#i feel a little nervous though since i know he's been through a lot+ there's a few other girls in canon he seemed to be head over heels for

[jonquilyst]

Day 3 - Socialization Day

Morning, kids! With our first challenge behind us and teams now formed, we have another socialization day to give the opportunity for the teams to get to know each other! Brendan (SU) and Touma (OD) didn't get the memo though, because they ended up having having a nice chat!

After breakfast, the contestants held another dance party in first class! But Josue (SU) had a little too much to eat this morning, so he ended up having to sit out on the festivities this time.

Team Success took great measures to bond with each other today and had a long discussion in the mess hall, with Espresso (SU) eventually joining them (though Touma still has not gotten the team-bonding memo and hung out with the Successors instead).

While Touma was busy chatting up with Team Success, his own team was playing games together in first class. Nite (OD) and Raylan (OD) were fighting it out in Party Frenzy, while Tomiko (OD) decided to play by herself on the PC.

Espresso later joined them after joining her teammates' discussion, where Maeve (SU) attempted to bond with her by showing a funny video. However, given Espresso's sad moodlet about Maeve, I believe the smile she was wearing here might have been fake... 😬

Team Success was not the only one to make strides among themselves today. Team Integrity, Elio (IN) in particular, also took measures to bond with each other. Elio had a nice convo with Avery (IN) and Matteo (IN) showed Elio a funny video at dinnertime. Nice!

Overall, this team-bonding socialization day was a success. The teams are closer amongst one another than they were yesterday! And that'll benefit them, because tomorrow is when the competition truly begins... Our first battle of the teams, and our first elimination, awaits tomorrow at our next destination. Stay tuned... 🤭

Today's Confessional: Marilyn Moore

"Okay, not gonna lie; I'm nervous for tomorrow's challenge. When I signed up for Total Drama Sims, I thought the "drama" part was acting-related, not social and falling-on-your-face drama, if you know what I mean. The first challenge was okay, I mean- all we had to do was run through a maze, but I have a feeling that was, like, the easy challenge, y'know?"

"But the idea of making new friends and winning the grand prize sounds totally awesome! Like- the social part can't be different than school... Since I'm here and can't exactly leave, I might as well treat this like it's school, right? I have a lot of friends in school, so who's to say the people here won't like me too? But... ugh! I just don't want my clothes or my hair to get ruined in the challenges!"

@sanitysims @nakasumi-sims @hellogreta @simstagramsomeone @bloomingkyras

@paracosmic-sims @simsinfinitylt @changingplumbob @aliengirl @riverofjazzsims

@kissalopa @kari-sims @aniraklova @matchalovertrait

[windsson]

He doesn���t appreciate what Bruno saying that does to him. It shouldn’t! They aren’t even like that- Bruno was talking about touching his face, idiot. What made it more frustrating is Makani has no idea if blushing is visible on him; he knew from people saying it that blushing made you pink, but not only did he have no clue what pink even looked like any more, but he had no idea if blushing made him pink.

He knew he had to be blushing though, he could feel it in his face, remnants of a lightning bolt that went straight from his head down to his toes in an instant. He just prays it dissipates quickly- he was being weird, and he didn’t even mean to do that, anyway. He didn’t want his new friend getting the wrong idea- he was the only friend he had, after all, if he lost Bruno he’d be…alone again.

To try to brush it off, Makani laughs down at the ground, shrugging a shoulder.

“Well, you really can’t get as much information from doing that as you’d think- I mean, I have no idea what I look like, and I can touch my own face whenever I want. But yeah, actually, maybe just for a second, it couldn’t hurt.” He’s trying to play it off casually. Just two bros touching faces alone together, nothing weird about this.

He continues to talk through it as well as another way of making it feel less awkward, or at least that’s how it starts, but Makani’s sincerity don’t let him feel awkward for too long. He did genuinely want to do this, the last time he had was…gosh, maybe 13 years old? He didn’t get to connect with people like this. Makani was always distant from people, in his own world, the only touch he ever received usually being harsh grabs on the wrist from his father (the ring of bruises on his right arm being proof enough of that.) Makani wanted connection, he wanted physical contact, he wanted any kind of belonging that didn’t make him feel utterly left out. He had been in too many rooms crowded with people and felt utterly alone.

“I really am happy, by the way- I’m sorry if you were nervous to do all this,” he says, very tenderly and apprehensively putting his hands on the sides of Bruno’s face to start.

“I know this won’t happen in a day, but man, this is the first time in my life I haven’t been scared for the future. I know what’s coming and it’s- woah, you need to shave, dude,” he stops and laughs.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding! I wish I could grow facial hair- it never comes in right so I just gave up.” Bruno’s cheeks are more sallow than Makani envisioned- he was entirely smaller to hold than he imagined. His nose felt similar to his own, which Makani thought meant Bruno must have a big nose- his father had told Makani he had a big nose, anyway. He wouldn’t say anything since it sounded like a bad thing, not that it ever mattered to himself.

The yammering to break the tension, if there was any, gets slower and more sparse the longer he goes, concentrating harder and getting a little lost in the sensation, and trying to fit together a mental image of his friend. He stops completely, however, when the back of his hand brushes against Bruno’s hair.

“I’m sure we’ve got a lot to uh, to…talk about, though- with this. I don’t know what your…your family will say, this is weird news to get, and I- woah!…Gosh, your hair is soft! How do you DO this?” He excitedly gets two gentle handfuls of each, his excited-rambling voice coming back for just a second before he realizes how odd he’s being.

Makani let’s go and puts his hands in his lap, clearing his throat and smiling politely.

“I’m sorry- I just said a second and I uh…thank you, in any case-but no, um,” he tucks his hair behind one of his ear, definitely not as soft, continuing,

“This is…wild. I-I mean how is this even going to happen? D-Does anyone even want me here? Where would I be, how does…” he laughs a little, incredulously, “This is so incredible but I don’t know how I’m supposed to be feeling right now. Wh-What do we do now?”

“Dude. That was the greatest thing I’ve ever got to be a part of.”

In comparison to his nervous friend’s upright posture, Makani was catching his breath leaning back onto his elbows, and by the state of his hair, he had been through a tornado. It was wrapped around his face like a fishnet, Makani needing a moment to get some strands out of his mouth.

“I get to stay…I get to- Bruno, are you even hearing yourself? I get to stay!” He crawls over to where Bruno had shuffled off to, intending to reach out to (happily) shake some sense into Bruno, but his thoughts get interrupted when his hand collides with something.

“No matter what, this is good news, I just wish I knew h- ah- oh, what’s this…thing?”

He runs his hands over the glass, feeling the etches on its surface and tracing vague shapes with his fingertips.

“Where did you get this…metal? No, wait…” he taps his knuckle against it, “Glass. It’s like…an upside-down house, and an upside-down pers- wait!”

He grabs the glass plate off of Bruno’s lap and flips it right-side-up for himself, putting it down on his own lap and tracing his fingers as if he were reading in Braille.

“You said it was me, in front of your house, walking down a…yeah! Okay! This is the road, yeah? So this little thing in the middle is me!”

He was so small in the frame, his fingers couldn’t make out a ton of detail in the face, but Makani still eagerly swiped over the picture to try to intuit any kind of information about the drawing.

“Wow, my hair feels long. Do I just keep growing it out?” He laughs a little, chin still raised in concentration to try to turn the abstract feelings in his fingers into something more tangible.

“I know like, vaguely what I look like? The last time I saw myself I was 8 years old, so I’m always guessing- it’s not as important to me as it used to be, but I do still wonder, sometimes,” he chuckles. He does allow himself a few seconds to trace the mysterious hand, fading into a blob of just smooth, unmarked glass. Of course he was curious about that, and he’d ask questions and wonder in due time, but his excitement over this revelation meant the little questions could wait.

I get to stay. I’m safe.

He was going to sorry about the details later; including that it was kind of weird to learn he was about to start living with these people he’s known for a month, whose hand was he holding and why (and trying not to be disappointed with the reality that someone was probably guiding him somewhere, Occam meet razor,) no, right now he was going to allow himself to just be happy and excited for a moment.

He didn’t understand why Bruno was so nervous before, this couldn’t have gone any better.

“I know you probably have some important stuff to tell me about this, but give me just a second to do something stupid before any bad news,” he says with a smile, trying to subtly get across to Bruno that he wasn’t mad, he liked the fortune, no one was in trouble. “Do you wanna hear something stupid about me? Then it’s serious time, I promise.”

Makani puts his fingertips back on the rendering of his face, no way of really being certain if Bruno’s magic-fortune-telling-glass-wind-sand-thingy had actually rendered him accurately. He snickers down by his chest, clearly embarrassed about whatever he was going to say, but wanting to tell nonetheless.

“What I’ve been doing with this thing, trying to like, feel what I look like, I definitely did this to your door before you answered it,” he laughs at himself, “I didn’t know it was carved! And when I realized it was you, I was trying to gather all the I formation I could in…5 seconds. I was just trying to figure out what you looked like…from a door, so probably not super close, yeah?”

[hairmetal666]

"But why is he here all the time," he whines to Robin. She doesn't like him much, but Scoops is empty, and what else is he supposed to do? Not speak to her at all?

"Why do you care what Eddie Munson is doing at the mall."

"I don't care." He scoffs, rolls his eyes. "He's just always here. Doesn't he have anything better to do?"

"Do you?"

"He doesn't work here."

"Haven't seen you doing a lot of work here, Steve."

"You spent forty minutes yesterday drawing on your sneakers."

She shakes her head, but doesn't say anything because he's right and she knows it.

He goes back to staring at Munson, sitting on the edge of the fountain. He's relaxed back, legs spread, looking like he owns the place. The way he's leaning, his t-shirt rides up, showing a tantalizing glimpse of pale skin and the lightest dusting of hair. He doesn't remember his mouth being so dry before.

"You're such an idiot." Robin smacks herself down beside him. "Eddie's a good guy. Is this just because he's the freak and you're King Steve?"

"No!" He says it too loud, a few people in the foodcourt turn to stare. "I'm not that guy anymore. That's all just--" he flaps his hand, can't find the words.

She makes a disbelieving noise, eyes narrow. "I'll never forgive you if you hurt him."

Robin stomps off to the backroom before he can stop her, tell her he doesn't want to hurt Munson.

One of Eddie's friends says something that has Eddie stretching back to hear, pulling his shirt higher, flashing the dark line of a tattoo, and that's too much, that has him slamming his eyes closed, rubbing at his brow but all he can think is--

cold cinder block at his back, hot mouths and fumbling hands and long, deft fingers; desperate, bitten off moans; hands fisted into long curls; the hot, bittersweet taste of him

It was only a handful of times, quick encounters in the locker room, once under the bleachers in the gym. And Steve, he'd never--it didn't mean anything, but it meant everything, and Eddie's been all he can think of for months.

A group of middle school girls comes in, then, and he forgets about Munson as he scoops ice cream and blends milkshakes. The next time he looks to the fountain, Eddie is gone

---

Steve cleans up the remnants of a dropped milkshake at the store entrance, and his shorts are a little too tight, okay, he can feel the way they pull around his hips when he bends too much, but he has to clean the tile before the rush starts and customers complain. There's one spot, though, it's already dried, has to really put his back into it.

The food court is crowded by the time he finishes, bustling with customers. He turns to grab the bucket, and stops dead in his tracks. Munson sits on one of the built-in planters directly behind him. He was staring at Steve's polyester clad ass, but now his eyes travel up Steve's body, getting darker with desire as they go.

He's trapped in place by the force of Eddie's gaze, by the want there. They stare at each other in silence, Steve's blood thumping a vigorous rhythm.

The moment breaks when Robin's voice, calling his name, catches his attention. He turns back to his work without a word, but inside he's reeling.

---

Steve's opening alone, comes out from the back, and there Eddie is, lounging on the fountain rim with a magazine in hand. It's been a couple of days since he's been around, not since the incident. He watches as Munson languidly flips through the pages, seeming not to have a care in the world, and he--

Well, he's never really had to wait around for something he wants.

He stalks over to the fountain, stops when the tips of his sneakers touch the toes of Eddie's boots. And, yeah, he's in his dorky sailor outfit, but Munson didn't seem to mind the other day. Steve thinks maybe he likes it.

"Munson," he says. His hands are on his hips.

Eddie looks up, slow, taking Steve in. He leans back further, crosses his legs at the ankle. "Harrington."

They stare at each other. Steve starts biting his lip. Not as a move--he's nervous, suddenly, that all of this is a waste and Eddie isn't interested--but Munson's gaze hooks on his mouth, lingers, like a warm caress.

Steve's never initiated things between them before, isn't sure if it's working. He takes the chance, though, starts walking away.

He crosses through the seating area, past the counter, into the back, doesn't know for sure if Eddie is following until the door doesn't close right away behind him.

There's a single beat of a second where they watch each other and neither moves, before Eddie is on him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him into the wall.

"What the fuck is this, Harrington, huh?" They're close enough for their noses to touch. "You ignore me for months and now--"

"You're here all the fucking time," he snaps back. "Sitting in the same spot like you own the place."

"So, I'm not allowed to be at the mall now?" Eddie sneers. "God forbid I'm in sight of the king."

Steve tries to pull away. "That's not what this is, and you know it."

"Then what is it, Stevie? Spell it out for me real slow to make sure I understand." He leans in, a little, and Steve stops breathing.

Eddie's lips brush his, a gentle press that isn't quite a kiss, not yet. His knees go weak, the wall at his back the only thing holding him up, but the kiss doesn't deepen. Instead, Eddie steps back, laughs. "You think I'm this easy, sweetheart? That you can lure me with your little sailor costume and I'll come without a fight?"

"Am I wrong?"

Eddie scoffs, turns his head, and Steve thinks he overplayed it, that his misread everything.

"Fuck you, Harrington." Eddie grabs him, then, hands fisting into his sailor shirt. "Fuck you and this stupid, sexy outfit. Fuck you for knowing this would work on me."

His mouth presses against Steve's throat, and he moans, clinging to Eddie's jacket.

"Listen to you, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs. "Making all those desperate, pathetic sounds for me. Almost like you missed me or something."

"I did." He groans as Eddie's mouth moves along his jaw. "Missed you so much, haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

Eddie sinks his teeth into Steve's cheek, and he has to stifle his shout. He's harder than he can remember ever being before, thinks he could come just from the feel of Eddie's teeth in his skin.

"That's not what you told Billy," Eddie says. "When he almost caught us."

"I didn't want him to hurt you," he gasps. "I--I didn't want him to have a reason."

Eddie pulls away, Steve grasping after him. "I can handle Hargrove."

"He hit me in the head with a plate." Steve points to the small scar on his forehead. "That's how I got that concussion last year."

"Oh," Eddie blinks. He cards his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling it out of the way to see the scar better. "Sweetheart. I thought--" he swallows, throat working. "I--I keep coming here to see you. I wanted--"

His hand falls to Steve's neck, drawing him in. For a second, Steve thinks it's another tease, but Eddie does kiss him this time. It's deep, desperate, so thorough he thinks Eddie's memorizing the taste of him. He doesn't want it to ever stop, not for a second.

Outside, someone starts hammering on the counter bell, shouting for service.

They slip apart, Eddie still gently cradling the back of Steve's neck. "Come over tonight?" Eddie's eyes are so dark, wanting, he could drown in them.

"Yes." Because there is no other answer.

He lets Eddie out the back door just as Robin yells from the front, "Harrington! We have a customer! I haven't clocked in yet!"

"Be right there," he yells back, but not fast enough that she doesn't catch a glimpse of Eddie slipping out.

She whirls to him, brow in an angry furrow. "Steve! I told you not to hurt him!"

He can't stop his smile. "Buckley, I promise you, Munson can take care of himself."

[evie-sturns]

first date - Matt Sturniolo

summary: after a perfect first date with matt, the last thing you expected is for him to make such a big move after he drives you home, you definitely aren't complaining after though,

contains: fluff, an intense makeout session, shy!matt (to an extent) swearing.

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

tonight had just been perfect,

i met matt at a party last week, and i couldn’t say no to his somewhat amusingly awkward self as he asked for my number.

he was just my type, his loose brown waves draped over his forehead, his earrings catching the light from the party and sparkling, and his shy demeanour.

he messaged me a day ago, asking if i wanted to go out for dinner with him, which i obviously agreed to.

10:21pm

i shivered in the cool air of the night, smiling up at matt as he ordered you both an ice-cream cone,

“you cold?” matt asks softly, i nod as i sink my top teeth into my bottom lip as a weak attempt to stop the chattering of my teeth.

“a little bit,” i laugh,

matt instantly takes off his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders,

“why didn’t you bring a coat? it’s like the middle of december.” he scoffs, nudging my elbow slightly.

“shuuush, i didn’t know you’d take me out for icecream at like- midnight!” i throw my hands up defensively,

“righhttt.” he grins down at me.

-

the night was coming to a close as you jumped into the passenger seat of matt’s car, clutching an icecream cone in your hand as you fiddled with the seatbelt.

“you okay?” he asks, starting up the car.

“yeah- i’m still cold though.” i roll my eyes playfully, matt instantly reaches out and fiddles with the heating, cranking it up.

“wait what the fuck- since when did i have the option to have heated seats!” he exclaims, his jaw slack as he pushes the button.

“ew matt! my butts warm now.” i groan, instantly turning off the button.

matt laughs loudly as he pulls out of the parking lot, staring the drive home.

i look over at him a couple times, his ringed fingers gripping the steering wheel catching my eye.

i’m definitely staring now.

his hands were perfect, he was perfect. i genuinely did not catch one wrong thing about him from the date.

he was shy, but the right amount of shy, i could tell he was starting to get more comfortable around me, which i liked.

matt pulls onto the highway, the car roaring as he accelerates.

i continue to work at my icecream cone, trying to stop the massive staring problem i’ve picked up.

matt’s playlist plays through the car, his knee bobbing up and down as he listens to it.

“you live down here right?” matt asks, pulling off the highway into a small neighbourhood.

“you remembered!” i grin,

“of course i did.” he speaks back, his tone light hearted.

“i’m just down here.” i say, pointing to a street sign.

he pulls into the street, his car slowing down as he scans the row of houses.

he parks the car in front of my house. swallowing lightly as he turns off the car.

“thank you- so much for tonight matt.” i say, my tongue darting out to lick my lips,

“yeah- yeah no problem..” he whispers,

“we should do it again soon.” i speak, matt nods.

“i’ll text you, okay?” he says, a nervous smile on his face.

“okay- yeah.” i grin, a undeniable tension building in the car…

i grab my purse and reach for the door, but matt clears his throat.

i look over my shoulder at him, he looks nervous as shit.

he reaches up and cups my jaw, the cold metal of his rings pressing against my flushed cheek.

he leans over the centre console and presses a kiss to my lips.

he pulls away pretty quickly, knowing this is the first date and we shouldn’t do any more… right?

but for some reason, the feeling of his lips on mine linger.

i stare at his lips, not moving.

i need more.

i know i’m going to have to initiate something, knowing he’s to shy to make a lot of moves.

“can- can we do that again?” i speak, my voice hoarse as i break the silence.

he nods instantly, his hands clenching by his sides.

i lean back over the centre console, grabbing his chin as i press my lips to his again.

my face heats up instantly, pure ecstasy flooding through my body.

he deepens the kiss, his head tilting to the side as our noses brush.

goosebumps cover my arms as his tongue slides over my lip, practically begging for entry.

i don’t know what comes over me, but in a matter of seconds i’m climbing over the seats,

i sit down on matt’s lap, straddling him as i break the kiss.

he stares up at me, his eyes wide and full of need.

he grabs the back of my head, instantly reconnecting our lips.

“fuck..” he whimpers against my lips,

i feel a familiar heat growing between my thighs, my skirt riding up my legs as i practically devour him with my lips.

he just tastes so, so good.

his hands paw at my waist, grabbing the fabric of my thin shirt as he holds me.

i subconsciously rock my hips against his thigh.

he gasps against my lips as i grind against his clothed thigh.

“oh my god..” i whisper against his lips as i pathetically rub myself against his leg.

i feel myself getting too into it, not wanting to rush him on the first date.

i break the kiss, the windows now foggy.

he looks up at me with pure desperation.

god he looks hot.

his lips are smeared with my red lipstick, the pigment messily coating his chin. his eyes are narrow and hungry, and his hands are gripping my waist, tight.

i reach up and wipe his lips, trying to remove the lipstick stains.

“i’ll- i’ll uh- okay- um-“ matt stammers,

“i’ll- i’ll text you.” he croaks out, his hands sinking into my waist.

“okay- okay.” i breathe,

i quickly crawl back over the centre console and grab my purse.

i look back at matt over my shoulder, his lips are puffy and red.

his hair is dishevelled, and as my eyes travel down his body.

he is most definitely hard.

i grin at him before swinging open the car door,

“b-bye- bye!” he calls out shakily,

“bye matt-!” i smile as i step out onto the footpath, shutting the car door behind me.

i jog up to my house, my heels clicking on the driveway.

i swing open my front door and suck in a well needed deep breath.

i walk over to my couch, and before i even have the time to sit down my phone vibrates frantically in my pocket.

5 new messages from - Matt

my eyes scan over the messages, which read.

“come back to the car”

“i seriously need you right now this isn’t funny”

“please”

“i’m still parked outside please”

“i’ll literally do anything.”

and before i know it, i’m rushing for my front door and running down the driveway towards matt’s car.

——-

@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnn n @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow w @mattfangirl girl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover er @solarsturniolo larsturniolo lo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette e @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonlybitch @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101saroona a @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 1 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall john @raysmayhem-72

[s1m0nth3swag]

Francis Mosses x GN!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE; Haven't written in a while, but thanks to Arlo, a friend (Hi Arlo, I know you're reading this), Inspiration about Francis Mosses struck (he bought me That's not my neighbor and then continued to freak out about Francis with me) so I wrote this. I have so many thoughts about Francis, so... tell me if you want more because i will deliver ngl. Enjoy (or don't, I don't dictate your feelings)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with little to no plot, Submissive Francis, a little non-consensual at the start (but not in a super weird way, imo?), Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, tried to write as GN as possible with the compliments and thoughts about Readers appearance), not proofread nor have I thought about this much, more a drabble than an actual thoughtful story (not apologising because I had such a long break from writing anything and obviously it's gonna suck a little when I come back)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

The first time Francis had realised that he hadn't gotten any touch from another human being was when someone brushed up against him on his way home from work. He had felt like a creep afterwards because he hadn't stopped thinking about what could've happened if the person hadn't moved away and had just stayed pressed against him. That was a week before you started your job as a doorman.

The second time Francis had noticed was when a friend of his had spoken to him on the phone, talking about his new girlfriend. Said friend gave too much intel on their sex life. Francis had wondered if he could have someone the way his friend explained - he quickly brushed the thought off. That was two days before you started working as a doorman.

The third time, he noticed when you had smiled at him. It was your first day, and he was tired from work. You had repeated his name after reading it off of his ID, and he had looked at you for the first time since his eyes kept falling closed, and you smiled so brightly. You had told him his name was nice, and you said it again. Francis swore that the way his name rolled off your tongue was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Not even an angel could sound more wonderful. Suddenly, he was a lot more energised. Totally not thanks to the fact that he had immediately grown hard the second he had seen your smile. He had gone to his apartment that night and had jerked off for the first time in probably months. He had always been too tired to previously, but now he couldn't stop thinking about how you'd sound moaning his name. Maybe you were more of a groaner, or you'd whimper and whine. He came as he imagined how you'd look sucking his dick.

Since then, Francis has always looked forward to entry checks. What had normally kept him away from his bed and a good night's sleep was now the best experience of his day. He loved the way you spoke to him even though he was too nervous to respond. Sometimes, he deliberately didn't show his ID at first, just so you'd ask about it, and he could listen to you talk a little more. He felt guilty about it. He knew you had never agreed to feed into this weird little obsession of his. It was awful of him to do this - have you talk to him enough to give him more scenarios to think about that night.

A few weeks after all this had started, Francis had built up the courage to finally ask you out. Just something simple, dinner at his place. He had to cook for himself all the time. Cooking for you as well wouldn't be too different, right?

Francis was wrong. He was anxious that the food wouldn't taste good and kept tasting it just so he could make sure it hadn't mysteriously switched tastes in the last 20 seconds. When you knocked on his door, he took a minute to make sure he didn't look like a mess - though you wouldn't mind either way since he always looked like a mess when he came through during your shifts.

You looked so good when he opened the door. Your hair fell perfectly, your lips looked a little too kissable, and Francis had to stop his train of thought just so he wouldn't embarrass himself by having yet another boner caused by just the way you looked. You were a little shorter than him, smiling up as he let you inside.

"You look good." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. He seriously had to lay off thinking like a high-schooler. His nervousness and awkwardness were getting really annoying - to him, at least. You grinned, chuckling softly as you took off your shoes. "Thank you. You do as well." His heart for sure burst at that - he knew something else would burst as well if he didn't stop thinking right this second.

Throughout the evening, ignoring his thoughts came easier and easier. The two of you had eaten, you had told him he was a good cook, he had almost excused himself to the bathroom because of it. Now you were sitting on the couch, drinking wine and talking casually.

"You know, when you first walked through, I swore I would die." You giggled, looking at him with a mischievous look. Francis was confused by that statement. "How come?" He asked, tilting his head at you in question. "I was sure you were a doppelganger. You looked too handsome to be real." You cheekily answered, cheeks slightly flushed as you downed your wine. Francis blushed heavily, looked away from you, and thought about your words for a moment. The silence was loud as he wondered what to answer. "..you think I'm handsome?" He questioned while looking at the floor. If he had looked at you, he'd have seen the way you stared at him, your own cheeks coloured a deep red. "Extremely." You muttered. It took him a minute before he could look at you, but when he did, his lips pressed against yours in a desperate kiss.

When you reciprocated, Francis groaned and pulled you closer until you sat on his lap. He was just a tiny bit embarrassed when you gasped and felt his dick press against you. In all honesty, he had held back the entire night, and he was allowed a little selfishness. "Sorry. Can't help it." He muttered between kisses. You just grinned against his lips before grinding against him. A whimper fell from his lips - that was the moment he was actually embarrassed. "That's cute.." You had mumbled, a cheeky grin on your face as you started placing kisses against his jaw and neck. One of your hands trailed down his body to rest right over his crotch, Francis unconsciously bucked his hips up against your hand, whining. He didn't notice anything else as you caught the skin of his neck with your teeth carefully, leaving the softest bite mark on him. He shuddered at the feeling and gasped before realising that you had meanwhile unzipped his pants. A groan slipped from his lips as you ran a finger over his dick, still hidden from sight by his boxers, but god knows he would cum the second you'd touch it without. "Is this okay?" You asked him, and he nodded faster than he even knew he could. "Yes. God, yes. Please, please continue.." he muttered, his breathing heavy as he watched you slide off his lap, settling in front of him and between his legs. His dick twitched at the sight, and he let out a heavy sigh. Minutes later, his pants and boxers were discarded, and the way you looked up at him, his dick so close to your face, made Francis feel the way his orgasm was approaching way too quick. The second you wrapped your hand around him he whined pathetically, bucked up into your hand and knew that he'd definitely cum too soon. Your hand was so soft, cool against his hot flesh, and you worked his dick so good he almost thought you were a professional. He looked down at you through lidded eyes, watched the way you bit your lip, and grinned knowingly. "Such a pretty boy, huh?" You chuckled, and that definitely sealed the deal for Francis. He came, probably ruining his shirt as he dirtied both it and your hand. His heart stopped for a second when you licked your hand while looking up at him. "You didn't give me enough time to taste you properly. Don't look at me like that." You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You should probably take off your shirt so you can clean it later." You then winked. He swiftly shed the piece of clothing, entranced by your voice and the way you looked. "Sorry, didn't mean to cum that fast.." he mutters, his voice out of breath. "Jus'.. unused to... this.." he added, clearing his throat awkwardly. You laughed and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. We have all the time in the world to make you last longer. I'm gonna give you a real reason to be tired tomorrow." You winked.

Francis didn't even mind that he was in for a long night.

Your honour I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

[greengoblinswifey]

Steamy Nights—Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you’re a sheltered college student who recently got your first job as a housekeeper at a fancy hotel. you stumble upon Nicholas Chavez while cleaning and he invites you to his hot tub in his room where one thing leads to another. based on this request.

warnings— age gap(reader is 19) praise kink, slight body worship, fingering, oral(f!receiving), daddy kink, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, creampie, aftercare.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

It had been a few weeks since you left your hometown and the ever-watchful eyes of your parents. You were finally in college, away from the suffocating grip of your sheltered upbringing. Now, you were free—free to explore, meet new people, and experience the world on your own terms. You'd always been the quiet, reserved type, but something inside you wanted to change that. You were ready to break out of your shell, to do what everyone else seemed to be doing, partying, flirting, and fucking.

You'd just landed your first job, working as a housekeeper at one of the fanciest hotels in the city. The kind of place where top CEOs, celebrities, and influencers stayed. The pay was decent, and it gave you the freedom you longed for, even though you were still adjusting to the hustle of your new life. You had a lot of cleaning to do, and the hours passed by quickly, but today was different. You were already thinking about the freedom you'd have once your shift was over, but you hadn't expected to find what you did next.

As you entered another room to clean, you realized there was no “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging from the door handle. You assumed it was just another room to tidy, so you entered without hesitation. The sight that greeted you, however, left you frozen.

The man standing before you was unreal. His body was sculpted like a Greek statue, muscles rippling under his damp skin, droplets of water glistening on his chest. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. For a moment, you couldn't find your voice.

“Sorry! I—I’m so sorry,” you stammered, your face flushed. “There wasn't a sign on the door and I just thought—”

You tried to turn away quickly, but your gaze was fixed on him, unable to tear yourself away from his presence. Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but be entranced by his sharp features, the way the towel clung to his waist.

He chuckled softly, his deep voice sending a wave of warmth through your body. “It's fine, princess. Why so nervous?” he asked, his smirk playful yet intense.

You swallowed hard, trying to collect yourself. “I, um, I’m sorry, really.”

He took a step closer, and your breath hitched as he looked you over with what felt like a mixture of curiosity and awe. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “I'm Nicholas by the way, Nicholas Chavez.”

You blinked, a realization dawning on you. Nicholas Chavez. The famous actor. You’d seen him on billboards, in tv shows, and even heard girls talk about him endlessly. He was everywhere. And now, here he was, standing before you in nothing but a towel.

“I, uh, I know who you are,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up even more.

He smiled, eyes softening as he looked at you. “Good. You have a name?”

“Yeah, it's Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said smoothly, his voice low. He took a small step toward you, and you felt your pulse quicken. “So, how old are you?” he asked casually, his gaze lingering on you.

“I’m nineteen,” you replied, feeling a little shy under his attention.

He chuckled, his gaze never leaving you. “Nineteen, huh? You're—full of surprises.”

You blinked, unsure what he meant by that, but his next words made your heart skip a beat.

“How about this,” he said with a sly grin. “When your shift is over, come find me. My private hot tub’s always open. I’ll be waiting.”

For a moment, you hesitated, your mind racing. You’d always been the shy, sheltered girl, but something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, it made you feel different. More alive. Maybe this was your chance to break free from your past, to do something bold.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”

His smile widened, and he gave you a wink before turning away, heading back to the bed. “The door’s always open for you,” he said over his shoulder as he flopped onto the bed, his gaze lingering on you. “Take your time.”

You felt a rush of excitement and nerves all at once. You finished your cleaning quickly, your thoughts buzzing with what was to come. You couldn’t stop thinking about him—about his body, his voice, the way he had looked at you. You felt like you were about to step into a new chapter of your life, one that you had been longing for.

The hours passed slowly, but finally, it was time. You’d made sure to pick out a sexy bathing suit, to wear underneath your clothes. As you approached his room, your heart raced with anticipation. You unlocked the door with your housekeeper’s key and pushed it open, your eyes immediately falling on him.

Nicholas was there, lounging on the bed in nothing but his trunks, his body looking just as perfect as before. He looked up and saw you standing there, and his eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You came,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You swallowed, nodding. “I— I came.”

As he sat up on the bed, your eyes couldn't help but trace the lines of his muscles, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. He was a vision of pure temptation, and for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel nervous. You felt almost empowered.

You stepped out of your clothes and into the soft light of his hotel suite, the anticipation buzzing in the air. You tugged at the straps of your bathing suit, a sudden surge of confidence rushing through you as you revealed the simple yet daring swimwear underneath. His eyes flickered, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you, his gaze darkening with something deeper.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice low and appreciative. “You’re gorgeous. Look at you.”

Your heart raced at his words, the heat in your cheeks making you feel more alive than you ever. You gave him a shy smile, but he could see through it, he knew exactly how his words were making you feel. He moved toward you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you as his hands gently took you in his arms.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice steady and warm. You squealed in surprise as he effortlessly swept you off your feet, carrying you toward the hot tub on the balcony. The steam rising from the water mingled with the cool night air, creating a perfect atmosphere that made your pulse race even faster.

He set you down gently, the water soothing against your skin as he stepped in after you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something magnetic about him, something raw and unspoken. He was powerful, confident, and completely in control, yet there was a kindness in his gaze that made you feel like the only person in the world.

“So, tell me about yourself,” he asked, his voice smooth like velvet. His hand brushed against your back, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the warmth of his touch.

You took a breath, trying to steady yourself. “Well, I’m new to all of this. I grew up a little sheltered, honestly. But I’m in college now, and I wanted to break out of my shell—experience things for myself.”

Nicholas’ eyes softened with understanding, and he gave you a small nod. “I like that,” he said, his voice deepening. “You’ve got spirit.”

You could feel your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little nervously. “I guess I’m just tired of playing it safe.”

He stepped closer, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in just enough to make you dizzy. “What if I told you that you don’t have to play it safe anymore?” His hand found your cheek, cupping it gently as he held your gaze. “What if I told you there’s so much more to explore, if you’re willing?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you nodded, not trusting your voice for a moment. His words had unlocked something inside you, something that felt like a new beginning.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked, barely above a whisper. You could feel the tension between you two, the chemistry so thick you could almost taste it.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “A lot of things. Are you down for anything?”

You could feel your pulse spike, the weight of his question making your stomach flip with excitement. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but the conviction behind it was clear. You were ready. Ready to let go and experience everything that this night had to offer.

Nicholas didn’t need any more encouragement. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow at first. But then the kiss deepened, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded eagerly, your body moving against his as you got lost in the moment. His mouth was hungry, but gentle, as if savoring every second.

He broke away for a moment, looking down at you with something unreadable in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the heat of his gaze burning into you. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his fingers gently grazing your skin.

Nicholas was so close now, his body radiating warmth as his hands gently traced the contours of your body, making you feel things you’d never experienced before. His eyes never left yours, and you could feel the raw hunger in his gaze.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured, his lips barely brushing your ear. “Everything about you is perfect.” His fingers slowly moved up, grazing your side, sending a rush of heat straight to your pussy. He paused, then gently tugged at the strings of your bikini top, his eyes darkening as the fabric loosened. “God,” he breathed, looking at you in awe as the top fell away, exposing your tits to him.

You couldn’t stop the flutter in your chest, the way your pulse quickened at his words. You’d never felt more exposed, yet somehow, with him, it felt right. “So juicy,” he whispered, his voice husky as he lowered his head. His lips brushed the soft curve of your breast, and you gasped softly, unable to stop the soft moans that escaped your lips. “Your moans are hot,” he said.

Your body reacted to every touch, every brush of his hands. His touch felt like fire on your skin, leaving you trembling. The sensation of his hands on your body was overwhelming, and when his fingers gently cupped your breast, you couldn’t help but let out another moan, louder this time.

“God, your boobs are amazing,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as his lips found yours again in a hungry kiss. You kissed him back with the same fervor, your body pressing closer to his, feeling the heat of his chest against you. His body was solid, strong, and you could feel every inch of him as he held you close.

His hand moved slowly down your body, his fingers grazing the edge of your bikini bottom. He didn’t rush, he was savoring every moment, as if he knew this was all new to you. His hand lingered there, rubbing over pussy through the fabric, making you squirm slightly. The water splashed around you, but it only heightened the lust between you both.

You moaned softly as he rubbed your clothed pussy faster, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, and the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your body, his eyes full of desire. “You’re so fucking hot,” he said. There was no mistaking the way he felt—he wanted you, just as much as you wanted him.

With a gentle but insistent pull, he guided you closer, your bodies pressed together, the heat from the water mixing with the heat between you. His lips found yours once more, and as you kissed him back, you felt the world narrowing down to just the two of you, two bodies, two souls connecting in the steam and the quiet night.

What do you want, princess?” His voice was thick with desire, his lips lingering near your ear.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding as you thought about what you wanted. “I need to feel more. I need you to make me—make me cum.”

He chuckled softly, his breath warm on your neck. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to your bikini bottom. He was so careful, making sure you were comfortable with every movement. He kissed you again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent, as though he couldn’t wait to explore more of you.

The water splashed lightly around you as you both moved, the sound of your breaths mingling with the soft hum of the jets. His hand moved lower, brushing gently against you. He pulled your strings, easily ripping off your bikini then slipped a finger inside your wetness. You couldn’t help but gasp, the sensation of his fingers inside you unfamiliar yet thrilling.

“I’m a virgin by the way, I should’ve mentioned that earlier.”

“Shit, are you okay, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look at you. You nodded, your fingers curling into his chest as you pulled him closer.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you whispered, your body reacting instinctively to his finger curling inside you. He slipped another finger inside you, your nails digging into his huge biceps and he took the moment to rub your clit. Your moans and the sound of water splashing was all he could hear.

“Nick— I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice thick with approval. “Cum for me, baby.”

And for the first time in your life, you did. You squirted on his fingers, feeling the tension in your body release as you surrendered to the moment, to him.

“Fucking hell, you look so pretty when you cum, y’know that?” he murmured, brushing your hair from your face.

“Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like this so, no,” you laughed.

You suddenly realized you were butt ass naked in front of a man for the first time as his eyes raked over your body, drinking you in like you were a sculpture in a museum. Your hands went instinctively to your boobs, covering yourself as he stared too long.

“Oh baby, don’t hide yourself, you’re fucking beautiful,” he murmured, taking your hands and placing it on his bulge. You felt how hard he was, and how big.

Nicholas pulled down his swim trunks, and stepped out of the water in all his glory. The warm water cascaded over his body and all the way down to his cock that was standing at attention. The steam was a paid actor like himself—setting the mood and reflecting the heat between you. He took your hand and helped you out of the hot tub, both of you dripping with arousal and remnants of water.

As you stood there, his towel draped loosely around his waist, you couldn’t help but notice how impossibly broad and strong his frame was. The water glistened off his chest, highlighting his defined muscles, and you felt an involuntary shiver of anticipation.

He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against your skin as he took up a towel and dried you off. You swallowed hard, heart hammering in your chest as his hands lingered just a little longer than necessary, making it hard for you to breathe.

“Come on baby,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding as he led you back toward the bedroom, your pulse quickening with every step. The moment you entered, he closed the door behind you, the weight of his presence filling the room.

Before you could even process what was happening, he pushed you gently onto the bed, your body sinking into the softness of the mattress. The action was quick, but there was nothing hurried about the way he looked at you—there was a quiet intensity in his gaze, like he couldn’t wait to see where this would go.

He stood at the edge of the bed for a moment, watching you as you caught your breath, your body still damp from the hot tub. “You know,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, “you’re absolutely beautiful.” His words sent a wave of heat through you, making you flush as his gaze dropped to your body, his eyes darkening with desire.

You could barely find your voice. “Th-thank you,” you stammered, trying to steady yourself, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to focus. You weren’t sure if you were nervous or excited, maybe both.

Nicholas moved closer, leaning down until his face was just inches from your glistening pussy. “Can I taste you?” he asked softly, his lips hovering over you.

You nodded, barely able to speak, but your lips parted as he moved in. His mouth moved against your pussy slow at first, tentative almost, as if testing the waters. But as he began licking faster, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded by pressing your pussy against him, the heat of his mouth making you dizzy with desire.

“You’re taste so fucking good,” he murmured against your clit, his voice a husky growl. You moaned softly in response, your body already reacting to his tongue all over you. It was the first time anyone had made you feel like this, so exposed and yet so wanted.

Your breath caught in your throat as you gathered the courage to speak. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you whispered.

He smiled, that wicked grin curling at the edges of his lips at the nickname you appointed to him. “Wow, we’ll address that after you cum on my tongue, so go ahead,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.

As if your body was waiting for the go ahead, you arched from the bed, your hands immediately gripping his hair as you ground your pussy all over his mouth. You moaned as you squirted and he took the opportunity to slurp every drop of what your pussy had to over.

“Mm— that’s my good girl, you taste like fucking Heaven, sweetheart,” he praised in between his licks.

He moved up to you, his lips glistening with your arousal and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him and relishing in your savory taste. As you did, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you, his pre cum leaking and smearing on you. It felt so good, you wanted to suck his dick but you needed him to fuck you even more.

“So, daddy kink hmm? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any hotter,” Nicholas said, that gorgeous smirk on his face.

You buried your face in his neck, grinding your pussy against his shaft as you let out small whimpers in his ear. You needed that dick, bad.

“You’re so needy sweetheart, what is it, you want my cock?”

You let out a soft ‘mhmm’ still grinding against him as your body shuddered, if you weren’t careful, you knew you’d cum from just doing that.

“Words baby, I need words, do you want daddy to take your virginity?” he asked. When he saw you, he knew he wanted you for a fun night and more, he would’ve never thought a beautiful woman like you was still a virgin and would be up for a night with him. Let’s be real, if a guy like him asked you to come to his room after hours, he was looking to fuck and you, a virgin, knowingly came to his room. Though, he needed to know you were on board.

“Yes, please, I want you to take my virginity, please fuck me,” you whimpered.

He reached to pull out the nightstand drawer and you knew immediately what he was reaching for.

“N-no condom,” you muttered, grabbing his hand, “I’d like to feel all of you for my first time, i-if that’s okay.”

“‘Course baby, anything for you,” he smiled.

He moved back on top of you, stroking his length and spreading the pre cum all over. Looking at how big he was, you wondered how he would fit.

“You sure you want to do this sweetheart? You can still back out if you want to, the decision is all yours,” he said, concern etched on his face.

“I’m sure Nicholas,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down.

His leaking tip rubbed against your folds, the sound of your wetness filling the hotel room.

“I’m gonna go slow baby but it’s still going to be a bit uncomfortable at first, if it’s gets too painful, all you have to say is stop, yeah?”

You nodded your head and smiled, appreciative of his words, you wouldn’t want to be losing your virginity in any other scenario with anyone else but him.

Slowly, he began easing his cock into you, muttering praises and placing kisses all over your face. Your face contorted from the pain and pleasure and you tried your best to relax so he could move further.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay, the worst part’s gonna be over soon,” he uttered, before placing a kiss on your lips.

He slowly pushed into you more, peppering kisses and cooing at you. You’d never felt to full, your fingers when you touched yourself didn’t compare to how big he was inside you. Your jaw fell agape as the slight pain finally subsided and you were overcome with pleasure.

“Daddy,” you moaned as he began to move at a steady pace, his cocky repeatedly brushing against your sweet spot.

“There she is, there’s daddy’s girl,” he cooed, placing another kiss on your lips.

His words made your pussy clench and a flutter grew in your heart, this man was doing things to you no man had ever done.

“Faster,” you urged, grinding against him.

He granted your wish, pounding into you faster and making your body jolt upwards. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping filled the room and soon, you felt your approaching orgasm.

“So fucking tight, just clenching around me like that, I know you wanna cum, cum on daddy’s cock baby.”

Your nails dug into his back leaving a trail of fire and he pounded into you just the way you liked it.

“Oh fuck— daddy,” you cried, grabbing him and pulling him flush against you. You shuddered as your orgasm ripped through you, your juices soaking the bed as he pulled out.

As he looked down, there was a bit of blood between your legs and on his cock. He quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned you up then himself, placing a kiss on your thigh.

You glimpsed the blood stained towel and buried your face in your hands.

“I— I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—”

He cut you off with a passionate kiss, cupping your cheeks.

“You don’t need to apologize, it’s natural and normal sweetheart.”

You gave him a small smile and he flipped you on top of him swiftly, making you squeal.

“I know it’s your first time but I need you to ride me baby, need to see those fucking tits bounce and have you on top of me.”

“Anything for you,” you smirked, though nervous.

You lined his awaiting cock with your dripping pussy, rubbing it against you and making it drip down his shaft.

“Fucking hell, you’re amazing,” he moaned, bucking his hips.

Slowly, you sank down onto him, both moaning in unison as your warmth and wetness engulfed each other. It was like fireworks exploded, this was everything you had dreamed of. It was a burning stretch but the pain soon turned into pleasure.

You bounced on his cock and he moved his hips to meet your thrusts.

“Oh God— daddy,” you moaned, feeling him hit a whole new spot inside you, you thought was impossible.

“Yeah? You like that? You like riding daddy’s cock? Fucking say it,” he panted.

“I— I love riding daddy’s cock, fuck me harder,” you moaned.

“Good fucking girl.”

He thrusted up into you, grabbing your boobs and playing with your nipples as he did. Your moans were like music to his ears and soon, he felt the familiar feeling of your pussy fluttering and clenching around him like you didn’t want to let him go.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight baby, cum for daddy, soak daddy’s cock.”

Falling on top of him, your body convulsed and your orgasm overtook you, soaking his length and the sheets below you once more. You knew the housekeepers would complain, they always did when the sheets were covered in bodily fluid, hell, you did too, oh the irony.

“Stay just like that baby, daddy’s gonna pump you full of cum,” he murmured.

Nicholas pinned your hands behind your back, the action unusual but making your head swoon.

“Oh, you like that don’t you?” he asked, fucking up into you hard.

“I love it daddy, faster,” you begged.

“As you wish.” His cock began slamming into you faster and soon, you felt the unmistakable feeling of something warm, filling you to the brim.

“That feels so good,” you moaned, grinding against him.

“I know baby, take daddy’s cum, take it in that tight fucking pussy.”

He slowly thrusted into you before he pulled out, the feeling leaving you empty yet fulfilled.

You laid there, tangled in each other, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chests.

“Did you enjoy yourself beautiful?,” he asked, as you leaned up to look at him.

“More than I could ever imagine.”

He smiled and gave you a kiss on the lips before making his way to the bathroom and coming back with a warm cloth. He cleaned you up, littering kisses as he did.

“You’re so beautiful, I’m so lucky,” he muttered. His words made your heart flutter, would this be a regular occurrence?

“I think I’m lucky too,” you laughed, “a famous actor just took my virginity.”

“And I’d like to take it all over again in the morning, will you stay the night?” he inquired, tossing the cloth on the couch.

“I don’t think I can, I already broke a rule sleeping with a guest but literally sleeping over in a guest’s room? I’d get fired and it’s my first job I—“

He cut you off with a finger over your lips. “Shh, forget who I am? I’ll pull some strings, and even if you do get fired, I’ll easily take care of you.”

You buried your face in his firm chest and he fell onto the bed beside you. The romantic night went on with you tangled in each other’s arms and Nicholas littering kisses all over your face. Who knew being a housekeeper would score you such a big tip.

[pucksandpower]

A Permanent Claim

Day 24 → Piercing 💋 Toto Wolff

Warnings: 18+ content, body modification, genital piercing

Kinktober Masterlist

The paddock is buzzing, as it always is before a race. The hum of anticipation clings to the air, and for the first time in his career, Toto feels … distracted.

You stand next to him, your hands clasped in front of you, eyes wide, taking everything in. It’s your first race. The team is used to Toto’s steely focus, his towering figure commanding the space around him, but today something’s different. There’s an energy swirling around the two of you that no one can quite place. Whispers trail in your wake like shadows, and not one of the mechanics dares ask.

Toto rests a hand on your lower back, a possessive yet gentle gesture, guiding you through the crowd. His touch is firm, confident. He doesn’t look at you, but you know he’s watching, aware of every move you make, every breath you take.

“How are you holding up?” He asks, his voice low, cutting through the noise around you.

You glance up at him, a small, nervous smile tugging at your lips. “It’s a lot. I’m trying to take it all in.”

He nods, his gaze softening for just a fraction of a second. “You’ll get used to it.”

You will, you think. You have to. Because standing here, next to him, you realize how much of his world you’ve yet to understand. The power. The pressure. The eyes constantly watching. It’s intoxicating and suffocating all at once.

Toto’s phone buzzes, and his focus shifts. You can tell it’s important — everything he does is important — but he hasn’t left your side since you arrived, and part of you wonders if he’s more concerned about you than the race.

"You don’t have to stay with me,” you say, trying to sound light. “I know you have work to do.”

He turns his head slightly, his eyes narrowing just a touch. “I’m exactly where I need to be.”

There’s a finality to his words that leaves no room for argument. You bite your lip, nodding, trying to suppress the heat rising in your cheeks. Toto doesn’t often make grand declarations, but when he speaks like that, when his tone shifts into something so sure, you feel anchored.

Across the paddock, you catch sight of a familiar face — Lewis Hamilton. He’s leaning against one of the barriers, casual, yet you can tell he’s been watching the two of you. You don’t know him well, but you’ve heard the stories, seen the headlines. A part of you wants to wave, to acknowledge him, but something holds you back.

Toto doesn’t miss the way Lewis’ eyes drift toward you. He never misses anything.

Lewis pushes off the barrier, walking over with that easy confidence of his. “Hey, Toto,” he greets, his voice smooth, eyes flicking to you for just a second before locking back on your husband.

Toto’s grip on your waist tightens imperceptibly, but his expression remains neutral. “Lewis.”

Lewis’ smile widens, clearly picking up on the tension, but choosing to play into it. “I don’t think we’ve met,” he says, turning his full attention to you now. “I’m Lewis.”

You blink, taken aback by his forwardness, but manage a polite smile. “I know who you are.”

“And you are?”

You open your mouth, but Toto cuts in before you can respond. “My wife.”

The words land heavily, like a brick shattering the easy rhythm of the conversation. There’s a pause — a beat of silence — as Lewis’ eyes flicker to Toto, surprise briefly flashing across his face.

“Wife?” Lewis repeats, clearly not expecting that.

Toto’s hand remains steady on your back, but his fingers press a little harder into your skin. You can practically feel the intensity radiating from him, even though his face remains composed, unreadable.

“Yes,” you say, softly but firmly. You tilt your hand slightly, the massive engagement ring and wedding band catching the sunlight, gleaming like a warning. "We’ve been married for a while."

Lewis glances at your hand, and something unreadable passes over his expression. “Huh,” he mutters, leaning back slightly. "Didn’t know that."

The silence stretches, and you shift uncomfortably, feeling the weight of both their gazes. You wish the ground would swallow you up, wish that the paddock wasn’t so exposed, that every curious eye wasn’t trained on the three of you like vultures circling a fresh kill.

Lewis, sensing the tension, chuckles lightly, trying to diffuse the situation. “Well, congratulations. You’re a lucky man, Toto.”

Toto’s expression doesn’t change, but you can see the flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “I’m aware.”

It’s a simple statement, but the underlying message is clear: back off.

Lewis doesn’t seem fazed, though. He flashes you a smile, one that’s a little too charming, a little too familiar. “You ever need a tour guide around here, I’m your guy. Could show you all the good spots — where the real action is.”

You laugh awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. “I think I’ll be busy with-”

“Her schedule’s full,” Toto interjects smoothly, cutting you off. His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it now, a subtle shift in tone that you recognize all too well. The kind of tone that means he’s done with pleasantries.

Lewis raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the push-and-pull. “Right. Well, if you ever change your mind-”

“She won’t,” Toto says, this time more forcefully.

Lewis holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just being friendly.”

“Friendliness isn’t necessary,” Toto replies, his voice low, sharp. “You have a race to focus on.”

There’s a pause as Lewis considers his options, then he lets out a low chuckle. “Fair enough. I’ll see you both around.” He winks at you, the gesture making your stomach churn uncomfortably. With one last glance at Toto, he turns and walks away, his strut a little too exaggerated.

You exhale, not realizing you’d been holding your breath.

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

Toto’s gaze softens as he turns to you, his thumb brushing lightly against your side. “Like what?”

“Being … this visible.” You shrug, gesturing vaguely toward the paddock. “I didn’t realize how intense it would be.”

He studies you for a moment, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes — concern, maybe, or guilt. It’s hard to tell with him sometimes. “We don’t have to come here again.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, it’s fine. I just need to get used to it, that’s all.”

He doesn’t argue, but the way he’s looking at you tells you he’s not convinced. His hand slides from your waist to the small of your back again, grounding you, claiming you.

As you both turn back to the team garage, you can still feel the eyes on you, the whispers trailing in the air like smoke. You try not to think about Lewis, about the way his words felt like needles pricking your skin, or how the weight of your rings didn’t seem enough to stop him.

But Toto knows. He always knows.

Back inside the garage, the chaos of the upcoming race surrounds you. Mechanics are moving fast, engineers checking data, voices crackling over the radio. But you can feel Toto’s focus on you, his mind elsewhere even as he addresses the team. His hand tightens around his headset, the tension in his body mounting, until-

Snap.

The plastic cracks under the force of his grip, and the entire room goes silent. Heads turn, but no one dares say a word. Toto stares down at the broken headset in his hand, his jaw clenched tight.

You reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s fine.”

He doesn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the shattered pieces in his hand. Then, slowly, he exhales, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

“I’ll get a new one,” he mutters, his voice tight, controlled.

But you know it’s not about the headset. It never is.

“Maybe,” you whisper, “next time, we’ll come without the drama.”

His eyes meet yours, and for the first time today, the tension breaks. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his hand resting firmly on your back.

“Next time,” he says softly, “I’ll make sure they know who you belong to.”

***

The drive is unusually quiet.

Toto’s hands grip the wheel with the same intensity you’ve come to recognize over the years, but his face gives nothing away. It’s the middle of the week, and you’re expecting something mundane — lunch, a meeting maybe — but the route he’s taking is unfamiliar. You glance out the window, trying to figure out where exactly he’s headed, but the streets become less and less familiar.

“Where are we going?” You finally ask, your voice light but curious.

Toto doesn’t respond right away. His jaw is set, eyes locked on the road ahead. Finally, after a long pause, he says, “Somewhere we should’ve gone a long time ago.”

That doesn’t clear up anything. You furrow your brow, glancing at him for some kind of clarification, but his expression remains unreadable. His focus is too sharp, too deliberate.

“Toto, seriously,” you say, sitting up straighter in your seat. “Where are we going?”

He exhales through his nose, a deep, controlled breath. “You’ll see in a few minutes.”

You open your mouth to ask again, but something in his tone tells you to wait. So you sit back, your fingers absentmindedly playing with your wedding ring, spinning it around your finger the way you do when you’re nervous.

After a few more turns, Toto pulls into a small parking lot. You look around, scanning the nondescript building in front of you. A sign hangs above the entrance:

Gilded Needle.

Your heart skips a beat. You turn to Toto, eyes wide. “What — why are we here?”

Toto unbuckles his seatbelt, turning to face you. His expression is calm, but there’s a glint in his eyes that you’ve seen only in moments when he’s dead serious. “Because,” he says, his voice low, steady, “the rings aren’t enough.”

You blink, your mind racing to catch up. “What do you mean, the rings aren’t enough?”

He reaches out, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing over the engagement ring, then the wedding band. “These,” he says, his voice tight with restrained frustration, “aren’t enough to keep people like Lewis from flirting with you.”

A hot flush creeps up your neck. You hadn’t realized how much Lewis’s flirtation had gotten under Toto’s skin. “Toto, it’s not like-”

“Not like what?” He interrupts, his grip tightening just slightly around your hand. “Not like you noticed? Not like it bothered you?” He shakes his head, exhaling sharply. “It’s not about what you did or didn’t do. It’s about making sure everyone knows exactly who you belong to.”

Your heart stumbles over itself at the word belong. You’re not sure if you should be offended or flattered. Maybe a little of both.

You look at the building again, then back at him. “So … a piercing?”

He nods, his expression unreadable. “Something more permanent.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Permanent. The weight of the word settles in your chest, both thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

“But … where?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Your mind races, thinking of earlobes or maybe a discreet stud somewhere, but when Toto speaks again, your world tilts.

“VCH,” he says, as casually as if he were discussing dinner plans.

You blink. “Wait, what?”

Toto’s eyes darken, and the intensity in his gaze sends a rush of heat straight through you. “The vertical clitoral hood. It’s more permanent than any ring. And no one else will ever see it. But you’ll know. And I’ll know.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Toto, that’s … that’s extreme.”

He reaches for you, cupping your face in his large, calloused hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I don’t do things halfway, and neither do you. This is just another way to show what’s already true.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and charged. You feel a mixture of disbelief, anxiety, and … something else. Something deep, primal, that you can’t quite name. Your pulse quickens.

“Toto, I … I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, his voice softer now. “Just trust me.”

And somehow, despite everything, you do. You always have.

He opens the car door, stepping out, and before you can fully process what’s happening, he’s at your side, opening your door. His hand is extended toward you, palm up, waiting. You hesitate for only a second before placing your hand in his, letting him pull you to your feet.

The piercing parlor looks unassuming from the outside, but the moment you step in, the sterile scent of disinfectant and steel greets you. A woman with bright purple hair stands behind the counter, her heavily tattooed arms crossed over her chest.

“Toto,” she greets with a knowing smile, her eyes flicking to you briefly before returning to him. “You called ahead.”

He nods. “Is everything ready?”

She gestures toward a door in the back. “All set up. Just head back, and I’ll be in shortly.”

Toto keeps his hand on your lower back as he guides you through the door. The room is small but clean, with a leather chair in the center, a tray of gleaming metal instruments set off to the side. Your stomach flips, anxiety mixing with the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You sit down, your mind buzzing with a thousand thoughts. “Are we really doing this?” You ask, your voice barely steady.

Toto kneels in front of you, his large hands resting on your knees. His gaze meets yours, and there’s a tenderness there that cuts through the tension. “Yes. But only if you’re sure.”

You swallow hard. “It’s … a lot.”

He nods, his thumb tracing circles on your leg. “It is. But I want you to feel … secure. Safe. This is a symbol. For both of us.”

You take a deep breath, the weight of his words settling over you. A symbol. It’s more than just the act — it’s the message behind it. The permanence. The trust.

The door opens, and the woman from the front steps in, pulling on a pair of gloves. “Alright, let’s get started,” she says, her tone professional but warm. She pulls a stool over, sitting in front of you. “So, you’re getting a vertical clitoral hood piercing today. I’m going to explain each step of the process so you know exactly what’s happening, okay?”

You nod, your heart hammering in your chest.

“First, I’m going to clean the area,” she says, grabbing a disinfectant wipe from the tray. “It’s important to make sure everything’s sterile to avoid infection.”

You flinch slightly as the cold wipe touches your skin, but the sensation is brief. Your hands grip the sides of the chair, trying to stay calm. Toto’s presence next to you is grounding, his hand resting reassuringly on your shoulder.

“Next, I’ll mark the spot where the piercing will go,” the piercer continues, grabbing a small marker. “I’ll have you check the placement before we move forward.”

She leans in, making a precise mark on your skin. You feel her focus, her hands steady and sure. You can’t help but feel exposed, vulnerable, but Toto’s steady grip on your shoulder is an anchor.

“Take a look,” the piercer says, handing you a small mirror.

You glance down, your heart racing as you inspect the mark. It seems so small, so insignificant, but the weight of what it represents is enormous.

“Is the placement okay?” she asks, her voice calm and patient.

You swallow, nodding. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

“Great,” she says, setting the mirror aside. “Now, I’m going to use a receiving tube to protect the tissue and guide the needle. It’ll be a quick, sharp pinch, and then it’s over.”

Your grip tightens on the sides of the chair as you brace yourself. Toto leans closer, his lips brushing the top of your head. “You’re doing great,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing.

The piercer positions the receiving tube, her movements practiced and efficient. “Alright, I’m going to count down from three. Take a deep breath.”

You close your eyes, inhaling deeply, feeling the cool air fill your lungs.

“Three … two … one.”

The sharp sting of the needle pierces through your skin, and for a moment, the pain is all-consuming, bright and searing. You gasp, your body tensing, but then — just as quickly — it’s over.

The piercer works quickly, threading the jewelry through the fresh hole. “And now the jewelry is in place,” she says, her voice almost casual, as if she’s done this a thousand times. “Just going to clean it up now.”

Your body relaxes slowly, the pain fading into a dull throb. Toto’s hand moves from your shoulder to your cheek, tilting your face up so you’re looking at him.

“You did it,” he says, his voice filled with quiet pride.

You manage a shaky smile, still feeling a little lightheaded. “That was … intense.”

The piercer finishes cleaning the area and steps back, giving you some space. “You’ll need to follow the aftercare instructions closely,” she says, handing you a small pamphlet. “Keep it clean, avoid tight clothing, and no … strenuous activities for a while.”

Toto chuckles softly beside you, clearly picking up on the implication. You shoot him a look, but the amusement in his eyes is impossible to ignore.

“Thank you,” you murmur to the piercer, your voice still a little shaky.

She nods, standing and removing her gloves. “You’re all set. Take your time, and come back if you have any questions or concerns.”

As the door clicks shut behind her, the room falls into a heavy silence. You lean back in the chair, feeling both exhausted and exhilarated. The reality of what just happened is starting to sink in, and you’re not sure how to process it all.

Toto stands, offering you his hand again. “Ready to go?”

You take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Your legs feel wobbly, but Toto’s steady presence keeps you grounded. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you walk toward the door.

“How do you feel?” He asks, his voice soft.

You think for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Different. But … good.”

He presses a kiss to your temple. “Good. That’s exactly what I wanted.”

And as you step out into the cool air of the parking lot, you realize that this — like everything else with Toto — was never just about the piercing. It was about trust. About belonging. About knowing, in ways words could never fully capture, that you’re his, and he’s yours.

***

The night is quiet, a blanket of stillness settling over the room as you and Toto lie intertwined under the covers. His warmth surrounds you, his chest a steady rise and fall beneath your cheek. The faint light from the bedside lamp casts a soft glow across the room, giving everything an intimate, golden hue.

You’re nestled against him, your legs tangled with his, the weight of his arm draped across your waist. His hand moves slowly, lazily tracing the curve of your hip as you drift in and out of a blissful, relaxed haze. It’s been a few weeks since your piercing, and while the intensity of the moment had faded, the memory of it still lingers. A quiet reminder of just how deeply tethered you both are.

Toto’s fingers are gentle as they begin to travel lower, dipping just under the waistband of your underwear. You shift slightly, your breath hitching in anticipation, but you don’t say anything. The sensation of his touch is grounding, like he’s always known exactly how to unravel you, piece by piece.

His voice is low when he finally speaks. “It’s healed well, hasn’t it?”

You nod, biting your lip, feeling a flutter of nerves and excitement. “Yeah. It’s been good.”

His fingers brush against the piercing, and you inhale sharply. Even after all this time, the touch there is still new, still electric. He moves with a kind of reverence, testing the waters, gauging your reaction as he gently taps the small barbell. The sensation shoots through you, sharp and exhilarating, and you let out a soft gasp.

“I’ve been waiting,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, “for the right moment to give you something.”

You blink, turning your head slightly to look at him. “Something?”

He doesn’t respond right away, just keeps his fingers playing delicately with the jewelry, the pressure of his touch making you squirm. A low chuckle rumbles in his chest as he watches you react, his eyes dark and full of something intense.

“Yes,” he says, finally shifting his weight to reach over to the nightstand. His arm moves smoothly, the drawer sliding open with a quiet click. Your curiosity piques, but you’re too caught up in the feeling of his fingers still teasing you to fully focus on what he’s doing.

When he pulls his hand back, there’s a small, sleek jewelry box in his grasp. He holds it in front of you, his expression soft but deliberate. “I had this made for you.”

Your pulse quickens. The box is elegant, understated, but you can tell immediately that whatever’s inside isn’t ordinary. Toto’s taste has always been impeccable, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you now that tells you this is special.

“Open it,” he whispers, his voice thick with anticipation.

You sit up slightly, propping yourself on one elbow as you take the box from his hand. The weight of it feels significant, and your fingers tremble just a little as you lift the lid. Inside, nestled against a bed of black velvet, is a hoop — white gold, gleaming in the soft light, adorned with tiny garnets and diamonds that catch the light in the most delicate way.

Your breath catches in your throat. The garnets, Toto’s birthstone, are a deep, rich red, their contrast against the diamonds creating something timeless, yet intimate. The design is intricate but subtle, something that only you and he will ever truly see.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper, unable to take your eyes off it.

Toto’s hand is on your back now, a comforting weight that steadies you. “I wanted something that felt more … permanent,” he says, echoing the words from weeks ago. “Something that’s not just for show. It’s for you. And for me.”

You nod, your heart swelling with emotion as you gaze at the jewelry. It’s more than just an accessory — it’s a symbol, another layer of the bond that ties you both together.

He shifts again, gently taking the box from your hands and setting it aside. “Let me put it in for you.”

You bite your lip, feeling a rush of nerves again. The piercing has healed, but the thought of him changing it — of him being so hands-on in such an intimate way — sends a thrill through you. You nod, laying back down, your head resting on his chest as he moves over you.

His hands are steady, and there’s something soothing about the way he handles the small barbell currently in place. He unscrews it with careful precision, his fingers working deftly even though the act itself feels deeply intimate. You hold your breath as he removes the simple piercing, your body humming with anticipation.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he positions the new hoop. “This might feel a little strange,” he murmurs, his voice low and calm, “but I’ll be gentle.”

You nod, barely able to form words, and then you feel it — the cool metal sliding through the piercing, the slight pinch as it passes through your skin. It’s quick, and before you can fully process it, the new jewelry is in place. Toto fastens it carefully, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary as if he’s savoring the closeness, the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“How does that feel?” He asks, his voice a soft rumble.

You exhale, your body relaxing into his touch. “It’s … perfect.”

He smiles, clearly satisfied, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not done yet. His hand trails lower, brushing against the new hoop, and your body jolts in response, hyper-aware of the sensitivity there. You squirm, but he holds you in place, his touch light but firm.

“I’m not quite finished,” he says, and you can hear the teasing edge in his voice.

Before you can ask what he means, he’s reaching into the nightstand again. This time, when he pulls something out, it’s not a box, but a delicate chain — white gold, matching the hoop. It gleams in the soft light, the intricate links catching the glow from the bedside lamp.

Your eyes widen as you realize what it’s for. “Toto …”

He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he attaches one end of the chain to the hoop. The sensation of the cold metal brushing against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, and you instinctively shift under his touch.

“I had this made, too,” he says, his voice smooth and calm as he works. “It’s detachable. Only for when I want it.”

You swallow hard, your heart racing as he finishes securing the chain. The weight of it is light but noticeable, and the idea of him having this kind of control over you, of being able to tug on it whenever he wants, makes your breath come faster.

Toto leans back, his hand still resting on your thigh as he looks down at his work, clearly pleased. “There,” he murmurs, his voice deep with satisfaction. “Now it’s perfect.”

You can feel the chain moving with every breath you take, a constant reminder of his presence, his claim. Your body is already hypersensitive, the tension building in your core as his fingers brush lightly over the chain, testing its weight.

Then, without warning, he gives a gentle tug.

The sensation is immediate, a sharp jolt of pleasure that courses through you, leaving you breathless. Your hands grip the sheets, your body arching slightly as you try to process the intensity of it.

“Toto,” you gasp, but he’s not done.

He tugs again, harder this time, and the sensation is so intense that your body trembles beneath him. Your breath comes in short, desperate gasps, your mind spinning as he continues to play with the chain, each pull sending a wave of pleasure crashing through you.

“Toto, please …” you gasp, your body tense, every nerve ending on fire.

He chuckles, low and dangerous. “Please what?”

You can barely think, let alone form coherent words. All you know is the heat, the pressure, the overwhelming sensation that’s building inside you, threatening to consume you.

“Please … don’t stop,” you manage to choke out, your voice trembling.

He growls softly, his hand moving to your hip, holding you steady as he tugs the chain again, this time with more force. The overstimulation is almost too much, your body trembling as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of control.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “So perfect. All mine.”

You can’t respond, your breath coming in shallow pants as the sensations build, one after the other, until they’re too much to bear. Your body arches off the bed, your hands gripping the sheets so tightly your knuckles turn white.

“Toto, I-”

He tugs again, harder, and the wave of pleasure that crashes through you is too intense, too overwhelming. You cry out, your body going limp, boneless beneath him as the overstimulation sends you spiraling into a haze of sensation.

Toto watches you, his expression a mix of satisfaction and adoration as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your trembling body. “There’s my good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft now, soothing. “You did so well.”

You can’t even respond, your body too spent, too overwhelmed to do anything but lie there, completely at his mercy. But as you slowly come back to yourself, the weight of the chain still resting against your skin, you can’t help but feel a deep sense of belonging. Of being his, in every possible way.

Toto shifts beside you, his hand stroking your hair as he pulls you close. His voice is a low, soothing rumble as he whispers, “You’re mine.”

***

Toto’s hand rests possessively on the small of your back as you both step into the dimly lit penthouse suite. The heavy wooden door clicks shut behind him with a quiet finality, the sound echoing in the silence of the room. His grip tightens ever so slightly, a silent reminder of the tension that’s been simmering beneath the surface all evening.

The dinner had been a formality, an obligation for one of the team’s sponsors. You sat beside Toto, the perfect wife, engaging in polite conversation, flashing smiles at the right moments. But the man at the other end of the table — the one with the wandering eyes and smooth comments — had tested Toto’s patience in ways no one else ever dared.

Toto’s jaw had been clenched the entire night, his polite exterior betrayed only by the tightening grip of his hand around his water glass, the flicker of something darker in his eyes whenever the man’s gaze lingered too long on you. You felt it, too — the weight of Toto’s stare, the quiet tension in his posture, the way his fingers would brush your thigh under the table in a subtle, grounding gesture.

Now, back in the privacy of your suite, the air between you is charged, thick with the unspoken. You can feel the intensity radiating off of him, the silent fury he’s held in check for hours.

Toto doesn’t say a word as he leads you further into the room, his hand firm but deliberate on your back. He stops in the center, the large bed looming just behind you. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and unreadable, and you can see the storm brewing in them. The weight of his gaze alone is enough to make your knees feel weak.

“You know why we’re here,” Toto finally says, his voice low, steady, but carrying an unmistakable edge. It’s not a question. It’s a statement, a reminder of the man he is — and the man you belong to.

You swallow, your heart beating faster in your chest. You nod, your voice caught in your throat as you hold his gaze. The tension is palpable, and there’s a part of you that already knows where this is going, already craves it.

“I didn’t do anything,” you say, but your voice is soft, almost tentative. You’re not pleading, not really. You know that this is about something deeper, something that goes beyond the surface of what happened at the dinner.

Toto’s eyes narrow slightly, and he tilts his head, studying you for a moment. “No, you didn’t,” he agrees, but there’s a pause, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. “But you let him think he had a chance.”

Your breath catches in your throat at the accusation, but you know better than to argue. There’s a gleam in his eyes now, something dark and possessive that makes your pulse race. It’s not anger — not really — but something more primal. A need to assert his claim, to remind you, in no uncertain terms, who you belong to.

Without another word, Toto moves to the nightstand, his movements controlled, deliberate. You watch him, your heart pounding in your chest, as he opens the drawer and pulls out the familiar length of the chain. The sight of it — white gold, gleaming in the soft light — sends a shiver down your spine.

He holds it up for a moment, letting it dangle between his fingers, the weight of the chain swaying gently in the air. His eyes flick back to you, dark and intent.

“On the bed,” he says simply, his voice firm, leaving no room for hesitation.

You move without question, the familiar pull of his command guiding you. Your body reacts instinctively, your legs carrying you to the edge of the bed. You lower yourself onto it, the cool fabric of the sheets brushing against your skin as you lie back, your heart hammering in your chest.

Toto’s gaze never leaves you as he steps closer, the chain still clutched in his hand. He moves with the quiet authority that always sends a thrill through you, his presence filling the room as he towers over you. His eyes rake over your body, lingering on the curve of your waist, the way your chest rises and falls with each breath.

“You’re mine,” he says softly, but there’s no mistaking the intensity in his voice. “And I need you to remember that.”

You nod, your breath catching in your throat as his words sink in, reverberating through you. You already know it — know it in the deepest parts of you — but there’s something about the way he says it now, the way the chain gleams in his hand, that makes you feel it all over again.

Toto kneels beside the bed, his hand sliding over your thigh as he reaches for the delicate hoop piercing. His touch is gentle, but you can feel the heat in it, the barely restrained control as he attaches the chain. The sensation of the cool metal against your skin sends a jolt of awareness through you, your body already responding to him, to the unspoken promise in his touch.

Once the chain is secure, Toto stands again, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. He gives the chain a light tug, testing it, and the sensation sends a thrill through you — a reminder of the control he has, of the power dynamic that exists between you.

“Crawl to me,” he commands, his voice low, steady.

The words hang in the air for a moment, and then you move, the weight of the chain pulling against you as you shift to your hands and knees. The sensation of crawling, of being pulled by the delicate chain, sends a rush of heat through you, every nerve in your body attuned to him.

You move slowly, deliberately, each motion guided by the subtle pull of the chain as you make your way toward him. The distance between you feels both too far and too close, the tension between you growing with each inch you close. Toto’s eyes never leave you, watching your every movement with a dark intensity that makes your heart race.

When you finally reach him, you stop, kneeling at his feet, the chain taut between you. Your breathing is shallow, your body thrumming with anticipation as you wait for his next move.

Toto’s eyes darken, and for a moment, he says nothing, simply looking down at you with a kind of possessive hunger that makes your skin tingle. Then, slowly, he reaches down and unzips his pants, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Your breath hitches, your eyes widening as the reality of the moment sinks in. The tension, the anticipation, the slow, deliberate way he’s orchestrating this — it’s overwhelming, intoxicating.

Toto steps closer, the chain still taut between you as he looks down at you with that same dark, commanding intensity. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to. The weight of his gaze, the subtle pull of the chain, the way his body towers over you — it all speaks volumes.

Your eyes flick up to his, and in that moment, you know exactly what he wants, exactly what he’s asking of you without saying a word. And you give in, the same way you always do — willingly, eagerly, knowing that this, this moment, is a reminder of everything that you are to him, and everything he is to you.

Your hands move slowly, trembling slightly, as you reach for him, your fingers brushing against the waistband of his pants. You hesitate for a brief second, but you know this is what he wants. No, it’s more than that — it’s what he needs. The reminder of control, of dominance, of the fact that you are his in every possible way.

His hand tightens around the chain, a light but unmistakable tug, guiding you closer, urging you forward. Your heart pounds in your chest, your body already humming with the anticipation of what’s to come. You undo his belt with slow, deliberate movements, your breath shallow as you pull the pants down, freeing him from the confines of the tailored fabric. The silence between you crackles with tension, the only sound the subtle clink of metal and your own uneven breathing.

Toto doesn’t say anything, but his hand remains firm on the chain, pulling gently, reminding you of the invisible line tethering you to him. His presence is overwhelming, his control absolute, and you find yourself moving without question, guided entirely by the silent commands in his eyes.

You lean forward, your lips brushing against the soft skin at the base of him, and the low groan that escapes his throat is enough to send a shiver through you. You know that sound well — it’s the sound of his approval, the sound of him letting go of the tightly held control that always simmers beneath the surface. You take him into your mouth slowly, carefully, your tongue swirling as you adjust to the weight of him, the taste of him.

Toto’s breath hitches, his hand gripping the chain a little tighter, and you know you’re doing exactly what he wants. He’s still watching you, his dark eyes never leaving your face as you take him deeper, your hands resting lightly on his thighs for balance. The connection between you — the chain, the tension in the air, the way he’s completely focused on you — is intoxicating, overwhelming in the best possible way.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, barely above a whisper, but it sends a thrill through you nonetheless. His fingers tug on the chain lightly, almost as if testing you, reminding you of the power dynamic, the control he holds so effortlessly.

You hum in response, the vibrations traveling through him, and his low groan tells you all you need to know. You work him slowly, methodically, your movements deliberate as you take him deeper, inch by inch. Every sound he makes, every slight tug on the chain, spurs you on, and you can feel the heat building between you, the tension coiling tighter with every passing second.

But Toto isn’t just letting you take control. His grip on the chain tightens again, and this time, when he tugs, it’s firmer, more insistent. The movement sends a jolt through your body, forcing you to take him deeper than before, pushing you to your limit.

You gasp around him, your throat constricting slightly as he presses further, the sensation intense, but not unbearable. He’s guiding you, controlling you, and you can feel the way he’s holding back, teetering on the edge of his own restraint.

“You know exactly what I need,” Toto murmurs, his voice thick with desire, and the words send a fresh wave of heat through you. “Show me.”

You obey without hesitation, your hands tightening on his thighs as you take him deeper again, your body trembling with the effort to keep up with his rhythm. His hand never leaves the chain, the slight tension a constant reminder of his control, his dominance, the fact that you belong to him entirely in this moment.

As you work him with slow, practiced movements, you can feel him beginning to lose control, his breath coming faster, his hips shifting ever so slightly. He’s close, and you know it. You can feel it in the way his grip on the chain tightens, in the low growls that escape his throat, in the way his body tenses beneath your touch.

And then, he gives the chain one more, hard tug.

The force of it sends a shockwave through you, your body jolting forward as he pushes you to take him completely. The sudden movement, the intensity of the moment, takes you by surprise, and you struggle for a second, your throat constricting around him as you try to keep up. You choke slightly, your body rebelling against the overwhelming sensation, but Toto is there, always in control, always aware of you.

His hand moves to your throat, massaging gently, his touch both grounding and soothing as he helps you adjust. “Breathe,” he murmurs, his voice rough but gentle at the same time. “Just breathe.”

You do as he says, forcing yourself to relax, to trust him, to let go. The tension in your throat eases under his touch, and you manage to swallow, the sensation intense but bearable now that he’s guiding you through it. He watches you closely, his eyes dark with satisfaction, his hand still massaging your throat as you swallow again, taking him in fully.

“That’s it,” Toto whispers, his voice thick with approval. “Good girl. You can take it.”

You nod slightly, your body trembling as you continue to work him, the weight of his hand on your throat a grounding presence as you find your rhythm again. His breathing is ragged now, his body tense as he hovers on the edge, and you know it won’t be long before he lets go completely.

He tugs on the chain again, his grip firm but measured, and the sensation sends another jolt of heat through you, your body reacting instinctively to his control. You’re close to your own edge now, the intensity of the moment pushing you closer and closer, and you know that he’s orchestrating this perfectly, guiding you both to the brink.

“Look at me,” Toto commands, his voice rough with desire.

You force your eyes up to meet his, the intensity of his gaze sending a fresh wave of heat through you. His eyes are dark, focused, filled with the kind of possessive hunger that makes your breath catch. And then, with a final tug on the chain, he tips you both over the edge.

The sensation hits you like a tidal wave, overwhelming and all-consuming. You choke slightly, your throat constricting around him again, but his hand is still there, massaging, guiding, helping you through it. You swallow as best as you can, your body trembling with the effort, but Toto’s control, his steady hand on your throat, keeps you grounded.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl as he watches you struggle, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “Just let go. I’ve got you.”

You do. You let go completely, trusting him to guide you through it, to help you navigate the overwhelming sensations. You manage to swallow again, the intensity of it making your head spin, but Toto’s touch keeps you grounded, keeps you tethered to reality as the moment finally begins to pass.

When it’s over, you collapse against him, your body completely spent, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Toto is still holding the chain, still in control, but his touch is gentler now, soothing as he strokes your hair, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of approval as he pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. “You did so well.”

You nod weakly, your body still trembling from the intensity of the moment, but there’s a deep sense of satisfaction settling over you now. You did what he needed, what you both needed, and the weight of that accomplishment fills you with a quiet, powerful sense of contentment.

Toto presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips soft against your skin as he holds you close. The chain still dangles between you, a silent reminder of the bond that ties you together, the connection that goes deeper than words. But for now, it’s just the two of you, tangled together in the aftermath, completely in tune with each other.

And in this moment, there’s no doubt in your mind that you are his. Entirely, completely, undoubtedly his.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Menor's Halloween

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: The second of my Halloween-centric fics

Alexia grins as she looks at herself in the mirror, straightening out her skirt and putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

The family Halloween party has been a staple ever since her childhood, bringing the family back together every year without question.

It was basically a rule at this point, something no one could get out of and chosen to take place on a day when no one has an excuse to be elsewhere.

"Are you ready yet?"

It's Olga's first time at the party, unable to make it the past few years. She's gone fairly conservative with her outfit, a generic Halloween costume of a zombie cheerleader.

Alexia can forgive her though because originally Olga hadn't been able to come until her meeting in Madrid was cancelled last minute so she had to buy the unpopular costume from the store.

Alexia, on the other hand, has had her costume planned out for months with everything ironed to perfection.

"Ready!" Alexia calls out," I just need to find-"

"The bag is on the table where you left it last night."

Alexia grabs the bag from the table, swinging it over her shoulder before slipping into the driver's seat of the car.

Family events like this one normally end up with a lot of drinking and, while she wouldn't usually partake, Alexia's already planned to allow herself a few more drinks than normal.

Olga's decided to take up the driving home duty to let Alexia drink however much she wants.

"I'm nervous," Olga says, straightening out her cheer skirt and rubbing at her face - though she grows a little annoyed when the face paint rubs off onto her fingers.

"Don't be nervous," Alexia says," You've met everyone before."

"I know but...Halloween party seems more official."

"They'll probably already be drunk," She replies," And try to ply your with pizza. Or paella. Depending on if my aunt cooked or my uncle convinced her to order in."

"Sounds delightful."

"That's the spirit!"

Alexia knocks on the door, greeted by the slightly tipsy face of her cousin when it opens.

He giggles a little, a sure-fire sign he's been drinking. "I-I thought you were already here." He bursts into more hysterical laughter after that and Alexia gets the feeling that she's not in on the joke.

"And you've brought the wonderful Olga! Come in! Come in! Can I interest you in some pizza?"

"So Tio convinced her?"

"No. Mama cooked. Papa just ordered in anyway! Off you go now, Ale. I want to talk to your girlfriend!"

He pulls Olga away without another word and Alexia rolls her eyes.

"Gee, I love you too. Typical."

Alexia rolls her eyes fondly, easily losing her cousin and girlfriend in the crowd of family members either halfway to drunk or already firmly there.

A giggling hiccup has Alexia turning to see another one of her cousins by the fridge.

"I could have sworn you were already here," She says, giggling and Alexia sighs.

"Alright, what am I missing here? You're the second person to tell me that."

Her cousin giggles again, downing another vodka shot and shooting Alexia a drunken smile. "Just that I could have sworn you came with Tia Eli today. Though...you did seem a little shorter."

She giggles off before stumbling away but she's already given Alexia all the information that she needs.

She picks her way through her family members, stopping briefly to say hello to the aunt and uncle who are hosting and then her mother before finally seeing who she's been looking for.

"Is that my shirt?!" She demands," And my armband?!"

You turn around, eyes wide. An answer is on the tip of your tongue before you take in what she's wearing.

"Is that my skirt?! Are those my rackets?!"

"Don't change the subject!" Alexia says," You've dressed as me for Halloween?!"

"You dressed as me!"

"That's different."

"How?"

"It-It just is!"

Alexia takes you in as she steps back. You've got your hair done up in her usual ponytail rather than your regular braids. You've got her full Barcelona kit on along with the armband and her boots. You've even brought a football with you just in case people didn't realise who you were meant to be.

Alexia, on the other hand, had gone out of her way to dress like you. She's wearing one of your tennis skirts and your Nike shirt. She's got her hair in your usual braid with your Barcelona cap and even the gold shoes Nike gave you for your Olympic run. She's got a racket bag over her shoulder, full of the old rackets you'd left at home before your move abroad.

You seem to be taking Alexia in just like she's taking you in before nodding.

"Those are the replica shoes, right?" You check.

"Yeah. They cost a lot though. You're quite the superstar. That isn't one of my hattrick balls is it?"

"No, just one of the ones you leave lying around at Mami's."

Alexia nods. "Good. You look good though."

"Thanks, I practiced your haughty look a lot."

Alexia rolls her eyes. "I don't have a haughty look."

"You so do all 'I'm Alexia Putellas, captain of Barcelona, the best team in the world'."

"But I am Alexia Putellas and I am captain of Barcelona which is the best team in the world. I won the Ballon D'or twice, you know."

"Yeah, well I won all the Grand Slams. And the Olympics."

"Now, now," Alexia says," This isn't a bragging match. Because if it was, I'd win." She reaches for you, trapping you in a headlock and rubbing her knuckles against your head. "Which one of us has more awards?"

"Only because you're an old woman now. By the time I'm your age, I'm going to be the greatest tennis player in the world."

"Yeah," Alexia teases," Aim high."

You grin at her, shoving her away before trying to tackle her to the floor. She doesn't move an inch but you had been expecting that.

"I guarantee I can score more goals on you than sets you can win against me."

Alexia laughs.

"The garden's free. Want to test that theory?"

You grin. "Well, don't start crying when you lose."

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 The Book Thief.

Spencer Reid x Librarian!reader

Summary: In your uneventful first week at work, a man arrives to return a book two weeks late, and you decide to test his patience for a bit of fun.

Words: 2,3k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. teasing. spencer from the firsts season with glasses meow. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I'm putting a lot of myself here because teasing a little to flirt is so fun.

Spencer's day was quickly turning into a complete disaster, and anyone paying attention would notice. He thought that he probably looked like a lunatic. His glasses were misplaced, his hair was blowing in the wind, his pants were rumpled, and his bag was still open with a book that wasn't his on the verge of falling out. Normally he felt like a disaster, but this was beyond his usual limits. He didn't even know how he had gotten into this situation, let alone how he had managed to get up from the couch he had fallen asleep on the night before.

His feet made their way to the stairs of the library, which were quite imposing, and he struggled up them, holding on to the railing so as not to fall. He was somewhat taken aback when he walked through the door and noticed that the place was empty, without a single soul loitering or even browsing through a book. All the tables were empty and shiny, as if they had been cleaned recently and no one had used them since. Even the librarian's desk was empty, if a bit more cluttered with various books, papers, and pens strewn about.

Where was everyone? Was the place closed?

Reid was on the verge of departing, having considered the possibility that his time there might have been in vain. However, you emerged from behind the bookcase, observing him with a keen interest, almost as though you were equally taken aback by his presence as he was by yours.

“Hi.” You were the first to speak without taking your eyes off him.

“Hi.” He replied immediately, still showing a bit of his nervousness at your sudden presence. “I'm looking for the librarian. Do you know if she's here?”

As you listened to him, you walked to your desk and sat in the chair, feeling his gaze follow you. “Here I am.” You said, waving a hand to point to yourself.

He blinked a few times, his brain short-circuiting for a moment because you looked nothing like the woman who had been the librarian for years, with whom he always exchanged a few kind words and talked about the occasional book. She was probably three times your age, drank a lot of coffee, and didn't smile at him or anyone else as brightly as you did now.

“You're the librarian now?” He repeated, tilting his head slightly, looking for confirmation on your face. Noticing your nod, he felt even more out of place with his disheveled appearance and tried to straighten his unruly hair to look more decent.

It might have been a bit silly, but the fact that you were so young and probably about his age made him a bit more nervous than he would have liked. His social skills were already not the best with anyone, but with a pretty girl they were even less so.

“Yes, I am.” You confirm, noticing his slightly disheveled appearance at that moment. His subsequent attempt to clean himself up makes you chuckle internally as you watch him awkwardly try to look more presentable after learning who you are.

Spencer's curiosity grew by the minute. He looked at your desk, even though he had seen it before, but this time he noticed that most of the books there had dividers and post-it notes that made it obvious that you were reading them. He also noticed that the old caffeine smell that hit you as soon as you walked in was gone, and that was when he saw the cup of tea in your hands. It was clear to him that you had a different way of working than your predecessor. So he took a moment to watch in silence as you settled in.

“How can I help you?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts and startled him a bit.

He cleared his throat, hoping you hadn't noticed that he was trying to get to know you a little by spying on your stuff. His eyes moved quickly from the books on your desk to yours, pretending that nothing had happened and that he wasn't lost in his own thoughts.

“I've come to return a book.” He said after a few seconds, taking it out of his bag and placing it on the counter so you could take it.

You picked up the book and examined it with interest, running your fingers over the cover and checking that it was in good condition. It was the first time in your first week on the job that anyone had ever returned a book, or even approached your desk for anything more than asking where the bathroom was. After carefully checking to make sure the book was completely fine, you opened it to see if the due date was in order, and then you realized there might be a problem.

“Mr. Reid, you should have returned this book two weeks ago.” You pointed it out after going through the file. “And you didn't ask for an extension.”

When Spencer heard your comment, he looked surprised; his eyes went to the floor, and then he looked back at you with a hint of embarrassment. He realized that he had almost completely forgotten about the book after working on several difficult cases in a row for days. He had barely had time to get a good night's sleep as he had to travel non-stop from city to city.

“I'm sorry, I...” He begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had every intention of returning the book, but unfortunately the policy here is not to grant extension after extension…the last few weeks have been pretty hectic. I have to admit that I lost track of time a bit. I…”

At that moment, you noticed how nervous he seemed to be about the whole situation, and a somewhat wicked idea came to your mind to step into your total cliche librarian role.

“I understand your situation, Mr. Reid, but you are a regular visitor here, as far as I can see. The rules must be followed by all, and there are no exceptions.” You pointed as you handed the book back to the bookseller. “What if someone had wanted to read it? Imagine the sadness of someone who doesn't know if their favorite copy will ever be available again because someone missed the deadline.”

At your words, Spencer swallowed dryly, and a hint of horror came over his face at the thought that he might have prevented someone else from enjoying a good book. He automatically felt a bit selfish about it.

“I hadn't considered that.” He said, biting his lip nervously. “I really wanted to return it.”

Seeing him in all his nervous glory, you couldn't help but find him strangely adorable. You didn't understand how anyone could be so nervous about a library fine that wasn't even that high. You had already learned that most people didn't even bother to check out books because of the hassle and how easy it could be to forget to return them. Not everyone has a true appreciation for books, and to finally meet someone who does is comforting.

“This is a very serious matter. How do you plan to compensate the poor soul who might have been interested in reading that book?” You added, observing his reactions with careful consideration.

He looked down again for a few seconds and then looked up to meet yours in the midst of his great nervousness. He felt somewhat exposed and vulnerable, so he thought about apologizing again, but your expression suggested that perhaps that wouldn't be sufficient this time.

“I...” He seemed to have run out of words, his brain working quickly to think of a worthy excuse. “I'll pay the fine, of course.”

“Oh, certainly.” You laughed lightly at the obvious, easy way out I'd given him, and he raised an eyebrow as if expecting something else. “But I think that's a bit mundane, don't you? You can't throw money at every problem that comes your way.”

Spencer's mind began to consider what other possibilities you might be alluding to. He even contemplated offering more or apologizing again until he noticed a subtle gesture that suggested you were holding back a smile. It was then that you stood up from your chair to be closer to his height, surprising him. He wasn't accustomed to someone being so suddenly close to him, which made his cheeks flush a little.

“Can I ask you a question?” Your breath brushed against his, which made him nod quickly, indicating his willingness to engage in further conversation. “Are you a book thief, Mr. Reid?”

The question takes you by surprise, and he is momentarily at a loss for words, just watching the way the soft light from the lamps hanging above you two reflected in your eyes. The unexpected proximity and the sudden question were not what he had envisioned in any of the thousand scenarios his mind created per second. He took a moment to collect his thoughts and then answered, his voice slightly hoarse.

“A book thief?” He repeated, as his brain processed what you had just asked him. “No, of course not. I would never...”

“Then what are you stealing, Mr. Reid?” You look into his eyes in a way that makes him shudder and feel both the urge to run away and the desire to never escape. “Maybe hearts?”

Spencer's cheeks reddened in a mixture of surprise and shock at your words. The idea of being considered someone capable of stealing hearts sounded so absurd to him. He stared at you, unable to find the right words to respond, his brain went blank for a few seconds, which was an unusual experience for someone like him. And the fact that you kept calling him ‘Mr. Reid’ didn't help his heart stop beating so hard and his rational side come into focus a bit.

“What? I don't...I didn't...” He finally managed to stammer. “I don't steal hearts. I…I only read books. I love books.” He blurted out, noting how sappy that last sentence had sounded.

Tell a librarian that you love books. Really? That's a good response to a weird kind of flirtation?

Reid wanted to punch himself in the face.

“Did you know that a Yale University study found that those who read books live an average of two years longer than those who don't?” The words were pouring out of his mouth before he could control them and think about whether it was timely or not. “Reading keeps the brain healthy and strong by keeping it active...which...which could be one of the reasons why those who read live longer.”

“Well, that's interesting. It seems like we'll be living longer.” You said this with a seriousness and interest that surprised him because he expected quite the opposite.

At that moment, you noticed that his glasses were out of place, and you couldn't help but feel the need to step closer and put them back on properly. As soon as you did, he froze. No one had ever done this before, and it seemed strangely intimate. He already felt quite vulnerable under your gaze, and your unexpected gesture made it even harder for him to keep his composure.

He swallowed dryly, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. “Uh...thank you.” He murmured, his voice a little shaky.

Despite his considerable expertise and success as a profiler, he felt somewhat uncomfortable in this particular situation. The feeling of being watched so closely, along with your questions and your touch, left him almost speechless and unable to profile you. He wasn't used to people catching him off guard like that, and he found it challenging to come up with a witty response that would make even the slightest impression. He felt a little out of his depth, and in a strange way, he liked it.

“It's nothing, Spencer.” You replied with a smile.

His first name...it's possible that he had never liked to be called that name as much as he did until that moment, when it came from your lips.

“May I call you that?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts again.

“Yes, absolutely. Please.” He replied too quickly and now wishes he hadn't. He probably sounded foolish.

“Well, Spencer.” You repeated his name again, simply for the joy of it, which caused him to smile and try to talk again.

But the moment had to break suddenly.

You were both taken aback by the sudden opening of the front door, which prompted Reid to refocus his attention as soon as you both turned away from each other. You sat back in your chair, patiently awaiting the arrival of the newcomer. And at that moment, the former librarian appeared with a bag from a nearby restaurant in her hand, watching the two of you with interest.

“Hi mom.” You said.

His eyes widened as he looked back and forth between you, the former librarian, and the door. He was trying to understand the situation and how he hadn't foreseen it before. He hadn't even considered that there might be a relationship between the woman he had known for years and you, as you hadn't mentioned anything either.

“Mom?” He was frowning.

Spencer's phone suddenly rang, a high-pitched, shrill sound that echoed throughout the library, breaking the rule of silence. However, it was a rather timely interruption, giving him a chance to regain his composure and escape the increasingly uncomfortable and confusing situation. After apologizing, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, saw the caller ID, and breathed a sigh of relief that it was his work.

“Sorry.” He muttered, his eyes darting between you and your mother, barely noticing the resemblance between the two of you. “I...I have to go, but thank you for the help. I won't forget to return a book again.”

And with that, he left.

“I think I scared him.” You said to your mother as the door closed behind him, and the sound of his footsteps as he walked away confirmed that he wouldn't hear you.

“And it's not even Halloween yet, honey.”

[bookishdreamer28]

𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓'𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔 ❣

Happy new Year everyone! May this new year bring new goals, new achievements, health, happiness and a lot if inspiration to your life!!

And here's my poly!marauders x reader fic! I had no idea what to write or what was going to be the plot in this one, but since it's new year, I thought of writing something sweet and a bit funny to match the vibe! Hope you'll like it, cause I'll post more fics with these boys ^3^

"Oh, she fell asleep?!" Sirius approached your sleeping form on the comfy couch of your dorm room, and kneeled down next to Remus, which he softly brushed your soft hair through his long fingers.

"Yeah..." Remus replied in a dazed look, as he continued keeping his eyes on you. You didn't even had to do anything and he was already hypnotized by you.

"But it's already 23:30! I was waiting for my new year's kiss!" Sirius all pouty, crossed his arms over his strong chest and James laighed lightly at how childish Sirius could be at times. These boys were just obsessed with you. You are their precious little thing and they can't ever get a minute without wanting your love and affection. Just like you do too with them.

"Sshh! Don't you dare wake her up guys or else I'll punch your guts." He said sternly at them and the instantly turned to you again when he heard a soft whimper. When he made sure that you were still asleep, he got up slowly from his crouched position next to your sleeping form, and went to bring your favorite fuzzy blanket to cover your body.

"She's really something else huh?" James said adoringly as he watched you.

"Our precious little thing." Sirius kissed your forehead and held your hand in his, caressing it gently. Remus came back again and covered you with the blanket.

"Can't believe it's been already a year since we met her. It feels like i was just...supposed to happen, you know? We were meant to be together." Sirius continued and Remus smile softly at his boyfriend's words, placing a kiss on the raven haired boy's lips.

James joined them and all three were there with you, like a strong shield to protect you even in your sleep. Sirius placed a comforting arm around Remus shoulder.

Suddenly your body moved making the boys stop talking.

"Look what you've done! You've woken her up!" He furiously told them and he then changed his angry look into a softer one when his eyes fell on you again.

"But we didn't-"

"Sh."

"Oh don't shush me-"

A groan left from your lips.

"Sweetheart? Are you ok?" His voice low and soft, trying not to scare you in your sleepy state with loud noises. When you didn't replied, Remus got nervous. He knew he was overreacting again, but the nonstop scenarios in his head could calm his nerves.

He shook slightly your body, not caring about ruining your sleep now, since his only concern was to see your beautiful eyes open.

"Remus, just a minute ago you were about to chop our heads off for waking her up! Don't tell me that you start maling scenarios that something is wrong because as you can clearly see she's fine! She probably got a bit tired-" He tried to push his hand away from your shoulder but then a sudden movement caught him off guard as he almost lost his balance.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Your head knocked on Sirius forehead and you both groaned at the impact.

"My goodness you're ok?!" James approached you, with a worried look on his face. You looked up at Sirius touching his forehead and instantly climbed on his lap. His arm instinctively wrapped around your waist and held you.

"I'm so sorry Sirius. I thought-"

"I'm ok pretty baby don't worry about me. Are you ok though?" His fingers traced on your forehead to see if there was a pump forming.

"I'm fine." You chuckled and the sound was like a music to his ears. Not being able to resist, he cradled your face and kissed you like you were the oxygen he so desperately needed.

"Did you have wine before us or something?" James teased and you rolled your eyes at him, which made him pinch your cheek in return softly.

"No! I just felt a bit tired." You yawned and Sirius let you lay your head on his chest, as he placed one hand on the side of your face to keep you close to him.

"Remus? What is it?" James voice broke you from daydreaming with Sirius and turned to look at him. Hsi hand was on his chest and you instantly got up from Sirius lap and went to his side.

"Remi what-"

"Can you please stop scaring me like this?!"

"But i didn't-"

"You'll sleep on my bed tonight."

"Hey she'll sleep on mine tonight!" Sirius angrily said but James pushed him to the side.

"Nope it's me. She's sleeping on mine."

"What I say goes. She'll sleep on mine and that's final." Remus placed you on his legs and hugged your waist tightly. You laughed at how ridiculous he sounded but he pinched the soft skin of your thighs slightly making you flinch and glare at him playfully.

"Stupid dorm rooms having so many beds." Sirius murmured but instead of arguing more, he laid his head on your thighs, placing a kiss on them.

"Remi there's no need to be this dram-"

"Don't make me repeat myself baby." He breathed against your neck, making you squirm in your seat, pulsating with need for more affection.

James sat next you, ans held your hand in his giving it a small lingering kiss.

"I think it's my turn to kiss you now." He mumbled against your lips and you sighed at how perfect felt against yours. Too busy kissing and hugging your boys, you didn't notice how it was already midnight. But that was until the noise of the fireworks outside the room's window could be heard, making you all stood up to take a better look at the magnificent sigh of colorful lights filling the sky.

"Happy New Year my loves!" You happily said as you all shared more hugs and kisses. But in the moment of exchanging wishes and love words, Sirius grabbed your hand and pulled along his side to his bed.

"Sirius what-" the other two boys had now a frown on their faces, and you tried to hold back a laugh.

"Nah ah. She's all mine now." He said and laid you ont top of him making you yelp, as Remus and James rushed in to "save" you. It was all perfect.

[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART ONE ♡

paige x azzi 

trope: ‘player’ p to ‘lover’ p

word count: 7.7k

A/N: This is another Pazzi series but in this one they don’t know each other well prior to Uconn. This story is also based off of the 23-24 roster so Nika and Aaliyah will be in it. Let me know what you think about the first chapter if you can!

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

June 2023

The air in Storrs was thick with early summer humidity as Azzi Fudd stood outside her new dorm suite, taking in the moment. The sunlight reflected off the glass windows of the building, casting sharp shadows on the sidewalk, and a slight breeze brushed through the trees. It was time for the summer session, and though she was excited, a nervous edge clung to her as she stared at the door in front of her.

It was one thing to have visited campus on her official trip, a whirlwind tour that had felt like a dream. But this—this was different. This was real. She was officially here now, transferring from the University of Maryland, a school much closer to her home state of Virginia. And everything felt... uncertain.

Azzi glanced back at her parents, Katie and Tim, who were busy unloading boxes from the trunk of the family car. Her mom smiled warmly, but Azzi could see the pride and slight sadness behind her eyes. They’d spent so many years together, traveling from court to court, celebrating wins and comforting losses together. Azzi knew that this moment wasn’t just a transition for her, but for them too.

“Everything okay?” her mom called out, noticing the hesitation in Azzi’s stance. “You good?”

Azzi nodded quickly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, Mom. Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” Tim asked, as he hefted a large duffel bag onto his shoulder. His voice, deep and steady, was always a source of comfort, even now, when he was trying to hide the slight lump in his throat.

Azzi let out a breath and smiled. “Just... everything, I guess. Feels different now. I’m really here, you know?”

Tim chuckled softly, giving her a quick side hug. “You’ve been ready for this since you were six years old, Azzi.”

“Yeah,” she said, a little louder this time, trying to shake off the butterflies in her stomach. “I guess so.”

Just as Azzi was about to walk inside, she heard voices from inside the suite. She unlocks the door to the common area and she sees two figures on the couch.  

It was Ice Brady and KK Arnold, two familiar faces from the team. Ice had been at UConn for a year now, and KK, like Azzi, was a newcomer. They’d both greeted Azzi warmly during her official visit, but this was different. Now, they were teammates, and the real journey was about to begin.

“Yo, Azzi!” Ice’s voice was full of energy as she spotted her standing there. She exchanged a quick glance with KK before both girls shot up from the couch in the living room.

“Hey!” KK added, giving Azzi a huge smile. “We thought you were coming in tomorrow!”

Azzi returned the smile, shrugging a little as she closed the car door behind her. “Yeah, I was supposed to. But I figured I’d come today so my parents could be at Jose’s game tomorrow.”

“Oh that’s nice,” Ice said with a nod. “How’s he doing, by the way?”

Azzi’s heart softened at the mention of her brother. “He’s good. Really excited. His team has this big AAU tournament this weekend so he’s been talking about it nonstop. 

“That’s awesome,” KK said. “I’m sure he’ll be great.”

Azzi agreed. "Yeah. are you guys who I'm rooming with?"

Ice gave her a playful smile. "No, the suite is going to be you, me and Paige. My room is the one right across from yours.” 

Azzi’s eyebrows lifted slightly at the mention of Paige. She already knew her from the USA U16 team, though they hadn’t spent much time together there, barely even spoke in fact. But she’d heard a lot about Paige from her best friend Caroline Ducharme who had filled Azzi in on some of the colorful details of Paige’s reputation on campus. On one hand, Caroline had talked about how great of a leader Paige was on the court, how she was the best teammate and friend anyone could ask for. On the other, Caroline had shared some of the more... interesting sides of Paige's social life. The way she seemed to move effortlessly from girl to girl, never sticking around too long with anyone, always leaving an impression, but rarely giving anything more than that.

Azzi blinked, her surprise not just from the name but from the mixed impression she’d formed of Paige. She wasn’t sure what to make of it yet, but there was no denying the complexity of the person she’d be sharing a suite with and Azzi was always one to try to understand people. 

“Paige?” Azzi repeated, trying to mask the hint of curiosity in her voice.

“Yeah,” KK said with a nod. “She’s not here right now, but I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

Azzi nodded, still processing. “I hope she doesn’t mind me taking up all the space with my stuff,” she joked, looking down at the suitcase, bags, and boxes stacked beside her.

“Nah,” Ice said, laughing as she led the way inside. “We’ve got plenty of room, trust me. Besides, Paige prolly has more shoes and clothes than me and you combined.”

As the three of them carried Azzi’s things into the suite, the easy camaraderie between them put her at ease. They chatted about the upcoming summer practices, the team’s expectations for the season, and the plans for team bonding over the next few weeks.

"Everyone’s cool," Ice said as she dropped Azzi’s bag next to the door. “Caroline’s been telling us about you so you’ll fit right in.”

KK agreed. “Yeah, I think you’re gonna love it here. I already do.”

Azzi smiled, feeling a little more comfortable with each passing minute. The transition wasn’t going to be easy—nothing ever was. Leaving Maryland, her home state of Virginia, and her family was tough, but UConn felt like the right place for her. The team, the tradition, the opportunity to grow—it was all right there in front of her.

After a few more minutes of chatting, and once everything was settled in her room Azzi turned to her parents, who were standing by the door with proud but reluctant expressions.

“You good?” Tim asked again, his eyes scanning the room, making sure all the boxes and bags were there.

“Yeah,” Azzi said softly, her smile genuine but a little sad. “I’m good.”

Katie pulled her into a tight hug, whispering into her ear, “We’re so proud of you. This is your time now. Just remember, we’re always here.”

Azzi squeezed her mom back, and then pulled away to face her dad, who nodded with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’ll call you tonight,” Azzi promised, blinking back any trace of emotion. It wasn’t goodbye—it was just a see you later.

With one final glance around the suite, she gave her parents one last hug and waved them off. Watching their car drive away from the curb, Azzi felt a weight settle into her chest, but she didn’t let it break her. This was the next chapter. She was here. She was a Husky now.

As Ice and KK returned to their spots on the couch, Azzi took a deep breath and sat down beside them. The nerves were still there, but the excitement was starting to overshadow them. 

…

It had been a busy, chaotic afternoon for Azzi, but the mood in the suite was starting to shift. The moving boxes were scattered across the floor, and though not everything was in its place, Azzi felt a little more settled. Ice had been a huge help—her energy contagious as she bounced from one task to the next, organizing, unpacking, and offering friendly banter that made Azzi feel like part of the team already.

Now, with a little bit of space to breathe, Azzi found herself in the kitchen, sorting through a few snacks she’d brought from home. Ice was at the counter, casually chatting with Azzi about everything from her childhood in Virginia to the UConn program, and how Ice had felt when she first stepped onto campus.

“I swear, when I first got here, it was like everyone already knew everyone,” Ice said, tossing a bag of chips into the pantry. “I felt like I was in high school again, trying to make new friends, but, you know, in a D1 college locker room where everyone’s the best.”

Azzi laughed, thinking about her own transition. “Yeah, I can’t imagine. It was weird enough transferring from Maryland. Different atmosphere. Different vibe.”

Ice gave her a sympathetic look. “You’ll get used to it. You’re a Husky now. Everyone has your back.”

Just as Azzi was about to reply, the door swung open, and in walked Paige. Azzi wasn’t sure what she expected, but it certainly wasn’t this: Paige, striding into the kitchen with her arm slung casually over the shoulder of a girl Azzi didn’t recognize. Paige’s eyes widened the moment she saw Azzi.

“Oh shit, you’re here already?” Paige said, surprised. “I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”

Azzi didn’t miss a beat, still calm and laid-back as she looked over at her. “Yeah I was supposed to,” she replied, shrugging. “But we figured it’d be easier to settle in today so my parents can go to my brother’s game tomorrow.”

Paige smiled, her tone lightening. “Ah, right. Family stuff. I get it.” Then she sauntered over to Azzi, giving her a quick, casual hug. Azzi, surprised slightly by the physicality returned it with an easy smile.

“I should’ve been here to help you get settled. Let me know if you need anything else. Seriously. I can help.”

“It’s fine, really. Ice and KK helped a lot already so I’m good for now, just getting organized.”

The girl Paige had walked in with stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for her attention as she cleared her throat. 

Paige blinked and glanced at the girl, momentarily forgetting her presence, trying to be a helpful teammate and all. She smiled at the girl and gave a little wave. “Right, right. Sorry about that. One second.” She turned to Azzi and Ice. “Let me just take care of this real quick.”

Azzi watched with mild curiosity as Paige turned back to the girl, her tone shifting. “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t know my roommate was moving in but don’t worry. I’ll call you later, alright?”

The girl crossed her arms. “You promise?”

Paige grinned, though she hesitated for just a moment. “Uh, yeah. I swear. I’ll call you.”

The girl wasn’t convinced. “How are you going to call me when you don’t even have my number?”

Azzi, looking on with mild amusement, couldn’t help but chuckle under her breath. Ice, who had clearly seen this routine a million times before, let out a snicker. Azzi found it just a little funny seeing this first hand. 

Paige shot Ice a brief glare before reaching for a random piece of paper, scribbling a number on it, and passing it over with a grin. “Here, I got you covered. Call me later.”

The girl took the paper, looked it over for a second, then gave Paige a satisfied nod and walked out, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Once the door was shut, Ice laughed and shook her head. “You didn’t even give her your real number, did you?”

Paige looked at Ice, looking completely unbothered as she grabbed a snack from the counter. “Nah. Why would I?

Azzi leaned back, still amused. “That’s... bold.”

Ice snorted from across the room. “Bold? Nah, it’s fine and dandy until you hear her overdramatic ass crying on a random Tuesday night knocking on the door. You know, ‘I can’t believe you don’t answer my texts, Paige!’” Ice mimicked in a high-pitched voice, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Paige shot her an unimpressed look. “I’m not that bad.”

Ice just snorted again, walking over to the counter with a teasing grin. “Yeah, right. You’d be better off giving out your real number to the next girl so I can actually get some sleep for once. 

Azzi chuckled, clearly entertained. “I feel like that’s something I’m going to hear a lot around here.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-accusing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Azzi shrugged with an easy grin, her tone still relaxed. “Just... a feeling. You don’t seem like the ‘long-term’ type.”

Paige smirked, leaning back against the counter. “I’m not. You’re quick.”

Azzi smiled back casually. “I’ve got my ways.”

…

Later that night, Azzi was standing in her room, staring at the drill in her hands, an increasingly frustrated frown spreading across her face. She had tried several times to drill a screw into the wall, but it wasn’t going well. The screw wouldn’t go in, and she couldn’t quite get the angle right. The half-hung poster she was attempting to place was starting to look like it might end up in a mess on the floor if she didn’t figure it out soon.

After a few more failed attempts, Azzi huffed and placed the drill down on her desk. She let out a deep sigh and then, with a resigned look, walked across the hall to Ice’s room.

Ice was stretched out on her bed, propped up on one elbow, scrolling through her phone. She seemed to notice Azzi’s presence as she looked up from her phone. “What’s up?”

Azzi stood at the door for a second, considering. “Do you know how to work a drill?” she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and frustration.

Ice snorted without even thinking. “Nope. But Paige’s your girl for that, she hung up and put together literally everything in here” she said, as if the thought of using a drill had never crossed her mind.

Azzi shot Ice a look, not really surprised but not quite ready to give up just yet. “Alright, thanks.” She turned on her heel and walked back down the hall, stopping in front of Paige’s door.

She hesitated for a moment not knocking if the girl was asleep before knocking lightly on the door. “Paige?” she called.

From inside, Paige’s voice floated through the door. “Come in.”

Azzi opened the door slowly and walked inside. Paige was lounging on her bed, gaming controller in hand, completely immersed in whatever game she was playing. The sound of a loud explosion from the TV made Azzi pause, unsure if she should interrupt.

Paige didn’t notice Azzi standing there at first, so Azzi spoke up, half-joking, “Never mind, I didn’t want to bother you…”

Paige immediately hit the pause button on the game, her focus shifting toward Azzi as she leaned forward. “Nah, wassup? You need something?”

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at how quick Paige was to drop her game. “Yeah, actually. Can you help me with something in my room? I can’t get the damn screw in the wall.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Sure thing, no problem.” She stood up, tossing the controller aside. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

The two of them made their way down the hall to Azzi’s room. Azzi moved aside so Paige could have space to look at the wall, where a lone screw still stubbornly jutted out, barely halfway drilled in.

Paige couldn’t help but laugh as she inspected the job Azzi had done so far. “Okay, no offense, but this is probably the worst drill job I’ve ever seen,” she teased, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Azzi raised an eyebrow and grinned, folding her arms across her chest. “Shut up, Paige. It’s not that bad.”

Paige chuckled again but didn’t say anything more as she grabbed the drill from the desk and started to work. She quickly fixed the screw, tightening it into the wall with ease. The sound of the drill whirring made Azzi relax as Paige went about the task with no problem at all.

“So, how’d the move-in go?” Paige asked casually, her tone more laid-back now that she was drilling screws into the wall.

Azzi leaned against her desk, watching Paige work. “It was alright. A little chaotic, but Ice and KK helped me get most of the stuff in. This place is a lot bigger than I thought tho. Not what I expected when I saw it on the tours.”

Paige nodded, glancing over at her briefly. “Yeah, I get that. I had the same reaction when I first moved in. It’s like... huge, but at the same time, it feels like home. You’ll get used to it.”

Azzi smiled. “I think I already am, actually. Everyone’s been so chill.”

Paige finished drilling the last screw into the wall and stepped back, inspecting her work. “There we go. Nice and sturdy,” she said, wiping her hands on her pajama pants. “You’re all set.”

Azzi stepped over to the wall and lightly tested the screws. “I’m impressed,” she said, grinning.

Paige shrugged nonchalantly, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve done it a few times.” Then her expression softened as she glanced at Azzi. “But seriously, anytime you need help, don’t hesitate. I’m here.”

Azzi returned her smile, genuinely appreciating the offer. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The two of them stood there for a moment, looking at the poster now hanging neatly and safely on the wall. Azzi stretched and yawned. “You probably saved my life. I’m pretty sure if I did it we would’ve been in the emergency room in the middle of the night.”

Paige just grinned as she laughed lightly. “It’s all part of the job. Just don’t make me do everything in your room like Ice did okay?”

Azzi chuckled. “I’m not making any promises. But thanks again Paige. Goodnight.” 

Paige gave a small wave, then turned to head out the door. “Goodnight.”

Azzi watched her go, feeling that familiar sense of quiet satisfaction after a day of transitions. She took a moment to look around her room again, now that the poster was securely on the wall and a few of her things were more organized. It felt more like home already.

With a quiet sigh, Azzi grabbed her phone, checking the time, then turned off the lights, closed her door and slid under the covers.

Through her closed door she could hear a faint “Goodnight Paigey” from Ice across the hall, followed by a low laugh.

Azzi smiled to herself, feeling a bit more at ease than she had earlier in the day. It was the first night, but she already felt like this could be her place. She closed her eyes, letting the day’s chaos finally fade away, as the soft hum of the dorm drifted into the quiet of the night.

..

The first few weeks of the summer session had flown by for Azzi. At first, the pace had been overwhelming—everything from the practices to getting used to the new schedule—but after about the fourth day, she settled into a nice rhythm. The hustle and bustle of UConn life started to feel less like a challenge and more like second nature.

She was quickly getting to know her teammates and Caroline had made sure to introduce Azzi to everyone. The familiar faces were starting to feel like family, and it was easy to see who she’d click with.

Paige and Ice were definitely among the first she’d bonded with. The three of them had been roommates since the start of the summer, and they’d already established a little routine. Ice was always bouncing around, full of energy, and Paige was—well, Paige. Confident. Unapologetically confident, Azzi quickly learned. But it was more than that. Paige had this magnetic, charming way about her that made it hard to not like her, and Azzi found herself laughing along with her obnoxious jokes more often than not.

Their banter was effortless—teasing, joking, the kind of friendship where they didn’t have to work at it at all. Azzi had quickly grown fond of their inside jokes, especially as Paige continued to narrate her escapades with her "friends." Azzi didn’t mind. In fact, she found it hilarious hearing all the excuses Paige came up with. 

Azzi had only been woken up by random girls being a little too loud a few times —which, all things considered, wasn’t that bad. Ice had painted a very different picture, so Azzi was feeling pretty lucky. She figured if that was the worst of it, she could deal. Still, it was always interesting to see the fallout the next day especially with how unapologetic she was about it.

Though one night Azzi had a test for one of her summer classes early the next morning and the noise coming from Paige’s room had reached a new level of obnoxious. So Azzi started with a text: 

Azzi: Please tell her it can’t be that good. Big test tomorrow. 

When no response came after some time, Azzi groaned knowing she would have to get up. She padded over to Paige’s door and knocked. The noise stopped, and after a beat, the door cracked open. 

Paige appeared, shirtless, wearing only a sports bra that revealed her toned stomach that was slightly glistening. Her athletic shorts hung low on her hips as she leaned casually against the doorframe. Azzi felt her breath catch for half a second, her eyes involuntarily sweeping over Paige before snapping back up. 

“Like what you see?” Paige asked, her grin widening as amusement sparkled in her blue eyes. 

Azzi rolled her eyes, though her cheeks warmed. “Shut up,” she shot back, unable to stop the laugh that slipped out.  “Please tell her it can’t be that good. Some of us do like to sleep around here.”

Paige snorted, tilting her head as if considering. “Trust me, it definitely is,” she said, her smirk returning. 

Azzi groaned, her exasperation melting into amusement. “Oh my god you’re so full of yourself,” she said, shaking her head before crossing her arms. “But seriously I have a test in the morning. Can you find a way to make her less–you know?”

“Say no more,” Paige said, already stepping back into the room. “Give me two seconds.”

Before Azzi could respond, Paige turned and strode into her room. A moment later, Azzi watched, equal parts amused and stunned, as a girl—clearly embarrassed and trying to straighten her shirt—was ushered out of the suite. Paige reappeared moments later, leaning against the doorframe again like nothing had happened.

“All set,” Paige said, grinning. “Now get some sleep so you can ace that test.”

Azzi blinked, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You’re awful.”

“You’re welcome,” Paige quipped, shooting her a wink before closing the door.

Shaking her head, Azzi walked back to her room, equal parts exasperated and charmed.

…

Today was Saturday, and Azzi was sprawled out on the couch in the common area of the suite, waiting for Caroline so they could grab some food. It was quiet, unusually so, and Azzi had almost forgotten what it felt like to have some peace.

That peace, of course, was short-lived.

The door to Paige’s room creaked open, and out strolled Paige, looking like she’d just rolled out of bed. Her hair was messy, and she was wearing a hoodie with the sleeves rolled up, but she was walking down the hallway like she owned the place, much like she always did. And she wasn’t alone.

Azzi looked up, already knowing what was bound to happen. Paige was walking with some random girl, chatting casually with her, but Azzi could tell the vibe already. It wasn’t unusual—Paige was… well, Paige and they hung onto every word she said. She was definitely one of those girls who lived in the moment, and the moment often involved a lot of moments with other girls.

They exchanged a glance—Azzi’s eyebrow lifting slightly, Paige’s lips curling into a small grin. Both of them silently acknowledged the situation without saying a word.

Paige was clearly trying to move things along and get the girl out of the suite without making it awkward.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” the girl asked, voice sweet, almost hopeful. She didn’t seem to want to leave.

Paige, flashed the girl a smile. “I really appreciate the offer, but I’ve got a busy day ahead,” she said smoothly, despite the fact that the team was off today.

Azzi couldn’t help but react to that, silently amused by the lie. But Paige said it with such conviction that it almost sounded believable.

The girl, however, wasn’t so easily deterred. She tilted her head, her smile faltering. “Oh, come on. You sure? I can hang out for a bit longer.”

Paige held her ground, gently guiding the girl toward the door. “Really. I’ve got a ton of things to do. A busy day ahead. But I had a great time last night, Kelly.”

The girl froze for a second, the name clearly not sitting right with her. “It’s Kelsy, not Kelly,” she corrected, voice suddenly sharp.

Azzi, who had been sipping her water on the couch, didn’t manage to swallow in time. She choked, water spluttering out of her mouth as she tried desperately not to laugh.

The girl shot her a glare, clearly annoyed by the interruption. Azzi, trying to regain composure, quickly cleared her throat. “Sorry,” she said, though it was clear she was doing everything she could to hold back a laugh. “I just—uh, you know water went down the wrong way”

Paige, without missing a beat, gave a shrug, offering the girl a small, unbothered smile. “Yeah, right. My bad, Kelsy,” she said, waving her off with exaggerated sincerity.

The girl, not buying it, huffed, clearly upset, before storming out of the suite. The door slammed behind her with an almost dramatic finality.

Azzi stood there for a moment, her mouth hanging open in disbelief, before she finally let out a full laugh, shaking her head. “I didn’t think it could get worse than the Tiffany thing, but wow. That was a level of awkward I didn’t even expect from you.”

Paige, who had been casually leaning against the door frame, just gave a small laugh herself. “What can I say? People get confused. It happens.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what happened.”

Paige smirked, clearly amused by her own antics. “Well, what do you expect? I’m a very popular girl.”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re something else.”

Paige grinned, crossing her arms. “Yeah, I know.”

Before Azzi could say anything else, the door to the suite opened again, and Caroline appeared, looking like she’d seen the fallout of the chaos that just ensued inside the suite.

“I have no idea what just happened but you ready to eat Azzi, I’m starving?” Caroline asked .

Azzi, still grinning, grabbed her bag. “I think I’m ready for food. The whole situation that unfolded was enough for me.”

Paige gave her a wink. “You’re welcome for the entertainment.”

Azzi followed Caroline out the door, still smiling to herself as they walked down the hallway. Behind them, Paige went back into her room. 

…

Later that evening, after hours of texting back and forth in the group chat, the team decided to gather in Nika, KK, and Aubrey’s room. The campus was eerily quiet, and the rain that had started around noon was still pouring, giving everyone the perfect excuse to stay indoors and hang out.

When Azzi arrived with Caroline and Jana, the atmosphere in Nika’s room was already buzzing with energy. The team was always a little chaotic when they came together, and tonight was no exception.

Caroline and Jana waved as they entered, heading straight for Ayanna, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through her phone. They quickly fell into an easy conversation as the three of them always did.

Azzi, however, was drawn to the couch where Paige and Nika were lounging. The two of them were in the middle of a low-key conversation, but when Azzi walked in, Paige grinned and gave her an exaggerated wave. “Oh wow look who finally made it!”

Azzi smirked as she plopped down beside Paige, nudging her with her shoulder as she did. “Things were just so boring without me huh?”

Paige rolled her eyes, leaning into Azzi’s side. “Yeah, well, we were thinking about getting a game started anyway, but we’re so glad you graced us with your presence”

Nika looked over at the two of them, her voice light but teasing. “You two are honestly the worst at acting like you’re not attached at the hip already.”

Azzi and Paige shared a glance, both of them laughing before Paige nudged Azzi again. “What can I say? I’m her favorite person.”

Azzi gave her a knowing look. “I was gonna say ‘I’m yours,’ but we’ll keep it PG.”

Paige snorted. “Please, you can’t even hide it. It’s ok to admit it.” 

KK, who was pacing around the room like a ball of energy, jumped in. “I’m so bored! Somebody needs to come up with something fun. Right now. I can’t handle another second of just sitting here.”

Aubrey, who had been quietly observing the back-and-forth, laughed. “You can’t sit still for five minutes without going stir-crazy. We do need a game for the drinks, though.”

“How about something that makes us talk?” Caroline suggested from the corner of the room, already leaning in toward the group. “Like Two Truths and a Lie or something.”

“Or Truth or Drink?” Paige suggested, raising an eyebrow at the rest of the group. “You know, if you’re not feeling brave enough for truth, you just take a shot. Keeps things interesting.”

KK immediately jumped on that idea. “I love it. I’m in.”

Azzi added in, “No one gets to make up anything too wild. Yes I’m looking at you Paige.”

Paige grinned and leaned back against the couch. “You know I’m just here for the drama, all my business is out there.”

Eventually Nika grabbed a bottle of tequila from her dresser and set it on the table. Everyone shifted in their seats, eager for the game to start. They hadn’t even taken a sip yet, but the excitement was already buzzing.

“Alright,” Nika said, giving a cheeky grin, “Truth or Drink time. No backing out, no chicken-out answers. If we ask for more details you have to answer. If you can’t answer honestly, you drink.”

Caroline picked up a drink, already eyeing it. “You all know I’m going to answer everything honestly. I'm basically an open book.”

Paige rolled her eyes at Caroline’s proclamation. “Don’t get too cocky. I’m pretty sure I can handle anything you throw at me.”

Everyone laughed as the game began casually, with people picking easy questions to warm up. It was now maybe the second round and Ayanna was up. 

“Okay, Azzi,” she said with a mischievous smile, “who was your first crush?”

Azzi’s eyes widened a little. She wasn’t exactly ready to dive deep yet, especially with her knowing the answer. “Uh, I’m gonna have to pass on that one. Drink it is.”

She grabbed a shot and took it without hesitation, laughing it off. “Some things are just better left a secret.”

“Alright, alright,” Nika said, playfully waving her hand. “We’ll keep it light for now, but I’m coming for the good stuff later.”

They moved around the circle, everyone keeping it easy until the questions started getting a little more personal. That’s when Nika’s turn came up.

“Okay, Nika,” KK asked, leaning in with a grin, “tell us about the boy you’ve been talking to from the basketball team.”

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Nika, who instantly blushed.

She raised her hands in mock surrender. “Oh no, I’m not answering that. I’ll just drink.”

Without missing a beat, Nika poured herself a shot and knocked it back, looking like she regretted the decision immediately. The group burst out laughing, KK throwing her hands up.

“That’s what I thought!” KK said with a bright smile. “Girl boo you not fooling anyone.”

The game continued with increasing energy, the shots flowing and the questions getting juicier. Paige had successfully dodged every question so far, but she couldn’t dodge forever.

Nika said, smirking as she looked at Paige. “Okay, who was your last kiss?”

Paige didn’t hesitate for a second. “Kelsy.”

Azzi’s eyes widened for a second, then she burst out laughing as she caught the memory from earlier in the day.

Paige shot Azzi a look. “You don’t get to bring that up again. That was a one-time thing,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Azzi just chuckled harder. “It definitely wasn’t but whatever you say,” she grinned. 

“Anyway,” Paige said, raising her cup, “it’s not like it’s a big deal.” She took a sip, clearly proud of herself for answering that one without flinching.

“Alright, alright,” Ayanna said with a laugh. “You earned that one. But here’s a harder one—How many people have you slept with?”

Paige shrugged, genuinely indifferent. “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s a little too much to keep track of.”

There was a brief pause. Everyone exchanged looks, a mix of shock and amusement. KK adding in, “What does that even mean? You lost count?!”

Paige just raised an eyebrow, looking unfazed. “I wouldn’t say lost count. More so like I never started.”

“Okay, okay,” Nika said, shaking her head in mock disapproval. “Here’s a real question—Have you ever actually fallen for someone?”

The room went quiet, the group waiting for Paige’s answer. She glanced around the room then shrugged. “Nope,” she said flatly, taking a sip of her drink anyway. 

Azzi blinked. “Never? Not even a little? Not once?”

 “Nope,” Paige repeated with a grin. “It’s all just... whatever. 

“Alright, I’m curious about this one. What made you start sleeping around?” KK asked, raising an eyebrow.

Paige let out a small laugh. “Honestly? It was easy. And I don’t like getting too attached to people. It’s not complicated.”

Everyone nodded, though there were a few knowing looks exchanged, especially between Azzi and Nika, the two of them knowing Paige the best. 

“I feel like I’m getting to know you a little too well,” Azzi said, teasing her friend. 

“I’ve got nothing to hide,” Paige replied with a grin, pouring herself another shot.

Nika was next, clearly prepared to ask a question. She knew exactly how to get Paige to squirm.

“Alright, Paige,” Nika said, her grin wicked. “Who in this room would you sleep with if you had the chance?”

The room went dead silent. Everyone leaned in, waiting for the answer, expecting Paige to dodge. 

Without missing a beat, Paige smirked. “Azzi.”

The room erupted into fake cheers and exaggerated reactions. KK threw her arms up like she’d just won a championship. “Now see that’s positive attention!”

Azzi blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, what?” she asked, her voice a mix of surprise and amusement.

“I knew there was tension there,” Nika said, grinning knowingly as she pointed between the two.

“Nah, no tension,” Paige said with a wave of her hand, leaning back casually. “Azzi couldn’t handle me.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “Oh, is that right?” she shot back. “You’re lucky I’m too classy to argue with you about this in front of everyone.”

The room howled with laughter, KK practically falling over.

“Y’all are killing me,” Ice said, pretending to wipe a tear. “But for real, Paige, I’m offended. Not even a second thought for your other roommate? What am I, invisible?”

“Sorry, Ice,” Paige said with a teasing grin. “But we all know you’d fall in love with me.”

Ice gasped dramatically. “Excuse you, I’m not a simp.”

Nika shook her head, still laughing. “Alright, that’s it for me. I can’t keep drinking when Paige just steamrolls through everything. I’m done.”

“Agreed,” Ice said, standing and stretching. “This was fun until I got my feelings hurt.”

As the group began to disband, KK teased, “P boogers, you better sleep with one eye open. Ice coming for you.”

Paige laughs as she and Azzi stand up as well, exchanging a quick look. Azzi grabs her phone, checking the time. “You heading to bed too?”

Paige shrugs. “Yeah, it’s been a long day. You ready?”

Azzi nods, her hand already on the door handle. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Before they leave, they glance over at Ice, who’s sitting with KK, who was pulling out her laptop.

“Hey, Ice, you coming?” Azzi calls out.

Ice looks up from KK’s laptop, giving them a thumbs-up. “I’ll be there later, after I help KK with something. Don’t wait for me.”

They head out of Nika's room, walking down the hallway side by side. The sound of the rain is a steady backdrop to their conversation, the soft rhythm adding to the relaxed vibe between them.

After some time Paige glances over at Azzi, a bit curious.

"So, back in U16," Paige begins, looking over at her with a slight grin, "why didn’t you ever talk to me? I could’ve been harassing you for years by now."

Azzi laughs lightly and stops walking for a moment, thinking, before glancing at Paige. "Well, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to you. You just... kind of gave off a vibe."

Paige raises an eyebrow, incredulous. "A vibe? What kind of vibe?"

Azzi hesitates, trying to use the right words. "You seemed kind of distant. Like, you weren’t exactly there to make friends. You had this... I don’t know... serious energy. Like you were always focused on something else. It felt like you were... in your own world so I just let you be."

Paige shrugs, not offended but now more curious. "I was honestly dealing with some things at the time so I wasn’t as friendly as I usually am so I can see that."

Azzi nods, taking it in. "Yeah, I get that. It didn’t help that you looked... intimidating, too."

Paige’s eyebrows shoot up. "Intimidating? Me?"

Azzi chuckles softly. "Yeah, you. You never smiled, and your eyes were always sharp, like you were constantly analyzing everything around you. I don’t know, you just... didn’t seem like someone I could approach easily and be like, Hey I’m Azzi.”

Paige laughs, a little embarrassed now. "I had no idea I came off that way. I was probably just lost in my head all the time. Sorry if I freaked you out."

Azzi grins. "Nah, don’t apologize. Honestly, it was kind of intriguing. I spent the whole time trying to figure out what was going on in your head. You were like a puzzle I didn’t know how to solve."

Paige smirks, amused by the whole thing. "Well, if I was a puzzle, I definitely wasn't making it easy."

Azzi shrugs, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "True. But hey, the mystery was kind of cool. It was like you had your own world, and I didn’t want to disturb it."

Paige hums thoughtfully, looking sideways at Azzi. "Well, that was probably true. I wasn't the best at making people feel included. But... I’m not exactly the best at making the first move either."

Azzi’s grin widens. "You know, I had a little crush on you back then. That’s why I didn’t answer back in Nika’s room.”

Paige stops in her tracks, her eyes widening in surprise. "Wait, what? You liked me?"

Azzi laughs, shaking her head. "I didn’t say I liked you, I said I had a slight crush. Big difference. I just thought you were attractive."

Paige bursts out laughing, incredulity in her voice. "Me? I was scrawny as hell back then."

Azzi grins, slightly blushing now. "Yeah, but it was that... vibe you had. You know, the whole ‘don’t smile or talk to anyone’ thing? It was... kind of hot."

Paige smirks, raising an eyebrow. "Ah, so you’re saying I must be way more attractive now, huh?"

Azzi pushes her lightly, rolling her eyes. "Don’t flatter yourself, Paige."

“Yeah, yeah. I know you like what you see.” But then Paige stops for a moment, looking at Azzi in slight shock. "Wait hold on, you're gay?"

Azzi hesitates, then shrugs casually. "Eh."

Paige looks at her, clearly confused. "What the hell does ‘eh’ mean?"

Azzi chuckles. "It means I’ve never been with a girl. But, yeah, I’ve been attracted to them before. Just never really... explored it, I guess."

Paige hums thoughtfully, processing what Azzi’s just said. She shrugs, her tone casual as they reach the door to their room. "Huh. Interesting. Guess I never would’ve pegged you for that."

Azzi laughs softly, her eyes meeting Paige’s for a second before she opens the door. "Well, I don’t exactly go around talking about it. It’s just... a thing. But it’s not really something I’ve acted on."

Paige gives her a sidelong glance, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Hey, whatever works for you."

Azzi laughs again, pushing the door open to their suite. 

The two of them walk in, with Azzi dropping onto the couch and Paige tossing her bag aside before sitting down next to her. They’re both comfortable here, the casual vibe making it easy to just exist together.

Azzi stretches her legs out on the couch, leaning back. “You know, I was thinking about something earlier... You said you’ve never fallen for anyone. Ever.”

Paige looks at her, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I said that. Why?”

Azzi hesitates for a second, watching her. “I don’t know... I just— I guess I was surprised. I thought maybe... I don’t know. You’d had some kind of experience that made you feel different about people.”

Paige chuckles, leaning her head back. “Nope. You know me. Always avoiding anything that smells like feelings.”

Azzi raises an eyebrow. “Yeah I know that, but like, why though? I mean, even after all this time?”

Paige’s expression softens, and she pauses for a moment, clearly thinking about her words. Then she shrugs slightly, turning her head to meet Azzi’s gaze. “I guess... when my parents divorced, my mom left when I was really young. I don’t know. After that it kinda just changed my view and I just didn’t see the point. I figured, why get close to anyone when they’re probably just going to leave eventually? I mean, people don’t stick around forever.”

Azzi’s breath catches in her throat at the honesty in Paige’s voice. She had no idea that was part of Paige’s story. There’s a brief silence before Azzi speaks, her voice softer. “I didn’t know that.”

Paige just nods, her gaze distant for a second. “Yeah, well... it’s just the way it is, you know? No one really sticks around. So why bother?”

Azzi, still processing what Paige’s said, doesn’t want to make things awkward. It’s one of those moments where they don’t need to say much, but it means something—something shared. She shifts a bit, her voice a little quieter but still filled with warmth. “I get it. But, you know... not everyone’s like that. People stick around if they want to.”

Paige gives a small, rueful smile. “Maybe. But it’s easier to just keep things light. No strings. Doesn’t really give them the chance to decide for me.”

Azzi nods, a little thoughtfully, but then shifts the mood back to a lighter tone. “Fair enough. Well, your rules definitely make it clear that you’re not looking for a relationship. But I gotta ask...” She raises an eyebrow mischievously. “You’re always talking about rules but what are your actual rules when it comes to... sleeping with people? How have you made it work?

Paige looks at her for a moment, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. “Why? You finally ready to admit you’re interested?” she says, raising an eyebrow.

Azzi snorts and grabs a pillow, tossing it at Paige hard enough that it lands squarely on her face. Paige laughs, throwing the pillow back, but Azzi ducks it and grins.

“Paigeee, what are your rules?” Azzi demands, still laughing.

Paige throws her hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright! I’ll answer. But don’t get any ideas.” She shifts on the couch, getting more serious for a moment. “I don’t sleep with the same person twice. That’s rule number one. I don’t want anything complicated. And I try to make it clear to people that I’m not looking for anything serious. No feelings involved. And rule number two? No athletes. I see them way too often in the Pavilion. It’s just... weird, you know?”

Azzi raises her eyebrows, impressed. “Wow, no athletes? So you’re telling me, if I wasn’t your teammate, I’d be on the table?”

Paige smirks, then glances over at Azzi, her eyes glinting. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve seen you and you’re too much of a tease you’d probably want me to chase you.”

Azzi laughs again, shaking her head. “Wow, you really know how to sweep a woman off her feet.”

“I try,” Paige says, her voice filled with easy humor, the tension of the earlier conversation fading into their usual rhythm.

Azzi looks over at Paige, her smile softening. “You know, for what it’s worth, I think you’re full of surprises. I think you just need someone who’s not... afraid of sticking around, you know?”

Paige’s gaze softens at Azzi’s words, and she offers a small, genuine smile. “Maybe. But I’m good. I’ve got it all figured out for now.”

Azzi gives her a knowing look, but says nothing more. They both fall into a quiet, comfortable silence, the night outside slowly quieting down, just the sound of rain lightly tapping at the window as they relax together.

Azzi glanced at the time on her phone and stretched her arms overhead, stifling a yawn. “I guess we should probably get some sleep, huh?”

Paige stood up, stretching also. “Yeah, it’s been a long day. You ready for bed?”

Azzi smiled, pushing herself off the couch. “Yeah. I think I’m done trying to figure you out for tonight,” she teased lightly.

Paige grinned, a twinkle in her eye. “Good. Let me know when you’re ready to start again tomorrow.”

Azzi shook her head with a laugh as she made her way to her door. “Night, Paige. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Paige smirked, opening her door. “No promises.”

“Of course not,” Azzi said with a grin, stepping into her room. “See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight,” Paige called after her, before stepping back into her own room.

The doors clicked softly behind them, the quiet of the night settling once again.

[sturnmeovr]

Mama - Chris Sturniolo

Part One - Positive Pairings - babydaddy!Chris x fem!Reader Summary - Chris attends your first ultrasound with you, and when you realize you have to have transvaginal, he’s there to comfort you. Warnings - established relationship, uncomfortable situation??, a lil fluff, first pregnancy appointment, mentions of pregnancy W/c - 1774 A/n - Serving more babydaddy!Chris content 🫡 I hope everyone likes it. This will be a series 🥰 (Also haven't proofread this all the way so forgive me for mistakes) Masterlist Current Series - City of Love II Top Liked - Pierced II Most Recent - Alright, I Love You

“Arrived,” Siri sounded through the speakers of your car as you pulled into the parking lot of your gynecologist's office. You and Chris were at your first appointment, you know, the one that confirms the pregnancy.

Swearing to secrecy until you got the first sonogram, neither of you had told anyone, not even family. It was hard keeping such a big secret from Matt and Nick, especially since you were at their house all the time, you practically lived there. It was even harder for Chris because he never kept anything from them. He wanted them to be surprised, but he was also more nervous than he had ever been, thinking they’d judge him. I mean, who wouldn’t? You and Chris had only been in a relationship for a little over six months, and six months seemed way too soon to bring a new life into this world. Your relationship being in the public eye was not something you planned this soon either - three months in, you and Chris were spotted out after dinner. A few fans stopped him to take pictures, you thought you did a good job at blending in the background, but you couldn’t be more wrong. The next morning, everyone knew who you were, forcing the two of you to ‘out’ your relationship a few days later. 

After finding a parking spot, you shift your car into park and let out a long sigh. Chris’s eyes shift to you, “it won’t be that bad.” He shoots you a goofy smile, trying to enlighten the mood. “I know,” you scrunch your face, “I’m just nervous.”

Nervous was in understatement. Your gut had been turning ever since you saw the positive pregnancy test, and your nausea didn’t decrease a bit. You watch as Chris brings his hand to yours and interlocks your fingers, bringing your hand up to his mouth to plant a soft kiss on it. Redness creeps to your cheeks and you press your lips together, he always knew how to ease your worries. You were lucky you could rely on him in vulnerable times like this.

“Its gonna be okay,” he tells you in a reassuring tone, “nothing to worry about,” before placing another peck on the back of your hand. Collecting your thoughts for a minute before exiting the car, you enter the building together, heading straight for the elevator. This was your regular gyno, so you knew exactly what floor to go to. You press the button for the fourth floor, watching it light up as your heart pumps at a rapid pace. Knowing you were about to see your baby for the first time gave you an indescribable feeling. You were nervous, excited, and shocked all at the same time. Life felt like a fever dream since you found out. 

Ding!

The elevator chimes, indicating you’re at your chosen floor. You and Chris approach the front desk with the same pace, slow and sluggish. Chris felt more out of place than you did but he told himself he was there to support you every step of the way. He knew bringing a baby into this world was going to be a life changing experience for the both of you, but he still had a hard time wrapping his head around the fact you were actually pregnant with his baby. He worried about so many things - telling his family, telling the world, if he'd be a good dad, if you'd be a good mom. And if he was being completely honest, he feared having a baby would put too much pressure on your relationship. That didn't stop him from stepping up and supporting you every step of the way, though.

Checking in and filling out papers, the nurse calls you back fairly quickly. The two of you get settled in a room, not saying a word to each other, only exchanging a few toothless smiles here and there. Before the nurse steps out she hands you a gown, “you’ll need to change into this before the doctor comes in.”

You quickly change into the hospital gown and sit back down in the bed, “I’m so scared,” you groan, running a hand through your hair. Chris had been rummaging through the cabinets since he entered the room, currently blowing up a glove like it was a balloon. 

“Nothing to be scared of mama,” he coos, taking the glove from his lips, and quickly tying it. Chris knew being a goofball was the quickest way to make you laugh, and as long as he kept you laughing, he knew you weren’t overthinking. You snort at him, “Mama?” making fun of the new nickname. He playfully knits his brows together, “what's wrong with that? I mean, I can call you my baby momma if you want,” he laughs, a smirk stretches across his lips before he flings the hand shaped balloon at you. 

“It’s not funny, Chris! They’re gonna stick something up my coochie,” you groan. He raises his eyebrows, obviously concerned. “Up your cooch-,” he blurts out before getting cut off by a light knock on the door. You quickly bat his glove balloon away and call out, “come in!”

Your gynecologist opens the door and pokes her head in, “Goodmorning!” She had a bright aura about her that made every room warm when she entered it, which was one of the reasons she was your doctor. You knew you were in good hands when it came to her. “So, I see you’re here to confirm your pregnancy,” she beams. Your eyes drift to Chris and back to her, nodding slightly and giving her a polite smile. 

She takes a seat on the stool next to your bed, “well, on your paperwork it says you were about five days late when you tested positive which means we’ll have to do a transvaginal ultrasound.” You watch as she picks up a wand-like probe, your eyes widening at the sight of it, “don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it seems. We only do this when women are early on in their pregnancies, to get a better image of the fetus. Once you're 10 weeks, you'll get the abdominal scan, which is on your belly,” she explains in a cool tone.

“So, she won’t have to do it again?” Chris chimes in, clearly worried for you. Your gyno looks over at him, “you're dad?” Chris nods his head almost immediately, making a smile pull at your lips. It was cute how concerned he was, and it was even cuter how quick he was to take on the role of daddy. “Well, dad, no she won’t have to do this again and it shouldn’t be painful, just a bit uncomfortable,” she reassures the both of you. Chris nods, “okay, good,” mumbling quietly before scooting his chair closer to the bed, "cause that thing look scary."

The doctor gets you prepped, putting your feet in stirrups, spreading lubricant across the device, and pressing a few buttons on the keyboard in front of her.

“Now, you’ll feel a little pressure. Just let me know if it's painful or not,” she tells you before inserting the probe into you slowly. Your face contorts in discomfort, Chris noticing quickly, taking your hand in his, and stroking it with his thumb. “Feeling okay?” the doctor asks from the most awkward position, in between your legs. “Definitely uncomfortable,” you tell her honestly, making her chuckle. “No pain, right?” she questions, making you shake your head, “no. No pain.”

Your response makes your boyfriend lean in to place a comforting kiss on your temple, “doing so good mama.” Chris had always been very attentive, showering you with random compliments, kisses, and gifts. Ever since he found out about your pregnancy, not only was he waiting on you hand and food, but he also became extremely clingy. Something about knowing you were growing a mini version of him made his feelings for you stronger, if he wasn’t in love before, he certainly was now. In his mind, your relationship was pretty fast paced for only being together for six months. Sex was given, but the two of you already shared the first ‘I love you’s, and were practically attached at the hip. He was your best friend and boyfriend all-in-one. Though, your fast paced relationship scared the absolute shit out of him, it wasn't going to make him walk out on you or his baby. 

The room falls to an awkward silence, only the sounds of the doctors tapping away at buttons on her monitor. "Sorry, just trying to get a good picture," she tells you. Your eyes glued to the screen, not wanting to miss the first appearance of your future child in the slightest. Anticipation boils in your stomach and your heart thumps furiously in your chest, knowing you're about to see the new growing being inside of you, the one that had been making you cry and throw up nonstop the last couple weeks. Looking up at Chris, his expression is the same, fixated on the screen. "There we go," the doctor chuckles, "you have a stubborn one. Every time I'd get close, they'd move." You watch as the image of your little, tiny bean pops up on the screen, the fast heartbeat sounding out of the speakers as she turns the volume up and zooms in. Suddenly, all the worries and questions running rampant through your mind disappeared for a moment, and it was the same for Chris.

The inexpressible feeling lays deep in your chest and tear brim your water line. "Awe," Chris coos, "he looks like lil peanut," his eyes filling with lust as he tears his eyes from the screen to look at you. His comment earns a giggle from you, the baby did look like a little peanut, but the fact he was already manifesting a baby boy made your heart flutter. You blink away the tears, and suck in a breath, "looks like you're measuring at a little over seven weeks. Seems pretty accurate to me since you dated your last period, but at your next appointment you'll get confirmation on how far along you are."

Chris nods, watching the doctor print out copies of the sonogram, "is there any way we can get extra copies?" She gets you situated, letting you fix yourself, "Of course, how many?" You watch as Chris holds up his fingers to count, "like ten. If that's okay."

"We don't need that many," you snort, sitting up in the bed. Chris playfully scoffs at you, "yes we do. Our baby is gonna be so loved."

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @unknvhx @m11rx @ribread03 @thepubeburgler @loveparqdise @emely9274 (if anyone else wants on my tag list, just let me know!!)

If your tags aren't popping up, please make sure you have them turned on so you will get notified when I post. I don't want anyone to think I'm trying to be rude by not tagging when they asked ☹️

[ceilidho]

prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 4. (read 1, 2, 3) tags: dubcon; nsfw

-

You only realize after the fact that you may have miscalculated in thinking that this could be a one-time thing between the two of you. 

After listening to Johnny bitch and moan during the Christmas party about having to take time off work to spend the holidays with his very religious family, you delude yourself into thinking you’ll finally be able to have some peace and quiet around the store. Not literally, of course. Working during the holidays is always a recipe for exhaustion—parents coming in at the last minute to demand toys that have long since sold out, fights breaking out in every other aisle as customers fight for the last palatable set of Christmas ornaments and boxed fruit cake. 

You’re not delusional enough to think that work will be a piece of cake, but you are selfishly a little happy that you’ll finally get some time to breathe without Johnny hovering over your shoulder at all hours of your shift. Seasonal shoppers are as exhausting as always, but you get to sit alone in the breakroom with a cup of coffee in the morning right before your shift without someone staring at you or breathing into your personal bubble. 

Johnny spends his entire time off blowing up your phone, sending you pictures of his childhood home, calling you during your breaks, and sending you weird videos that seem to have been filmed entirely in the dark where you can’t see or hear anything apart from some weird squeaks and one loud grunt at the very end of the video that sounds kind of like—you close the video.

You spend the first few days of January dreading his return. The day of is like a shock to your nervous system, the whole morning spent pouring coffee with a trembling hand. 

“Hiya gorgeous,” he purrs when you clock in for your shift. You’re somewhat used to Johnny sneaking up behind you, so you don’t flinch this time when you feel the length of his body press up against you at the time clock. 

“Johnny, it’s seven in the morning,” you mutter out through pursed lips, shoulders stiff when he puts his hands on them and digs his thumbs into the tender points of your back. You bite back a moan.

“Missed ye, kitten. Cannae believe I went a whole week without hearing you purr.”

He could’ve phrased that a thousand other ways, but he just had to choose the one that would make you wince. He digs his thumbs in again, trying to push the moan out of you, but you tamp it down. You hold back a shudder when he plants his nose onto the crown of your head and inhales, drawing your scent into his lungs. 

“Where’ye assigned ta today? Jeff owes me a favour—gonna ask him if I can spend the day with ye so we can catch up.” 

You go still when he drops a firm kiss to the side of your head. “I’m…not sure. I haven’t checked the schedule yet.” It’s a half-lie. You may not have checked the schedule yet, but you know from having briefly chatted with your manager this morning in the parking lot where you’ll be spending most of your day.

Still, it means that you get to shake off Johnny for a bit. “Lemme go check for ye, okay, hen? Stay here, a’right?”

You watch him jog off down the hall to the breakroom before finally leaving. It’ll be better for you if you’re gone before he comes back. 

The first hour of your day is spent on softlines until Priya in jewellery randomly comes down with a chill and gets sent home early, forcing you to cover her section. Usually that wouldn’t be such a bad deal—it means you get to spend your shift helping people try on bracelets and rings, restocking the earring display, and leaning against the counter for hours at a time. It’s not a particularly busy station.  

While you're assigned to the jewellery section though, Johnny pops out of nowhere as you're helping a customer contemplating a birthday ring for his fiancé. With the kind of confidence that you’ve come to expect from Johnny, he uses your hand to model some of the rings, but this time it feels oddly weirdly intense. When he slides the first ring onto your finger, you can feel the way he holds his breath, even shudders a bit. He presses himself right up against you behind the display counter, hardness pressing against your hip. 

It doesn’t take long for your customer to leave. Johnny’s demeanour is off-putting, concerning even. You can’t fault the guy for being rightfully repulsed by the way Johnny crowds up against you like you’re alone together. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss through your teeth.

“Cannae help it, hen. I ken ye wanna wait, but it jus’ makes me a bit emotional seein’ my girl wearing a ring I put on.”

He blinks down at you with big, blue eyes, the picture of innocence. You should’ve anticipated there being a danger in letting Johnny stew over that on his own. Of course he’d come to his own conclusions, even one as deranged as thinking of your hook up as a step towards dating. You can’t help but side eye him. 

“We—we’re not a couple, Johnny.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Ye just let anybody eat you out in the supply closet then? S’that right?” It’s said rhetorically, like he knows the answer already. You flinch at the slight though.

“That was—” you cut yourself off to take a breath, an ache growing behind your forehead, “—that was a…it was a one-time thing. You can’t just act like we’re dating.”

His lips turn down in a pout, displeasure rippling across his face. You brace yourself for the inevitable argument, for shit to hit the fan, because obviously that’s what’s brewing under the surface. You brace yourself for worse too because when you happen to glance around, you realize how few people are actually milling around in the area. 

Then, instead of losing his temper, Johnny’s eyes grow smoky, heavy-lidded, and the pout lifts into a lazy, playful grin. “A’right, kitty, no’ dating then. That’s fine wi’ me.”

This time it’s you that frowns, staring up at him dubiously. “…Really?” It feels too sudden, quicksilver. Johnny’s fiery by nature, short tempered on his best days and more likely to grit his teeth and bear the displeasure of not getting his way than happily giving into it. His sudden smile is at odds with the version of him that exists in your mind, furious at you for denying him. 

Maybe you’ve got him all wrong. 

The gleam in his eye betrays nothing, however. “I swear.” He leans closer to you then, fingers fiddling with the name tag pinned over your chest on your work vest, straightening it. “Doesnae mean we have ta give the rest up though. Ye liked what we did in the closet, right, hen?”

It feels like he’s sucked the air out of the room, as big as it is. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.”

“Och, c’mon, kitty,” Johnny breathes, hunching just a little over and into your space, making the moment feel private, just the two of you. “Had to talk about it eventually. Did ye just expect that everything would go back to normal after ye let me eat ye out? Hey—” he catches you when you try to make a move to step away from him, wrapping a big hand around your wrist and tugging you closer to him, “—listen, kitty—it doesnae have to be anything serious, right? That’s what’s making ye all jumpy and nervous? I’ll lick your pussy, free of charge. Dinnae need any labels. How’s that sound, kitty? Dick on demand?”

It should repulse you. The way he speaks to you is crass, crude. His voice is hushed, haggard, fur stretched taut over stone—and yet, your hands tremble, just a little. It tempts you. Purring Scottish burr, lapis lazuli eyes, bristle cheeks that you still remember scraping up your inner thighs. He’s a package you can’t imagine sending back.

“You won’t get…you promise not to get weird about it?” you ask.

His smile curls up, impish. “Cross my heart, kitten.”

Maybe you’re delusional enough to think that you can have your cake and eat it too. There’s a voice in your head telling you to face the facts, but you disregard it as if you haven’t been working with Johnny for months. As if you aren’t aware of his penchant for saying or doing anything to get his way. It’s maybe naive of you. 

All you know is that he smothers a laugh when you tell him you’ll think about it. Knows he’s got you right where he wants.

You don’t fight when he drags you into the single-stall bathroom towards the end of your shift, letting him position you in front of the mirror before sinking to his knees behind you. Forces you to watch the way you come apart on his tongue, not giving you his fingers until you beg him to, the whispered plea a hairsbreadth away from becoming a scream. 

“Oh, did she miss me?” Johnny breathes, a happy laugh in his voice when he runs the broad side of his tongue over your entrance from the back. “Fuck, look at that. Winked at me ‘n everythin’. Hi darling, missed ye too.”

You don’t think you’ll ever be the same after hearing that come out of his mouth. You go hot all over again when you clench involuntarily, equal parts turned on and horrified. He sniggers before trying to cram his whole tongue up into you. 

There’s a moment of panic when Johnny draws up behind you after making you come and you hear him undo his pants. There’s nowhere for you to go with your pants still looped around your ankles, underwear pulled all the way down as well. You hear yourself hiss a startled Johnny when he slots a fat cock between your thighs, staring dumbly at the reflection of him behind you. At your back, he seems massive, lean and trim but towering over you, broad. 

He shushes you. “Dinnae be selfish, hen—gotta get mine too. Jus’ gonna fuck your thighs, dinnae fret.”

You squeak when he pushes your thighs together forcefully, dragging his cock over your folds to wet himself. Watching Johnny fuck is nothing like staring down at him when he eats you out. He pants harsh and ragged into the side of your head, nips at your ear. The glint in his eyes goes animalistic, vacant. Human desire recedes, subsumed into the animal part of his brain with the single-minded need to fuck. 

The only thing keeping him from driving up into you, accidentally or not, is the way you keep your thighs pressed together. A warm, tight channel for him to push his cock into. Thick fingers dig into your waist, sure to leave bruises. You wince when lean hips pound against your backside, growing frantic as need overtakes him. You flirt at the edge of panic, certain that at any second, he’ll pull your thighs apart and nudge the head of his cock up into you. 

“Jus’ like that, fuck,” he grunts. “Be a good little fuckin’ girl and jus’ let me—”

His tongue lolls out on a particularly rough thrust, hands groping over your belly and up to your chest, slipping his hand under your shirt and bra to pinch your nipple. He twists it mean, nasty, until you have no choice but to grunt through grit teeth, eyes watering. You feel like a doll meant for his pleasure, no choice but to grip the sides of the sink and let Johnny use you until he comes. 

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, eyes going half-lidded. “Love makin’ this pussy come. Love gettin’ her all messy and wet. Lettin’ me between your thighs even when I make ye nervous—fuck, ‘m gonna come, ‘m gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck—”

White come stripes the sink in front of you, thick and viscous. Paints the inside of your thighs as well when he drags his hips back until just the head of his cock sits nestled up against your sex. Hyperconscious of where it tags your inner lips, that there’s no barrier between the two of you, just come and skin. 

The full body shake shocks you, a ripple from your heels to the top of your head. 

His free hand grasps you by the hair when you try to slip away. “Ye gonna clean up your mess, baby?”

You glance back up at his reflection in the mirror, trying to suss him out. Shark-like eyes meet yours. Something you’ve seen in glances before finally staring back at you with full force. You reach for the paper towel dispenser with a shaking hand. 

“Nah,” Johnny scolds, giving you a shake. “With your mouth.”

The command hangs in the air, no joke or laugh to undercut it. His eyes read serious to you, still dark. No leniency present in the blue. 

You stare down at his come on the sink, slack-jawed. “You don’t seriously mean—”

“Jus’ kidding, silly,” he chuckles, giving a teasing bite to your earlobe and tugging. The tension in the air disperses. “Got ye, huh?” 

You force a laugh. “Yeah…got me.”

[randomshyperson]

Saw your drabble list challenge thingie, here's my request, absolutely no pressure or whatsoever though.

Wanda + hugs + no. 24

Your writing makes me so giddy and warm, like a school girl kicking her legs while reading dork diaries.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: hugging with height difference | warnings: none.

The team had thrown a big party to celebrate your return.

Wanda was feeling a bit out of the loop. Of course, she was relieved and genuinely happy that you were back, safe, and with little more than a few scratches on your face. But the setting, a room full of Avengers and anyone else Tony Stark could get at such short notice, wasn't exactly her scene.

Besides, Wanda barely had time to see you. Your sudden arrival at the compound was as quick as your departure - Shield had a lot of questions about your last mission. And the brief wave and a whisper of "see you later" was the only greeting Wanda received.

She forced herself to go to the party - Out of consideration for you and also because the Black Widow had politely persuaded her to attend.

But going didn't mean participating, and Wanda spent most of the night hiding in the bar while you told people all about your adventures in space with Captain Danvers and the God of Thunder - the latter seemed quite happy to have the attention stolen since he could focus on his fiancée Jane, instead of fawning guests.

Wanda hadn't seen Carol since she arrived, and she wished you had been as quick as the captain in escaping the guests.

Her patience grew thin as the night went on. In fact, Wanda could have stopped pouting at any moment and gone to greet you (Natasha's words, not hers) but she ended up being overcome by introversion, and the pain in her feet from the heels she chose, so just before they cut your cake - a birthday lost due to your time out of the planet - she sneaked out.

She could talk to you tomorrow. Or any other day, when she no longer has that nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach every time she imagines herself under your attention, talking directly to you, or being alone in your presence.

The path to the room is lonely since that side of the compound is empty due to the party. She holds her heels in her right hand but almost drops them on the floor when the elevator at the other end of the hallway opens, and you stumble out, breathless as if you were running to catch up with it.

"Hey, Wanda!" Your face lights up with a mix of happiness and relief, having managed to find her, so close to her bedroom door. She shifted her weight between her feet, smiling awkwardly. You tried to seem less flustered. "I can't believe you ran away from my party."

Wanda only realized how much she missed having you torment her when you did it again. She felt a lump form in her throat, surprising herself with the sudden urge to cry. You sighed immediately, as affected to see her again as she was.

"Sorry." She murmurs hoarsely. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“I know.” You give her a small smile, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she notices your footsteps toward her. “I guess I’m the one who should apologize. For not coming to talk to you sooner.”

She shakes her head. “You seemed busy.”

“Busy for my best friend? Never.” You assure her, earning a tearful laugh from her. Wanda isn’t surprised when your hands find her cheeks, wiping away the tears she hadn’t even realized she’d let fall. It was the first thing you did for her so long ago, back in a cell in Sokovia when you first met her, and something you’ve done ever since whenever she thinks of Pietro. You frown, worried about her tears, and Wanda sniffs softly, trying to control her emotions. “Did I say something wrong?”

She brings her free hand to your left wrist, massaging your skin with her thumb, while your hands linger on her cheeks, caressing the damp skin. “It’s just… so good to see you again.” She confesses, smiling through her tears. "You took a while." 

"The longest months of my life, believe me." You comment, offering her a small smile. There's a quick exchange of glances between you. Wanda thinks she imagines your eyes falling to her lips before you sigh and look at her with such affection that she feels her heart swell. "Come here, Wands."

She doesn't need to be told twice. It's not the first time she's hugged you, but it's only the third. The first time, you carried her in your arms away from a fallen city, and Wanda let her arms wrap around your neck. She couldn't even tell if it could be considered a hug, but it meant the world to her. The second, the first real hug, was on impulse after long training sessions in the tower and you were on enough adrenaline to forget about your super strength. Wanda complained softly, and you never hugged her again after a series of apologies.

But tonight, you wrapped your arms around her. Gentle at first, then as tight as you could. Wanda let her heels slide to the floor, her hands moving up to your back. The height difference between her and a Kryptonian was considerable, but it only made everything more perfect. She didn’t think much, just buried her face against your chest, inhaling deeply and letting her body relax into your hold.

Your fingers wrapped around her hair, massaging her scalp and running through the strands as she felt the heat from her cheeks spread throughout her body. She could no longer tell if it was emanating from you or her.

"I really missed you, witchy." 

She nodded softly at your words, her heart racing in her chest. She realized at that moment that there was no way to put into words the feeling that your absence caused her. She sighed, tightening the hug a little. You seemed to understand exactly what she meant.

[huhmiya]

DRIVER LICENSE | chris sturniolo

pairing: bf!chris x f!reader

summary: where chris finally obtained his driver's license after years of waiting, but during your first ride with him, he couldn't resist the urge to explore something else.

warning: smut, car sex, swearing, pet names (ma, mama, baby, darling, pretty girl, sweetheart), sub!chris, p in v, dirty talking, hand job, needy chris

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. bro needs his driver license though. OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE STURNIOLO TRIPLETS!!

WORDS: 2.1k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | chris - orange

-

Matt had always teased Chris about not having his driver's license, especially since he was turning twenty one in less than a week. Little did anyone know, he had been taking driving lessons and had finally obtained his driver's license.

His brothers and you were surprised, but happy for him nonetheless. You couldn't help but wonder how long he had kept this secret, especially since he had even bought a car without telling anyone.

At this moment though, you were in his room, running your hands through his hair in a way that made his eyes roll back in pleasure sometimes.

You were watching a movie together when he suddenly suggested going for a night drive. He trusted himself to drive with you, even though he would need to focus a lot since he had just started driving on his own without an instructor.

"Do you want to go for a night drive?" he asked, shifting slightly to look into your eyes while making sure not to disturb your hands in his hair.

"I don't mind, why do you want to?" you say, and he nods, a smile on his lips. It was reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland, but it was a pleasant, contagious smile.

"Are you going to drive?" you ask, and he simply nods again, closing his eyes as your fingers lightly massage his scalp, providing a sense of comfort.

You watch him as he shifts to get out of bed, and you follow suit, changing while Chris casually throws on a shirt over his sweatpants.

He grabs his car keys from the bedside table and then looks at you. "You look fine, baby, no need to get all dolled up," he chuckles, gazing at you.

You smile and listen to his advice, slipping on your shoes while he wears sandals with white socks. You glance at him from head to toe but say nothing, a small smile playing on your lips.

He had just left his room, but he held the door open for you to go first. He smiled and followed you downstairs once you thanked him and walked past, but you waited for him to go ahead after reaching the bottom of the stairs.

He then gently places his hand around your waist and wrapped his arm around you as you both headed to the garage to unlock his car.

You settled into the passenger seat while he took the driver's seat. You chuckled to yourself, which prompted him to look at you in confusion. "What?" he asked.

"I don't feel like I'm with you, it feels like I'm sitting next to Matt," you teased. He just rolled his eyes and playfully hit you in response.

“You're an asshole," he says before starting to drive. He had been nervous about it since he was still new to driving, and there was an unusual feeling in his chest because he was scared of making a mistake. However, he tried to push those thoughts away.

As he began driving, he decided to stop at a nearby shop first so both of you could grab some snacks before figuring out what to do and where to go.

You observed him focusing, finding it new to see your boyfriend behind the wheel, which definitely made him look more attractive.

His blue eyes were fixed on the road, his hands on the wheel showing prominent veins, his messy hair, a small smile on his lips, and the way he quickly glanced at you now and then to make sure you were okay.

He was parked close to the shop and quickly asked, "Wanna come in with me?" Your eyes met his before nodding, and he smiled as he headed towards the car, with you following suit.

As you both strolled towards the shop, he locked the car with the keys and then casually placed his hand on your backside as you entered the corner shop.

"Are you sure you're alright, darling?" he murmured, noticing your silence, but he didn't press further. He simply kissed your forehead.

You found it difficult to resist him any longer - his strong hands, his soothing voice, his masculine scent, and his protective nature all stirred a desire within you.

"I'm okay, I promise," you chuckled softly as he went to grab some snacks, and you tagged along, feeling like he was guiding you. He selected snacks for you and him, insisted on paying, even though you offered to contribute.

He carried the items, holding your hand with his free hand, not allowing you to carry anything. You obediently followed him to the car and sat in the passenger seat as he had instructed.

“Do you know where we're going now, sweetheart?” he asked as he finally settled in his car, gazing at you and gently caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes and relaxing, though your eyes was filled with love and more, as he had seen before.

He continued to look at you a moment longer before kissing your lips, causing you to pull back slightly, but you couldn't due to he made you to stay so your lips are connected to his.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, his hands moved to your hair as he drew you closer, despite the constraints of the gear shift and other obstacles.

“Why do you look so beautiful tonight? You always are, but perhaps it's just the lighting that's making you look so stunning right now,” he whispered against your lips.

He eventually pulled away and removed his shirt, feeling a strong desire for you but managing to restrain himself, asking first, “Are you as turned on as I am?” he inquired.

You chuckled softly, nodded, and took control as he leaned in to kiss your lips. You grabbed his belt, pulling him closer, and kissed his lips quickly before drawing back.

“Want to take this to the back seat?” You suggest, and he simply gazes into your eyes before a smile forms on his lips, which quickly turns into a smirk.

Without saying a word, he climbs into the backseat, and you follow suit, pinning him down and kissing him passionately. His hands move to your backside, gripping it tightly.

“How much do you want me?” you whisper against his lips as you pull back slightly, meeting his blue eyes.

“Really badly, ma,” he mutters, his cheeks turning red. He reaches for your head, pulling you in for another kiss, to which you eagerly respond.

As you both explore each other's mouths, his hands roam over your body, unsure of where to settle. When you eventually break the kiss, he lets out a small whine, keeping his gaze fixed on you, uncertain of your next move.

You remove his shirt, exposing his chest as his fingers graze your shirt. It seems like he's nervous but trying to appear confident.

You remained silent but let out a small chuckle before gently brushing his hair away from his face, causing him to smile.

Soon after, you removed your own shirt, his eyes fixed on your body. Without hesitation, he ran his hand over your boobs, since you haven’t been wearing a bra due to your wearing pajamas before leaving the house.

"Shit, mama," he whispered, gazing at your breasts, unable to tear his eyes away. You simply smirked before kissing his jaw.

A soft moan escaped him as he leaned into your touch, his hand now moving to your hair, tenderly stroking it. However, he found it hard to concentrate, so enthralled was he by your touch.

"Y/n... please," he whispered, struggling to articulate his thoughts. You gazed at him after breaking away from his jawline.

"Look at you... can't even speak properly," you teased, causing him to meet your gaze and squint, though he bit his lip to suppress a smile.

You removed his sweatpants, causing his heart to race faster as you saw his arousal growing due to your actions.

You gently grasped his erection and began to stroke him, eliciting shivers and heavy breathing from him.

"Y/N, oh god, baby, I'm going to cum if you continue," he whimpered, locking eyes with you and then glancing at where your hand was around him.

Pre-cum dripped from his cock, indicating his intense excitement for you. He was unable to contain himself any longer, feeling as though he was being teased.

His legs were trembling slightly as you stroked him, and when you kissed his neck, occasionally nibbling on it, he let out louder moans that were particularly noticeable because you were in his new car.

"Y/N, please fuck me! Please, baby! I'll do anything," he cried out, pulling his own hair as he loved when you did it, pretending his hands were yours.

"So needy for me, I love that from you," you said as you pulled away from his neck, his eyes filled with passion and pleasure.

You continued to stroke him a little longer before pulling away. He whimpered, but then he watched as your hands moved to remove your remaining clothes.

His mouth watered, he bit his lip, and he couldn't help but gaze at your naked body, trying not to moan just from the sight.

"Oh, God," he whispered to himself, unable to resist putting his hands on your body, rubbing your ass, and then moving close to your thighs.

"I just need you to ride me! Please, Y/N," he said, his eyes filled with vulnerability that you loved.

You didn’t hesitate at all, you didn’t want to waste any time. As his hands moved to your hips, you positioned yourself more comfortably against him, feeling his cock covered in pre-cum.

He arched his back when he felt you wrap around him, and you moaned softly as his breath caught. "That's it, sweetheart," he whispered.

His size stretched you, and it took a moment to adjust, but you began rocking your hips, causing his eyes to widen and his moans to grow louder.

"Do you like that?" you asked with a smirk, holding his chest as you increased the pace, eliciting another loud moan from him as you added your own small moans to the mix.

He was rendered speechless as you noticed his heart racing in your hand, but you continued to ride him. Unable to withstand it any longer, he was on the verge of climaxing but held back. His hands reached up to move your hair away from your face.

"Pretty girl," he whispered before releasing a soft moan. You bit your lip to stifle your own moans, feeling his cock pulsating inside you, indicating he was close.

"Me too, baby, me too," you responded, knowing exactly what he meant. Unsure of where to place his hands, he ran them over your body.

As you continued to ride him, planting kisses on his chest and leaving a few hickeys, he whimpered and moaned louder.

"I can't hold it any longer, y/n," he softly confessed, signaling his impending orgasm. You simply hummed in agreement.

His grip tightened as he climaxed inside you, reassured it was safe from pregnancy. He let out a loud moan, rolling his eyes with his mouth agape.

You continue to ride him, causing him to shake as he struggles to catch his breath. His hands tremble on your thighs as you keep riding him towards your climax.

As you felt your orgasm approaching, you surrendered to the sensation, covering his cock with a mix of mutual pleasure.

A loud moan escaped you, causing him to glance at you with a small smile before tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Just lay on top of me," he whispered, guiding you gently to relax as you slowed your racing heart. He continued to stroke your hair while your thumb grazed his chest.

Your sweaty bodies pressed against each other, yet neither of you seemed to mind. Chris shifted slightly to locate your clothes and remembered that he had parked somewhere while you both had been entangled in the backseat.

"Darling, we need to get dressed. We have to head home," he said softly before tenderly kissing your lips.

MIYAS MASTERLIST & INFO

[silverselfshippingchaos]

Hear me out 😳

........... so, hypothetically, in a hypothetical situation in which i were to say i think a.dam j.ensen was hot as shit, how would we feel?