#im thinking about him more than i'd like to sigh

[cloudcountry]

guys i just had a life changing pastry and what if

ok so you know how rollo likes eating at cafes and stuff right. what if he took you to one on your first date and once your food came and you started eating you got stuff on your face.

and he tries to wipe it off with a napkin and you're like HUH WHAT because he's so close and you didn't expect the stoic rollo to make a move like this?

but then he gets frustrated because its not working so he leans across the table and asks if he can try something in the calmest voice you've ever heard

and once you say yes he kisses the corner of your mouth and you SWEAR he's smirking a little when he pulls back because he could feel how warm your face was

[skrunksthatwunk]

found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?

[mariasont]

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 

You went back to your phone.

Hi

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[evie-sturns]

Right here-Chris Sturniolo

summary: chris is your best friend, he has been for a couple years. one night you and chris are laying on his bed talking about anything and everything, somehow the conversation leads to sex, where you tell him a confession, leading to him taking your virginity.

contains: smut, fluff, swearing, aftercare, chris talking u through it, virgin!reader.

-----------------┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐-----------——

9:43pm

chris and I have been laying on his bed together, staring at the ceiling as the conversation rapidly switches between topics.

"remember like the first time we met, how it took us a solid hour to start up a real conversation" chris laughs,

"i was working chris! i was like 16 i wasnt gonna risk my job to leave from behind the counter to talk to you" i nudge him with a grin.

"working at topgolf.." he teases back, "i mean i only knew nick from middle school, but i did serve your food and we spoke!" i say defensivley.

chris shakes his head, rubbing his eyes before he adjusts his chain which hangs around his neck.

"what was...." chris starts, thinking about what to say next. i tilt my head on the pillow to look over at him.

"your worst sex experience." chris asks casually with a stupid smile on his face,

my heart sinks slightly, truthfully im a virgin, and i'm almost 21. chris has no idea about this.

a silence fills the room, i clear my throat "well- uh"

"oh my god how bad was it" chris laughs.

i feel tears somehow prickle at the corner of my eyes, it doesn't bother me that much.

a small laugh exits my mouth, chris looks over at me "are you okay-?" chris says with a small laugh.

"yes! yes i'm good-" i say, sitting up and crossing my legs.

"chris can I tell you something" i sigh, wiping my face as a nervous smile forms.

"anything- hey you know about that time at graduation when i went the wrong way when i went up on stage to get my fuckin' paper thing." he yaps,

"oh my god and they had to guide you in the right direction" i scoff back.

"stopp" chris groans, sitting up and pushing me over onto my side, "now speak"

"this is like- the wrong time but.." i start,

"i've never done like anythingg.." i say, dragging out 'anything'

chris goes silent,

"like you've never fucked-" he says, but i cut him off "yeah."

he nods understandably, "thats okay!" chris chirps. "are you planning to loose it or not?" chris asks

"well, i've always wanted to its just like i'm worried that i wont fully trust the person who i hook up, and it'll just be a desperation thing- i don't know though." i say, opening up to him

"yeah, that makes sense." chris nods.

"but i really want to, like its always on my mind" i groan, flopping my head back down onto the pillow.

"i mean we could fuck" chris says with a shrug, i laugh it off,

he's clearly joking...?

"no like honestly think about, i'm horny 24/7, your wanting to loose your virginity, and you trust me i think?" he continues rambling with a cheeky smile painted on his face.

chris says stuff, a lot of stuff, and i'd say 90% of it is unserious

"chris... stop fucking around this is a serious topic" i scoff.

"no, like actually- deadass." chris says, slightly more nervous than earlier.

i go silent, sitting up in bed and looking down at him "yeah?" i ask quietly, chris sits up aswell "i can't tell if you're being serious chris"

he grabs my jaw, "i'm serious.." chris leans closer to me, my heart thumps aggressively as i stare at the brunette's lips, which are practically begging to be kissed.

chris's hand falls slowly from my jaw to my hand, "like 100% serious right?" i ask again, my mind now not being able to comprehend that chris could be inside me in a matter of minute.

"100%." he says,

i rip my white tank top off from over my head, chris scrambles to remove his shirt, i pause for a second as chris's eyes lay over my exposed chest.

"chris- I don't know what i'm doing this is gonna be so embarrasing for me" i start, but chris interuppts me

"shh- sh." he shushes me, grabbing my hand again, "do you want me to talk you through it?"

i nod, playing with chris's long fingers as an anxiety reaction, "can you tell me with your words what you want please?"

with a wobbling breath i start, "please talk me through it, i- uh.. i need you? please."

chris nods, "oh shit wait,yeah- if you want i'll go get nick and matt out of the house, they won't think we're doing anything 'cause they know that i don't bring girls over to fuck,- and they wouldn't think we'd do shit together"

i shake my head 'yes' rapidly, "thank you."

chris stands up off the bed, throwing on his shirt and unlocking his door, he walks out of the door, closing it behind him as i lay back in his bed,

anxiety rushes through my veins, my bare back presses against the soft plush of his mattress that i have been so used to for so many years, where chris told me all about his first hookup at 16, now hes gonna be mine on this same bed.

i hear his distant chatter with matt, "hey we need some shit from target from tomorrow, take nick with ya hes probably interested in childrens toys" he says with a laugh before matt agrees,

chris walks back into the room a minute or two later, his cheeks instantly turning maroon again as he says me laying half naked on his bed, he takes a deep breath "matt and nick are going to target in a few, you okay?" chris asks, discarding his shirt to the side of the room again.

"yeah! i'm just nervous." i laugh slightly,

"about what?" he questions, flopping down on the bed next to me,

"i just feel like it's gonna hurt- or i mean.. i don't want this to change things between us, 'ya know?" i sigh.

i hear matts van pull out of the driveway, the small pebbles crunching under his tires.

"it won't hurt." chris says, his voice serious, yet reassuring.

chris sits up off the bed, he turns around to face me. i sit up aswell, i feel chris's large hands wrap around my waist, pulling me closer to him on the edge of the bed.

"i'm going to take these off, yeah?" chris says, his fingers lingering on the waistband of my shorts.

"yeah." i smile up at him, laying back on the bed. chris pulls my sweat shorts and panties down to my ankles in one yank, his eyes widening as i feel his gaze drawn between my thighs.

"so perfect," chris says, his voice raspy.

"okay- wait." he whispers, rubbing his eyes, "can I ask, when you say you've never done anything, what's the most you've done.. sexually" he almost cringes at his words.

"um.. probably just doing stuff with myself.?" i reply, chris nods "okay good."

"okay, just try not to be too loud, the neighbours are always in their backyard" chris laughs, hovering above me, his face directly ontop of me as i lay on the edge of the bed.

my eyes widen as i feel a veiny cold hand on the inside of my thigh, "you sure?" chris asks for the 80th time,

"chris i need you, yes- please."

i close my eyes, the brunette presses a finger against my hole "just gonna stretch ya out a little bit first hm?" he says from above me before pressing his long finger deep inside of me,

"fuck." i whisper under my breath, my back arching slightly off the bed.

he begins to curl that finger inside of me, adding another finger quickly

"look at me."

he says, i squint my eyes open, soft whimpers escaping my lips. i lock eyes with him as he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of me.

a desperate gasp escapes my mouth as i feel his mouth attatch to my clit, "oh my god- fuck oh my god." i repeat under my breath.

"gonna finish already for me?" chris says with a hint of a cocky tone in his tone.

i let out a loud whine which echoes through the room as i feel my orgasm rapidly approaching "you got it, im right here." chris says into my ear.

i instantly clench around his fingers, the knot in my stomach snapping with a moan of chris's name. "there she is, let me hear you."

i flop my arms above me on the matress as chris pulls his fingers out of me, he wipes them on my thigh before starting to yank down his sweatpants, leaving him in his boxers

“tell me when your ready okay?” chris says, sitting down on the bed next to me as i lay down,

“chris”

“yeah?” he replies

“thank you, you didn’t have to do this.” i say with a small smile, my cheeks still flushed.

“no honestly i’m more than happy to do this” chris laughs, earning a nudge from my elbow to his rib.

i sit up on the bed, giving chris a certain look. he nods, standing up off the bed and pulling down his boxers.

i stare very obviously at his length, my eyes fixed on the long vein which follows the whole left side of his cock.

“you okay?” chris laughs slightly, i look up at him “yeah, no- just nervous.”

chris grabs my hand “listen, i’m going to talk you through everything, it won’t hurt, i promise.”

“okay.” i reply, “what position do you want me in?” i ask slowly letting chris’s hand go.

“just lay down on your back, wanna see your face okay?” chris says with a smile.

i lay back down, my bare back hitting the soft plush of chris’s matress. chris takes my hand again, “squeeze my hand if you need a break” he whispers.

i breathe in heavily, then out as chris positions himself between my legs.

“can you spread a little more for me sweetheart?” he asks, the pet name making me clench around nothing.

i spread my legs further, chris admires me, the position i’m in right before his eyes.

“there we are.” he says under his breath,

“i’m just going to give you the tip, and if it’s uncomfortable tell me okay?” chris says, squeezing my hand lightly as he rests his tip against my core.

“please.” i breathe out, looking up at his addictive eyes.

chris slowly pushes inside of me, a burning sensation as i stretch around him. i let out a pathetic moan. he pauses,

“you took the tip, feeling okay?” chris asks, looking down at me, his brown hair flopping on his forehead as he leans down to hear my awnser.

“feels new.. but good.” i whisper, chris nods.

he nods before pushing further inside of me, i arch my back off the bed, strings of whimpers exiting my mouth, i squeeze chris’s hand hard, he instantly stops

“chris- how much more?” i ask, overwhelmed

“you took half, should we try the other half aswell?” chris asks in a serious tone.

after a few seconds i reply “yes.”

chris places a kiss onto my lips, i kiss him back.

my eyes widen, i guess it was a good distraction because i barely notice chris pushing deeper inside of me, i let out a pleasured moan “fuck- chris”

i feel him bottom out, he has small droplets of sweat sitting on his forehead, his pale cheeks are a deep red.

chris starts to speak after about half a minute of silence, accompanied by our shared heavy breaths. “can i move?” he says, “yeah.” i reply.

he slowly starts to thrust in, and out of me. almost pulling out, but then pushing back inside of me, his pink tip pressing against my cervix lightly.

“you’re doing so well, let me hear those pretty noises.” chris says, his voice low and croaky.

i fill the room with loud moans

“look at me, look at me.” chris says, grabbing my chin which is tilted upwards from throwing my head back. he tilts my head down, locking eyes with me.

“you feel so good around me mhm?” chris groans, my eyes squinted but still staring into his.

“i’m not gonna last long chris.” i whimper out, chris nods

“that’s perfect, i’ll tell you when to finish and you will” he replies, i nod frantically.

i feel my high coming, with every thrust i clench around chris.

“ready..” he says, almost whines,

“you okay?” i ask, my breathing intensifies

“just need to cum, real bad.” he replies, his voice strained.

and with that, i finish with a scream of his name.

chris instantly pulls out, painting my chest and stomach with white streaks. “fuck y/n, oh my god, fuck-.. fuck.” chris throws his head back, stroking his length a final few times.

he falls down on the bed beside me, propping himself up on his elbows.

after a handful of seconds he sits up, pulling me onto his lap. “you okay? you did so well, took me so well.”

“i’m okay.” i laugh into chris’s chest.

“let’s get you cleaned up.” chris says, tapping my hips then carrying me into the bathroom.

he places me down on the countertop before grabbing a damp cloth.

he pats my inner thigh with the cloth, he lets out a small laugh,

“yeah?” i question

“i never woulda thought you’d be screaming my name.” he says casually.

i scoff as chris leaves the bathroom, he comes back with the clothes i was wearing earlier he starts to redress me, his concentration at an all time high.

after chris had redressed he helps me off the counter, “cmon let’s go get something to drink.” chris says, grabbing my hand and leading me out of his bedroom.

i’m met with nick and matt, leaning on the kitchen counter. my heart stops, i thought chris got them out of the house?

chris instantly drops my hand “thought you guys were at target.” he says with a embarrassed laugh.

“we got 2 minutes down the road then decided to get it another day.” nick says, eyes fixed on chris’s.

“so are you two offical?” matt asks with a smile, chris’s head snaps round to look at him “what do you mean!” he says defensively

“trust me, we heard those fucking screams” nick laughs, slapping chris’s bicep.

“no guys, i can explain i swear.” chris starts, following nick and matt close behind, as they walk into the living room.

“it wasn’t what you think-“ chris rambles, i can hear the smile on his face.

i laugh to myself, shaking my head with a scoff.

————-

[just-some-random-blogger]

The Cage Of My Rib

"Aegon?" "Mmm." "They say twins come from a split rib... do you think it is true?" "Pfft, no. If it were, I'd be short and ugly like you!"

Aegon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader x Aemond Targaryen | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, targcest, twin!reader, wife!reader, pregnancy, motherhood, post-rook's rest, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: this is a fic I wrote for my lovely luna. im going to be completely honest with you. i had a vision then i didnt... i dont know if this has a happy ending im so sorry T_T HAHAHAHAHA @vhagar-balerion-meraxes I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

His skin was scalding as he stormed into the dragon pit. His nostrils flared at the sight of the dragon about to exit and take flight. He clenches his fists, "keligon."

My mount rumbles at the sound of the command. I, at first, do not realize the command was given and pat my dragon's skin, encouraging her to continue.

"KELIGON!"

Both my dragon and I turn, seeing Aemond march towards us with a face painted in fury. He screams again, "STOP!"

I furrow my brows and hush my ride when she grows restless. She screeches at Aemond to show her displeasure, and so in turn, I have to calm her down as my he approaches. I pull on my reins and scowl at him. I quip in High Valyrian, "you dare command Rhovior while I am mounted?"

Aemond looks up at me, pulse raging in anger. He screams again at her, commanding my dragon to obey him with such severity that she forgets her own predatory inclination and submits. Rhovior then cranes her long neck to the side and looks up at me. Her violet eyes reflect my own and I rub her pinkish scales before turning back to the man.

"Get down," he commands me in High Valyrian, reaching a hand out to me.

I clench my jaw and tilt my head at him, "I do not wish to."

His nostrils flare, "you truly think it wise to fly on dragonback in the middle of a war?"

"I am not flying into war, brother."

"You are not flying anywhere," he snaps, "wife."

Rhovior was getting restless again. She begins to shake her head and shift towards Aemond. I have to calm her down, lest the one-eyed prince be left one-armed or worse. He at least has the mind to step away from her at this point, his hands coming to his side.

Aemond clenches his jaw as I calm Rhovior. I grunt when part of the saddle digs into my belly. My husband flinches, boot skidding forward on instinct. He hisses in the High Valyrian once more, "you are in no state to be flying."

I make sure my ride is completely calm before finally dismounting. Once I do, Aemond comes upon me, glaring down with a furious eye.

"I am her rider," I repeat in the same tongue, "she would not cause me harm."

"She does not need to cause you harm for harm to come to our child."

I step forward. My protruded belly barely brushes against him, "she would not harm my child."

"Our child," he corrects, "I have as much say on what happens to the babe as you do."

I sigh and close my eyes. I hear Aemond command the dragon keepers to bring Rhovior back into the pit. I rub my belly and ignore my husband, walking past him.

"Do you think you would be spared simply because you are a woman with child? Rhaenyra will spare none in King's Landing to have her way."

I remove my gloves while he follows after me. I respond by the time I feel him beside me, "as I said, I was not flying into w-"

"Flying at all is an act of war," he grabs my arm, forcing me to face him, "you are my wife."

I whip my head, pulling my arm out of his clutch, my silver hair flipping behind me.

"You carry my seed."

"Trust me, Prince Regent, I know what I carry inside me better than you."

Aemond's jaw sets. The muscles on his face feather. I can practically feel the anger radiating off him. My stomach begins to churn. I look down and sigh. I step forward and grab his bicep. I can feel his muscles are tense. I whisper, "I would not have flown far."

He does not reply.

I look up at him. His face is bound in anger. I reach for his cheek, but he pulls away and steps back before I touch him.

I gulp. I allow my hands to drop.

His silence held the violence of a storm, and his stoic expression held something searing beneath it. His voice held a false serenity as he whispered, "you'll have to kill me before you forfeit so much to a dead man walking."

I stare at him. I do not argue with his distasteful comment nor do I correct his belief that I meant to fly out to do something for the said man.

I simply walk away after he's said his piece and head for my chambers.

I change out of my riding clothes and go to the nursery. I dismiss the wet nurse and tell her I will continue breast feeding my son.

I immediately take my child onto my hip and rub his back as I make my way down the hall. Aenar sighs into my shoulder, his soft cheek pressed against my neck. I make it to the King's quarters and nod at the Kingsguard stationed outside his room as he opens the doors for me.

I stop just as I enter; the sight and the smell never gets easier to palate. I shift my boy in my arm when he begins to fuss. A mewl from across the room makes my heart twinge.

I walk towards the bed, the sound of my heels on the tiles reverberate in the otherwise silent chamber. By the time I sit down on the chair beside the bed, Aenar is restless, and so I undo the ribbons on my chest and allow my baby to feed.

I stroke my son's head, rocking him in my arms slightly, but my eyes are on the man before me and his are on mine. Aegon's lilac gaze is watery. His lips are dry as he speaks, "you shouldn't be here."

I adjust my son in my arms so his weight doesn't put so much pressure on my belly. I rub the boy's bald head, "and where should I be, my king?"

He scoffs but regrets it when he breaks into a ragged cough. I huff when it doesn't seem to stop and reach for the glass of water on his bedside table. I manage to keep a firm grip on son as I help him drink. Liquid spills from the corner of his lips and soon he shakes his head, making me pull away.

"There is no king here."

I simply wipe his skin, careful not to irritate him. Aegon watches me, or rather, he watches Aenar. I freeze when he grabs my wrist weakly before I pull away.

His voice is soft and strangled, "you misunderstand."

He releases his hold. I put the cloth down.

"I don't want you here."

We stare at each other. I am unfazed because I knew he did not mean it. I adjust Aenar in my arms. He stops suckling after this, and so I move him to my other shoulder and lace up the ties on my chest. I rub his back and gently pat him, "shall I move to the other side of the bed then?"

Aegon does not reply.

Aenar burps softly. I lean into him and kiss his head, "good boy."

His eyes water. He screws them shut, "do not insult me further-" his nostrils flare, "-and fucking leave."

My brows knit, "I've not yet helped you ea-"

"I DON'T WANT YOU HERE!" he snaps, spit flying out his mouth as he screams.

I jolt at the severity of his tone. Aemond, even with his display prior, was never one to shout at me, not even as a child. Aegon, however, always did. It did not make it any bearable. Aenar too was affected by the shout. He promptly begins to sob.

I immediately begin to rock him and shush him. When he does calm, I cradle him in my arms and sing to him. It was my favorite High Valyrian lullaby, one that our father sung to us in but a few instances or less.

Aegon's face twitches at the sound. The act causes his tender injuries to flair. Tears stream down his face.

It takes two repetitions of the song for my baby finally find peace again. By the time he does, I feel out of breath. I sit back down but do not stop rocking him. Aenar coos and I do not dare to cease my singing.

That is, until, Aegon calls my name.

Not only do I stop singing, I stop moving altogether.

His eyes are closed and his voice is shaky, "your being swells with life while mine wastes away."

"No, you get better everyda-"

"I am a dead man walking," he chuckles dryly, "I cannot even walk-"

"And did Aemond tell you this?"

His eyes slowly open. A tear drips into his mouth, "I know what I carry inside me better than he."

Aenar begins to fuss again, and so I bring him to my shoulder and pat his back.

Our silence is broken by the sound of my brother and I saying each other's names at once. I pull my chair close to him. He slowly shakes his head in disagreement, screwing his eyes shut.

"I am here," I tell him.

He chuckles, "I pray you were not."

"I will always be here, Aegon. Your woes are mine and my joy is yours."

He slowly opens his eyes. He sniffles and mumbles, "you are not my wife."

"I am your twin-"

"I am glad of it," he reaches out a hand. I perk and lean in, knowing exactly what he wanted instinctively. I maneuver Aenar until he was laid back in my arms. Aegon's curled hand comes to my son's leg. His breathing is heavy, "he would have been Jaehaerys."

I clench my jaw and place my hand atop his.

He huffs slowly through his mouth, "I cannot feel you anymore."

I rub his burnt hand, "perhaps not in flesh, but always in heart."

Aegon slowly pulls his hand away.

"I wanted to pick you flowers, but Aemond did not let me."

"I would not have either if I were him."

"But you are not."

"I wish sometimes I was," he looks away, "how content I would have been to be born the second son... to have you."

"You have me."

He chuckles, mumbling under his breath, "do not tell him that. My injuries are suffice."

I cradle Aenar as he snuggles into my breast.

"Do you remember what you asked me when we were children?"

I nod, immediately knowing what he meant, "if twins are split from the rib?"

He hums, "if we were, I am glad that you are rid of me."

"I am glad we are not joined at the rib, but I do not wish to be rid of you."

He mumbles my name. No one but himself hears.

I adjust my baby's collar, "I should put him down. I will return before your supper is served."

He does not reply. I give him one last look before heading back.

I enter the nursery. I stop in my tracks when I see the figure looming over the cot. Aemond turns over his shoulder. I blink at the sight of his distraught expression before walking over to him.

I stop beside him, debating where I should place my son. I decide to hand him to Aemond, who graciously takes him into his arms. Aenar mewls before settling against him. A line forms between Aemond's brows as he gazes at the boy. He mutters, "how is he?"

His words hold double meaning and yet I could feel like it was a trick, to see if I would talk about Aegon.

I step closer, gazing at the infant who was blissfully unware of all that was around him. I stroke his cheek with my finger, "he is tired," I pull away, "not unlike his father."

Aemond turns to me as I rub my belly. He clenches his jaw but says nothing.

I cautiously reach out for his cheek. He does not pull away from me this time, "I will return to join you for supper."

I wait for him to respond. I walk out when he does not. He watches as the door close. He turns away after the click.

"Keligon, muña," Aemond mutters as though it was his son speaking. He then shushes him, "muña kessa daor henujagon īlva..."

Mother will not leave us.

"... my son."

[moonstruckme]

im literally in lovee with your writing of sirius black id love love love more of him x reader pleasee [my favourite is friends to lovers or just being super domestic but tbh I'd read anything u write with him in lmaoo]

Thank you for requesting lovely! It worked out that I'd just written this when I got your ask, so I hope it fits what you're wanting!

cw: reader has hair long enough to tie back

Sirius Black x whimsical!reader ♡ 833 words

Sirius finds you out behind Remus’ house, sitting in the grass and, by all appearances, playing with mud. 

“Hey there,” he says, “did you manage to find the bathroom?” 

You have a tendency to wander off. Sometimes it’s intentional, sometimes you get lost, and Sirius can never tell which is happening at any given time. As much as he’d like to tie a string between you so you’re never very far, he’s learned to let you go where you will; you always end up where you want to be anyways. 

“You were talking about football,” you say by way of answer, the slightest hint of sheepishness in your sweet voice. “I thought you wouldn’t mind if I went off for a bit.” 

Sirius hums and lowers himself onto the grass beside you, stretching his legs out. The sun is warm and welcome on his face, just enough breeze to keep it from getting too hot. 

It’s a beautiful day, you’d noted upon waking up this morning, already opening the windows in his bedroom. 

Looks like it, Sirius said from bed. He smiled wryly. It’ll probably be the last decent one we have all year.

You’d frowned. That’s not a very nice way to manifest the weather. 

While Sirius is upturned, you’re bent over, messing with something in your hands and dipping your fingers occasionally into a pail of water. 

“What’ve you got there, pretty girl?” 

“A mug,” you say simply. You thumb concentratedly at the slimy thing in your hands, lips pursing. “Or, a soon-to-be-mug.” 

“And you’re making it out of…mud?” 

“No,” you laugh, looking up at your boyfriend in that fond, indulgent way you have. Like he can be so silly sometimes. “Remember how Remus said there was clay by the stream back that way? I’m using some of that.” 

“Ah.” Sirius tilts his head, studying the misshapen lump in your hands. “I see. And this is going to be a drinking mug?” 

You hum in affirmation, and he leaves it at that. He’s not terribly sure whatever you end up with will be able to hold water, but he knows better than to try and dissuade you once you’ve set your mind to something. Maybe he can sign the both of you up for a pottery class sometime. 

A piece of hair falls from behind your ear, and you blow at it, trying to keep it out of your face with your hands occupied.

“Here,” Sirius offers. He takes an elastic off his wrist, gathering the hair away from your face and tying it back loosely the way you like it. 

You gift him a sideways smile in return. A bit of dried clay on your cheek cracks with the movement. Evidently, this isn’t the first time you’ve had to push your hair back. “Thank you.” 

“Baby,” he says, voice laden with fondness. He steadies your face with one hand, swiping at the clay with the other. “You’ve got it all over you.” 

It’s true. It covers your hands up past your wrists, and several places on your legs have pale gray tracks where you’ve wiped your fingers off on them. 

“It’s a messy business,” you say matter-of-factly, “but it dries sort of pretty, I think. Do you want some?” 

He cocks an eyebrow. “How do you mean?” 

You set your soon-to-be-mug down gingerly, extending a hand to him. “Give me your arm.” 

Sirius suppresses a sigh. He didn’t really plan on getting dirty today, but he’s hardly in the habit of denying you anything you ask for. He sets his forearm in your hand. 

You dip a finger into the wettest part of your clay, setting it to the skin above his wrist. Your touch is cool and slick on his sun-warmed skin. You draw a little star like you’re fingerpainting, the clay a funny contrast to the dark tattoos surrounding it. 

You look so pleased with your work that Sirius can’t help himself. He leans forward, giving you a drawn-out, amorous kiss. 

“Thank you,” he says in his most saccharine voice. 

Your lashes flutter prettily as you blink, a rare shy smile taking you. “You’re welcome.” 

Sirius dips two fingers into your pail of water, using them to wipe the remaining clay off your cheek more thoroughly. When he’s done, he spots another smudge on your shoulder, inexplicable. He tsks. “When you’re done with your mug, we might have to ask Remus if you can use his shower, lovely girl. You really do have it all over you.” 

“Oh, there’s no need to trouble him,” you say airily. “The stream’s not very far, and it’s flowing rather quickly with all the rain we’ve been having.” 

He blinks. “Did you bring your swimsuit?”

You look at him bemusedly. “No. Why?” 

Sirius bends his head, letting his hair fall like a curtain to conceal his smile as he kisses the clean part of your shoulder. “I think it’d be better if you used Remus’ shower, sweetheart. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

[dietcokegirly12]

Hey!

Im sorry to disturb you, but can you do a horny PM (18) Dazai, like even though he’s crule and cold he still has a soft spot for reader.

HIHIHI OMG i’m so sorry this has taken soso long i’ve been busy with kinktober stuff, but i hope you like thiss, it was fun to write!!

“PM Dazai”

featuring pm dazai osamu 18 ૮₍⇀‸↼‶₎ა

─── /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿⌖☠︎︎ ─── /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿⌖☠︎︎ ─── /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿

(found on pinterest :)

─── /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿⌖☠︎︎ ─── /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿⌖☠︎︎ ─── /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿

tags: slight mention of murder, violence, torture, blowjob, lots of cum ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝), boot humping, degrading, daddy kink, unprotected sex, etc etc

word count: 1.8k

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ┈⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺┈ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅┈⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺┈ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅┈⁺

Osamu Dazai, Port Mafia executive at eighteen, and one of the coldest men to ever exist, stood in front of a cowering, mangled heap of a human, the air heavy with the metallic tang of blood and sweat.

They were in the infamous Port Mafia torture chamber, known for its innumerable amount of uses over the years to make its victims talk, whether it be for enemy information, or what they knew about the Mafia's plans.

Today was no different, as the heavily mutilated man that was chained and spread for Dazai to play with, let out loud sobs that wracked his beaten body.

"Please, sir! Have mercy!"

Dazai scoffed, examining a glinting dagger before pressing it to the man's neck. "Mercy? You knew what you were doing when you came here to steal information. So tell me, what exactly was it that you were looking for?"

His sobs grow louder, choking and dry-heaving pathetically as Dazai presses harder on the dagger, enough to draw out a steady stream of scarlett blood, the thick scent cloying the stale air.

"We were looking for classified information! Just.. please no more!"

Dazai cocks his head at that, before putting down the weapon he had been brandishing across his neck, the man exhaling with relief, thinking he was getting off the hook.

But his respite is short-lived as Dazai trades the dagger for a loaded gun, cocking and reloading it to point it at him directly.

"You know, you should consider yourself lucky. I'm going to have to cut our session short, because I have places I'd rather be than to waste any more time on useless scum like you."

Bang!

Not sparing a second glance back, Dazai rinses his hands of the blood staining them in the small, rusty sink before shouldering his long, black overcoat on again, and leaving the room, the door closing with a soft click.

His footsteps echo down the quiet of the Mafia's hallway, shadows covering every corner as the darkness of the night outside peeks in.

He looks down at his watch. Shit. He's late.

Increasing his pace, he makes it out of the Mafia building, and a couple blocks down to a small apartment building. You.

Unlocking the door, he comes inside, and begins to shrug off his coat, noticing you, prettily laid out for him on the couch.

"You're late, 'samu," you whine, watching as he carefully removes the bandage covering his eye, before coming over to his favorite armchair and sinking down into it with a sigh.

"I know sweetie. Had to work long hours today."

You come closer, to take your place between his spread legs, nuzzling your way between them to gaze up at him adoringly.

He widens them further for you, his head falling back as he breathes deeply, exhausted from a long day of dirty work.

You inch yourself closer, tugging the black tie hanging around his neck to loosen it, before tossing it to the side. Your hands come to his thighs as you knead them softly, whispering a soft, "Let me help you relax," to which he nods, eyes closing with a soft exhale as your hands begin to slide up further, exploring him eagerly.

Expertly, your nimble fingers work and rub over aching muscles, trying to give him any form of relief you can, for his day's stress, hands venturing dangerously close to the apex of his thighs, but never quite reaching it.

And as your touches grow more and more bold, but always retracting before you can give him what he truly wants, he starts to get impatient.

"Darling..." His voice holds a bit of warning as his cock fills with life, beginning to strain against his black trousers, heavier and heavier, and just begging for any amount of attention you're willing to give. "Don't tease."

It fills you with pride then, the control you held over one of the deadliest mafia executives, the fact he so clearly needed you, and your touch.

"Be good for daddy, he just had a hard day at work." He spreads his thighs further apart as his hips lift slightly, the tent in his pants impossibly large now.

Your cheeks flush at his words, finally giving in and burying your face between his legs, pressing your face right against the bulge in his pants, making him practically sigh with relief as he melts into your touch, cock twitching erratically.

You nuzzle against him, tongue flicking out to trace over the outline of his cock through his pants, leaving a wet trail along him, his breathing becoming heavier as he tries to arch his hips further into you.

You quickly unzip his pants to reveal his long, throbbing cock, slightly curved, and leaking pre-cum, velvety soft to the touch.

You finally take him into your hand, pumping gently and making his head fall back, hips thrusting into your hand eagerly.

You shift into a more comfortable position, bending to suck on his tip gently, enough to taste the salty-sweet of him on your tongue.

He moans softly, large hands coming to tangle into your hair and push you down, a small choked sputter leaving you.

"That's it... be a good girl, and take every inch for daddy."

Encouraged by his praise, you allow him to push your head down further, until your nose is bumping his pelvis, small gags and whines leaving you as drool seeps out of your mouth. He pauses, tilting his head back with a moan as he just holds you there, for what feels like minutes, every muscle in your jaw strained and jumping with tears streaming down your face from his sheer length.

But you can't deny how unbelievably turned on you were, arousal seeping into the lace of your panties and soaking through to glide down your thighs, cunt throbbing as he finally lets you go with a small pop!

But your reprieve doesn't last long as he immediately begins to fuck your mouth at a steady pace, your jaw slack and sore as his tip bruises the back of your throat, choked sobs spilling out of you.

You shift, trying to press your thighs together for any form of friction to relieve the throbbing, and Dazai instantly takes notice, nosing the tip of his boot between your legs to rub it gently over your needy pussy.

"Fuck... is this turning you on, darling? Sucking my cock like the good little girl you are?"

You whimper in reply, rutting against his foot desperately as you continue to suck him deeper, hollowing your cheeks out and bobbing your head with renewed vigor.

He grunts, hips thrusting sloppily as he gets closer, the squelching of your cunt dragging along his boot almost obscene in the quietness of the room.

"You like when I use you like this, hm?"

You nod in agreement, movements becoming even faster and more erratic as he moans, fingers weaving tighter through your mussed hair.

Dazai's stomach is beginning to scrunch into tight knots, contracting and shuddering, as he barely holds back from the tips of white-hot pleasure clawing into him.

Desperate to push him over, you trace the underside of his cock head gently, running your tongue all around the outline of him, and as you brush a particularly sensitive vein, something almost resembling a whine leaves the throat of the cold executive, before he's forcing substantial ropes of warm, salty cum down your throat, hips shallowly thrusting in and out.

Pulling yourself up, you're unable to wait any longer as you clamber over his lap, clumsily pressing your mouth to his, his hands coming to pull you closer, closer, until you're straddling him, sopping cunt pressed against his already hardening cock.

You're only wearing one of Dazai's baggy shirts, so all you have to do is lift it up before you're almost bare in front of him, your perky breasts in his face.

He groans at the lewd display, instantly surging forward to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking firmly as you arch upward at the feeling, moaning.

He pushes you back onto the couch, and quickly tugs off your panties in one harsh motion, revealing you fully, his hands roaming and exploring as if this is his first time seeing you, rough yet eager in his quest for more of your warm skin.

He quickly lines up his long cock to your entrance, unable to wait another second, as he pushes into you, wedging himself in inch by inch.

You mewl, gripping onto his shirt tightly as he stretches you out impossibly on his length, the tip prodding your cervix just barely.

"My baby has such a pretty, tight pussy f'me, doesn't she?" He groans, eyes squeezing shut as he finally manages to bury himself all the way into you, your soft moans being your only response aside from your squirms of pleasure.

He immediately begins a brutal pace, holding you down firmly as his hips piston in and out ruthlessly, showing his rougher side as he pants above you, sweat covering his forehead in a glistening sheen.

You whimper, cunt gripping tightly around him as you feel him prodding all the way to your stomach, his hands coming to grip roughly onto your breasts, squeezing slightly.

As he shows no sign of slowing, only going rougher, your whole body moving with the force of his thrusts, you feel your stomach coiling tighter and tighter, the warmth of your release fast-approaching.

"S-samu.." you cry out, burying your face into his neck and breathing him in deeply as you feel yourself clamping tighter around him.

" 'S okay baby, you can come. Wanna feel you gush around my cock. Can you do that for me? Can you come all over daddy's cock?"

As he speaks, you can't hold back anymore, stomach finally snapping as your vision turns white, your thighs clamping tightly around him as wave after wave of your pleasure crashes through you, warmth soaking him.

He follows close behind, moaning softly as his grip on you tightens, cock shooting spurts of cum into your velvety walls, so much of it that it seems to never end, filling up your abused cunt so completely that it drips onto the couch under you, staining it with white.

As you both pant, coming down from your highs, he nuzzles into your cheek softly. "Did so good for me, doll." He plants a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, making a warm blush creep across your cheeks at the praise, arms wrapped tightly around him.

Cheekily, his hands come to cup your breasts, and you feel him smile against you, his still hard cock beginning to glide up and down against your stomach. "But I'm still horny."

[mit0bee]

Twisted Wonderland boys with an S/O who's afraid of bugs (me too)

Did I literally just post 5 minutes ago? yes. am i posting again? yes. Stuff you should read: Bulleted HC's because i dont feel like writing an essay like i did with floyds tent hc, no beta we die like men, mention of multiple types of bugs Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Malleus Draconia, Trey Clover, Jamil Viper, Vil Schoenheit, Epel Felmier, Sebek Zigvolt, Floyd Leech

(can be read as platonic but i did write it with a romantic relationship in mind)

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Leona literally came running into the room thinking you had died or smthn, but no. you were screaming, standing on his bed....all over a small cockroach.

Bro actually sighed. like, a super big sigh, one that youd only get from a dissapointed mother while he stomped on the bug.

"Seriously, Herbivore? You took care of multiple overblots, but a single cockroach gets you all worked up?"

hes grinning so hard. youd want to punch him with how hard hes grinning.

all hes thinking is about the amount he can tease you about this

but, yes. he does get rid of the bug.

unless he was sleeping. then he forces asks ruggie to do it nicely.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

implodes the bug.

im not kidding.

he literally goes full on oceangate on that bug and implodes it

you didnt even have time to properly freak out before the bug was wiped off the face of the earth

"tsunotarou what was that sound?"

"nothing light of my life" *hiding bug corpse*

"are you sure bc i thought i saw a bug"

"nope. no bugs here? should we buy some bug repellant to ease your mind?"

".....no its okay."

you knew he somehow killed the bug.

and it only made you love him even more than you already do.

TREY CLOVER

catches the bug for you and lets it outside.

unlike the first two, he tries his best not to kill the bug.

he pulls the "how would you feel if i stomp on you and kill you?"

"if you killed me while i was a bug i'd thank you"

"you'd be dead, [name]."

"....id thank you from the grave."

he just sighs and shakes his head

probably convinces riddle to let him put anti-bug measures around heartslaybul for you (it didnt take much convincing riddle hates bugs too)

JAMIL VIPER

screams with you

probably set ramshackle on fire more than once while visiting you

you both have to call kalim or adeuce to come exterminate the single cockroach on the ground

again, that one tik tok sound where its like

"YOU KILL THE BUG, YOURE THE MAN!"

"SINCE WHEN."

thats a daily interaction between the two of you

if it happened at scarabia, he'd stay at ramshackle for the next month

literally would abandon kalim (or if he really cant be trusted he'd just bring kalim with him to make sure he didn't cause any problems)

VIL SCHOENHIET

screams with you x2

isn't as dramatic as jamil, but he definitely freaks out about it too.

about the bugs? no. about the bug bites.

again, youd have to call someone to save the both of you so you dont pass tf out and die while he gets eaten alive by a fruit fly

wym fruit flies dont bite? you cant be too cautious.

somehow always has bug repellant with him in the warm seasons

hes prepared and will NOT get any bug bites

EPEL FELMIER

zero reaction, or has a positive one.

"what in tarnation do you mean you hate bugs?! they help with fertilizer blah blah blah blah blah blah (i dont know farming stuff)!"

you have to CONVINCE him to get rid of the bugs, but he'll eventually cave and do it just for you

if you ask him to put up anti-insect measures he'd look at you like youre crazy

"[name]. bugs are actually really good for our ecosystem. back at home we always had to take care of the bugs, or else our crops would die."

"shut up. please. ily, but i cant deal with these bugs."

"okay okay okay fine"

will reluctantly set them up

overall a 4/10 for bug measures he will do it just not unless you beg

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

yells.

not in fear, but in anger because how DARE such a miniscule thing try to terrify the people he cares about?!

doesnt explode it like malleus

but strikes it with lightning.

yk his dorm card groovy? thats what hes doing to a little centipede.

expects you to praise him for protecting you

sure, its a given that he would, but he would very much so appreciate your thanks, and maybe a head pat or smthn

give him one.

now.

FLOYD LEECH

like trey, he lets the bug free

sometimes.

other times he kills it and chases you with the corpse

or keeps it alive and chases you with the living bug

if you REALLYYYYYYYYYY dont like bugs, like straight up sobbing, freaking out, then he wont but otherwise? have fun bro

someone has to seperate you two when you see a bug, because he will do something

sometimes if he's feeling generous he wont do anything and you'll be like "tf? what did you do to be so nice?"

"cant i just be generous towards my shrimpy?"

"no."

".....yeah i almost grilled grim thinking he was food."

"you WHAT."

all of this because of a simple bug

oh to be young and in love ----------------------- m.list @mit0ee 's work, please do not steal!

[zweiginator]

Patrick flirting with long distance reader over texts, slowly getting into we shouldnt be doing this territory but patricks like "im not doing anything wdym" and hes just saying the filthiest shit because he knows shes into it, he just loves knowing that shes sopping wet desperately needing to grind on something

And when they eventually move on to phonecalls and theyre both pretending like shes not touching herself and cumming over the phone...😵‍💫

patrick calling you late at night, his phone tucked under his ear, resting against his shoulder as he palms himself. his voice is low and he’s almost mumbling to you; it feels so intimate. and he starts by just asking about your day and how things are going. you tell him and ask him how he is.

“wish i was there with you.”

“patrick—“ you almost cut him off. “we shouldn’t be—“

“be what?” he asks. “we’re not doing anything.”

but you can hear the soft moans coming from his lips, the unbuckling of his belt. a rustle of his boxers as he tugs them down his legs.

you find yourself wondering what his cock looks like. you bet it's big, with dark hair at the base. you bet he twitches when he's hard, and by the sound of his voice, you know he groans more so than he moans.

you're curious, and your face is growing hot and you just think you should stop this before it goes too far.

"what are you wearing?"

you sigh. Patrick knows what he's doing. and he knows you have a weakness for him.

"a tank top."

"what about on the bottom?"

you sigh, spreading your legs. you don't even realize it's happening. "just my panties."

Patrick draws in a breath. "fuck." you hear a sound, slick spit pooling on the tip of his cock. Patrick rubs it in.

"what about you?" you return the question.

"nothing."

your face heats. "oh."

Patrick sighs and you hear him stroking himself. you close your eyes and imagine it. the slow pass of his hand from the base of him all the way to the tip. back down again, he plays with his balls. you wonder how his abs look, contracting as he comes closer to finishing.

and then your hand snakes down your front, your lip pulled between your teeth.

and Patrick is becoming desperate. you're so quiet and reserved and teetering over the line of disloyalty. he's horny and he wants you. he needs you to stop pretending like your boyfriend matters at all.

"I'm so fucking hard."

his vulgarity almost makes you gasp. his voice shifts like he needs you to feed into this--because he does.

"I'd do anything for that fucking pussy." his hand starts moving faster as he spits again on his cock. "anything."

you mewl and rub slow circles over your clit. it's not so bad if you don't take your underwear off, right? you should answer him back; it's rude to be so quiet.

"anything?"

Patrick is quick to respond. "to touch it, kiss it, fuck it--any. thing."

a moan rips from your throat as you shove your hand under the waistband of your panties. you rub your clit furiously, your toes curling.

"Patrick--"

his thumb rubs over his sensitive tip; he's almost fucking his fist now.

"yeah? touch that pretty little pussy for me."

you whimper and they compliment the low groans from Patrick. you've both put each other on speaker now, using both hands to pretend the other is there.

[fallow-hollow]

haiii :D anon who requested courting rituals with kabru here !! i meant to imply somewhere like southeast asia , ( although i could totally see kabru being from an area near the himalayas or something , like nepal , since he shares a name with one of the mountains ) but i intentionally tried to specify it reallyy vague so anyone could relate ! (๑>◡<๑)

but to be fair , i dont really think dungeon meshi really mentions the southeast much or even at all ?? (｀_´)ゞother than the mention of toshiro being from the eastern archipelago , so i'd imagine reader would be from one of the various scattered islands there towards the south ? :0

( also if you need an example , some traditional courting where i'm from is something like meeting the parents and asking for permission to pursue , handwritten letters , meaningful conversations , various gifts like flowers , and serenading ! plus just genuine respect and a willingness to wait ^_^ even though im pretty sure kabru would get a bit impatient sometimes ehehe )

i know it sounds like something pretty simple but even the little things can go a long way ٩(^‿^)۶ !!

suitor

…ft! kabru x male! reader

…tags! courting, mentions of marriage, meeting reader’s family, reader is from an unspecified place outside the island, dancing, mentions of having kids

…word count! 2025

…notes! tried to make these imagines broad but not extremely so, and some of these courting gestures do have a little kabru flare to them because he’s like that. feedback is greatly appreciated, because i want to make sure my writing is accurate to each request!

Kabru isn’t someone I’d see dating casually. Sure, he frequently uses his charm to sway people’s opinions and get them on his side, but I don’t think he’s really been in a proper relationship before at all. So if Kabru’s pursuing you, it’s for keeps.

Family is a really important thing in courting/marriage culture all around the world, so trust and believe that one of the first things he does is try to get on good terms with your family members.

Don’t underestimate the man, he will somehow deduce the mailing addresses of your immediate and extended family and immediately started getting in contact, saying he was a friend of yours and telling them about the time spent with you. Pretty quickly after that, your family starts sending you letters telling you that you should’ve told them about that lovely young gentleman you’d met sooner.

“Kabru?”

Arms crossed, you did your best to remain steadfast even as your companion looked at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile.

“Yes?” His response was laced with false innocence, but you knew he knew. He just got a kick out of hearing you say it yourself.

With a sigh, you would slump your shoulders and ask, “how did you find out the mailing address of several of my family members?”

“Oh, that was just a coincidence,” the man lied. “Remember when one of your packages got misdelivered to the tavern? The return address happened to stick in my memory, and I got curious to learn more about your family. After all, they contact you quite a bit, and I was curious about your relationship.”

Despite your lack of a headache, you rubbed your temples with your index and middle fingers to express your exasperation with the man. Kabru was great, he really was, but sometimes he confused you greatly….

“You could’ve just asked, you know that?”

The close-eyed smile he gave you in return let you know that you probably hadn’t gotten through to him much.

“I just thought it would be a nice surprise, don’t you agree?”

He might not express it much outwardly, but deep down, Kabru is really worried about being good enough to obtain the blessing to pursue you. That’s why he tries to cover as many bases as possible to be the best possible suitor for you.

When he does get to meet your family in person, he does as much preparation as humanly possible to make it all go perfectly. He studies up on local politics, sports, and cuisine in order to be able to make good conversation with your family.

I think Kabru also rather likes kids, so he’s extremely good with any younger family members you may have, which is likely to score points with your parents and other adults in the family. Kabru loves hearing the funny things kids say and seeing what sort of things their vibrant minds come up with, so he’d do things like play pretend with them. He’s also pretty physically fit, so he could play a sport or outdoor game with them too.

Even if he appears perfectly calm on the inside, he was absolutely scared shitless when he asked your family for permission to pursue you. He would assure them that he’s very much prepared to be with you in the long term, and even came prepared with things like savings for marriage or even a dowry if that’s something that is typical in your region.

Overall, Kabru is a polite, poised, and extremely well educated young man, so he’s someone that pretty much any parent would want as a son-in-law. Hearing their words of approval was like lifting the weight of an entire city off his shoulders.

“I was so worried,” your partner would admit after the fact. Completely unable to wrap your head around such a thing, you said the first thing that came to your mind.

“How could you be? You’re perfect, Kabru. If anything, I was worried you’d have something better to do than settle down with me.”

Those piercing blue eyes bored into your skull, looking at you as if you were the most insane man in the world for having said such a thing.

“How could that be when you’re perfect too?”

The question left you in such a shocked and flustered state that you hardly noticed him move into you felt both his hands holding one of your own, thumbs resting almost reverently on top of your ring finger.

“It’s almost embarrassing now to admit that at one point in time, I didn’t see a future for myself. I guess that was because I hadn’t seen you yet?”

A ‘pfft’ sound escaped your mouth almost instantly. “Oh, no need to use your smooth lines on me.”

Both thumbs pressed down on your finger ever so slightly, in the place where perhaps a ring might go.

“I mean it, I really do.”

Whether it be providing for you or taking care of a home, Kabru does his best to learn anything he needs to no one order to be a good partner. The man actually isn’t very good at taking care of himself, so him learning housework and cooking for your sake really goes to show just how devoted he is.

In fact, on one of your dates, he surprises you by presenting you with a dish he cooked himself — one from your homeland. Even if it’s not perfect, you can tell he put so much love into it.

“The arrangement of it is kind of messy, I know….” Seeing Kabru of all people acting sheepish was certainly a rare sight. As strange as it was, thinking about the implications of such a thing made you feel all warm inside. He really cared for you that much, huh……

“It’s not the appearance of it that matters, it’s the taste.” You were quick to reassure him, smiling as you took the necessary utensils in one hand. “Besides, knowing that you tried so hard for me is more than enough. I mean, I hardly ever see you cook for yourself.”

There was no way Kabru could deny your statement, so he could only nod and look to the side. Instead of directly addressing your correct assessment of his skills, he pivoted into an adjacent topic. “Cooking has always been a gesture people perform for the people they care about. All over the world, it’s something that connects families and couples… it’s only natural I should try it, regardless of my skill level.”

Your partner’s explanations of his acts of service, despite sounding like they came right out of some textbook, never failed to charm you. At its core, it was yet another reminder of how hard Kabru worked to understand how to be a good partner for you.

“It means a lot to me,” you reassured him, lifting the food to your lips, not quite eating it yet. Kabru did his best to keep his expression stone still to hide his anticipation as you inhaled the scent of the dish, making a small humming noise in reaction that he couldn’t help but overthink on the inside. Was it good? Bad? Did he not use enough spices? Too many spices? He knew he should have triple checked the recipe…

While the tallman was overthinking, you readily accepted the labor of love into your mouth, deliberating on its texture and flavor as you chewed. A sharp exhale escaped you immediately after swallowing, after which you would chirp with delight,

“It’s really nice!”

Kabru’s shoulders relaxed for the first time in the date. Mission accomplished.

I imagine Kabru keeps a journal not only about daily events, but also about people, so sometimes as a gift you might get one of the pages of his journal that has an entry about you. Sometimes the page may also contain little doodles or sketches of you, many of which were when he was admiring you without you noticing.

Kabru’s got a pretty nice singing voice, actually, and he seems to speak multiple languages, so he may try learning songs in your language to sing to you. It’s as smooth and romantic as you’d imagine, but if you start singing along with him, you can see him start to melt the second he hears your voice. You really are his weakness.

Another thing — dancing! Kabru has likely had ballroom dance lessons, but other types of dance are ones he’s more unfamiliar with. If you ever know a regional dance you want to teach him, he’ll be happy to learn, albeit super embarrassed at his own clumsiness. Being able to romance you with honeyed words and picture perfect gestures is something he prides himself on, but you reassure him that he’s just as charming even now.

A chorus of ‘sorry’s followed almost in time with the rhythm of your own feet. The man responsible for said chorus, however, didn’t seem to have much rhythm of his own yet, and was feeling rather bashful as a result.

“It’s rare that I get to see you clumsy, Kabru.” There was a teasing lilt in your voice that the other man immediately read into, despite his best judgment. Logically, he knew that you would never say something intentionally cruel to or about him, but when he was always so eager to have your favor, it was hard not to worry.

Another apology escaped his lips, after which one of your hands left its assigned position to rest under his chin. The movement of the rest of your body stilled, focusing only on getting the one you loved so dearly to face you. Blue irises were met with not a trace of malice, only the truest of endearment.

“It’s fine, Kabru.” The affection in your voice paired with how insistently you pitched these words to him gave him the strength to smile and nod in understanding, his own paranoid be damned. Resolving his habitual apologizing sated you, though you were certainly not done loving on the man that you called yours.

“Honestly it’s nice to be able to teach you things firsthand. You spend a lot of time reading about things, probably to surprise me, which is great, don’t get me wrong — but I like this.”

The little head tilt you did without thinking drove him wild on the inside, but he did his best not to show it. It would be so easy to kiss you like this.

“I like being able to feel like I can teach you something, even when you know as much as you do.”

Considering it made you this happy, Kabru might start asking you to teach him things a lot more often. For once, the thought of putting the situation in someone else’s hands made him feel warm inside instead of uneasy.

“Yeah, I like it too.”

Fashion may not be one of Kabru’s biggest interests, but the sight of you in any culture or region-specific clothing that you like always has him in awe of just how dashing you look.

This goes double if it’s your wedding and you’re wearing a traditional outfit, maybe even something passed down in the family. You might as well just kill the man then and there, really.

Speaking of marriage and family, I think Kabru would actually really like adopting a kid some time in the future, as long as everything is stable and such. Kabru himself was adopted, so the idea of becoming a home for a child who may have lost the home they had before is a concept rather close to his own heart.

Future used to be something Kabru fought desperately to create for all of humanity while never, ever considering his own place in it. So much changed after meeting you — he could actually see himself having a future now. Being an important character in a story instead of just the person telling it to somebody else.

More than anything, you saved him. He doesn’t tell this to anybody other than you, but as you lay together at night, he insists he wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

[sebscore]

can we have more of leclerc!sister x ollie and the guys in her life reactions??? (idk im talking abt maybe some of the drivers and obs the brothers)

DO NOT POKE A BEAR UNTIL THEIR CLAWS COME OUT

pairings: ollie bearman x leclerc!reader / arthur leclerc x sister!reader / lorenzo leclerc x sister!reader / joris trouche x leclerc!reader / charles leclerc x sister!reader

warnings: swearing. car crash (but no one is hurt). an angry ollie. overall angst.

author's note: this came to me after finding a vid of ollie swearing on radio, cause arthur squeezed him on track. THIS IS SET IN AN IMAGINARY GRAND PRIX !!

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''I don't think that's such a good idea, Y/N.'' Lorenzo muttered, glancing at her through his rear-view mirror.

His sister pouted, despite having expected his answer. ''It's just a one time thing, though! We haven't seen each other in so long and after the race, we won't see each other for like another week. I'm sure Thur will understand.'' She pleaded her case.

Explaining to her two oldest brothers that she wanted to stand in the Prema garage instead of the DAMS garage for the upcoming Grand Prix, wasn't something she had been looking forward to.

''I don't mind you going there, but I think Thur is going to be hurt by it.'' Charles gave his opinion, turning in his seat so he could properly look her in the eyes.

Y/N sighed, feeling conflicted. She knew she didn't necessarily need her family's approval to support Ollie from his team hospitality, but she still wanted it- perhaps to not feel as if she was ''betraying'' Arthur.

''Just talk to Thur, chérie. He's the only one that really matters.'' The eldest advised her.

The young girl nodded to his words. ''Yeah, I'll do that.'' She agreed, understanding that it was important to take Arthur's feelings into consideration.

Charles noticed his baby sister's doubtful expression. ''Hey, if you just explain it to him, he'll understand. Don't worry about it, petite.''

''Absolutely not. That's not happening.'' Arthur shook his head, standing up from the couch and moving to the kitchen.

Y/N followed him there. ''But Thur-''

''No,'' he abruptly turned around, his stern eyes focused on her, ''that's like saying you want me to lose. Ollie's my mate, but no, absolutely not.'' Arthur grabbed a glass from the cupboard.

''It's only for the feature race! I barely see him and I'd just like to be there when he's done. You literally see him more than me.'' She frowned, frustration present in her voice as she watched him grab the soda bottle from the fridge- was he even listening to her?

Arthur sighed loudly, letting his sister's words process in his brain. ''Only the feature race? Not the qualifying or the sprint? You'll only be there on Sunday?''

She quickly nodded her head. ''Yes, only Sunday. The rest of the weekend, I'll be with you.'' Y/N confirmed.

Her brother filled his glass, tilting his head as he thought of an answer. ''Hmmmm…'' He trailed, swirling his drink before his lips, staring at her through squinted eyes.

''Okay.''

Y/N's eyes widened. ''Really? You're okay with it?''

He nodded, a smile slowly appearing on his face. ''Yeah, but if I don't do well on Sunday, I will blame it on you.'' The smile turned into a teasing smirk, pointing his finger at her.

The youngest rolled her eyes, but went in for a hug. ''Thank you, Tutur.'' Arthur put his arm around her, his other one still holding onto his glass.

''Don't make me regret it, eh?'' He raised his left eyebrow.

She shook her head. ''I won't, thank you so much.'' Y/N pulled him closer, practically squeezing her older brother from excitement.

''Okay, that's enough love for today.''

''It's nice to see you before I get in the car.'' Ollie gushed. The couple stood a few metres away from his team and machinery, taking a moment for themselves before the race started.

Y/N smiled at her boyfriend. ''I know, I don't usually see you like this.'' He was nestled in his full racing gear, only his eyes visible through the visor of his helmet.

''You like the view?'' He wiggled his eyebrows, a teasing grin on his face.

The young girl pretended to think. ''I guess so.'' She dragged out her words, trying to sound not entirely convinced.

Ollie lightly tapped her arm. ''Hey! I know you can only see my eyes right now, but still.'' He defended himself, crossing his arms.

''No, no. I really like the view.'' Y/N gave in, her mischievous smirk turning into a genuine smile.

The Brit glanced down at his feet, seemingly blushing under his helmet and balaclava. ''Thank you,'' he told her in a small voice, having grown shy at the compliment, ''I would give you a hug, but we're still doing that private relationship thing so how about a fist bump?''

She cackled at the suggestion, but stuck out her fist, bumping it with his. ''The way you said that made me laugh.''

''Yeah? That's nice.'' He laughed to himself, happy he got a giggle out of her. ''Anyway- I have to get in the car now so I'll see you right after?'' An expecting look in his eyes.

''I'll be here,'' she smiled, ''be careful, alright? I know you'll do well, but I still want you to walk out of the car without a scratch.'' Y/N had a small gut feeling, it was probably nerves, but she couldn't shake it off.

''I will, darling.'' He assured her with a nod.

''Okay, good luck.'' She bid him goodbye, sending him off to his team while she made her way inside the Prema garage, standing next to Ollie's father.

David took a glance at the young girl. ''You always look this nervous, Y/N?'' He chuckled.

She tensely laughed. ''I used to worry about one guy, now I have to worry about two.'' Y/N explained her stress to him.

''I get that, but it's gonna be fine- don't worry that smart head of yours.'' David tried comforting her. He figured her anxiety was more bad than usual as she wasn't by her brothers' sides.

''I'll try.''

The race was going fine, the youngest Leclerc's nerves calming down as both her guys had clean starts and were battling in the Top 5. It wasn't until Croft's commentary that she realised her gut feeling had been correct.

''COLLUSION BETWEEN BEARMAN AND LECLERC! BOTH CARS OUT OF THE RACE!''

The crash wasn't big, but both cars ended up in the wall with some force. Arthur went along the inside of Ollie's car, but got squeezed by the Pourchaire and the former teammates made contact.

The entire Prema garage watched the screen with wide eyes, surprised by the sudden turn of events as they waited for a sign that both drivers were okay.

Oliver gave a quick ''I'm ok.'' through the radio, relief visibly going through everyone listening. The Brit was the first one to get out of their car, not sparing the Monégasque a glance as he walked away with one of the marshals.

Arthur followed swiftly, Y/N letting out a deep breath as her brother seemed physically alright from the crash.

The youngest Leclerc sibling noticed the wary eyes on her while she glanced around the garage. She could feel her head heating up due to embarrassment for the situation, hoping the Italian team wasn't cursing her out in their heads.

About 10 agonising minutes later, Ollie walked into the garage. David left their spot, while she stayed there- unsure of what the right thing to do was at that moment.

The young man was first approached by Anthoine who patted his back and whispered some inaudible words into his ear, most likely sweet comforts to calm him down.

As soon as the helmet and balaclava came off, it was obvious how angry he was with the situation. His usual smile traded for a tightlipped frown and a furious red colouring his cheeks.

Ollie merely nodded at his engineer and anyone who attempted to try to make him feel better about the unfortunate end to his race. His father gave him a hug, but David wasn't met with the infamous resting head on his shoulder.

The Brit pulled away and tilted his head towards the driver's room. ''I'm just gonna be in there for a while.'' He shook hands with some of the mechanics and made a run for it, leaving to be his own.

Jamie glanced at her, seeing the visible concern on the young girl's face. He signalled for her to talk to him, tilting his head at the garage exit.

Y/N hesitated, doubting the comfort she could bring to her boyfriend at that moment. However, Gigi gave her a soft push. ''You're the only person he's not going to ignore.'' He told her, confident in his words.

She nodded her head and took off her headset, carefully putting it back where she had gotten it from. Y/N smiled weakly at the Prema crew, almost feeling ashamed as it was partly her brother's fault that they would have to work even harder and longer tonight.

The Monégasque knocked two times on the door, opening it without hearing an answer. Ollie stood against the table, his racing suit hanging around his waist. The indifferent expression on his face worried her, not used to it.

''Are you okay? You're not hurt, right?'' She walked up to him, taking slow steps.

The youngest Leclerc put her hand on his back, relieved he didn't shrug her off like he had done with everyone else.

''I'm fine, probably just gonna be sore in the morning.'' Ollie mumbled, brushing his hand through his hair. The lack of eye contact not doing anything to ease her worries.

Y/N nodded. ''So… what happened there?'' She wanted to hear his side of the incident, already planning to ask Arthur the same thing later.

Ollie scoffed at the question. ''Your fucking brother obviously wanted to kill me with his car and just slammed us both into the walls.'' He exclaimed, getting worked up again.

His answer stunned her, simply staring at him with a frown on her face.

''Like what the fuck did I do? Is it cause I'm your boyfriend and he wants to pull that overprotective brother agenda? It's stupid, everything is so stupid.'' Ollie continued, leaving her side and pacing the rather small room.

The young girl waited a few seconds before saying her next words. ''It was just an accident, Arthur wouldn't run into you on purpose.'' She defended her brother, knowing how Arthur considered Ollie one of his closest friends on the grid.

''Of course you're going to take his side. It was not an accident, Y/N- oh, whatever.'' He sighed, sitting down on one of the chairs, and grabbing his phone from his bag.

''I'm not taking sides! It just looked like an incident, it's no ones fault.'' She stated, clarifying what she meant.

Ollie rolled his eyes, frustration still overtaking all of his other emotions. ''You're really saying that was a fucking racing incident? I get that he's your brother, but that doesn't mean he can't make mistakes.''

''You think I wouldn't point it out if Thur made a mistake?'' Y/N chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. ''I'm not the biggest racing expert, but it was quite clear that it was an accident.''

The Brit remained quiet, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram despite having gone through all the new posts already.

Y/N observed him, her disappointment growing over her boyfriend's behaviour. ''I really don't like how you're acting right now.'' She disapprovingly shook her head.

''How am I acting right now?''

''Like an asshole, Ollie.'' She cursed, startling the Prema driver as it doesn't happen often.

He scoffed once again. ''I'm not being an asshole, I just can't believe you're not on my side on this.''

''I'm not on your side? I'm here for you, aren't I? I could easily be standing in my brother's garage right now with my family, but I'm here for you, because I want to be here.'' Y/N retorted, not wanting to believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

''If you want to be there so much, then go to fucking DAMS.'' Ollie said, before standing up and turning around to change his clothes. Y/N watched him with sad eyes, feeling dejected over his careless attitude.

The young girl stood frozen in place for a few moments, after which she turned around and opened the door. ''Bye, I guess.''

She wanted to close the door with a lot of strength so a loud ''bang'' would be produced, but she wanted to remain polite in front of the Prema team and potentially damaging one of their doors doesn't exactly scream politeness.

Y/N got out of the backdoor of the hospitality, too humiliated to face anyone and explain what happened in the driver's room. She stumbled around the F2 paddock, in search of the DAMS hospitality so she could check up on her brother.

In a moment of absent-mindedness, Little Leclerc bumped into the body of another person with quite a force. ''Oh, I'm so sorry.'' She apologised before even seeing who she had run into.

''It's okay- Y/N?'' Her head shot up at the gentle voice of Joris, a rush of relief going through her body that she'd found a familiar face.

Her brother's friend properly greeted her with a hug, bending down a little. Joris could see by the look on her face that not everything was right with her. ''Hey, ça va?'' He rubbed her back.

''Is Thur okay?'' Y/N deflected the question, wanting to know about her brother's wellbeing.

Joris nodded, a frown appearing. ''Yeah, just a bit of neck pain, but nothing too serious.'' He answered. ''What's wrong, petite? You look a bit sad.''

Y/N’s eyes started watering, not able to get the words out at the reminder of her and Ollie's disagreement. The older man in front of her noticed what was going on and pulled her in his embrace. ''Hey, don't cry. What happened?''

The youngest Leclerc shook her head. ''Ollie, he- he told me to go away.'' She sniffled between her words, tears rolling down her cheeks.

''What do you mean? Wait, let's go to Enzo.'' His hands gently grabbed her shoulders and he guided her to the DAMS hospitality where her two brothers were calming down after the eventful but short race.

She dried her tears while making their way to Arthur's driver room, not wanting other people to know that she had been crying.

Joris opened the door, making Arthur and Lorenzo turn their heads towards them. ''Hi, chérie.'' The eldest greeted her before noticing her teary eyes and flushed face. ''Did you cry?''

Lorenzo walked over to her, cupping her face. ''Is Ollie okay?''

''Yeah, he's just really mad.'' Y/N mumbled, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room.

Arthur shifted in his seat. ''It really was a racing incident, we were both at the wrong place at the wrong time.'' He explained, a similar frustration visible to Ollie's.

''I know that, I tried to explain that to him and he started saying shit.''

Both of her brothers furrowed their eyebrows. ''What did he say? Something about me?'' The DAMS driver asked.

''I asked him what happened and he was saying that Thur tried to kill him, and that you did it cause he's my boyfriend and that you wanted to be an overprotective brother.'' Their sister summarised for them.

''That's bullshit.'' Arthur said, rolling his eyes.

''I told him you wouldn't do that and that it was just an incident, but then he got upset and said I should be on his side, and that there was no way that it was just an incident. Then I told him he was acting like an asshole and he said that he wasn't,'' the three men chuckled when she mentioned calling her boyfriend an asshole, ''he was just upset that I wasn't taking his side and I told him that I was there for him, and then he basically told me to leave.'' A tear escaped her eye which she quickly wiped away.

The men frowned. ''He told you to leave?'' Lorenzo repeated her words, stunned by what she was telling them. He couldn't even imagine the young man asking that of her.

Y/N nodded her head, a pout forming on her face.

''Is he still in the garage? That bastard.'' Arthur got up from his seat, moving to the door with large strides but being stopped by Joris. ''We're not gonna do that.''

''If he's angry with me, he should curse me out! Not my sister.'' The youngest brother reasoned, holding up his arm as if he was pointing at Ollie. Arthur understood the Brit's frustrations, but he shouldn't take them out on his baby sister.

Lorenzo grabbed his brother's shoulder. ''How about instead of causing more trouble, you console your sister?''

Arthur sighed, but approached the young girl. ''Come here,'' he pulled her in an embrace, her arms going around his waist, ''he shouldn't talk to you like that, Y/N.'' Her brother caressed the back of her head.

''I know.'' Y/N pouted.

He hugged closer upon hearing her defeated voice, hating how sad she sounded. ''You want me to actually kill him next race?'' The question managed to crack a smile out of the young girl.

''That's more like it.'' Lorenzo grinned, relieved Arthur cheered her up- even if it was only momentarily.

''Hey Y/N, I'm going to Cha now, you want to come with me?'' Joris suggested taking her with him, figuring she could use the distraction. ''I'll let you take some pictures.'' He held up his camera, knowing she enjoyed messing around with it.

''Yeah, I'll go with you.'' She agreed, gloomily lifting her lips.

Her brothers both gave her a few pats on the back. ''We'll join you in a while, okay?'' Lorenzo told them, assuring her they wouldn't be too far behind them.

''Okay, can I have some money for food, though? They have smoothies at the F1 paddock.'' Y/N's sorrowful expression traded in for a pout, her doe eyes attempting to convince her brother to give her some money.

Lorenzo pretended to be shocked by her question, overdramatically widening his eyes. ''Money? You want money? Why don't you ask Charles, he's got a lot more than I have.'' Her oldest brother exaggerated.

''Because he's probably already wearing his racing suit and there's no cash or cards in there.'' Little Leclerc replied, a 'duh'-tone present in her voice.

The three men looked impressed by her answer, entertained by her quick comeback. ''That's a great reason, actually.'' Arthur admitted, his sister's reply having him think about how driver's never carry money in their racing suits.

Lorenzo sighed, but pulled out his wallet- a squeal leaving the young girl's mouth. ''Thank you, Enzo.''

She held out her hands to grab the money, but her brother pulled the few notes of cash back. ''Only on food! Not unnecessary memorabilia that will just sit in your drawer.'' The stern look on his face didn't intimidate her, but she was aware not to mess with Enzo's words.

''I promise, only food. Joris will keep an eye on me, won't you?'' Y/N mischievously glanced at her brother's best friend, already knowing he'll let her get away with anything.

The photographer nodded to Lorenzo, ''promising'' to not let her spend his money on anything other than food.

Her brother slowly handed her the money, Y/N immediately taking it and putting it in her pocket. ''Thank you, Lolo.'' She used his old nickname, teasing him a little more.

''Get out of here before I take it back.''

Arthur's team debrief didn't last as long as it usually did. Normally, they would have a lot to discuss about the feature race, but since his was cut short, there wasn't much to talk about. His team did advise him to clear the air with Ollie, since the Brit seemed very upset about the collision.

The Monégasque driver didn't have a huge interest in speaking to his younger friend, but at the end of the day- Ollie was his FDA teammate and also friend, he didn't want there to be conflict between the two of them. Yes, he wanted to kill the guy for speaking to his sister like that, but that was something for the couple to resolve.

Arthur went straight from the DAMS hospitality to the area where all the F2 drivers resided, on his way to discuss what happened with the Prema driver. He didn't put any haste behind his steps, not looking forward to meeting eye-to-eye with him.

The youngest Leclerc brother waited a few moments before knocking on Ollie's door, appreciating the calm before the expected storm.

His three knocks came out louder than he had intended, scaring himself a little by the noises. Arthur heard a faint ''Come in'' and opened the door, being confronted with a rare sight.

A crying Ollie.

''Hey, mate.'' The young Brit greeted him, rubbing his eyes and leaving a red colour behind. Oliver stood up from the chair he was sitting on, but Arthur insisted he sat back down with a simple wave of his hand.

The older one grabbed a nearby chair and sat himself next to him, observing the youngster's puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. ''Hey, are you okay?''

Ollie nodded his head, but the emotions on his face told a different story. ''Yeah, uhm, sorry about the race- I reacted a little heated, it was no one's fault really.'' He rambled, the words coming out of his mouth at a rapid pace.

''It's alright, we've all been there,'' Arthur brushed his apology off, understanding it was the heat of the moment that made him respond like that, ''but, uh, you know, my sister is really upset about what happened.''

The Prema driver looked down at his hands upon hearing Arthur's words, a tear falling from the corner of his eye onto his knuckles. ''I- I- I know, I was a fucking asshole- I was just very upset about the race, but I shouldn't have acted like that. I'm really sorry, Arthur.''

''No, I understand, but you shouldn't say sorry to me, you know?''

The DAMS rookie's anger had wittered and was replaced by sympathy. Arthur still didn't like how Ollie had acted towards his sister, but seeing how much it affected his former teammate almost broke his heart.

''Yeah, I know.'' The tears started flowing again and soon enough the bottom of Ollie's sleeves were covered with damp tears. ''I just- is she gonna break up with me?''

Arthur immediately shook his head. ''No, no, no! I think she's just sad with you right now, but she won't break up with you, Ollie! Are you crazy.'' He assured him, chuckling the last part.

''Good,'' Ollie sighed out of relief, ''I don't know what to think or do. I've never been in this situation before.'' He admitted, an attempt to confide in his girlfriend's older brother.

''I get that, but don't worry too much. Y/N is a very understanding person, and if you explain to her, she will forgive you- just give her some time to like… calm down.'' Arthur advised him, knowing his little sister would accept his apology as long as he proper;y explained himself.

Ollie carefully listened to each word that left Arthur's mouth, nodding along. ''Okay, yeah… but like- how much time is that?'' He asked him.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. ''I don't know. Maybe send her a text, saying that you would like to talk whenever she feels ready to talk.'' He suggested, offering him a solution that always worked whenever he and Carla had a disagreement.

The Brit nodded again, pulling his phone out of his pocket. ''Yeah, that's great, actually. Uh, so I just send her that?'' Ollie sought out assurance again, afraid he was doing something wrong.

He felt relief once again when Arthur nodded his head. ''Yes, I don't know if she will respond right away, but I think she'll be happy that you want to talk.''

With Arthur's confirmation, he typed away on his phone.

ollie 🧸: hi ❤ whenever you feel ready to talk, just let me know x

ollie 🧸: i was being an asshole, I'm really sorry :(

ollie 🧸: hope you're okay, love x

Ollie showed his friend the texts, tension leaving his shoulders at his nod. ''That's good, I know she'll appreciate that. She can't stay mad at you.''

The younger one smiled at that, cheeks heating up. ''I hope so, I don't like the thought of her being upset, especially if it's with me.''

A grin appeared on Arthur's face. ''Oooh~ so cute!'' He bumped his shoulder against Ollie's, teasing the younger guy. ''But seriously, Ollie- she likes you a lot and this will be forgotten in a few days.''

''Yeah… we're fine, right?'' Ollie wasn't too sure where he stood now with the Monégasque, concerned this might affect their friendship.

Arthur snickered at the visible worryness on his face. ''Of course! I mean- I came in here to punch you in the face, but then I saw you cry and I felt bad.'' He joked, although it wasn't that far-fetched.

''Y/N always says that the three of you like me, but sometimes… I don't know, you guys look at me like you want to kill me.'' Ollie said it with a chuckle, but it had been a legitimate concern of his ever since he started dating the youngest Leclerc sibling.

Arthur sighed and put his arm over the Brit's shoulder. ''We like you, Ollie. It's just this big brother thing, you know? This is her first real relationship, we don't want her to be heartbroken over a boy,'' he calmly explained, understanding where the younger one was coming from, ''but we really like you and we want the best for you. Enzo and Charles even check on your races and stuff, they wouldn't do that if they hated you.''

The Leclerc brothers truly had grown fond of the young Brit over the last months. They had seen the positive effect he had on their sister and that was more than enough for them to ''approve'' their new brother-in-law. At first, they were apprehensive about the fact that he was a fellow racing driver, but the 2 teenagers seemed to handle everything well- comforting their worries.

''They really do that? Awesome.'' Ollie smiled to himself, honoured that Lorenzo and Charles caught up on his race results and standings.

Arthur threw him the infamous Leclerc wink. ''Don't worry so much, you're a great gay.''

''I'm a what?'' Ollie's eyes widened as the words left the older one's mouth.

Arthur speaks English with a heavy French accent, causing him to pronounce certain words differently. The most famous example, the way he says ''guy''.

The Monégasque copied Ollie's expression as soon as he realised what he had actually told him. ''No, no! Guy, you're a great guy!'' He pronounced it more clearly this time, making sure the 18 year-old didn't misunderstand him.

''Oh, okay. I- I was confused for a second there.'' Ollie awkwardly laughed it off, glancing at Arthur. ''You should be a bit more careful with your pronunciation, you don't want to get in trouble.''

''Isn't June the gay month? At least I won't be in trouble then.''

''You mean pride month?''

there won’t be a part 2 as this is more arthur x ollie focused! pls don’t ask for a part 2 in the comments or my inbox, I will just ignore it! 🤍

• • • • • • •

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[alyrasturnz]

im so tireddddd of matt being the broken one and y/n being the comforting one

pls create a fic about this “how can you love someone like me” “how can i not love someone like you?” but like y/n is the broken one with a really bad and dark past and really hesitant and js has her walls up

make it a short blurb pls! just the argument and nothing more ty

HOW CAN YOU LOVE SOMEONE LIKE ME?

❐ summary » two souls clash with raw emotion. y/n, weighed down by past scars and self-doubt, questions their worthiness of love. matt sees beyond the flaws, recognizing the true beauty within.

❐ pairings » bf!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » slight angst but mainly fluff and matt comforting reader

❐ a/n && w/c » hey bae! hope this was short enough and what you wanted • 1.12k

you find yourself in a room where the shadows seem to whisper secrets, the air heavy with the weight of unsaid thoughts. matt moves restlessly, his agitation almost tangible. with a voice that quivers, caught between anger and sorrow, you finally break the silence, "how can you love someone like me?"

he stops dead in his tracks, his eyes locking onto yours with a look of disbelief that seems to pierce through your very soul. "how can i not love someone like you?" he retorts, his voice rising slightly with an edge of desperation. "you think you're unworthy, but you don't see what i see. you're everything to me."

"you don't understand," you murmur, shaking your head slowly, as if trying to dislodge the weight of your thoughts. "i'm flawed, broken in ways you can't even begin to fathom."

"everyone is flawed," he counters, taking a deliberate step closer. "but that doesn't make you any less deserving of love. you think your imperfections push me away, but they pull me in even more. they make you real, they make you human."

"i don't want to be a burden," you whisper, your voice trembling as tears well up in your eyes. "i don't want you to look back and regret choosing to be with me."

he reaches out, gently cupping your face in his hands. "i could never regret loving you," he murmurs, his eyes full of earnestness. "you make me better, you challenge me, you make me feel alive. don't you see? loving you isn't a choice; it's a necessity."

you pull away, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to shield your heart. "but what if i can't give you what you need?" you whisper, your voice fragile. "what if i'm not enough?"

he sighs, running a hand through his hair, a gesture heavy with contemplation. "you are enough, more than enough," he says softly. "love isn't about perfection; it's about acceptance, growth, and understanding. we can face any storm together, as long as we have each other."

"it's not that simple," you argue, your voice cracking as you wrap your arms around yourself even tighter. "there are things about me that you don't know," you continue, your eyes darting away to avoid his gaze, "things that could change everything."

"then tell me," he pleads, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that seems to pierce through your very soul. "let me in. let me love you, all of you, even the parts you think are unlovable."

you take a deep breath, the weight of your fears pressing down on you like an anchor dragging you down. “i’m scared," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the vulnerability of your confession.

"i'm scared too," he confesses, his voice softening like a gentle breeze. "but i'd rather face that fear with you than live without you. please, let me love you, every part, even the shadows you hide."

you look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love that radiates from him like a beacon in the dark. it's a love that you feel unworthy of, yet desperately crave. slowly, you nod, allowing yourself to believe, if only for a fleeting moment, that maybe, just maybe, you are deserving of his love.

"you don't know what you're asking," you say, your voice wavering like a fragile leaf in the wind. "loving me means accepting all my scars, my past, my mistakes, and the shadows that linger in my soul."

"i want to know everything," he insists, his grip on your shoulders firm but gentle, like an anchor in a storm. "i want to share your burdens, lighten your load. that's what love is about, isn't it? intertwining our souls, even in the darkest times?"

"but what if you can't handle it?" you challenge, your eyes searching his for any sign of doubt, like a lighthouse scanning the horizon. "what if my past is too much for you, an abyss too deep to fathom?"

"then we'll face it together," he replies without hesitation, his eyes locking onto yours with a fierce determination. he takes a deep breath, his grip on your shoulders tightening slightly as if to anchor you both in this moment. "i'm not afraid of your past. i'm more afraid of losing you because you think you're not worthy of love. you're my world, and i'm willing to fight for you."

you feel a tear slip down your cheek, tracing a path of vulnerability, and he wipes it away with a tenderness that feels almost sacred. "i don't deserve you," you whisper, your voice breaking like a fragile porcelain vase, revealing the depths of your insecurities.

"you deserve happiness and love just as much as anyone else," he says softly, his words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. "and i'm here to give you that, if you'll let me," he continues, his voice a gentle promise, echoing with sincerity and unwavering devotion.

"i don't know if i can," you admit, your heart aching with the weight of your insecurities, like a heavy fog that refuses to lift. "i don't know if i can be what you need," you continue, your voice trembling, each word a fragile confession of your deepest fears.

"you already are," he reassures you, his eyes filled with unwavering love, like a lighthouse guiding you through a storm. "you are everything i need and more. please, don't shut me out. let me prove to you that we can make this work," he implores, his voice a symphony of sincerity and hope, resonating deep within your soul.

you take a deep breath, feeling the walls you've built around your heart begin to crumble like ancient ruins succumbing to time. "okay," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "i'll try. but you have to promise me something."

"anything," he says, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze a steadfast anchor in the turbulent sea of your emotions.

"promise me that you'll be patient," you say, your voice trembling like a fragile leaf in the wind. "promise me that you won't give up on me, even when things get tough," you continue, each word a delicate plea woven with vulnerability and hope.

"i promise," he vows, pulling you into his arms with a tenderness that speaks volumes. "i'll never give up on you," he murmurs, his words a solemn oath, resonating with unwavering commitment.

as you stand there, wrapped in his embrace, you feel a glimmer of hope, like a faint star piercing through the night sky. maybe, just maybe, you can learn to love yourself the way he loves you. and in that moment, you realize that perhaps you are worthy of love after all, like a hidden treasure finally unearthed.

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[pazza-di-te]

Thoughts about Price? well... I dont know why, but im stuck at a massage specialist working on Price. (Head is stuck) That man surely has so many knotted muscles and its going on for so long he doesnt even know how it feels to be loose and limber anymore. (Age doesnt help.) So I think when the boys finally get him to a chiropractor or massage specialist and his whole spine just *CRACKS* and he is finally getting more loose again, he could either pop a boner, ask the massage specialist to marry him, or feel like a cookie in a bathtub (if that makes any kind of sense.) - awkward Fink

Aint gonna lie if somebody cracked my back THAT good I'd marry them on the spot too.

●●●

○ bet ur ass that it took real convincing for the 141 to convince price that a massage will do him good and Price relented, wanting to make Johnny shut up about his "old age"

○ He entered the massage spa with the 141, all giggling behind him, and all his feelin is nervous about the warm lights and pink-ish hue of the walls.

○ "are you Mr. Price?" the registry asked him

○ of course, those bastards already made a reservation under his name.

○ time skip to him, letting his worries and regrets thrown out the window after he felt a specific part crack.

○ "oh luv that's the spot" he sighs and you happily oblige

○ he's pretty lucky too since he got your pretty ass to do his back, silently thanking the gods above that he was on his stomach, making you unable to see his twitching member.

○ After a while, his back is refreshed, smelling like bottles of essential oil, and he feels like he aged backwards.

○ "Quite talented hands you got there. Shame we just met, why don't we go to a restaurant near here and we can learn about each other more?"

○ You giggle at his attempt. He's cute, so why not

" So a date then, Mr. Price?"

○ "Yes and, John will suffice."

○ Time skip to 141 staring at John looking like a scored the lottery and his back straighter than ever.

[aniesvision]

wanna bet? (chris sturniolo x f! reader)

part 3!

click to read part 1 and part 2

warnings: enemies to lovers trope!, teasing, suggestive, smut!, being a bit possessive over here (just a lil bit tho), p in v, no protection (don't do this), a bit of praising, happy ending!

a/n: wanna bet? is now over :( it was fun to write it, i wanna do more long fics. im also not sure if some parts made sense but i tried. friendly reminder that english is not my first language!

synopsis: matt and nick are back! and now the bet thing is (almost) over, in the end it turned out way different than they expected.

🪻🪻🪻

He rolls his eyes and I giggle. We took our baths, almost innocently. Nothing else happened, and we even talked like normal people do. We got out of the bathroom, got dressed and went upstairs to the living room, where Nick and Matt were, sitting on the couch. They looked at each other suspiciously and then back at us.

-So you're all alive...? —Nick asks, confused to see that we both arrived together, from Chris's room, with wet hair.

-Yes, Nick, we're alive. —Chris replies, sounding annoyed.

-Wait, since when are you guys here? —I ask, remembering the bet.

Maybe I won, even if it doesn't matter anymore.

-About forty minutes, I think. —Matt replies, suspicious.

I look at Chris, who covers his face with his hands and lets out a deep sigh.

- I love you guys so much. —I say to Matt and Nick while laughing at Chris's reaction.

-You guys made me win a bet and now he has to do everything I want for a week. —I explain quickly, seeing Chris look at me a little stressed.

-I thought we agreed that this bet was no longer worth it.

-You thought you had won and I accepted your request. And now you'll have to accept mine. —I look at him intently, trying to send him a message that only he would understand by the way I looked at him.

He looks at me slightly confused, but didn't say a word, knowing that we'd discuss it later.

-Can someone explain? —Nick asks, confused and wanting to know what was going on.

Matt also looked at us confused, but not so interested in knowing like Nick was.

-We made a bet, if he won I would owe him one, if I won he would do everything I wanted for a week. Then we thought he had won, he already made the request he wanted and I accepted it, now we saw that I was the one who won for a short time, so thank you very much.

Chris rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh, watching me intently with an expression that could almost confuse me with anger if I didn't know exactly what he was doing. I walk a few steps to the side, getting closer to Chris and whispering in his ear.

-You'll have to make me cum at least twice every day for the entire week.

He holds his smile, biting his cheek and locking his jaw, taking his eyes off me and walking to the couch, sitting in the middle of the brothers. Without saying anything, I walk to the kitchen, taking a can of pepsi that the boys brought and sit down next to Nick, who took turns looking between me and Chris, still not understanding much.

-You're not telling me what happened while we were gone? —Nick looks straight at me, hoping I'd tell him all the details, but this time I couldn't say anything.

It would be better and funnier to keep it a secret for now, just as I agreed with Chris.

I open the can, taking a few sips and looking at my friend with a smile.

-Nothing happened, we just made a bet and fought as usual. And I won, so I'm going to make sure this is a very long week for Chris.

I look at Chris with a sarcastic smile, who just looks at me without reaction and turns his gaze to Matt, bringing up some random subject. I knew he was probably making a giant effort not to look suspicious and I was holding myself back from laughing.

-You guys are weird. —Nick says, rolling his eyes and ignoring the situation. I felt relieved that he didn't insist on knowing more, not knowing if I was going to be able to keep this character under pressure for long.

I pick up my phone and start to mindlessly navigate through social media, distracting myself and talking from time to time with Nick. The hours went by and it was already super late.

-I think I'll go to bed, you coming? —Nick asks.

The two of us always shared his bed when I slept at their house. I was supposed to leave today, but I ended up staying late without even realizing it and didn't want to drive home alone.

-I'll go later.—I give him a smile and he smiles back, walking up the stairs to his room.

Matt had already locked himself in his room a few minutes ago, so once again it was just me and Chris in the living room. He looks at me intently, as if afraid to say something. I get up from the couch, glancing at him before going to the kitchen and throwing the empty pepsi can in the trash. Without saying anything, Chris followed me and turned my body so that I could look at him. Our gazes met and he took turns between my eyes and my lips before pulling me in for a long and heated kiss.

-My room. —He says, guiding me down the stairs again by the hand and locking the door as soon as we pass through it.

He kisses me again, already running his hands over my body until he takes off my shirt and throws it on the floor once again.

Soon enough our clothes were back to the floor and he was on top of me, aligning his dick with my entrance and thrusting all of him at once, making sure to cover my mouth with his hand to prevent me from moaning loudly as he starts to move faster and deeper.

-Fuck, you're so hot, I'm glad you're all mine now. —He whispers in my ear.

I close my eyes and bite my lips to prevent myself from moaning too loud, letting out a few hisses from time to time. Chris uses his hand that previously covered my mouth to trace circles on my clit, making me grip his hair and arch my body, begging for more.

-Chris, fuck, don't stop, please. —I plead, between moans, seeing him smile and increase the speed even more.

I left scratches that would definitely make red marks on his body, but I didn't care about it now, neither did he.

Chris was impressively good, he knew exactly what he was doing. He was so good that he made all the other guys I had sex with look pathetic.

-You look so beautiful moaning my name and begging me to fuck you. Even prettier now that you're all mine.

His words triggered my thrid orgasm of the night, his name escaping my lips like a mantra as he looked at me like a starved man looks at a meal.

-Good girl. —He smirks.

His own orgasm followed right after, a whine leaving my lips as I feel him shooting his load inside me and pulling away to collapse on the bed beside me.

After we caught our breaths, I let out a giggle, making Chris look at me confused, but with a tiny smile.

-Maybe it doesn't take much for me to stop hating you after all, you just gotta fuck me like that more times.

I shrug, making him smile and pull me in for a kiss. We put our clothes back on and went back to bed.

-Stay here tonight. —He asks, looking at me intently, his eyes showing me that he meant it.

-Nick's gonna be suspicious if I don't come up. But don't worry too much, we'll have plenty of time to sleep together along the week.

I press a quick peck on his lips and leave his room, walking up the stairs with a smile on my face.

Before I could open Nick's door, my phone vibrates with a new notification and I unlock it to read.

"gn pretty girl, come kiss me goodbye before u leave tomorrow"

I smile even more, typing a reply.

"pack some stuff, ur leaving w me tomorrow, I'll make an excuse about the bet we made to matt and nick so they don't find it too weird, ur staying with me all week pretty boy"

I open Nick's door, seeing him lying in bed scrolling through with his phone and he soon breaks into a smile when he sees me. We talked for a few minutes until we fell asleep.

When I woke up the next day, I warned Matt and Nick about the bet me and Chris made and said that he would come back with me 'cause he needed to do everything I asked during the week. They laughed, thinking it would be torture for Chris to stay with me for so long.

Back to my place, along the week, Chris treated me like a princess all the time, it almost felt like we were a couple. The dynamic between us changed so much so fast, but it was way better like this. We got to know each other without all the fights and arguments, and I actually started to like him. He showed me parts of him I had no idea that even existed, and how he was making me feel, the way he now talked to me and all the cute things he'd do or say was something unexpected by me.

He also kept his promise to make me cum twice a day, some days even exceeding that amount. Surprisingly, this was the best week I've had in a long time, and it was with him.

tags 💕

@fratbrochrisgf @aaliyahsturniolo1 @sturnsvlg @edgemaster696 @user9383738392 @bigbeefybitch @riowritesitall

[annaxbree]

talk back (pt 2)

nate doe x reader

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol

previous part

"a few people" was their answer when i asked how big of a gathering this would be.

the triplets had just hit another milestone in their career, which called for a celebration.

and while the get-together was limited to close friends, it was still more than a few people.

and, of course, they had invited him to the celebration. why wouldn't they ? nate is their best friend, after all.

despite this fact, i was still surprised to see him walk through the door with that annoying smirk planted on his face.

he looked good, i'd never tell him that though.

his head turned in my direction, but before we could make eye contact i moved my head to face the direction nick was sitting.

"im getting a drink" i whispered, standing up from the couch. nick only nodded, already engrossed in conversation with a friend.

i let out a sigh as i made a beeline towards the table that was littered with drinks, i guess they planned on getting a little drunk tonight.

before i could even pick out what drink i wanted, i felt his breath on my neck.

his hand found its way to the small of my back while he reached around me to grab a cup.

instead of doing so, however, he craned his neck downward to look at me. his face was mere inches away from my own.

"so do you just never know what you want to drink, then, princess?" he asked, his breath tickling my face. "or did you need my help again?"

i watched his lips move while he talked, caught in a daze as i thought about the way they felt against mine.

it took me a minute to snap out of it, but when i finally did i was quick to make a comeback.

" i never asked for your help in the first place" i spoke.

"so you're just standing here looking around for no reason?"

"i got here like four seconds before you did" i deadpanned.

"yeah, it seemed like you were running away from me. you scared of something?"

"yeah, that massive forehead"

before he could say anything back, he was interrupted by the voice of nick.

"of course you two are here together" nick spoke. "the hell is that supposed to mean?" i asked.

"all i'm saying is you two have a tendency to disappear together at parties. what were you two doing in the bathroom together, anyway?"

"oh, i'd actually love to talk about this right now, but i'm pretty sure i hear chris calling me" he spoke as he backed away slowly.

before anyone could stop him, he was already gone.

"do you hear that? i think i hear madi calling me" i spoke, poking my thumb in the opposite direction.

"yeah, nice try"

"are you kidding me? nate just did the exact same thing" i pointed out.

"yeah, well nate doesn't owe me an explanation. you do"

"ok, fine. we just spent time in the bathroom...but nothing happened" i spoke.

"spent time in the bathroom doing what?"

"you know....talking"

"girl, you're not fooling anybody...especially not me"

"we kissed..."

"....for 10 minutes?"

"what, did you time it? "

"no, bitch, it was an educated guess"

"ok... so, we kissed for 10 minutes" i spoke with a shrug.

"and why are you just telling me this now?" he asked.

" 'cause i regret it, and it never should have happened in the first place"

"nick!" madi yelled from across the room, "come over here! matt and chris want pictures!"

while nick walked away from me, nate walked towards me. instead of stopping, however, he grabbed my arm and pulled me around the corner wordlessly.

he pushed me against the wall, caging me in with his arms.

"that's funny, didn't seem like you regretted it when you were moaning my name" he rasped.

"what are you talking about?" i asked.

"don't act like you didn't just tell nick you regretted it"

"how do you know i was talking about you"

"who else would you be talking about?"

"well, why would you assume you're the only guy i'm talking to?"

"am i?"

"that really doesn't concern you"

"what if i want it to?"

"what if you shut up and kiss me?"

"you know for someone who claims they don't want me, you're pretty needy"

"if you don't want to kiss me, i'll go find someone who will"

"shut up" he spoke before leaning down and closing the gap between us.

tag list: taglist: @creamoncreamoncream2 @freshloveforthefit @patscorner @sturniolosmind @sturniolosloves

[loveinhawkins]

for the one word ficlet prompt thing!!

I'd love to see something steddie with the word "sun". not picky about how you use it and im good with whatever season you'd like! 💕🌻💘☀️

pre season 3 crossing paths in high school, my beloved ☀️💕 ao3

There’s a blind spot just on the outskirts of the school grounds, before you get to the woods: a little hill that if you sit at just the right angle, back pressed up against the grass, no-one can see you. Eddie goes there whenever he needs some peace—like now, reading alone during lunch. He can still hear the distant laughter of students floating along on the breeze, but it’s far enough away that it doesn’t intrude as he reads.

The air smells like summer’s approaching. His fingers skim through drying blades of grass; they feel almost as delicate as pressed flowers.

Despite the calm solitude, the words aren’t going in—and he knows that with the right teacher, he kinda gets Tennessee Williams, but Mr Hauser’s gone, and he was the only one who allowed Eddie free reign to go wild when reading aloud in class, every other sub since then would say he was being disruptive and… okay, that was true some of the time, but most of the time it was because it helped, damn it, gave him at least some hope of scraping a pass—

A shadow falls across Eddie’s page—it doesn’t loom in the way a teacher’s stance would, but he still jumps at the suddenness of it.

“Jesus!”

Eddie tips his head back against the hill, cranes his neck to look upside down. Squints against the sun.

It’s Steve Harrington, and he must have gym straight after lunch because he’s already changed into a T-shirt and shorts, which is an odd decision in Eddie’s opinion as a perpetual gym-ditcher, but whatever, it’s a free country… and it’s not exactly like the guy’s an eyesore.

”You trying to give me a heart attack, Harrington?”

“No,” Steve says shortly; he looks a mixture of embarrassed and… annoyed? Which would be a new personal best for Eddie, considering he’s done nothing to piss him off save for just sitting on the ground. “I didn’t know you were here, dude.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the idea,” Eddie waves his hands in explanation, “welcome to my hiding spot.”

Steve scoffs. “Not much of a hiding spot if I found it.”

It comes out a little petty, sure, but nothing major, Eddie thinks; it’s not like Steve’s picking a fight.

“What’s up with you, man?” he asks lightly.

It’s something he’s pondered more than once over the last couple of years, in between the stress of failed tests and the same platitudes in school reports: Eddie must apply himself next year; Eddie must try harder; Eddie must…

In the background of it all was the enigma that was Steve Harrington. Eddie had found that you couldn’t not look at him, his eyes drawn to even the most fleeting impressions: walking past the lockers or driving in and out of the school parking lot. Seasons changed—whole damn years changed—and still the question remained: just what on earth is up with Steve Harrington these days?

At least now, asking the question is profoundly less upsetting than it had been last fall, when Eddie silently tracked the progression of bruises healing across Steve’s face—along with Billy Hargrove’s intimidating stare.

“Nothing, I’m just…” Steve sighs. “Didn’t wanna spend forever in the cafeteria when it’s so nice out, but… Honestly?”

“Nah, I’d prefer you lie to me,” Eddie says deadpan, and Steve snorts before sighing again; Eddie almost asks him to read some Tennessee Williams out loud, ‘cause he’s surprisingly got the dramatics for it.

Steve flops down onto the grass, lies right on his back with no concern for his precious hair. “I’m so damn bored, Munson.”

“Gosh, my heart bleeds,” Eddie says. “Puh-lease tell me how hard it is to have passed everything and literally not have a care in the world?”

Steve blinks up at him, frowning. “Shit, are you repeating again?”

He sounds earnest, and there’s something in his phrasing that means Eddie isn’t nearly as defensive as normal—maybe because it’s about repeating again rather than failing.

Eddie lifts up the script in demonstration. “Not exactly reading this for fun, dude.”

“God, I’d take that over gym right now.”

“Okay, you’re bullshitting me. You love gym, Harrington. You, like,” Eddie gestures at Steve’s get-up, “actually make an effort and everything.”

“Not when the semester’s almost over, man. We don’t even have a cover right now, so we’re just left to, like, do whatever, who gives a shit. I’m bored outta my mind.”

“Tragic,” Eddie says—gym without a teacher sounds like a dream; he’d literally just leave. “I’m weeping for you.”

Steve rolls his eyes. But it doesn’t feel like a dismissal, even when he doesn’t reply and just lies back in the grass with another sigh.

So… Eddie mulls it over. What the hell, Steve’s graduating; it’s not like they’ll cross paths after that.

“Bet you can’t run to the woods and back before the bell rings.”

Steve sits up, a gleam of interest in his eyes. He checks his watch. “The bell’s gonna ring in, like, two minutes, Munson.”

“Oh, sorry, I thought you were so bored. Well, if you’re not up to the challenge—”

“No, no,” Steve says, standing up. “I didn’t say that.” He actually gets into position like he’s on the running track, looks at Eddie expectantly.

Eddie covers his bemusement with theatrics; he mimes firing a starting pistol.

And… shit, Steve Harrington can run.

Objectively, it’s not like it’s a surprise; he wasn’t exactly bringing up the rear in the swim and basketball teams. Still, it’s one thing knowing it, another to see it up close like this.

Eddie puts his book back in his bag, watching as Steve disappears from view. Reluctantly, he edges away from the hill—if he doesn’t, he’ll risk being late for class again by the time he walks over, and… He thinks of ‘86, what has to be his third time lucky. Start as you mean to go on, and all that.

Eddie turns back to look. Sure enough, Steve comes sprinting out of the woods, racing up to the hill right as the bell rings.

“Still counts, Munson!” he calls, a little breathless.

And Eddie knows that he’s not really solved the mystery of what’s going on with Steve Harrington.

What he does know is that Steve is smiling as he raises a fist in victory, the sun turning his hair golden for just a moment; he looks utterly free—as he should be, graduation’s right around the corner.

And Eddie can’t begrudge him that.

”Inspirational,” he shouts, cupping a hand around his mouth as he walks backwards. “I’ll get John Hughes on the phone, stat.”

The bell stops. Eddie turns around before he can trip on his own feet.

He’s getting closer to the school building now, can feel the change in the air, cliques unwillingly disbanding as teachers move them on.

But as he heads to class, Eddie faintly hears evidence that the moment hasn’t been broken entirely: Steve Harrington’s laughter, drifting across on the wind.