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ch0llies · 12 days ago

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EARNED IT | MATTHEW STURNIOLO. PT.3

read pt. 1 and pt. 2 here

brothersbestfriend!matt x innocent!reader

You're an 18-year-old high school senior, the innocent little sister of Matt's best friend. Which means off-limits in every way.But 22-year-old college hockey player, Matt can't ignore the way you cling to him, asking dangerous questions with trusting eyes. You don't understand the fire you're playing with- but Matt does. And he's burning to teach you what happens when you get too close.

story warnings: fingering in public, talk of religion, lowkey corruption kink (if u squint), brothers best friend, pet names (sweetheart, angel), age gap (four years), etc. all characters are of age. If any of these topics upset you...don't read!

word count: 5k

ib: @ariestrxsh's young god

The glow of morning sun filters through your sheer white curtains. You stir beneath the covers, your body still plagued with sleep, stretching slightly as your fingers blindly search for your phone on your nightstand.

Your screen lights up with unread notifications, but one in particular makes your stomach flip.

Matt.

You rub your eyes, still groggy, and slide on your glasses before clicking on his name. Your heart stutters when you see the unread message- an attachment.

A video.

Your brows furrow as your fingers hover over the screen. Matt never sends you videos. Hell, he rarely ever texts you.

You tap it.

And the moment the video starts playing, you freeze.

The dim glow of the bathroom light casts sharp shadows across Matt’s bare chest, his abs flexing, his head tilted back slightly as he breathes heavily.

Your breath catches.

You don’t understand what you’re watching at first.

His hand is wrapped around himself, moving in long, languid strokes. His muscles tense and flex with every movement, his lips parting slightly as a low, wrecked groan slips past them.

You swallow hard.

His pace picks up, his body shifting slightly, his grip tightening as his head tilts further back, exposing the sharp line of his throat. His abs tighten, his thighs tense, his chest heaving with every ragged breath.

“Fuck, Y/N-”

Your eyes widen, your stomach flipping so hard it makes you dizzy.

That was your name.

He moaned your name.

Your thighs press together instinctively, a warmth curling deep in your belly as the video continues.

You can’t look away.

Matt’s body jerks, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his groans deep, strained, desperate. And then he tenses completely, a sharp, shuddering breath leaving him as his muscles lock tight.

And then- release.

Your face burns, your entire body flushing hot as you watch the final moments. Watch as his hand slows, his stomach slick and messy, his breathing uneven, his body wrecked.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you clutch your phone, your breath short, shallow, confused.

Because you don’t know what you just watched.

But you know it made you feel something.

Something warm.

Something needy.

Your thighs squeeze together again as you stare at the screen, your lips parting slightly as your chest rises and falls unevenly.

Your heart pounds against your ribs as you stare at the screen, completely dazed, your breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.

Matt had sent you this.

On purpose.

Your body is warm, restless, tingling with something, something you don’t quite understand.

You knew this feeling when you were around Matt and when he would touch you. But you’ve never felt it… by yourself.

Why did he send you that?

Your thighs press together again as your stomach flutters, heat pooling low, spreading through you like something dangerous. You can still hear him. Can still hear the way he moaned your name, the way his breath stuttered, the way his body shook before he-

Your face burns.

Your fingers tighten around your phone as your mind races.

You remember how he made you feel.

Your stomach twists, heat curling low, and before you can think, your free hand drifts lower, ghosting over the hem of your oversized shirt.

Your breath catches as you shift beneath the covers, slowly spreading your legs, mimicking how you had been sitting when Matt was between them the night before.

You don’t know what you’re doing.

But you try anyway.

Your fingers skim down your stomach, light, tentative, tracing the same path his had.

Your breathing hitches when you reach the waistband of your underwear, fingers slipping just beneath, barely brushing over the heat between your thighs.

A soft, startled gasp leaves your lips.

It’s warm.

Wet.

You pause, blinking up at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling in uneven bursts.

That’s what he said, right?

“When you get wet, my dick gets hard.”

You shudder.

Your fingers hesitate, hovering, remembering the way Matt had touched you, the way his nose pressed into you, teasing, flicking, rubbing-

Your stomach tightens as you try to mimic it, pressing the pads of your fingers against the same spot.

Your body jolts.

A soft, breathless whimper escapes before you can stop it, your legs twitching, your thighs clamping slightly before you force yourself to relax.

Your head tilts back against the pillow, your lips parting as you try it again. Slower this time, circling, teasing, just like Matt had.

The sensation is foreign, but intoxicating.

It’s not nearly the same- not as strong, not as overwhelming as when he did it- but it’s good enough.

Your breathing stutters, your body tense, restless, aching.

Your hips shift, pressing into your own touch, trying to chase that unfamiliar pleasure that still lingers from last night.

A soft, helpless moan spills from your lips.

Your entire body locks up.

You slap a hand over your mouth, your face burning, your heart pounding wildly.

Did you just-

Did you just moan?

By yourself?

Your legs press tightly together, heat surging through you as your chest rises and falls in quick, frantic breaths.

You don’t understand what’s happening to you.

But you know one thing for sure.

Matt was right.

It does feel even better than being on fire.

You’re still catching your breath, your body burning, heat thrumming low in your stomach when-

Knock, knock, knock.

Your entire body flinches, legs crossing together out of Instinct.

“Hey! We’re going to church and then out for breakfast before we leave tomorrow. Get dressed!” Your brother’s voice is muffled through the door.

Your eyes widen, panic shooting through you as you scramble to sit up, gripping your sheets with trembling fingers.

“O-okay!” you stammer, your voice too high, too breathless.

There’s a pause.

“…You good?”

Your face burns.

“Yeah!” you blurt, way too fast. “I-I’ll be down in a sec!”

Another pause.

“Alright… just hurry up.”

His footsteps fade down the hall, and you collapse back against your pillows, mortified.

What the hell just happened?

Your phone is still beside you, the screen dimmed but still open to Matt’s text- the video.

Your stomach twists, and you shut your phone off immediately, as if that’ll erase what you just did. As if it’ll make the ache between your thighs disappear.

It doesn’t.

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You take off your clothes and grab your new ones, slipping into the delicate white floral dress, the soft fabric brushing against your thighs, followed by a light blue knit cardigan that falls loosely around your shoulders. The combination is sweet and innocent and soft.

The opposite of what you had just been doing.

You slide on your usual thigh-high socks before grabbing your coat, bundling up for the cold. A few final touches- light makeup, soft curls in your hair, glasses perched on your nose- and you almost feel normal.

Almost.

You take another steadying breath before stepping out into the hallway and making your way downstairs.

The second you hit the last step, you freeze.

Matt is already there.

And he looks straight out of a magazine cover- navy sweater, loose-fitting light-wash jeans, white sneakers, his hair slightly messy but effortlessly perfect. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, hands in his pockets, looking so casual, so smug, so completely unaware of what he’s doing to you.

Except you know he’s aware.

Because the second his eyes land on you his lips twitch.

His gaze flickers down your frame, slowly, taking in your soft outfit, the way your sweater hangs off your shoulders, the way you can’t even look him in the eye.

His smirk deepens.

You swallow hard, suddenly hyper-aware of everything. The way your body still tingles. The way your cheeks burn just from standing near him. The way your thighs press together on instinct, as if your body remembers everything he made you feel.

And Matt? He knows.

His smirk turns into something wicked, knowing, teasing.

“You get my text?”

Your entire body locks up. Your breath catches, and you snap your eyes up to his, your face burning, heat rushing straight to your cheeks.

“M-Matt,” you hiss, voice barely above a whisper, panicked.

He just grins, tilting his head slightly, leaning in a fraction closer and invading your space.

Your stomach flutters violently.

“What?” he murmurs, so smug, so amused. “Just making sure you saw it.”

You swear your heart is going to stop.

“I-” You fumble over your words, completely flustered, gripping your cardigan tightly in your fingers.

Matt leans in even closer, just enough that his breath brushes your ear.

“Did you enjoy it, angel?”

Your stomach drops. Your thighs press together even tighter, your body betraying you.

C’mon, let’s go!” your brother calls from the front door, already halfway out toward the car. “We’re gonna be late if you two don’t hurry up.”

You jump, your stomach still twisting from the way Matt’s eyes haven’t left you.

You chance one last glance at him, still leaning against the counter, still looking so smug, so entertained by your reaction, before you force yourself to move, tugging your coat around you as you step outside.

The cold air is sharp, stinging your cheeks as you make your way to the car. Your brother is already in the driver’s seat, and you barely register Matt sliding into the back before you’re climbing in as well, pulling the door shut behind you.

Your brother doesn’t seem to make a big deal out of it since his hockey bag was in the passenger seat.

“Dude, you know you could’ve moved it?” He turns back and asks Matt.

Matt simply shrugs and buckles his seatbelt. “Seemed like too much work. Plus I thought we were late.”

Your brother simply nods and turns back, starting the car.

The drive is quiet- at least, for you.

Your brother is rambling about something, half-paying attention to the road, while Matt sits next to you in the back seat, far too relaxed, his arm casually draped over the back of your seat.

You don’t even realize you’ve been fidgeting with your hands in your lap until Matt murmurs under his breath-

“You nervous, angel?”

Your entire body locks up.

Your head snaps toward him, your breath catching in your throat.

“I-” You shake your head quickly, too fast. “No!”

Matt just smirks, his eyes heavy-lidded, unreadable, like he’s playing a game you don’t even understand yet.

You swallow hard, facing forward, ignoring him, ignoring the way your thighs press together again, ignoring the way your body still buzzes from the memory of his video.

Once you arrive at Church, the three of you settle into one of the long wooden pews. The service was already starting, the soft hum of hymns filling the high-arched ceilings. You sit at the end, Matt next to you, your brother on his other side, flipping through the program without much interest.

At first, you try to focus.

You really do.

The preacher’s voice is steady, warm, talking about grace, patience…. temptation.

Your cheeks burn.

You shake the thought away, gripping the hem of your dress, keeping your legs crossed tightly as the choir starts singing.

About halfway through the sermon, your brother shifts in his seat.

You glance over. He’s asleep.

His head is tilted slightly, arms crossed, breathing deep and even.

Matt notices too.

And suddenly the air changes. You feel it before anything even happens.

A shift. A weight. A slow, creeping awareness that has nothing to do with the sermon and everything to do with the warm hand suddenly resting on your thigh.

Your breath stutters but Matt doesn’t look at you. His gaze is still forward, casual, collected, unaffected.

But his hand moves. Slow and oh so deliberate.

His fingers drag up, tracing small, teasing circles just above your knee, making your stomach flip, your skin tingle.

Your grip on your dress tightens. You don’t dare move.

Matt leans in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper, dangerously close to your ear.

“Did you watch it all?”

You turn your head, eyes wide, lips parted in silent shock.

He still doesn’t look at you. His fingers slide higher. Your thighs twitch, a small, helpless movement, but Matt notices.

His lips twitch.

“You did, didn’t you?” he murmurs, his thumb pressing slightly into the soft skin of your inner thigh, just beneath the hem of your dress.

You nod, too flustered to speak.

Matt hums, his voice low, teasing, knowing.

“Did you like it?”

Your face burns. Your fingers dig into the fabric of your dress, desperate for something to hold onto.

Matt’s fingers trace slow, lazy circles, inching up higher and higher.

Your thighs squeeze together, but it only traps his hand between them. Matt exhales a quiet chuckle.

“You’re always trying to hide from me, angel,” he murmurs, the edge of his knuckles brushing against the heat between your thighs. “Don’t you like the way I make you feel?”

You gasp, your breath shaky, your legs trembling.

Matt finally tilts his head toward you, his lips barely an inch from your ear.

“You’re so innocent,” he whispers, voice gravelly, low, sinful. “Did you even know what I was doing to myself in that video?”

Your breath shatters.

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your head shakes, your throat dry, tight, overwhelmed.

Matt chuckles again, his fingers teasing the hem of your dress, ghosting along the edge. “I figured.”

Matt’s fingers trace higher, the heat of his palm pressing against your inner thigh, sending sharp jolts of something warm through your body.

You can barely breathe, your chest rising and falling in short, uneven bursts.

Matt’s posture remains relaxed, unbothered, like he isn’t slowly pushing your boundaries, teasing you in the middle of church, with your brother sitting right beside him- completely unaware.

“So you liked it, didn’t you?” he murmurs, his fingers curling slightly against your skin, a slow drag upward. “You wouldn’t have watched the whole thing if you didn’t.”

Your thighs clench around his hand even tighter, a helpless attempt to control the warmth spreading through you.

A low, quiet chuckle escapes his lips, mocking, teasing.

“Dirty girl,” he whispers, his lips barely brushing the shell of your ear. “Letting me touch you like this-” His fingers drag higher, just under the hem of your dress. “-in church.”

Your entire body tenses, your face burning, your breathing shaky and uneven.

“Matty-”

Your voice comes out as a soft, breathless plea, barely audible.

Matt just smirks.

His fingers slide all the way up, brushing over the soft, bare skin of your hip-

And then he freezes.

You don’t understand at first.

His body goes completely still, his breath hitching, his grip tightening.

And then you realize.

His fingers meet nothing but skin.

No underwear.

Matt’s entire demeanor changes.

His smirk fades.

His breathing deepens and slows.

His fingers twitch against your skin, as if he’s restraining himself from doing something more. Something he’d regret.

A low, almost pained exhale slips from his lips, barely audible over the preacher’s voice.

“Fuck.”

It’s not loud.

But you hear it.

And the way his fingers tighten- how his thumb digs into your thigh, how his grip shakes just slightly- makes your stomach flip.

Matt leans in, his lips brushing just beneath your ear, his voice low, strained, wrecked.

“Angel,” he whispers, his breath heavy. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Your breath catches, your body locking up as Matt’s fingers still against your bare skin.

His grip is tight, his jaw clenched, his entire body tense beside you.

You feel hot all over, burning, heat flooding through you in ways that make your head spin.

“I- I…” Your voice stammers, weak, barely above a whisper. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t have time- I was rushing, and I was- ”

You cut yourself off.

Your face burns, realization hitting you too late.

Your body betrays you, heat pooling between your thighs, dripping into the space where Matt’s fingers still rest.

His grip tightens, his breath slow, deliberate, dangerous.

His lips brush against the shell of your ear, his voice so low, so dark, so wrecked it makes your entire body shudder.

“You were what, angel?”

You can’t speak. You can’t move. You can only sit there, humiliated, mortified, so unbearably turned on you think you might die.

Matt leans in closer, closer, his nose brushing against your cheek, his lips barely grazing your skin.

“Tell me,” he whispers, mocking, teasing, his fingers dragging over your hip, pressing into your thigh.

“What were you doing… that made you get ready without any panties?”

You whimper, your legs shaking, your body betraying you again.

A slow, wicked chuckle rumbles from Matt’s chest, his fingers tightening, gripping, holding you in place as he feels the way you react to him.

Matt’s fingers stay still, his grip tight against your bare thigh, his breath slow and deliberate against your ear.

You feel trapped.

Not because you want to get away- because you don’t. Because you can’t. Because every teasing brush of his fingers against your skin sends a new wave of warmth flooding through you, pooling deep in your stomach, making it hard to breathe.

“You were what, sweetheart?”

His voice is low, dark, dripping with something dangerous.

You swallow, your throat dry, your body trembling beneath his touch.

“I- I was just- ”

Your breath shudders, your thoughts scatter, your hands gripping the hem of your dress tightly, twisting the fabric in your fists.

Matt’s lips twitch.

“That’s not an answer.”

His fingers move.

Just the slightest shift- his knuckles brushing higher, teasing the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

You whimper.

It’s quiet, barely audible over the preacher’s voice, but Matt hears it.

His grip tightens, his thumb pressing into your skin, his head tilting slightly as he watches you- studying you, unraveling you.

“You were what?” he repeats, his voice rougher, more demanding now.

Your thighs clench together again instinctively and you let out a whimper as it traps his knuckles right against your slit.

Matt exhales a quiet, mocking chuckle.

“You’re making this too easy for me, angel.”

Your body jerks, your breath hitching sharply, your entire face burning.

“I- I was- ”

You squeeze your eyes shut, your heart pounding, pounding, pounding.

But Matt won’t let up.

His thumb drags slow, lazy circles against your thigh, and his other hand- the one not ruining you beneath your dress- grips your chin, forcing you to face him.

Your eyes flutter open, and Matt’s gaze is already waiting for you.

“Say it.”

Your lips part, but no sound comes out, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your pulse hammering in your throat.

Matt’s fingers press into your thigh, gripping firmly.

His voice drops lower, almost a whisper.

“Tell me what you were doing.”

Your entire body is trembling, the heat between your legs growing unbearable, your skin burning under his touch.

And when his fingers shift just a little higher, his knuckles grazing so, so close-

It breaks you.

“I- I was watching your video and trying to… touch myself.”

The confession spills from your lips in a shaky breath, your entire body going still the second you say it.

Matt does too.

For a moment, he just stares at you, his jaw tight, tense, his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths.

Then, his lips part slightly, and he smirks.

“Good girl.”

And then his fingers move again.

You watch him carefully, your breath shaky, your fingers still gripping the hem of your dress like it’s the only thing grounding you.

Matt exhales a quiet chuckle, his other hand still gripping your chin, tilting your face toward him, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek.

“You’re so tense, angel,” he muses, his fingers skimming the soft, warm skin between your thighs.

Your breath shudders, your entire body on fire, heat pooling low, twisting into something thicker, heavier.

His thumb teases the hem of your dress, dragging the fabric up just slightly- just enough to make you gasp, your body trembling beneath his touch.

He leans in, his breath warm against your ear, his voice low, dripping with amusement.

“Are you shaking, sweetheart?”

You are. And he knows it.

Your thighs twitch, your body helplessly reacting to every slow, torturous movement.

His fingers finally, finally meet the heat between your legs, just barely, the lightest brush-

You suck in a breath, your hands gripping his wrist instinctively, unsure if you’re trying to stop him or pull him closer.

Matt hums, his lips tilting into a smirk.

His fingers press, just the slightest amount of pressure, just enough to make your stomach tighten, your breath hitch, your body betray you.

A soft, mocking laugh.

“You’re already so wet for me, angel.”

Your face burns, humiliation and something deeper, needier curling in your stomach, spreading everywhere.

Matt’s fingers press more firmly against the heat between your thighs, his touch still light, still teasing, but undeniably there.

His hand is warm, his fingertips tracing slow, lazy circles, barely touching, barely giving you anything- but just enough to make your thighs tremble, your breath shudder against the still air of the church.

His other hand stays firm on your chin, keeping your face tilted toward him, forcing you to feel every shift of his breath against your skin.

His movements are painfully slow, his fingers pressing against the soft skin at the apex of your thighs, feeling the warmth seeping through.

His breath stutters.

His fingers shift.

A slow, testing drag.

His hand moves again, his fingers spreading, cupping, pressing the warmth of his palm flush against you.

His lips brush the curve of your jaw, his voice low, gravelly, wrecked.

“You make me crazy,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking the inside of your thigh.

His fingers flex, pressing a little harder, feeling the heat there, feeling how much you need him.

His breathing shudders, his chest rising and falling in measured, controlled movements- but his fingers are anything but controlled.

Another slow, torturous drag.

His thumb presses down, tracing a slow circle through the warmth, feeling the way your body reacts to him, melts into him, gives into him.

He chuckles, deep, quiet, mocking.

“You like this, don’t you? Touching you in front of everyone?”

His hand stays, fingers taunting, teasing, his other hand finally leaving your chin, moving to rest on your thigh, spreading you wider.

His mouth hovers just over your ear, his breath heavy, his voice darker now, heavier, raw.

“Tell me how much you like it, angel.”

Matt’s fingers never stop moving.

His thumb circles and presses and teases your clit. His other hand holding you firmly in place, keeping your thighs from snapping shut around his wrist.

Your body betrays you, hips tilting forward, chasing the friction, desperate for more.

His lips curl into a smirk, his thumb pressing down just right, rubbing slow, taunting circles against that one spot that makes your thighs tremble.

“You’re so sensitive, angel,” he murmurs, his voice low, teasing, his breath hot against your skin.

Your breath stutters, your fingers gripping the hem of your dress, your knuckles turning white as you try and hold back sound.

Matt watches you closely, his lips brushing your jaw, his fingers picking up the pace, pressing just a little firmer, a little faster.

Your body tenses, warmth coiling, tightening, a pressure building so quickly it makes your breath catch, shudder.

Matt chuckles, his grip tightening.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his fingers never stopping.

Your thighs shake, your breath hiccups, your body arching slightly, the heat curling tighter, tighter-

Matt leans in, his voice rough, knowing, taunting.

“Let go, angel,” he whispers. “I know you want to.”

He presses down just right.

The pressure snaps.

Your body shatters, warmth crashing over you all at once, waves of heat and pleasure rolling through you, your thighs trembling, shaking, squeezing around his wrist as your breath catches, breaks, shudders.

Matt doesn’t move away.

He stays right there, his fingers easing you through it, his breath steady, controlled, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as a satisfied smirk pulls at his mouth.

“There you go,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking one last slow, teasing circle before finally pulling away.

His fingers slide back to your thigh, squeezing gently.

His lips press a soft, slow kiss against your cheek.

Matt pulls his hand away, his smug smirk growing as he watches your chest rise and fall in uneven bursts.

His eyes drop to your dress.

And his smirk vanishes.

His pupils darken, his jaw tightening as he takes in the mess.

The fabric is damp, sticking slightly to your thighs, the evidence of what he just did to you clear, visible, undeniable.

His fingers twitch, his entire demeanor shifting as something darker, something possessive, flickers behind his gaze.

A deep, low groan. “Fuck, angel.”

Your face burns.

Your hands fly to your lap, trying to cover it, trying to hide the humiliating proof of your pleasure, but Matt doesn’t let you.

He catches your wrist easily, effortlessly, his grip firm but gentle, his thumb stroking the inside of your wrist.

Your breath stutters.

Your legs press together instinctively, your whole body burning, humiliated, mortified.

“Matt- ” you whisper, your voice barely audible, shaky, wrecked.

He hums, pleased, amused.

Then, before you can protest, he guides your hand down, pressing your palm firmly over the thick, hard evidence straining against the denim of his jeans.

Your fingers twitch, feeling the heat, the thickness, the length, the way he’s pulsing under your touch.

Matt groans again, low, raspy, wrecked. “This is what you do to me, sweetheart.”

His fingers flex over yours, pressing your palm more firmly against him, letting you feel everything.

Your stomach flips violently all over again, your thighs clenching, your fingers trembling.

Matt smirks, tilting his head, watching you unravel.

“Made such a mess of yourself,” he murmurs, his voice mocking, taunting, dripping with amusement. “Right here in church.”

Your face burns hotter, your fingers twitching in his grasp.

Matt leans in, his lips brushing softly against your temple, the contrast between his filthy words and his gentle touch making your stomach turn inside out.

“Such a dirty, dirty girl,” he whispers, his voice low, thick, knowing. “Letting me touch you like this, letting yourself fall apart for me like that.”

His thumb strokes your wrist, his voice turning softer, more dangerous. “And you loved every second of it, didn’t you?”

Your lips part, trembling, lost, breathless. Matt just smirks against your skin, kissing your temple again- slower this time, softer.

His fingers squeeze over yours, still pressed against him, still feeling the proof of how much he wants you.

His breath is steady, controlled- but his body isn’t. He’s aching for more. But for now? He’s going to make sure you feel every second of what just happened.

Your chest tightens, your breath coming in short, shaky bursts as the reality of what just happened hits you all at once.

The mess in your dress, the evidence of everything Matt just did to you, is obvious, the fabric damp and clinging to your thighs, completely undeniable.

You have to stand up soon. Everyone will see.

You swallow hard, your fingers gripping Matt’s sleeve as your eyes sting, your vision blurring slightly.

Matt just watches you, his gaze dark, unreadable, amused.

Then, when he sees the way your lips tremble, the way your wide, doe eyes gloss over, the way a single tear slips down your cheek in quiet humiliation- He smiles.

Not to mock you.

But because he’s in pure disbelief over how innocent you are, how sweet you look even after everything he just did to you.

He exhales softly, shaking his head, still so incredibly turned on.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

His voice is softer now, soothing, teasing, but gentle.

He cups your jaw, his thumb wiping away the stray tear, his fingers lingering against your cheek.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, voice low, warm, steady. “I’ll take care of you.”

Before you can say anything, Matt pulls back, slipping off his navy sweater, leaving him in just the button-down underneath.

He hands it to you, the fabric still warm from his body.

“Put this on.”

You hesitate for a second, still trembling, still overwhelmed, before you quickly slip it on, pulling it down over your dress.

It falls past your waist, completely covering the mess.

You exhale shakily, your fingers clutching the sleeves, the heavy fabric smelling like him, calming you just slightly.

Matt watches you closely, his gaze dark and pleased, his lips still twitching with amusement as the sermon finally ends.

He nudges your brother awake, grinning when he grunts and blinks groggily.

“Dude, service is over,” Matt says, leaning back, his voice casual, easy, like nothing just happened. Like he didn’t just have you crumbling beneath his fingertips only a couple feet away from him.

Your brother stretches, yawns, rubbing his face before standing up, completely unaware of everything.

You hesitate for just a second before following, your legs still weak, wobbly, unsteady.

Matt stays close, his hand hovering near your back, watching you with pure satisfaction as you walk ahead of him.

The moment you climb into the car, settling into the backseat with Matt, your brother turns in the driver’s seat, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“…Why the fuck are you wearing Matt’s sweater?”

Your stomach drops, heat flooding your face. Your fingers tighten around the fabric, pulling it closer as you struggle for an answer.

Matt just leans back in the seat, smirking, completely unbothered. “She was cold,” he says easily.

Your brother squints, clearly suspicious, but doesn’t say anything- until his gaze drops lower.

His brows furrow. His lips part slightly in confusion.

“…What the hell?”

You freeze. Your entire body locks up. Because he’s looking at your dress. The part of it that isn’t fully covered by Matt’s sweater. The part that still has a very visible, very obvious wet spot.

Your face burns red, panic rising in your throat, but before you can react-

Matt laughs, reaching out to shove your head playfully, pushing you against his shoulder in a way that makes it seem like nothing.

“She spilled water on herself,” he says easily, completely effortless in his lie. “You know how much of an airhead she can be.”

Then, grinning, he pulls at the edge of the sweater.

“And she was freezing.”

Your brother blinks, glancing at you, still confused.

You nod quickly, going along with it.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, forcing a weak smile. “I just- spilled water. It’s fine.”

Your brother just shrugs, turning back to the wheel.

Matt smirks. And when your brother isn’t looking he leans in, his lips brushing your temple, his breath warm against your skin.

“Close one, huh?” he whispers, just for you to hear.

Your stomach flips violently.

Matt just grins.

After getting home, lunch is uneventful. Your brother talks about hockey, your dad chimes in occasionally, and Matt sits across from you, watching.

You can’t even look at him.

Every time your eyes flicker to his, his smirk deepens, his knee bumping against yours under the table.

So, the second you finish eating, you excuse yourself, practically rushing up to your room.

You slip out of your dress, peeling away the evidence of what happened in church, and quickly pull on something more casual, more safe- a soft white camisole, paired with tiny sleep shorts, delicate lace tracing the edges, still innocent, still sweet- but dangerous in a whole different way.

You sit on your bed, exhaling slowly, trying to breathe, process, forget-

A loud curse echoes from downstairs.

“FUCK!”

You jump, blinking, listening as your brother’s voice booms through the house.

“I broke my fucking stick,” he grumbles, his voice frustrated, stressed. “I need it for tomorrow. I meant to grab another at the banquet, but I forgot.”

You hear Matt’s voice next, casual, lazy, so unbothered compared to your brother’s stress.

“Damn,” Matt mutters.

Your brother groans. “The only store that sells the right ones is two hours away.”

A beat of silence.

“Dude,” your brother huffs. “That means I’m gonna be gone for like four hours.”

Matt whistles lowly, like he’s amused.

“Brutal.”

A pause.

“Matt, come with me,” your brother says suddenly.

Matt laughs under his breath. “Yeah, I’d go, man, but I’ve got homework due when we get back.”

“Dude,” your brother groans. “Come on.”

“I’m serious,” Matt chuckles, still casual, easy. “I really gotta finish it before tomorrow.”

“Fine,” your brother grumbles. “I’ll bring my dad. We’ll be back in like four, five hours.”

The front door slams shut.

Silence.

The air shifts.

Something changes.

You sit up slowly, your stomach twisting as you hear footsteps near your door.

Then,

A knock.

PART 4 OUT NOW!! CHECK MASTERLIST

for @mattsobvimyfav 💙

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stevesgother · 2 months ago

Text

Chalkboard Hearts - S.H

Pairing - KindergartenTeacher!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 4.3k

Contains - strangers to friends to lovers, slowburn, so much fluff, teacher!steve and mom!reader. No descriptions are given of reader or abbey, other than that abbey has curly hair, steve and reader are the same age (about 24-25), set early-mid 90's

AN - i don’t write for kids often so i hope this reads well and is realistic. i don’t have a clear end for this series in mind, so i’m gonna keep writing it for as long as y’all want it :) feel free to send requests for blurbs for this AU if you so wish and as always, thank you - emma

“Moooooom,”

You hear a tiny voice whisper in your ear. Most mornings started this way, if not all of them. Whoever said getting children out of bed in the morning was difficult had clearly never met Abbey. Every day you peeled your tired eyes open to see the miniature version of them staring back at you, the only difference being they were much wider, and lacking the distinct fog of leftover sleep.

Today her hair was sticking up in all different directions; frizzy curls here and tangled knots there. Your daughter takes after you in many ways, one being that she’s an active sleeper and it shows when she wakes up. Her bed was always disheveled; embroidered blankets strewn across her bedroom floor and little red lines indented in her cheeks where they had been smushed against her pillow.

“Mornin’ Ab,” you say, voice gravelly with disuse. “Have you made your bed yet?” you eye her suspiciously.

You know she hasn’t and she confirms as much when she spins on her heel and dashes for her room down the hall. Truthfully, you couldn’t care less if her bed was made or not, it was merely a guise to buy you a few extra minutes of peace and quiet each morning.

︵୨୧︵

When she doesn’t reappear, you assume she’s gotten distracted and decide to make your way downstairs to scrounge for something to eat. You never ate breakfast before you had Abbey; either for lack of time or because the smell of food so early in the morning made you nauseous. Eating three meals a day was just one bullet point on the long, running list of changes in your routine since becoming a mother.

Two bowls of Frosted Flakes were set out on the table after deciding there was no time for anything more nutritious.

“Abbey!” You call, “Breakfast!”

You hear the sounds of sniffling and small feet padding on hardwood as she enters the kitchen– pouting. You try not to gape at the utter monstrosity of an outfit she's put on. She whines, “I don’t know what I want to wear!”

You sense a meltdown coming already, on today of all days. Pre-school was easy, as Abbey was a fairly agreeable kid. Or at least she used to be. Lately it felt like you had to battle her about anything and everything.

“You look so beautiful, Ab!” you reassure her, attempting to deescalate the impending tantrum. She has on pink corduroy pants and a frilly forest green blouse. For accessories she’s sporting a chunky plastic necklace that definitely came with a dress-up kit, along with a tutu. You have no idea where the tutu came from.

Eventually she decides not to fight you, at least not on her outfit. However, as she climbs into the kitchen chair, she scowls down at the soggy cereal in front of her and asks in the most darling tone she can muster,

“Can I have Scooby fruit snacks instead?”

“How about I pack some in your lunchbox today and you can eat them at snack time?” you try to barter.

Sneaking a glance at the clock, it mocks you with its unforgiving hands– you’re going to be late and your daughter will have skipped supposedly the most important meal of the day. Some mother you are.

“But I want them right now!” Her petite fists bang against the wooden table and she’s a heap of dramatics wriggling in her chair.

“Hey, what did we talk about? Yelling is not nice, even when we’re frustrated. Right?” She acknowledges you with a teary nod along with more crying and petulant moaning that can be heard as you run to the bathroom and grab a hairbrush with two bows. When you return, she’s still moping over her breakfast, but taking bites nonetheless. A win is a win.

You begin detangling the mess of knots and snarls at the back of her head. “Ouch, Mommy!” she cries when you try to comb through a particularly tangled section.

You place one of your hands over the crown of her head like a claw in a poor attempt at keeping her from squirming, “The more you move the longer it takes, sweetheart,”

“Hmph.” she pouts, folding her arms over her chest. When all is said and done, your daughter has her hair parted and tied into two high pigtails, secured with little pink bows, and you’re rushing her out of the front door with haste.

︵୨୧︵

In all the hubbub, you realize you’ve barely gotten yourself ready. Reaching over to buckle Abbey into her carseat, she asks,

“When can I sit up front with you?”

“When you’re this many,” You hold out both your hands to display all ten fingers.

She mimics you with her own smaller fingers, “Ten?”

“That’s right!” You smack a kiss on the crown of her head as you pull back, she smells like her strawberry scented shampoo.

“Watch your feetsies,” you warn and she tucks her legs unnecessarily far into her chest as you close the door.

The ride is filled with the usual nonsensical ramblings of a five-year-old. She beams back at you through the rearview mirror, eyes sparkling and nodding fervently when you ask if she’s excited to make some new friends today. Your social butterfly, the complete antithesis of you.

The elementary school is only a few miles from your home, and before you know it you’re circling a crowded parking lot and preparing to drop your only child off for her first day of kindergarten. The rush of emotions you feel are indecipherable, something like a mix of somberness, excitement, relief, and anxiety.

As you walk towards the front of the building, you’re surrounded by dozens of kids aged five through twelve greeting their teachers and saying ‘Hello’ to friends they haven’t seen all summer. The teachers are holding laminated signs that indicate their name and what grade they teach; thank God for that. Abbey’s little fist squeezes around your index finger and you can tell she’s becoming nervous, despite her previous unbridled anticipation.

“Hey, it’s okay,” You assure, “Look, I think that’s your teacher right there,” you point towards a tall, brunette man standing near the double doors.

A shy smile tugs at the corners of her lips when she sees the teacher in question. He’s dressed in a striped button-down shirt and khakis, with a lanyard dangling from his front pocket; the typical teacher attire.The sign he’s holding reads, ‘Mr. Harrington’ and just below that, ‘Kindergarten’ with a little cartoon apple printed next to his name. He looks young compared to the rest of the staff, closer to your own age. This must be his first year teaching.

As you approach him, Abbey treks in front, eager to meet him. Her backpack is adorned with sparkly butterflies and it covers nearly her entire torso; bumping the backs of her knees with every step she takes.

The man crouches down to her level and greets her, “Hey there,” he offers a warm smile, “what’s your name?”

“Abbey,” she says timidly, twiddling her fingers and flashing a toothy grin at him. She doesn’t bother with her last name, honestly you’re not positive that she even knows it.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Abbey,” he holds a gentle hand out for her to shake and she does so hesitantly, “My name’s Mr. Harrington, and I’m going to be your teacher this year. How does that sound?” The way he’s so patient and attentive with her stirs something within you that you haven’t felt in years, but he’s a teacher, for goodness sake. He looks up then, locking eyes with you and rising back to his full height.

This time, it’s your turn to shake his hand. “I’m Steve.” He flashes you a smile directly out of a Colgate ad and you hope you’re not blushing as much as you feel like you are.

You must look nervous because he immediately assures you that Abbey’s in good hands this year. “We’re having an open house tonight, I hope to see you both there,”

You glance at your daughter, “What’d you think, Ab? That sound fun?”

“Yes!” She squeals and almost falls over from the weight of her backpack.

“Okay then,” With that, you crouch down to give Abbey one final hug. It’s clear that she’s itching to go socialize with the other kids, so you try not to delay her with your sappiness.

“Be good today, okay?” you give her a tight squeeze and a smacking kiss on her little cheek, “I’ll be back to get you at two-forty-five.”

“What will the clock say?” She asks inquisitively. Her favorite question.

“It’ll say ‘two-four-five’,” She nods in understanding, “But I bet you’ll be having so much fun that you won’t even remember to look.”

She’s already on her way to the door when she calls, “Love you, mommy!” and blows you a kiss with her lips puckered. You blow her one back and fight the tears threatening to surface. When did she get so big?

A pang of insecurity settles in your chest when you chance a look around and see all the children accompanied by two parents. You begin the walk back to your sedan before the thought has a chance to fester.

︵୨୧︵

Six hours goes by alarmingly fast when it’s spent running around your house in a frenzy, trying to catch up on all the cleaning you aren’t able to do when there’s a rampant five-year-old on the loose, making a brand new mess where you just cleaned an old one.

Before you can even register the time has passed, it's two o’clock and you need to pick Abbey up in a mere forty five minutes. Looking around your house, you feel satisfied with the progress you were able to make on tidying and call it a day.

This time, you decide to try and appear more presentable before visiting the school, and firmly remind yourself that it has nothing to do with how flustered your daughter’s kindergarten teacher makes you. By the time you’re dressed and have pulled your hair up into a halfway decent top knot; it’s time to go.

︵୨୧︵

The line for pickup wraps around the front of the building, aided by crossing guards and supervised by a few teachers. Twenty minutes into waiting, you regret not having gotten here a little sooner. ‘Tomorrow’ you think. Soon, you catch sight of two little pigtails bobbing up and down as your Abbey skips over to you, grinning ear to ear while Steve watches from the doors she just exited.

“Mommy!” she shouts as she bounds towards you. You place the car in park and run around to greet her.

“Hi, Bug!” you exclaim as you bend at the waist to pick her up. She gives you a tight squeeze around the neck, and you catch a split second of Steve’s gaze over her shoulder before he’s disappearing back inside the school

Plopping her as gently as possible into her carseat and fastening the straps over her chest, her mouth is already moving a mile a minute– absolutely ecstatic to tell you all about the activities she got up to while you were gone.

“What is ‘open house’ ?” she asks, kicking her feet like she can’t possibly contain all the excitement inside her little body.

“It’s just a chance for all the mommies and daddies to meet your teachers,” you explain, “And you get to show me around your new school, fun right?”

Her face lights up like a christmas tree at the prospect, “Are we gonna go?!”

“Yes, but first we have to eat dinner. What sounds good?”

Without missing a beat, she yells a little too loudly, “McDonalds!”

You want to say yes, of course you do, but your shifts at the ER barely cover the minimum of your living expenses. Your resolve begins to crumble, however, when she looks at you with those saucer-round eyes, and her bottom lip juts out in the most precious pout. Who knew she could be so harmlessly manipulative?

“I don’t know, Ab. I think we have some chicken nuggets in the freezer at home, though,” you say, with an air of hopefulness that she might accept the compromise.

“Not the same,” she whines, “Please, Mommy! I’ll be extra extra good please–”

And with that, it’s over.

“Okay! Okay, fine,” you feign annoyance through a smile, “We’ll stop on the way home,”

You can still hear her squeals of excitement when you close the door and walk around to the driver's seat.

︵୨୧︵

Abbey dresses a little more cohesively for the open house than she did this morning. This time she’s clad in a thrifted pair of overalls overtop a little purple blouse. She leads you, hand in hand, inside the school like she knows exactly where she’s going– despite only having spent six hours here.

Steve’s classroom looks exactly how you’d expect. The walls are a light, mint green and it’s as if a character from Sesame Street threw up all over it. Abbey leads you to a reading nook in the corner of the room, surrounded by books and complete with several bean bag chairs, and proclaims this is her favorite spot. She shows you where her desk is– right in the very front of the classroom– and on it, a laminated sticker with her first and last name sits neatly near the top. The walls are lined with colorful letters in alphabetical order, accompanied with numbers just underneath them.

“Abbey!” you hear a familiar voice call, “I’m glad you and your mom could make it!” turning to you then, “I’m actually not sure I ever caught your name,” he chuckles awkwardly, clearly embarrassed by the fact that he doesn’t know it yet.

“Oh, it’s–” and before you get the chance to tell him, Abbey pipes up and tells him your first and last name with a confidence that she certainly didn’t have when it came to her own introduction this morning. You’re relieved that she feels so comfortable around him already.

He repeats your name back to you and holds out his hand for you to shake, “It’s nice to meet you,” You pay no mind to the way your heart beats a little faster in its cage at the sound of your name on his lips. His palm is surprisingly soft when you grasp it in your own.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you grant him a polite smile, “Abbey could not stop talking about you on the way home,” you pinch her side, teasing, and she giggles in that contagious way that kids do.

“Is that so?” he feigns surprise when he looks at her.

“Nooo!” her giggles amplify as she becomes increasingly bashful.

He crouches down to meet her at eye-level, exactly like he did this morning, “Well, that’s a shame, because I think you might be one of my favorite students,”

Now, she’s a heap of laughter and has a blush spreading from the apple of her cheeks to the tips of her ears. You can’t help but feel enamored by how great he is with children, silently wondering if he comes from a big family, or if he has a child of his own.

“Did you introduce your mom to Nibbles?” he asks her when her laughing mostly subsides.

She gasps like she can’t believe she would’ve forgotten such a thing, then she hauls you by the arm over to a tiny cage on a table, presumably for an even tinier animal.

“Mommy, look! This is Nibbles,” She’s peering between the metal bars of the enclosure and encouraging you to do the same, when you lean in closer you see a small, tan gerbil sleeping in a little nest of bedding.

“He’s our friend and he helps us learn, so we have to be very careful with him,” she tells you with a sudden seriousness that's amusing to see displayed on such a young face. It’s obvious she’s parroting Steve.

You turn to see Steve observing from a few feet behind you, both hands shoved in his pockets, “I didn’t think teachers actually had class pets,” you breathe a huff of laughter.

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckles with you, “I brought him from home, actually. Figured he could use some socialization. With dozens of children.” he informs you sarcastically. God, he’s funny too.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you to be a hamster guy,” you tease.

“He’s a gerbil, first of all,”

“Right, sorry, my bad,” you smirk.

“No time for a dog, I guess,” he shrugs, “thought I could use the company,” he’s clearly still bantering, but there’s an underlying melancholy in his tone that you can’t quite place. Before you can think about it for longer than a second, an impatient five-year-old is tugging on your arm and begging to show you the library.

“Okay, alright,” you laugh, “better get to it, the library awaits,” you shoot him an apologetic look for having cut the conversation short. You feel less guilty, however, when you see more parents and children start to funnel into the classroom, busying him in yours and Abbey’s absence.

“See ya, “ he waves.

“Bye, Mr. Harrington!” Abbey yells, already halfway down the hall.

︵୨୧︵

In the library you have to shush Abbey several times, much to her dismay.

“We use our inside voices in the library, Ab,” you remind her for the fifth time. She frowns but it’s temporary when she spots her favorite section: the picture books. Abbey is ahead of a kindergarten reading level now, and it's one of her favorite hobbies, but you can still never go wrong with a good picture book.

You’re about to follow her when you hear someone call your name.

You turn, “Stephanie?” you ask, puzzled.

“Oh my gosh! It’s been forever!” an old friend from your shared high school, Stephanie, pulls you into an unreciprocated bear hug. Squeezing and swaying back and forth for an awkward amount of time.

“Hey,” you draw out the last syllable and try to paint your voice with a nostalgic excitement, “How have you been?” you ask, even though you’re sure you’d rather be shot than continue this conversation.

You don’t know if you could really call Stephanie a ‘friend’, or if you ever could. The only reason she even knew your name being the shared, piranha-esq social circle you both ran in years ago. She reminded you of your past– who you used to be– someone who you’re not particularly proud of.

“Oh, I've been just fine!” She gestures wildly with manicured nails. Her lips are overlined and her hair is still damaged from bleaching and too many perms. Evidently, not a lot has changed. You ponder if she’s still the mean girl she always was underneath all that makeup, or if at some point in your adolescence she decided to mature.

“Todd and I just bought a house over on Maplewood, are you familiar?”

“Oh, no, not really– my daughter and I live across town,” You don’t like how ashamed you feel, “I’ve heard it’s beautiful over there, though,” you attempt to smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“That was your daughter?” She’s trying not to sound taken aback and failing, “With–?”

“Yes,” Your teeth grit ever so slightly. You hate that she won’t say his name, as if speaking it into existence would somehow break you. Like you’re fragile.

“I was terribly sorry to hear about what happened, Hon,” Her sudden sympathetic tone irritates you, whether it’s genuine or not. You don’t need pity, especially not from Stephanie Nettles.

“It’s okay, Steph, really,” losing patience by the second, nothing about it was okay. “It was a long time ago, Abbey and I are doing fine,” you assure her.

“Oh,” she fawns as she presses her bony hands against her chest above her heart, “Can I meet her? Would you mind?" Her tone is saccharine sweet. You figure it can’t hurt, but when you turn around to retrieve Abbey, she’s not where you left her. The spot on the rug that she was previously occupying is empty and her book is abandoned on the floor.

“Abbey?!” Calling a little too loudly for the setting you’re in but you can’t bring yourself to care. You search row after row, it’s not a big library, and after every shelf you’re expecting her to be there– browsing novels and you’ll feel silly for overreacting.

But that doesn’t happen, and you realize with mild panic that she definitely left the library; somehow without you noticing. You suppose this is the safest place for her to go missing, but the thought doesn’t soothe you for long as you still have no idea where your daughter could be.

Stephanie is staring at you with concern, but still making no effort to help you locate Abbey. You don’t speak and neither does she as you rush out of the room and begin to pace the halls, still calling out for her. You check the bathrooms by the gym, a couple of empty classrooms that aren’t locked– she’s not there either.

When you’ve checked every available room and potential hiding spot in the near vicinity and still see no trace of her, that’s when the real dread sets in. What if she’d wandered outside and been taken? Or worse, there had been an accident and she’s hurt? She could be miles from here by now, she could be–

“I think this might belong to you,” a mellow voice rings out.

Steve and Abbey walk leisurely towards you, hand in hand. A complete contrast to the frazzled mess of anxiety you are right now. You hurl yourself in their direction and wrap Abbey up in a hug, lifting her off her feet.

“Oh my God, Abbey,” normally you’d be fuming at her for wandering off like that when you know that she knows better, but you can’t feel anything other than relief in the moment.

“Found her on the swings,” Steve continues, “Isn’t that right?”

Your relief does eventually morph to frustration, “You know better, Abbey Jane. Don’t stray off like that again. Do you understand?”

She succumbs to her guilt and you can tell her short-lived freedom has lost its novelty. “I’m sorry, mommy,” her little eyes well with tears. “The other kids were going to the swings, I wanted to go,” she pouts.

“We could’ve gone, baby, but you have to ask first, okay?”

Her meek response is muffled in the crook of your neck, “Okay,”

She’s still sniffling into your shoulder when you remember Steve is there, and your surroundings come back into focus.

“Thank you for finding her, Steve–”

“--His name is Mr. Harrington, mom,” she corrects like she can’t believe you’d embarrass her like that by calling her teacher the wrong name.

“--Mr. Harrington,” you stifle a laugh for your daughter's sake, sending him a knowing look.

He returns the expression, “Anytime,” he smiles, sweet . “Think that's enough scaring your mom for today, huh?”

Instead of acknowledging with words, she simply nods her head, eyes glued to the floor, ashamed.

“I think someones getting sleepy, might be time to head home,” you drag a gentle hand down her back soothingly.

“Will you carry me?” she asks too adorably to say no, despite her being ever-so-slightly too big for it. Grunting as you pick her up, you say, “Thanks, again,”

“No need,” he ruffles Abbey’s head lightly as you pass, “See you tomorrow, right?”

“See you,” her eyelids are heavy already. You make your way back to the car slowly but surely, arms growing more numb with every step.

︵୨୧︵

Abbey manages to bargain a bath out of you and four books before bedtime instead of the usual two. How you ever say no to her, you’re not sure. By the time you finally tuck her in, it's well past nine o’clock.

“Did you have a good day today?” You ask as you bend down to kiss her forehead.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington is my favorite teacher,” she proclaims drowsily.

“He’s your only teacher, Ab,” You snicker.

“But he’s still my favorite,” she replies in the same cadence one would say ‘Duh’.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to go to sleep super fast tonight so you can see him sooner, right?”

You can practically see the lightbulb turn on above her head like she’s just had a groundbreaking revelation and nods fervently. You tuck her in tight on both sides, and give her a kiss on each of her cheeks and once more to her forehead for good measure.

“Love you, Abbey girl,” you tell her on your way out, “Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, mommy,” she says wearily from underneath her princess bedsheets.

The door closes with a soft click and you make your way to the living room. You never had the chance to ask Stephanie what she was doing at the school– from what you knew, she didn’t have any children. Perhaps she was a teacher. It didn’t matter as long as you didn’t have to interact with her again.

As you lounged on your old sectional, you couldn't help your mind wandering back to thoughts of Steve. You wanted to know more about him. Where he came from, what made him want to work with kids, why he needed a gerbil to keep him company. Distantly, you imagined what he was like outside of an elementary school setting. You hoped one day you’d find out.

He was Abbey’s teacher, sure, but what was the harm in a little crush?

taglist - @soulxiez

divider credit to @/strangergraphics

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bdbueckers · 16 days ago

Text

ballin' pt.2 | p.b

"i just finished on you, i just did it on you"

paring: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, dom!paige, sex, strap usage, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral (both receiving.. partially), spanking, squirting, gets a little sappy at the end ofc, if i missed anything feel free to lmk!

word count: 2.5k

summary: your girlfriend reminds you just how much she loves you and only you.

author's note: pt.2 is here! i hope it ends up being everything y'all hoped for, if not more. feedback is appreciated as always and feel free to send asks with regards to this fic or maybe even something else you think i could write. alright, enough yapping from me..enjoy! x (once again if you hate it do NAWT fucking tell me)

read the first part here

“we’re not even close to done. strip.”

she looks up at you, demanding, anticipating. already ridding herself of the rest of her clothes.

reaching behind you undo the knot at the nape of your neck. your dress falls, finally revealing your top half completely. paige leans up to attach her mouth to one of your nipples, always quick to give them her undivided attention.

“every part of you is so perfect baby, fuck.” she moans, mouth open and her tongue out circling your hardened buds.

your hand holds the back of her head, pushing her farther into your cleavage. your head lulls back, mouth open in a silent moan at the feeling of her hot mouth on your skin and the cool air that follows when she switches from right to left.

paige slides to the edge of the bed, forcing you to stand so the rest of your dress could fall, pooling at your feet. she pulls her head back from your chest and her eyes are met with you fully naked for the first time tonight.

your heart hammers in your chest as she eyes from head to toe, her bottom lip between her teeth when she catches a glimpse of your folds. placing a hand under her chin you lean down to bring your lips to hers once more. almost as if for good measure, ensuring that this moment was real. when you stand again you already see her reaching towards your bedside table for a certain detachable piece of silicone.

“p, can i help you put it on?” you utter, voice lower than you realized.

with a slight nod she beckons you closer, but not before stopping you a few inches from her with an extended hand on your hip.

“on your knees.”

not even needing her to finish saying all three words you dropped down, eye to eye with the harness and strap in her hands. grabbing it from her you begin to secure it. stopping when it was on her, you trail languid kisses up and down her upper thighs and hips, hands sliding up her abs and resting just underneath the curve of her tits.

with a hand on the side of your face she forces you to look up at her.

“i’m getting impatient.”

“oh and you were talking about me earlier?” you asked, leaving another kiss on her lower stomach right above the strap harness.

“how about you put your mouth to work on my shit instead of running it so much, hmm?” paige grabs you by the crown of your head. not even waiting for an answer from you.

wetting your lips you wrap them around the tip, moaning at weight on your tongue. gradually taking more of “her” in your mouth you make the mistake of looking up to gauge any reactions she might be having. she’s already looking back at you.

forcing your head down until your nose meets her stomach and you’re gagging she begins to rut into your mouth a little, relishing in the gurgling noises coming from you.

“fuck, that’s right baby. get it wet.” she hisses, only throwing her head back momentarily before gazing down at you again.

paige and her strap were almost inseparable. any time she got the opportunity to fuck you with it, it became an extension of her. if you hadn’t known any better you’d think that she could actually feel it. that’s just how she was.

“hmm, i think that’s enough?” she questions, a smirk painting her lips. with her hand now on your ponytail she’s tugging you off of her cock. you whine a little as you feel drool slipping past your lips and dripping down your chin slightly.

“if this shit was really mine i’d cum all over your face right now,” paige starts.

she can see how you press your thighs together even tighter, your clit begging for some kind of attention.

“i know you’d look perfect. you’re already sucking me off like your life depends on it, imagine you covered in my cum.”

“p…baby please” you huff, already wet all over again and ready to be filled to the brim.

“you know i like it when you beg.” she says, roughly bringing you to your feet with that same hand holding onto your hair. as soon as you’re standing you're pushed on to the bed again. you don’t even need her to tell you before you’re on your hands and knees with your ass in the air.

you hear her take in a sharp breath before you feel her hand come down on your ass, the now lubricated tip teasingly rubbing up and down your sopping wet cunt. you almost fall right into your stomach at the contact, letting out a mix of a whine and a groan.

she leans down, her chest pressed against your back as she uses her hand to continue dragging the strap through your folds.

“c'mon baby, gotta tell me how bad you want it.” she whispers in your ear.

instinctively pushing back into her you huff a bit, knowing that you needed to say something because she absolutely would drag this out.

“paige, fuck– please i need it, i wanna feel you so bad, i need you inside me now.”

“more.”

oh my god.

“nobody fucks me like you do baby, i’ve been thinking about this all night, please”

“you sound so pretty like this princess.” you can almost hear the grin in her voice.

as your brain registers the praise you feel her roll her hips forward, immediately bottoming out.

your jaw goes slack and you feel like you could scream but the lack of air in your lungs from the sharp breath you’ve just taken in makes it a little hard.

“shit, look at how you’re sucking me in already.” she groans, eyes never leaving your pussy as it swallows her inch by inch.

it doesn’t even take her a few strokes before she has one hand gripping tightly onto your hip and another pressing down on your shoulder blades to keep your back arched. she’s plowing into you at this point.

you can’t control the noises that leave you. from the squelching of your pussy and whatever manages to come out of your mouth it's all extremely lewd, the thought of how loud you’re being never crosses your mind.

“tell me how it feels.” she demands.

you try to speak but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a whine as you face plant into the mattress.

not going for that paige grabs onto your ponytail, yanking you back until your body is pressed against hers. her thrusts don’t still or slow.

“am i fucking you dumb baby? better say something or i’ll stop.” she pants into your ear, tonguing your earlobe.

“mmm– it feels so good p, please don’t stop!” you yelp, as she releases her hold on you pushing you down into the mattress, somehow pumping into you faster.

“i can’t. believe. you. think. i. would. ever. want. to. fuck. somebody. else.” she says, punctuating each word with a thrust into your leaking hole, each stroke surprisingly feeling deeper than the last.

she brings down a hand to your clit, making tight circles upon contact.

“paige!” you gasp, reaching back to attempt to get a hand on her stomach to disrupt her thrusts. she immediately moves it away, smacking her lips together.

“you wanted it, so take it. don’t ever try to push me away.” she mutters, one hand now holding yours behind your back.

your chest is burning from how hard you’re breathing, your throat dry because you can’t keep your mouth closed, drool pooling beneath you on the duvet.

paige uses her free hand to deliver a quick slap to your clit, causing you to produce a moan that’s borderline pornographic.

she watches you clench around her.

“you liked that?” she lets out almost mocking you.

“yes, oh my god–YES”

your feel her fingers on your clit again and you screw your eyes shut.

“p, you'resogood–shit please don’t stop, i’m gonna cum!” your words now slurred together.

“i bet you are. c’mon, give it to me.” she moans, getting off on the sight of you like this.

paige doesn’t let up and soon you’re panting ridiculously fast as you feel static from your head to your toes, creaming her strap.

“oh baby, look at you…so messy.” paige groans, slowing her thrusts to get you through your high but never coming to a complete stop. just milking you.

after a few more delicate thrusts paige pulls out of you and watches your hole clench and unclench, muttering a breathy “fuck” from behind you.

she helps you roll onto your side to catch your breath as you collapse. you can’t help but grin to yourself like an idiot. you feel her peppering feather light kisses all over your forehead, cheeks, and down your neck as you relish in the feeling of your orgasm.

“i do remember you sayin' sumn about how you wanted to fuck me until you pass out...” you hear from the foot of the bed.

lifting your head slightly you see her reaching out to grab your ankles and pull you towards the foot of the bed once more.

“what are you–“

“let me clean up the mess you made.”

your eyes go wide as paige spreads your legs rather gently placing kiss after kiss to both your inner thighs, her veiny hands firm in their hold on you to ensure that you can’t squirm out of her reach.

your breathing is airy and uneven again when you feel her getting closer and closer to your cunt, obviously still covered in cum.

“paige, i don’t know if i can–“

“you can. and you will. one more and then i’m done with you…for tonight.” she responds, not entertaining the idea of you getting out of this.

her breath is hot, hovering over you. you weakly lift yourself only your elbows to watch as her tongue wets her bottom lip and juts out once more to lick up your pussy from your leaking hole to your clit.

you gasp loudly, your head falling to one shoulder. paige’s eyes are low as she holds eye contact with you for a second. she moans and they immediately shut when she tastes you.

she sucks your clit between her lips before circling her tongue around it a few times, you moan and your legs threaten to clamp shut around her head but her hands are there to pry them wide open again.

you let yourself fall off of your elbows, chest heaving and you let out a whimper when she pumps her tongue into your hole.

you’re so sensitive this brings tears to your eye. you reach down and tangle your hands in her hair that’s a mess now, vastly contrasting how it looked earlier in the night. you think about pushing her head away but as much as it hurts it feels so good.

you feel greedy almost. already chasing your third orgasm of the night.

pulling back from her assault on your clit paige uses two fingers to circle your hole teasingly and then spread your folds. she gathers all of the saliva in her mouth before pursing her lips and spitting onto your cunt, connecting her mouth to you again shaking her head from side to side.

your eyes roll back into your head and a noise leaves your mouth, half a moan and half a sob.

“shit–baby i’m close please don’t stop”

using the same hand that was just in you, paige reaches up to pinch one of your nipples. her mouth never faltering in motion.

this sends you over the edge. covering her hand with yours you’re screaming her name as tears roll down your cheeks. your back arches off of the bed as paige’s tight grip holds you down.

your eyes are so far into the back of your head that you think you see white for a second. then your stomach is tight and you get a sudden and overwhelming urge to pee.

that’s not what’s happening.

paige’s mouth is wide open as you squirt, covering her chin, her chest, and the sheets beneath you. if you had the mental capacity to give a fuck you’d be a little shocked but right now it didn’t matter.

you can’t help but sob uncontrollably now, your pussy worn out and the rest of your body exhausted as well. paige disconnects herself from your lower half and is quick to hover over you kissing away any tears that continue to fall. she’s cooing in your ear in admiration, still a bit in awe herself.

“shh, it’s okay. you did so good for me baby, took it like a fucking champ.” she whispers, laying beside you whilst laying an arm over your midsection as you begin to calm down.

you’re nothing but a sniffling mess but you try to pry your eyes open and you get a slight glimpse into the same blue ones that got you in this position.

leaning in paige places the softest kiss possible on your lips. you kiss back with the last bit of energy you have left before taking a deep breath as everything around you fades.

you don’t know how much time passes but when you blink back to consciousness you’ve been wiped down and you’re wearing clean clothes. your head rests on paige’s chest and her fingers trace shapes into the skin that’s exposed at your hip with your shirt ridden up.

turning your head slightly, careful not to disturb paige as you can tell she’s in and out of sleep herself.

“look who finally decided to wake up,” she teases, “i got a little scared when your eyes closed and didn’t open again but when i realized you actually did pass out i had to stop myself from laughing.”

in disbelief you smack your lips and push at her chest, “you’re fucking ridiculous.” you say before also letting out a chuckle of your own at the irony of the situation.

“no, it seems like i…fuck ridiculous.”

“there’s no way you’re dead ass right now.”

“oh but i am.”

ignoring the way you roll your eyes she pulls you closer to her with the same hand that was already on your hip. kissing your forehead and resting her head atop yours.

“thank you for tonight,” she whispers, grinning when you instinctively lift one leg to wrap around her waist, getting as close and comfortable as possible.

“i should be thanking you,” you begin to respond before yawning and burying your head into the crook of her neck. “tonight was perfect, i don't think i've ever cum that hard in my life.”

"you're welcome, you know i'm always at your service."

chuckling again in disbelief you gaze up at her one more time.

“i love you.”

"and i love you. only you, forever and always you. never forget it.'

you both finally shut your eyes and the night ends somehow better than you could’ve possibly imagined. you’re fed, fucked out, and quite literally wrapped in love.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x fem!reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers fic #wlw fiction #wcbb x reader #wcbb smut #bdbueckers🍓#namz🍓

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inmaki · 10 months ago

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as an apology for my constant disappearing here is a preview for my virgin nanami fic, hopefully done by the end of this month <3

hurt (comfort in full fic), making out, nanami being dumb

nanami kento was an orderly man.

not a single strand of his golden hair ever strayed from its place. his tie was never too far to the right or the left — only smack dab in the middle against his built chest.

his crisp, navy shirt didn't dare have a wrinkle on it, much like his allen edmond shoes that were free from any creases despite being worn every day for years.

it made you want to ruin him. ruin such perfection in all his towering glory.

and you did - at least, at much as nanami would let you.

intense makeout sessions happened every so often: during impromptu movie nights on the couch, in the morning under the warmth of your shared blankets, and especially after extra-hard days at work.

yet it never went further, no matter how hard you tried to initiate anything — whether it be a hand sliding down too low, or a soft moan into his mouth, nanami would be fumbling up an excuse to leave immediately. just like now.

"mmph.. 'missed you," you mumble against his swollen lips, sucking the bottom one greedily. the man had only just walked into the kitchen when you'd practically pounced on him in hunger.

despite his surprise, kento gives you the privilege of running your nails through his once-perfectly-slicked-back hair, grunting as you yank him even closer with his tie, loosening it in the process.

"missed you too, honey." even the simplicity of his giant hands caressing your waist sends a rush of arousal through your body, humming as you rub a hand down the solid ridges of his abs. he tasted like the coffee he'd probably been sipping languidly throughout the day, mixed in with the natural flavor of him.

memories of the sorcerer slipping in and out of the shower shirtless — toned torso on display and all — were some of the hardest in your book. occasionally, you would joke to him about dropping your panties then and there. you never actually dropped them (that could easily change if he so asked), but you were pretty much hanging on to them for dear life every afternoon.

and in response to your compliment, nanami would only chuckle nervously before shutting the door behind him to change in the closet. an ugly feeling would blossom in your chest every time at his lack of enthusiam or reciprocation to your desire, though you never let the thought spiral.

a few minutes later, your lips remained glued to his, passionately making out against the counter while continuing your adventure around his body, never straying below his belt.

nanami felt dizzy as he finally pushed away to take a breath. usually he was quite good at keeping up with your ineffable needs — he placed the blame on his depletion from work.

a groan involuntarily escapes him as you lower your lips to suck beneath his jawline, bound to leave a mark. "my love, what's got you so worked up?" he inquires with closed eyes, tilting his head up to give you further access.

you hum in approval of the action, sucking even harder. "told you, i missed you."

before you could stop to think, your hand that was once on his abs instinctively moved lower to rest just above his bulge, and then everything stopped.

with a shaky clear of his throat, nanami pushes off the counter, forcing you to back away while his hands drop to his beige dress pants.

your brows furrow. "what-"

"i'm gonna take a shower." his eyes avert, adam’s apple bobbing smoothly.

not another word follows as your boyfriend paces to the apartment's shared bedroom, leaving you to drown in your cynical thoughts.

if u wanna be tagged comment/send an ask! srry this is short but the full fic is much longer!!! i am like 3/4 done! i js procrastinate writing the smut (also the reason part 2 of my gojo fic is taking forever) T-T

read virgin gojo while u wait <3

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ourhees · 3 months ago

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SUNBURNT ── SJY

PREC𝓲S ｡｡ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋

심재윤 ／⠀𝑓𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 reader ── heavily suggestive + non 𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑙 au ｡｡ re—upload hehe !! my ogs remember this >_< ∿ ✦ more

THERE HE WAS... shirtless out in the sun on his front yard. you couldn't help but blush when you saw this abs glazed in sweat due to the heat. his black sunglasses rested on the bridge nose as he soaked in every bit of sunlight.

sim jaeyun, your handsome, flirty next door neighbor. ever since he moved into the neighborhood, he always found his way to be near you. it started with his soccer ball landed on your yard, he would knock on your door asking if he can come get it.

now there he was, laying on a towel; shirtless. you couldn't help but stare, watching him lay out in the sun. you continued to stare, making sure you weren't so obvious, or so you thought.

"hey pretty." you near jake call out.

"oh hey.. what're doing out on this humid day?" you casually played it off.

"just soaking in some sun you know? say, wanna help me out for a second doll?" he asks, creating a small pain in your chest.

his question makes your heart skip a small beat, you were hesitate; before agreeing without any second thought. "okay." you replied, walking over to his yard.

jake sat up in his spot, putting out a tube of cooling liquid. "do me a favor doll and rub this on my abs? i've got a really bad sunburn."

his question made your face flush mixes of red and pink, you didn't know what to say for a second. your hot neighbor wants you to rub a cooling liquid on his abs, he wants you to touch him.

"how come? why can't you do it?" you ask jake, curious as to why he would want you place your delicate hand on his skin.

"cmon doll, you have a soft touch. and not gonna lie it's burning me. would you do it? please pretty?" jake slightly begs, trying to not sound desperate; but also hide the pain of his sunburn.

you feel bad jake was suffering with a really bad sunburn, especially on a delicate place on his body. you pour some of the cooling liquid onto the palm of your hand, before sliding it onto jake's toned, tight, ridged abs.

you stopped as your palm hit his abs, rubbing his abs gently; allowing the cooling liquid to spread. a low groan left jake's lips.

"how's that?" you asked, wondering if your touch alongside the cooling liquid calmed down the burning sensation on his skin.

"thank you doll, i told you that you have a gentle and delicate touch." he bit his lip. "i should burn my abs more often." jake joked, a small laugh leaving his lips.

you playfully rolled "yeah yeah. i'll see you around jae." you began to walk back to your place, that was until jake called back for you.

"doll face, come back here."

you turned back, stepping foot back in his lawn. jake approached you more closer, his hands reached your waist; pulling you closer to him. his eyes met with yours, a flirty smile resting in his lips.

"how about a reward? for being such a good neighbor and helping me out."

"reward? what were you thinking?" you asked curiously.

jake paused, no words left his mouth; before his lips met with yours.

his tongue lapping on yours, his grip on your waist gaining tighter. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your lips crashed. his veiny hands make their way to the bottom of your tank top, caressing the small exposed skin available to touch. his hands made their way under your top, resting onto your lower back.

he pulls away from your lips, a small smirk on his face. "you're so gorgeous.. fuck" he groans before he kisses your neck, sending a rush of desire to you. "are you free later?" he asks, pulling away from your body slightly.

"well i'm going out with some friends later..." you replied, a slight frown falling onto jake's face as he hears your response.

"well cancel them doll, i need every minute i can get to savor every inch of that body." jake smirked, his hands finding its way back to your waist.

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lightsoutnaway · 11 months ago

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Be Patient

PAIRING: Lando Norris x reader

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, blowjob, masturbation, dom/sub dynamics, orgasm denial

SUMMARY: Lando told you to be patient when you wanted to leave the party. On the drive home he’s going to have to be patient. Road head.

WORD COUNT: 1,036

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I am currently accepting requests! send them in (I’ll write for more than who I have so far, you can ask for other drivers)

“Be patient.”

That’s what Lando had said an hour into the party you were at when you told him you wanted to go home. You had whispered it to him, your lips just brushing his ear. You had run your fingers up his abs over his shirt. You knew he knew what you wanted. But it had been several more hours between then and now.

You were in the passenger seat of Lando’s car now. Unfortunately, the drive back to his place was longer than you were willing to tolerate. You knew you weren’t going to make it. You pulled your dress up so that your panties were on display. Lando glanced over at you.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m horny,” you whined. “You made us stay so long.” You started running your fingers over the lace of your panties. Lando’s eyes flashed between you and the road.

“You can’t wait another twenty minutes?” He asked. It was a question, but in his mind there was only one acceptable answer.

“No,” you drawled. That was not what Lando wanted to hear. “I need something.”

“You’re gonna be in big trouble when we get home if you don’t put your dress back down now,” Lando told you firmly. You were rubbing your fingers up and down the thin lace of your panties, legs stretched as wide as they could be in Lando’s passenger seat. You wanted to be in trouble.

You looked over at Lando. He looked gorgeous. He had a tight black button up on. He had rolled the sleeves up halfway through the night giving you a better view of his arms. His necklace was dangling against his chest, visible where Lando hadn’t buttoned up his shirt. His tight black slacks made his ass look amazing all night. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and his scruff was just the length you liked to feel rubbing against your thighs.

You had an idea. You pulled your hand away from yourself and leaned over the console towards Lando. He looked down at you as you reached towards his crotch.

“What are you doing?” Lando asked. You were already pulling at his belt.

“What does it seem like I’m doing?” You teased him.

“I’m driving,” Lando said.

“On the roads. You’re a Formula 1 driver. I imagine that’s more stressful,” you said as you pulled down Lando’s zipper.

“This isn’t safe,” Lando told you. You turned your head up and met his eyes. You placed your hand over his boxers and started to slowly stroke him.

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked. Lando looked at the road. He sighed and looked back at you.

“No,” he admitted. He wasn’t going to let you have all the control though. “If you can make me come by the time we get home I won’t make you wait to come.” You hummed happily and rubbed against him more firmly. Lando moved his arm to let you lean down over him. You started pressing kisses over his boxers. You could feel him getting hard as you began licking where you could feel his tip pressing into his underwear. Lando gasped and you smiled. You leaned back just enough to pull Lando’s boxers down, freeing his now hard cock from his pants.

“You ready, baby?” You called up.

“Don’t tease. You’ll be in trouble,” he said. You giggled before leaning towards him. His hard length slid into your velvety soft mouth and Lando moaned loudly. The car swerved just a bit. You pulled back off him, though you were sure to keep your lips tightened around his length as you did.

“Are you sure you can drive like this?” You asked. Lando reached down and put a hand on the back of your head, pushing you back towards his cock.

“I’m usually going 300 kilometers an hour. I think I can drive with your lips around my cock on an empty road,” Lando said. You smiled as you let him push his cock back into your mouth. You quickly began bobbing your head up and down, careful not to bump the steering wheel. You pumped what you couldn’t fit in your mouth with your hand.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” Lando whined when you swallowed around his cock. You pushed yourself down further and swallowed again and Lando whined loudly. He jerked his hips upwards involuntarily and you gagged on him. You pulled back slightly, catching your breath.

“Sorry,” Lando murmured. He ran his fingers through your hair softly, pushing it back away from your face. He glanced down to see your lips around his cock and groaned in pleasure. He looked back up at the road, knowing if he watched too long he’d be sure to crash. You pulled up slightly and focused your attention on his tip, running your tongue all over him as you sucked.

“You’re so good for me, fuck,” Lando groaned. You could tell he was getting close. You started bobbing up and down again making deep strokes each time. Lando twitched in your mouth. You started moving faster. Lando moaned in pleasure when you let him hit the back of your throat. You reached down with your free hand and took his balls in your hands.

“Oh shit,” Lando moaned. “I’m gonna come,” he warned. You bobbed your head two more times and then pulled off him and sat back in your seat. Lando swerved the car into the opposite lane. He looked over at you and then down at his throbbing cock. You smiled at him smugly.

“What are you doing?” Lando nearly shouted. It seemed to be his favorite thing to ask you.

“I thought you needed to be patient too,” you told him. Lando’s eyes went dark. He turned towards the road, tightened his hold on the steering wheel and slammed on the gas. You felt a shiver run over your body at the change in his attitude. He didn’t look at you again, but when he spoke his voice alone had you buzzing with anticipation.

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

He was right about that, and you were desperate to find out.

#lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine

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wandanatrules · 1 year ago

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My Obedient Little Wife

word count- 1.4k

pairing- dom beefy g!p nat x subby fem reader

summary - Natasha has just made you her wife and she is going to take her time worshipping you

warnings- smut, oral (both receiving), dirty talk, foul language, penetration, humping

note - thank you guys for all the support on my fics! I appreciate those of you who are sending requests. I am going to start working on those asap! please keep sending them in. I am also very grateful for those who message me. I love when you guys talk to me and ask me questions! Please read and interact with all my other fics and I hope you enjoy this one!

“Are you gonna take me to bed Natty?” You asked, looking up at her with those signature doe eyes and the sexy lip biting.

She was carrying you bridal style down the hall of the hotel you were staying at tonight, before you leave for your honeymoon the next morning. Since you had just had your well anticipated wedding, you were ready to finally consummate your marriage and let her claim you as her wife.

“Of course I am Mrs. Romanoff.” She said looking down at you with a smirk before pecking your lips. As soon as she arrived at the hotel room, she quickly unlocked the door eager to get her hands on you.

“You have been teasing me all day, baby girl.” She said throwing you on the king sized bed. “Walking down the aisle to be my wife, and then changing into this tight little dress to grind all on me in front of our family at the reception. You are driving me crazy.”

You sat on your knees on the bed looking up into her lust filled eyes. Feeling the need to touch her, you reached up to grope her chest, using one hand to try and unbutton her shirt. Growing frustrated, you used both hands to just pop the shirt open, buttons flying everywhere, finally getting a look at her chiseled abs, before finally getting her aching bulge in your hand.

“Baby, now you are my bride and I need to worship you, enough about me.” She said moving your hands away, and unzipping your dress. She lifted you up to pull it off completely. She kissed you on your plump lips, much like she did earlier on the altar, making out with you for a little bit, before moving south to your neck.

“I need everyone to know that you are mine and that I own you.” She growled out between the bruises she was leaving on your chest and the trail leading between the valley of your breasts, aiming to leave more love bites there.

“We need to get this off, so I can see these beautiful tits.” Her hand expertly reached behind you and unclipped your bra, letting it fall off and freeing your perky breasts. “Uggh baby, I will never get over how good you look. These plump tits are all for me.” At this point she was laying on your chest with your tits in her mouth, truly relishing the beauty of these attributes. She felt your breath hitch as she slowly bites the hardened bud, before smoothing over it with her tongue.

“Please nat, I need you.” You begged, pushing her head down to the place that you desperately needed it.

“Baby don’t rush, we have the rest of our lives together and tonight I want to take my time with you. She pushed you back down onto the bed, continuing her trail of bruises down your stomach stopping when she got to your pantyclad core.

“Please natty, please I need you.” You whined, rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the ache.

“Now little girl.” She said before ripping your thighs apart, “I was excited to have an obedient little wife, but I guess i’m going to have to teach you.”

She kissed your hips and between your thighs before noticing the wet spot on your white lacy panties, She put her nose on the spot, breathing in your scent before pushing her thumb down onto your clit through the panties. You writhed in pleasure finally feeling her where you need her the most.

She took the string of your panties between her teeth slowly pulling them down your thighs, until she got them off you completely and put them in the pocket of her suit pants.

Leaning down she stuck out her tongue flattening it before licking a stripe down your cunt. She smiled at the taste, not being able to get enough. “Oh my god baby girl, my wife tastes delicious.” She said licking her lips in satisfaction.

Diving in once again, she starts to eat you out like she’s been starved for a year. She harshly grips your hips and circles your puffy clit with her tongue. You buck your hips up trying to get more of her. She pushes you down and holds you there before picking up the pace, with her assault on your clit. She licks your cunt up and down, before sticking her tongue into your tight hole, fucking you slowly. You feel your breath start to hitch and your thighs start to twitch. You and your wife both knew you were close, so she removed her tongue from your cunt and entered two of her fingers, while going back to licking your clit.

After her tirelessly eating your pussy, you were finally to your breaking point. You felt the knot in your stomach unravel and you squirted. Nat removed her fingers from your cunt and used two fingers to quickly rub your pussy, to elongate your orgasm. She stuck her tongue out and tried to catch some of your cum, moaning at the taste.

“My goodness baby, you’re so messy. Look at you squirting all over me, showing off your drooling cunt.” She said flipping you over onto your hands and knees, making you squeal out of surprise.

“Seeing you like this has made me so hard baby, I just need to fuck my wife’s pussy in order to feel better.” She said before licking the cum off your cunt from behind to clean you up. She then pulled off her belt before stripping off her pants and boxers, leaving you both completely naked.

She quickly entered into your dripping hole, your tightness squeezing her deliciously. She was already so worked up from eating you out she could’ve cum already, but lucky for you her stamina was incredible. She picked up her pace, fucking you from behind. She focused her attention on your tight ass, rubbing and fondling your cheeks, while you pushed back onto her cock.

You were panting like a bitch in heat, as she continued to fuck you. You turned your head around to face her looking at how good she looked pounding into you. You pucker your lips signaling your need for a kiss. She leaned forward to kiss you, sloppily making out as you strained your neck. Her hands traveled up to cup your breasts and tweak your nipples.

She picked up the pace, feeling you getting closer as your cunt squeezed her aching prick. You felt her big dick in your intestines, as she pushed on the bulge appearing in your stomach.

The knot in your stomach unraveled for the second time tonight, leaving you to cream all over her cock. She guided your hips backwards to help you through your orgasm and put her over the edge.

“Dammit baby this pussy is so tight, it’s like it was made for me.” She said, slapping your ass and pulling you back deeper, using you as her own personal sex toy. This was enough to send her over the edge, and blow in your cunt. Her hot, wet stream of semen had traveled down your insides and filled your belly.

You got up and turned around, both of you kneeling in front of each other. You looked into her eyes before leaning down to put her penis in your mouth. You sucked on the head before licking the shaft up and down to clean off your shared arousal. She sucked in a breath, still sensitive from her previous orgasm. She grabbed you by the hair holding you there so she could thrust her hips up into your mouth while you gagged on her.

This was one of the most beautiful sights for her to see, so it didn’t take much for her to cum again. Another hot, wet stream of cum sliding down your throat, as you swallowed every thing she gave you. She then pulled you off of her and up by the hair to kiss you again. When the kiss grew heated, you took charge and pushed her back on the bed, straddling her waist. Your clit sat on her dick and you roughly grinded on her while making out. Your tongue entered her mouth as she sucked on it. You were panting in her mouth as you wildly humped her.

“Baby, if we don’t slow down I'm afraid we are gonna have a honeymoon baby.”

#natasha romanoff smut #beefy!nat #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff smut #wandanat #fanfic #wanda maximoff fluff

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the-flaneur · 3 months ago

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hi flan! Could i pleas have charles leclerc and a boiling flask labelled with a sticker (i dont mind a marker if you would prefer) to mix together phosphorous, cobalt and tin with a blue pill and bath water?

double trouble (cl16)

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

phosphorus "you know, i could always get you off here right now" + cobalt "please..." "you need to learn to be better with your words, don't you think? tell me what you really want" + tin "i know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that” & blue pill sub!reader + bath water size kink

warnings: 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut ft. rough sex, public sex (or sex in a public location aka the bathroom), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), size kink, bratty!reader, very little plot

wc: 1865

a/n: first request ever! hope you guys enjoy, and feel free to send me more requests :)

[masterlist] [requests]

the quiet jazz in the restaurant was of little comfort to charles tonight.

usually, he was excited at the prospect of a double date with you, max and max’s girlfriend, eager to be able to catch up properly with his friend and their lives outside of racing (albeit max’s still very racing dominated off time)

however tonight you were being a fucking brat.

you had been teasing him all day, from your grocery shop this morning where you “accidentally” backed into him, rubbing your ass against his bulge, or when you went to take leo on for a walk, and you accidentally bent down too far while scoping up leo’s poop, showing charles your gorgeous lace panties under your skirt, or even just before the date, when you walked into the bedroom, stark naked except your heels, and then cheekily asked if you looked good and then shutting the door so you could change in “peace”

charles was hard, horny and desperate to get his hands on your hips.

so when you started your teasing again, charles knew he had to do something about it.

it being the fact that your hand was trailing up his thigh, your manicure tickling the skin near his bulge, before you pressed a firm two fingers into his bulge and rubbed it.

“merde,” charles groaned quietly, leaning back into the plush booth couch and very grateful that the jazz trio had started their music once again, so that his exclamation remained unknown to max and his girlfriend.

“mmm cherie, please move your fingers away,” charles muttered, trying to grab your wrist, but you giggled, before moving you fingers instead towards his belt, and toying with the buckle.

"you know, i could always get you off here right now,” he bit his lip, watching as you slowly pulling his dress shirt out, revealing his gorgeous waist and lightly defined abs which you loved.

“you say otherwise but you love this, don’t you…imagine me giving you a handjob while our friends are just sitting across from us,” you teased, and charles almost growled aloud at your teasing words, and now he was done with you.

snatching your wrist away from his bulge, pinning them to his lap, before working his own hands beneath your dress

“yeah you would like that you slut, wouldn’t you? me at your mercy for once in your life. well too bad, cause you’re my slut, and my brat to play with tonight,” he whispered, pressing his mouth against your earlobe, before tapping his fingers against your soiled panties

you whimpered softly as charles' words sent shivers down your spine, the touch of his fingers against your damp panties making you clench around nothing, "y-yes... i'm yours," you breathe out, a softness creeping into your voice against your brattiness tonight.

as charles continues to whisper dirty promises, you suddenly feel an urgent need to escape, "wait, i really have to use the restroom," you address the group, trying to sound casual while squirming slightly in your seat and pulling charles’ fingers away.

charles raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "oh? and why's that, little girl?" he leans back, folding his arms across his chest as he watches you intently. "trying to get away from me already?"

you bite your lip, avoiding eye contact as you fidget with the hem of your skirt. max and his girlfriend exchange knowing looks, aware of the brattiness you bring to the relationship and charles’ rough hand to bring you back down to earth.

feeling flustered under their amused gazes, you quickly stand up and make your way towards the restrooms, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. once inside the stall, you take a deep breath, letting the cool air hit your flushed face. leaning against the wall, you run a shaky hand through your hair, attempting to calm your racing heart.

after a few moments, you hear the door creak open behind you. glancing over your shoulder, you spot none other than charles entering the stall, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"well, well, well... looks like my little fucktoy needs some privacy," he says, closing the door behind him and locking it. his voice is low and husky, sending a thrill straight to your core. without warning, he steps closer, his large frame crowding you against the wall.

your breath hitches as charles looms over you, his presence both intimidating and exhilarating. the smell of his cologne mixed with the musk of his skin fills your nostrils, making your head spin.

"what do you think you're doing, coming in here with me?" you manage to stammer, even as your body betrays you, pressing back against the cold tile in a futile attempt to create distance from his overwhelming nature.

charles chuckles darkly, his hands finding your hips and gripping them tightly. "i could ask you the same thing, sweetheart. you're the one who insistently teased me on this little alone time."

he leans in, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "but since we're here together, let's put that pretty pussy of yours to good use, hmm?"

“please…” you whimpered pathetically, watching in a haze of arousal as charles rips your delicate panties to shreds, the torn fabric fluttering to the floor. your cheeks burn with shame and desire as he teases your sensitive clit with a single finger, circling the swollen bud with maddening slowness.

"you need to learn to be better with your words, don't you think? tell me what you really want," he growls, tracing his fingers maddeningly close and smirks when you attempt to push yourself down onto him.

"i-i want... i want you to fuck me," you admit, the words tumbling out in a rush, "please, charles... use me. make me yours..."

his dark chuckle vibrates against your skin as he presses harder against your clit, coaxing out more of your needy whimpers, "that's more like it, baby girl. now, let's see if you can handle something a bit bigger than just my fingers, shall we?"

"i-i want... i want you to fuck me," you admit, the words tumbling out in a rush, "please, charles... use me. make me yours..."

gasping sharply, you nod eagerly, craving the sensation of being stretched wide by charles's girthy cock. the thought sends a jolt of liquid heat pooling between your thighs. "yes, please... i need it," you plead, spreading your legs further apart in invitation. "fill me up, charles,"

with a wicked grin, he frees his impressive erection from his pants, the thick shaft bobbing menacingly as he lines it up with your entrance. "brace yourself, darling," he warns, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure.

then, with a powerful thrust, he sheathes himself fully inside you, the sheer size of him forcing a strangled cry from your throat. you cling to him desperately, nails digging into his back as he begins to move, each deep stroke dragging you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

you cry out loudly as charles plunges deeper, the stretch of his massive cock tearing a raw moan from your throat. each brutal thrust hits a spot within you that sets off sparks of electric pleasure, making your toes curl and your back arch involuntarily. you attempt to clasp a hand over your mouth, trying to curb the wanton noises escaping between your lips, but charles has none off that.

"i know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that," charles purrs, his lips brushing against your ear as he pounds into you relentlessly. "let me hear how much you love taking my big dick,"

despite your best efforts to keep quiet, your quickly body betrays you, moans spilling past your lips with every merciless stroke. the shame only adds to your arousal, your inner walls clenching tighter around charles's throbbing length as he fucks you with wild abandon.

"you're so fucking tight, baby,"

wailing shamelessly as charles ravages your aching cunt, you lose yourself in the overwhelming sensations coursing through your veins. the obscene slap of flesh against flesh echoes through the small stall, mingling with your desperate cries and charles's guttural grunts.

"so full... oh god, charles!" you keen, fingernails raking down his muscular back hard enough to leave marks. "fuck me harder!" he obliges with a feral growl, pistoning his hips faster, driving his huge cock impossibly deeper. your vision starts to blur at the edges as the coil of tension in your belly winds tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

"gonna cum soon, aren't you?" charles rasps, nipping at your neck roughly. "go ahead, slut. cum all over my fat cock."

with a final keening wail, your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, every muscle seizing up as pure ecstasy consumes you whole. your pussy spasms violently around charles's enormous shaft, milking him as you convulse helplessly in his arms.

"f-fuuuuck!" you sob brokenly, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as the intense pleasure borders on pain. it feels like charles is splitting you open, reshaping your insides to fit him perfectly.

in response, he snarls savagely, burying himself to the hilt one last time before erupting deep within you. thick ropes of molten seed paint your quivering walls, marking you as his property in the most primal way possible.

shuddering through the aftershocks of your climax, you feel charles' hot release flooding your already oversensitive pussy. the sensation of his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he pumps you full of cum only heightens your bliss, leaving you limp and boneless in his grasp.

as charles slowly softens inside you, he pulls out with a wet pop, his spent cock glistening with your combined fluids. you can't help but gaze up at him

"look at you," charles murmurs, tucking his softening member back into his pants. "such a good little cumslut, taking everything i give you without complaint." he smirks, adjusting his clothing with a satisfied air.

still reeling from the intense fucking with charles, you stumble out of the bathrom, blinking in the bright lights of the restaurant. to your surprise, max and his girlfriend are nowhere to be seen, the table where you ate is cleared of their presence.

a folded piece of paper catches your eye, sitting atop the now-clean tablecloth. curious, you pick it up and read the brief message scrawled across the page:

we know how much fun you guys like to have so here's dinner on us, but you owe us for next time ;)

a flush rises to your cheeks at the implication, and you quickly crumple the note, tossing it aside. just then, charles appears beside your shoulder, looking every inch the self-assured boyfriend once more.

"well, looks like our friends made themselves scarce," he remarks, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

“wanna go back home for round 2?”

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma

#⭑ : my work.ᐟ #the-flaneur #chemical attraction ♥︎#smut #x reader #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you

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