#{ lmao sorry }

[outromoonyy]

Omg look who at pride

[leoandreeda]

Showing here my feelings towards him *pets his bald head*

[landosaints]

confidence ; lando norris

with a breakup still stinging your conscious, you find solace in the attention of a handsome stranger at a party.

STARRING -> lando norris (ln1) x reader

WARNINGS/TROPES -> fluff, strangers to lovers, love at first sight, party setting (again..), some profanity, suggestive (only if you squint!), reader is freshly single, lando asks reader for consent while dancing, kissing!!, skinship, pet names: babe (reader)

ARI SAYS -> there will be a day where i write a lando fic that doesn't include a party setting BUT today is not that day!! excuse the way this fic ends up going...i've seen too many edits with this song and i have an idea blooming JUST for lando 😛 maybe carlos or lewis will come next...who knows?

ARI'S PLAYING -> confidence, kim

WORD COUNT -> one thousand two hundred and fifty-two (1,252)

the smooth bass of a french song you can't understand comes over the speakers, and the crowd goes wild as couples split up and start to sway with each other.

your glass of lukewarm water sits untouched in your hands, and your throat burns with embarrassment as the couples melt into each other as if they were made for it, swaying with the music and each pulling their partner into their own little love-infested world.

that used to be you, just a week ago.

your ex had left you for another girl with a measly 'this isn't working out and i'm sorry' text, blocking you shortly afterwards before even giving you a chance to text him back and ask what you did wrong. it stung, and all of your friends knew it, doing their best to encourage you to get out of your house and go out and "live a little".

which, in turn, brought you here—to a party that felt more like a massive wedding for every couple in your city.

eyes scanning the dark horizon only lit by blue-green stage lights, your eyes are caught on a particularly attractive man. he's wearing all black, fitting perfectly with the mood of the body-packed room.

a silver chain glints around his tanned neck, and his white, backwards cap only highlights the near perfect structure of his face. he's quietly observing his surroundings too, eyes darting between couples before they stop on you.

his eyes are on you.

your face flushes in giddy excitement as you glance away, throat closing in nervousness before you dare to look back. the man is still looking your way, a faint smirk on his lips now before he excuses himself from the conversation in front of him, plowing through the crowd to meet you at your spot at an empty table.

"hey," he has an accent that you're one-hundred-percent sure doesn't belong in your city, but it's charming anyway, instantly drawing a response out of you.

"hi." you sheepishly reply, and the man lets his eyes wander over you for a split moment before he remembers where he is, drawing his gaze back to your face.

"wanna dance?" he's innocent with the way he asks the question, and you find yourself nodding before your mind can really think about what you're doing. the mysterious man smiles, reaching out for you as you take his hand.

he leads you to the dance floor, professional in the way his hand rests on your lower back as if he's known you for months. he finds an empty space somewhere in the front of the dancing crowd, turning you around to face him before he speaks again.

"is it okay if i hold you?" the man raises his thick eyebrows in concern, blue-green eyes softening as he awaits your response. you nod, too surprised to give a normal response before you remember yourself. "yes—yeah...it's okay."

the man nods once, gently placing both of his hands on each of your hips. he holds you firmly, hands warm and seeping through your clothes as he starts to sway.

you stiffly follow, not used to moving this way. you never danced when you went to parties, let alone with another person. the song itself was something you never danced to before either, and a chuckle escapes the man before he smiles at you.

"loosen up, babe. no one's gonna bite your head off if you move your hips a little," his tone is light, teasing, and the simple pet name makes your heart do a flip in your chest.

"i don't even know your name and you're laughing at me now. how am i supposed to loosen up?" you laugh awkwardly, and he chuckles again, sighing as his lips kick up into a pleased smirk.

"i'm lando." lando tips his head to you in greeting, and he adds, "plus, i'm laughing at you because i find it how adorable you are, waddling like a baby penguin or something."

that makes you even more flustered than you think you already are, swatting lando's arm as if you've known him for more than fifteen minutes. "you're a jerk."

"i'm being this way because i think you're cute, and you make me nervous." lando's voice takes a serious tone, and it makes your body warm as he leans in a little.

the nervousness and awkwardness you felt before melts away into something completely new and unexpected, and before you know it, you're swaying in lando's hold like you have nothing to lose. the pulse of the song matches the way you move against him, distance almost non-existent as you let your arms drape over lando's shoulders.

his breath chases your lips, just inches away from you as his eyes search yours. he's breathing heavily now, and you are too, face warm and body too excited to stop. the music is in both of your veins now, replacing your heartbeat with each other's footsteps as he sighs.

"can i kiss you?" lando asks breathlessly, and you nod, unable to form words. he understands the action without a split second to waste, lips instantly crashing on yours as he pulls you to him.

lando is practiced with the way he kisses you, biting your bottom lip like he knows what he's doing. you're so desperate for more of him, you move your hands to cup lando's face, pulling him closer to you as you bend back.

"god, babe," he sighs breathlessly once you pull away, and you let lando run his thumb over your kiss-swollen lips before he speaks again. "where have you been all my life?"

you roll your eyes, shyness coming over you once again as the french dance track fades out into something else. "do you know how cliche that sounds?"

"i do! i still mean it, though." lando shrugs, boyish grin making your heart flutter yet again as he pulls you to him. "who taught you to kiss like that?"

your mind flashes a memory of the first kiss you shared with your ex, and lando must be able to read your expression like an open book, eyes flashing with regret as he frowns slightly. "touchy subject?"

"yeah, just my ex." you force out a laugh that sounds way too bitter to be kind, and lando reaches out to cup your cheek, lips downturned. "fuck, i'm so sorry. i hate him already, and i don't even know him like that."

you can't help but laugh aloud at the absurdity of lando's sentence, shaking your head in disbelief. "that makes no sense."

"it makes plenty of sense. he hurt you and ignored your worth like it was nothing to him, and it instantly labels him as a dick."

the statement makes your cheeks warm in admiration, and you smile bashfully, reaching out to place your hand on lando's forearms as you tilt your head to the side. "that's really sweet of you."

"i mean it. and i'm not just saying that because i like you." lando adds, and you flush an even deeper red, echoing his words. "you like me?"

lando nods as if its the most obvious thing in the world, eyes softening as he grins. "i do. i like you a lot."

"well...i like you too." you respond, finally feeling the confidence you were missing before a certain handsome stranger asked you to dance with him.

(spoiler: the stranger's name is lando.)

arinote: my fics keep getting longer and longer and idk why 😭sometimes i struggle to get more than 500 words on a post but then i have moments like this where i can't stop writing.....likes and reblogs are always appreciated though! i hope u enjoyed this fic 💗

[cranberrycrane]

aw hell nah what is bro playing

[gutsssee]

You drew Gyro so beautifully! 🥹❣️ Do you think Johnny cut his hair? 🤭

no💔

[dipperscavern]

thinking so heavily about cregan stark and his stretch marks. places where skin had to split to accommodate how fast he was growing, and they've now settled into pretty silvery lines that adorn his shoulders.

more importantly, thinking about you seeing them for the first time.

maybe its a quiet night. one where his eyelids are heavy from the day, and he doesn't give any thought to it when he slips off his tunic, revealing pretty pretty stretch marks across the expanse of his shoulders. only you haven't seen them before, and you can't help but look.

he's attentive, and feels your eyes on him rather quickly - but he doesn't try and hide himself from you.

no, it's quite the opposite. he wears that small smile that gives warmth to his features and offers his hand when your gaze drops to the floor. you glance, taking it, trying not to give too much thought to how much bigger his is than your own. you couldn't if you tried, for he pulls you to him only a split second after you slip into his hold.

you're shy when you meet his eyes, still. he doesn't move, or question you, only waits. he waits patiently for you to take what you want; he stands before you offering it.

you recognize it quickly, and though tentatively, you stretch a hand out nonetheless. your touch is featherlight when it lands on his skin, and goosebumps rise at the feeling. it makes his head swim, and he'd let himself get lost in it if not for what catches his eye.

it takes only a glance from him to see that though you can, its still a bit of a reach for you.

he's attentive. he notices.

so, he reaches for your hand on his shoulder. he's gentle, he always is; but firm. grounding. he removes your hand from his skin - although reluctantly - and leads you to your shared bed.

you share countless thoughts during the steps it takes to reach it. had you crossed a boundary? not given thought to how he might be sensitive about them? perhaps they're a thing he wishes not to share with you? you can't say you'd be upset. you think they're beautiful, but even as cregan proves day by day he's not like most men, you can't help but think how all men do have subjects they're touchy about. perhaps this is- perhaps they are your husbands subject.

when you both stop in front of the bed, he brings your hand to his mouth and presses a warm kiss to your knuckles. it's a sweet, comforting thing, that douses the fire of worry you felt only moments ago.

this is cregan, you remember. he pats his horse before and after his rides, and only talks to you in this special tone you haven't heard him use with anyone else. he gives you his hand even if you're only walking up a stair or two, and gives you his arm to hold even more often than that. he hangs onto your every word and kisses your hair whenever a pretty frown pulls down at your lips. he's not touchy about his stretch marks, and even if he was, he wouldn't make the fault to be your own.

he proves it when he wordlessly encourages you to sit, and once you do, he does something that makes your lips part.

he kneels.

there's no hesitation in his action; like he made his mind up the moment your gaze regarded him with that awe. he bends and tucks his head in your lap and practically offers you a terribly personal piece of himself on a silver platter. he gives himself to you in this moment, and you receive him with all the quiet warmth and wonder he knew you would.

one of your hands cradles the back of his head, the weight of him gorgeously heavy in your lap. the other is gentle where it connects with his shoulders, fingertips roving over and collecting the feeling of every stretch mark he's adorned since his youth. such a human thing, it is. he's beautiful, you think.

the texture of them is foreign, but supersedes a different form of familiarity in the way they're a part of him. they and you are not so different - both his permanent components. what trust he has in you to be so vulnerable. and what trust you have in him to be so willing.

nighttime unfolds itself onto the sky. he gives; you receive. is there a more sacred dance between two?

no, you don't think there is.

[pitip7652]

Here, have some goatmura and enjoy

They're hotter than an oven

[faesaints]

" camera, flash, action "

synopsis; your very first sextape ! nothing better than experimenting new things, right?

characters; dean × male reader

warnings; smut, slightly kinky, consensual, mdni, pet names, dunno' what else to put here 🔥

note; posting drabbles, i actually like this one :/, not bad but still can get better . (english s'not my first language)

beautiful borders credits!! ; @cursed-carmine & @uzmacchiato

it's been a while since the winchesters met bobby's kid, a couple years younger than sam, and much more fun to joke around with, especially when bobby and sam leave the both of you alone to do research on their own . as dean's particular opinion, you're 'funnier', goes with a bunch of his best ideas ever. this goes straight to the situation you're both into now.

you both are panting restlessly, but just one is smirking for the past twenty or so minutes (you surely know who). your body's over bobby's desk, books and books of lore scattered around it since you pushed them away in regard to open some space for a greater reason. the corner of the dark wood is painted in white striped from the cum still leaking out of your hole, you chest pressing against the dark surface, ass up, face down - classic one, dean's favourite. he gave you the priority of making yourself comfortable while he recorded everything with one of the old cameras sam used to catch ghosts on flash, but this is a way better use of it. one hand firmly grasping at your hair, pulling you closer while he pounds each time harder, his moans mixed with panting, self-satisfied scoffs, one's that just gets you more annoyed (and slightly harder).

"smile for the camera, sweetheart" he pushed his hard, sloppy cock all the way up before getting the camera closer to your face, capturing a moan slipping through pouty lips that refused to do as commanded, eyes glassy staring at the camera before he repeated the same intensity of the thrust. you forced a weak smile. dean smirks, moans spilling out from himself lowly, dark as the shadow of you two doing such profanity over your father desk. your body is about to give in due the approaching release, but dean's free hand keeps holding you together until he fills you on the best angle he could. "you- mmnhg - you're the worst.." you whisper between hushed breaths, his hands working fast to position the camera on your left so he could capture the exact movement your body jerks, your neglected,throbbing cock spilling white over the wood table and clenching your walls so hard it milks the shit out of him with a big, satisfied growl following each final hit. "who's the worst now, luv?" he teases you one more time before turning off the video, pleased to get you into such perfect masterpiece of his own.

dean leaves a small trail of kisses over your shoulder, arms enveloping you by the waist once the camera is forgotten aside. "you liked it, and you know it."