton man put his head down, hands over his face before they went to the back of his neck, “I thought,” He spoke, dropping his hands to his sides, “if we spent more time together as if we were courting-”
“But we are not.” You interrupted with an obvious stare, “You are not courting me, you do not wish to court me Anthony.”
He nodded and clapped, eyes wide with promise as he strode towards you in a sudden burst of excitement. “But perhaps, if we acted as such, we could discover the wisdom in such an action.” He spoke, nodding along with his own words, “It is smart, surely, you see it through my perspective!”
You chuckled because, what else were you supposed to do at the sudden idiocy that escapes a man's mouth? “Anthony, this is not business.”
“I understand that,” He told you confidently, “but, consider the mutual benefits it could offer us.”
You chuckled once more, taking a step back with a shocked smile, “I don’t care if marrying you would take the trouble from my family for thousands of generations, Anthony.” You explained, waving your hands in a large ‘no’ motion. “I would never marry you!” You told him harshly, the words engraved in the air as a promise.
Anthony's eyes dimmed, his breath pausing as his shoulders began to droop, “Why not?”
“For the same reason you will not court me.” You answered, rolling your eyes a bit.
He didn’t understand so he stared at you expectantly, “Which is?”
You couldn’t believe he wasn’t aware of why he wasn’t courting you, why your marriage would never work. Since he couldn’t understand such a simple answer, you stepped forward, staring him into his eyes. His brown eyes looked at you, searching for answers.
You shook your head lightly, “ Anthony, I feel nothing when I look at you.”
Time has stopped completely for Anthony Bridgerton. You spoke the words so easily. He felt everything move so slowly, to the point he didn’t even realize that he stopped breathing. He didn’t stop staring at you until you waved your hand in his face to capture his attention.
“Is that why you think I won’t court you?” He whispered to you, face falling.
You scoffed, again, at how he wasn’t understanding the conversation. “Wake up, Mr. Bridgerton!” You yelled, the first time you’ve ever used the title. “You just tried to propose a business deal with me, knowing that I have a better chance with any man over you.” You explained, hands falling to your sides as you paced across the doc, the man standing still, facing the same direction he was before you moved. “Yet, you still sabotaged any chance for me this season, and I will end up alone due to your selfish actions!” You spoke angrily, nostrils flaring once you finally looked at him again.
His eyes were the only thing that followed you, “I..I don’t…. I wasn’t thinking of-”
“You’re right!” You told him, clapping at his realization. “You were not thinking, which is exactly why you ruined everything for me!” You yelled, voice feeling strained due to the emotions you were currently feeling. “You ruin everything because you do not think.”
Anthony wiped his coming tears, opening his mouth for another apology.
You stopped him immediately, “I am utterly sick of every apology that leaves your mouth, because you do not mean it.” You spoke, not letting him speak any further.
You walked to the steps that separated the dock from the walking paths, “Goodbye Mr. Bridgerton.” were your final words before you left Anthony near the water.
He couldn’t say anything else, his gaze was trapped on the wooden flooring of the dock. What had he done? Why does he feel his heart squeezing every time he takes a deep breath in? Why was everything spinning?
More importantly, why did he do something so stupid, and push you away?
#Anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fic#angst#infinite imaginings
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tom riddle. | you don’t have to do this
summary: you and tom have endured seven years of ignoring your feelings for eachother for mattheo’s sake, and simply just can’t do it any more. it’s wrong, we shouldn’t be doing this type of trope.
word count: 1.2k
tags: nothing just a lot of angst and mentions of fighting (tom and mattheo), tom and reader kiss at the end. collective yet suppressed pining.
notes: this started out as headcanons and turned into something way longer (story of my life?). i need this as an entire proper fic, this is simply a concept for the time being.
————-
okay so like we all know about the cold, emotionally detached tom riddle—but what about the tom riddle who has been secretly harbouring feelings for you for years? the tom who has kept these feelings hidden because his brother, who has always been open about his affection for you, feels the same way.
what about tom riddle who has watched mattheo hit on you every single fucking day for 7 years and has found himself on the brink of bloody exploding because even though you reject mattheo every single time, the silent torment is unrelenting, and there’s always the gnawing chance that maybe one day you won’t turn him down.
what about tom riddle who forces himself to be distant from you, abruptly severing any tutoring sessions or any other individual interactions that might put you in close proximity to him because he needs to purge these feelings for you yet every goddamn moment near you makes it fucking impossible to do just that.
what about tom riddle who intervenes when you're all gathered in the common room on a friday night, drinking, to tell mattheo to lay off as he continues bugging you after you’ve told him to go away ten times over.
of course, you and mattheo always bicker and banter in a lighthearted manner. mattheo has been in your life for seven years. he’s your bestfriend. you love him, just not like that. never, like that. he just doesn’t know when to relent.
what about tom riddle who doesn’t dare meet your gaze as he succeeds in getting mattheo to leave you alone, fearing the admiration in your eyes would linger in his peripherals, infiltrating his mind and haunting him when he tries to sleep at night. he’d keep his sights glued to his brother, not breaking away until he’d lost him in the crowd, before he’d retreat himself, as well, without saying another word.
what about tom riddle who finds himself intervening more and more frequently, unable to endure it any longer? as though the flood gates were now wide open and he just simply couldn’t stop himself? as though he could sense the shift in admiration you had for him. as though he knew this is what you needed.
what about tom riddle, who knows his brother is harmless, yet simply can't refrain from getting increasingly more irritated with him every time he brings you up until one day it erupts into a full-blown fight in the middle of the common room as mattheo starts to grow suspicious about tom’s intentions, fueling the tension between them to its breaking point.
now, what about you, who watches this entire thing unfold, torn between feeling bad for mattheo and suffocating admiration for tom? you don’t know why tom has suddenly decided to intervene so often, but there’s a knot in the pit of your stomach every time you look at him, and the fact that he doesn't dare meet your eyes only intensifies it.
you’ve always harboured secret feelings for tom, but you could never act on them, knowing it would shatter mattheo’s heart. (more like his ego. we all know this boy would be sleeping around unfazed while still trying to pick you up. he’d just be pissed you chose tom over him.)
what about tom riddle who swallows the pit of guilt lodged in his throat, deep down feeling terrible for what he just did as he goes to brush past you to clean his knuckles up in the bathroom, tensing as tight as a coiled spring when you suddenly stop him with a gentle hand on his arm—a silent exchange of knowing admiration immediately passing between you.
little did you know, the second he met your eyes, the second you touched him, it was over for him. regardless of how cold and indifferent he was coming off. internally, he was in flame. clinging to the very last tattered strings of his resolve.
now what about you, who immediately senses the guilt in tom’s eyes and feels a sense of resonance? you, who is riddled with your own layers of guilt—for being the reason they fought, for not reciprocating mattheo’s advances, for desiring his brother instead, and for the very move you were about to make just now as tom’s eyes dipped over your lips, lingering there for far too long.
“let me help you clean up…it’s the least i can do…”
what about tom riddle who would nod silently, outwardly reluctant but internally eagerly willing, following you out of the common room and into your dorm— sheepishly tracing after you as you lead him to your bathroom, internally counting the number of tiles lining the floor or the seconds between each breath he took—anything to distract him from the intimate proximity he found himself in with you just now.
he had to keep it together. he shouldn’t be here.
and what about you, whose entire body is vibrating, hands trembling slightly but enough to be entirely noticeable as you patch up his knuckles—avoiding looking up at his face as he grimaces from the sting of the cleaning solution, your focus solely on the task at hand.
you, who nearly jumps out of your own skin as he speaks to you for the first time in what has felt like ages.
“you don’t have to do this, you know…”
“and you didn’t have to fight your brother…”
“fair point.” he’d chuckle. fuck, you’d missed that. “mattheo just wouldn’t leave it alone.”
“he hasn’t…for seven years.”
he’d hum a nod. “he’s obsessed. no one can blame him.”
you, who involuntarily looks up, unable to stop yourself now, your heart pounding like a wild animal desperate for release. the room suddenly feels stifling as he looks down at you, meeting your eyes, your mind swirling with thoughts of how badly you want to kiss him, how utterly wrong it would be to do so, and how much it would piss off mattheo. you’re fighting to decide if you even care.
“hm,” you should play it off, but you can’t. “care to elaborate?”
tom riddle who has to fight the urge to reach up and grasp the back of your neck and pull you into him, his fingers practically twitching with the desire to close the gap between you. tom riddle who is merely inches away from you, battling every instinct urging him to give in. he can see it in your eyes, the longing, the desire mirrored back at him. he can practically feel it in your touch.
“all the guys are obsessed with you.” so quiet you almost missed it, so gentle it almost tickled. “you’ve always had that effect. you’re fucking beautiful.”
his eyes are on your lips now and you’re trembling, stomach doing cartwheels. you go to break eye contact but his hand reaches out and cups your cheek, stalling you in place.
it’s wrong. this is wrong. “i…”
“hm?” he tilts his head.
“tom…”
his thumb ghosts over your cheekbone. his eyes don’t know where to land. “don’t act like you don’t have feelings for me…i see it…”
you shudder, scorching under the heat of a thousand suns. gods, you want this. youve fucking dreamed of it. but you can’t, you can’t do that to mattheo, it’s—
“it’s wrong…he’ll be furious…”
tom riddle who intently observes you as you tremble under his touch, your nerves palpable through your skin. tom riddle who finds it almost relieving, to see you like this— as though this is a confirmation of his hopes and suspicions, a validation of the effect he’s always hoped he’d have on you. tom riddle who agrees with you, who knows exactly how fucking wrong this is, but after seven years of suppressing it—doesn’t know how much he fucking cares anymore.
tom riddle who, in this moment, wants to do so many fucking things to you he doesn’t even know where to start.
his hand slides lower, his thumb grazing your jaw. “he’s tried, for so long, to get your attention…and he’s never gotten a damn thing from you…”
his hand shifts again, his thumb reaching for your bottom lip, tracing it and tugging on it gently. you’re in shambles, barely breathing, oxygen fleeing the vicinity and being replaced by suffocating desire, tom’s lips being the only reprieve in sight.
“but look at me…” he continues. “i do one thing, and you’re on fire.”
tom riddle and you, both on the verge of falling apart, unable to contain yourselves any longer. you don’t have to say another word as your eyes lock and you move in perfect synchrony, crashing your lips together with an urgency that speaks of years of pent-up desire.
it’s as if the world would end if you didn't, as if you were determined to make up for seven years of denial and restraint for mattheo’s sake and just indulge in each other for once. your kiss is filled with thirst, hunger, and unbridled passion, evident in the way your fingers dig into each other, as if to confirm that this is real, that it's not just some dream.
#i’m not fucking breathing actually i think im deceased yes i am a ghost#tomriddle#tom riddle#tom riddle x you#tom riddle x y/n#tom riddle x yn#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle x oc#tom riddle smut#mattheo riddle#mattheoriddle#mattheo riddle x y/n#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo#riddle smut#riddle brothers#slytherin boys#slytherinboys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin#harry potter#tomriddle smut#tomriddlesmut#tomriddle x reader#mattheoxreader#mattheo riddle x reader
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you’re doing it wrong
summary: lando x tennis player!reader - in which you’re fed up of your boyfriend playing padel - 1.7k words
a/n: as a tennis girly, pickleball and padel for me are triggers lol (i’m joking), but fr though, i love this! also i use a babolat pure aero if anyone was wondering (no one will, but whatever lmao)
warnings: none, just fluff
smau + real life
face claim: emma raducanu bc yes
y/nl/ntennis
y/nl/ntennis enjoying break, ready to be back in rome! 🧡 📸 @landonorris
liked by wta, landonorris, and 7,138 others
big3stan so ready for rome open tbh, can’t wait for her to win!
liked by y/nl/ntennis
y/ntennis lmao not the evian ad
↪ wtagirly ikr at least our girl’s making cash while playing piano
landonorris i feel neglected
↪ y/nl/ntennis i was going to post you but then SOMEONE decided to play padel
↪ gamesetace standing up for tennis 🙌 what a queen
papayagoals aww i love the orange heart for lando, y/n is glowing!
liked by y/nl/ntennis
you stared at your boyfriend in disbelief. “since when did you want to start playing tennis?” you questioned with narrowed eyes, dubious.
“well,” lando started, scratching his neck. “mclaren saw your post, and then after the interview, they want to film a video of you and me playing tennis.” you rolled your eyes playfully at him.
“i knew you wouldn’t want to play voluntarily,” you scoffed. “you and your stupid padel. what’s next, pickleball?”
lando placed a hand over his heart. “wow, y/n, words hurt,” he pouted.
“truth hurts,” you deadpanned. “c’mon, why are playing everything except my favorite sport?” frowning, you gave him puppy eyes.
“ugh, fine,” lando sighed, caving like you knew he would. “i’ll try to enjoy it. you’re lucky i love you.” you clapped your hands together happily.
“then we need to pick out outfits!” you cheered, making lando groan. “oh shush, you dress all fancy for golf. hell, you even made a golf quadrant line.” that shut him up.
you picked out some of his golf clothes that were suitable for tennis, and then you changed into a nike set of a top and shorts since they were your sponsor. you tossed lando a hat and grabbed a visor after putting your hair up into your signature braid.
as you grinned in the mirror, lando leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek. “i love you in your tennis outfits,” he smiled.
when your mouth curled up into a smirk, he realized his mistake. “well, if you played tennis with me more often, you’d get to see it more,” you responded.
“i set myself up for that one, didn’t i, love?” lando muttered, pecking your lips. you gave him an innocent shrug, as if you had no clue what he was talking about.
“anyways,” you said, grabbing your babolat bag and tying your nike sneakers. “let’s go. don’t want to keep mclaren waiting.”
«⁂»
when you arrived at the courts, you beamed at the filming crew. “wow, i love these courts, mclaren chose well,” you gushed.
“thanks,” the cameraman nodded. “i’m luke, and that’s bill.” you nodded at them, shaking their hands. after, they turned on the camera, not wanting to miss a single moment.
“it’s a lovely day,” you smiled. “perfect conditions, nice hard courts, what more can you ask for?”
lando snorted. “barely five minutes in and y/n has already started geeking out,” he commented, facing the camera.
“as if you wouldn’t geek out if someone mentions f1,” you retorted, playfully swatting his arm as you took out your racquet, a babolat pure aero. you handed your boyfriend one of your many racquets as he scrunched his nose up in disdain.
“do i have to use the same as yours?” lando frowned, making you roll your eyes.
“yes, your majesty,” you replied sarcastically. “it’s the only model i have because that’s how tennis works.”
“damn, no need to come at me, sweetheart,” lando responded evenly, a sweet smile on his face. you scoffed, a smile faintly on your lips. he knew that you couldn’t stay mad with that pet name.
“okay, so let’s warm up first,” you explained to the camera. “i do some jumping jacks, high knees, side shuffles, karaoke step, and some footwork drills as well as stretching out my upper body.” you pointed at lando. “follow what i do.”
“yeah, yeah, boss me around, why don’t you,” he mumbled, but a mischievous grin stayed on his face.
first, you did some jumping jacks, high knees, and light cardio exercises. then, you turned around and faced the net as you side shuffled. “lando, c’mon,” you sighed as you turned back, seeing his gaze snap up to meet your eyes, a light blush tinged on his cheeks as he gave you a smug look, knowing damn well what he was doing. from one doubles sideline to the other, you two side shuffled before transitioning into karaoke step. “here, i’ll go slow, lan. follow me, and don’t fall.” you slowly stepped over, letting lando copy you before speeding up.
“how?” lando asked, shocked. “you don’t fall over?”
“tennis players need really good footwork,” you told him, stretching out your arms and back. “alright, i think we’re ready to start with half-court.” you picked up your racquet, grabbing a ball and bouncing it on the strings.
“wait,” lando said to luke. “can you pause real quick, mate?” you gave him a confused look as he leaned down towards you, eyes wide with anxiousness. “promise you won’t judge me or anything if i’m really bad.” then it all clicked for you.
“so that’s why you won’t play with me?” you asked, expression softening at his genuine fear.
“i- yeah,” lando nodded, seeing no point in denying it. “i know how much love tennis, but if i’m really bad, i dunno, i just thought that maybe you’ll see me differently.”
“aww, baby,” you cooed, resting your hand on your boyfriend’s cheek. “i’ll love you no matter what. you could be the worst tennis player in the world and i’d still love you. and you’ll do great. tennis is a hard sport, so obviously no one can get it on the first try. but i love you, lan. not how well you hit balls.” he raised an eyebrow at your wording, but leaned into your touch.
“thanks, y/n,” he smiled, pecking your lips. “i love you more.” he turned back to the camera crew only for his jaw to drop in utter shock. “you were recording the whole time?” your hand flew to your mouth, laughter erupting as you watched lando’s eyes widen in panic.
“babe, they- i can’t believe it,” you wheezed, clutching your stomach. “oh my god, this is amazing.”
“now the whole freaking world is going to know what just happened,” lando whispered, glaring at your laughter. “whatever, let’s just play.”
you showed lando the basics: forehand, backhand, and the motions, guiding him through it. his cheeks were pink from your constant grip on his arm, showing him the swing. soon, he was able to get the tennis balls over the net. “that’s it, lan!” you cheered as he hit another one over. “now we can rally.”
you walked to the other side, gently feeding a half court forehand. you watched as he hit it back, a proud smile on your face as you hit a backhand, careful not to put spin on it. “hey, i think i got the hang of this,” lando grinned before promptly hitting the ball into the net. “dammit, i jinxed it.”
“don’t worry,” you smiled. “let’s go full court now.” the two of you hit a few, lando picking the skills up very quickly. you showed him your serve and decided to use more force, smirking as the ball sailed past him.
while you two took a water break, luke and bill told you that mclaren had also gotten a ball machine, making your face brighten. “really?” you exclaimed. “that’s perfect!”
you brought the machine out, setting it up before you stood on the opposite side of the net, bouncing on your toes. it fed out balls as you hit them with your full match-level power, lando’s eyes widening at the speed. after the machine ran out of balls, you headed back to them, wiping the sweat of your face with a sweatband.
“babe, that was incredible,” lando told you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “how do you hit it so fast?”
“training,” you deadpanned. “now, you think you had enough for today?” lando gave you a nod.
“yeah, today was nice, as much as i hate- ow! i mean, as much as i love to admit that you’re right, tennis was actually pretty cool,” he answered, rubbing the spot on his ribs where you had elbowed him. “maybe we’ll have to play again sometime soon.” your mouth stretched into a victorious grin as you turned to the camera.
“you heard it right here, everyone,” you said with a smug expression. “lando norris is a tennis fan now. thanks to mclaren for doing this, and hopefully see you next time!”
“that’s a wrap!” bill nodded as you started packing your things up.
“thanks for giving it a try,” you beamed at lando. “it means a lot.”
“you’re welcome,” lando replied with a cheeky grin. “also, i’ve decided. i’m going to watch you in rome. i mean, i’ll be in imola for the race anyways, so i can be there.” your face brightened.
“you mean it?” when he nodded, you pumped your fist. “it’s been so long since you’ve come to one of my matches. ooh, i need to introduce you to everyone. thanks, lan.” you slipped your hand in his, smiling as you walked back
y/nl/ntennis
y/nl/ntennis we did it!! @landonorris has been converted into a tennis fan 💞 new @mclaren video spilling the details 🤭
liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 9,625 others
landonorris yeah yeah 💖💖
↪ lanpastry pls they’re so cute 🤧
mclaren thank you for the content! 🧡
y/nfan OMG THE VIDEO GUYS, IT’S TOO CUTE
↪ papayaorange that sweet moment was too much, i’m sleeping on the highway tonight
↪ formulerone and not lando getting exposed by mclaren - “you were recording the whole time?”
landynando lando actually playing tennis was not on my bingo card
forzafans NOT THE LAST PIC HELP 💀
↪ wimbledumb REAL LIKE BRO TOOK THE PADEL PERSONALLY
wta new tennis power couple?
↪ novakthegoat wta what are you doing here 😭😭
↪ y/nl/ntennis lmao i wish, alex and katie would have nothing on us
↪ katiecboulter oh really? are you sure about that?
cocogauff aww cute 😍
↪ landonorris help y/n i don’t know anyone
↪ y/nl/ntennis oh my god do you not watch tennis at all?
↪ landonorris no who do you think i am? i only watch your matches 🫶
↪ y/nl/ntennis baby steps ig ily lan 🧡
#papayadays#f1#lando norris#ln4#formula 1#papaya writes#mclaren#lando norris imagine#lando x you#lando norris x reader#lando x y/n#lando x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando imagine#mclaren f1#f1 fanfic
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