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6ix9inewiturmom · 9 months ago

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Camera Caught- Matt Sturniolo

Summary: you accidentally left some hickeys on matt’s neck and the fans catch it, start making edits, and matt “punishes” you

Warnings: SMUT, degradation, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (female receiving), P in V, Unprotected sex, praising, slight crying.

A/N: I LOVE YOU ALL ENJOYY

PSA: I GIVE NO RIGHTS TO COPY MY WORK OR USE MY WORK FOR “INSPIRATION”

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Matt and I’s relationship has been very very private, we've been trying to keep it that way till we both collectively agreed to go public. Matt was down in the garage filming for a Friday video and I was endlessly scrolling on TikTok, I came across this edit of Matt, I didn't think much of it till i saw the comments.

Mattscupsupremacy: THE HICKEY?! WHO IS SHE?? MATTS A FREAKY GAL

Chrissypoohmylover: UHM MATTHEW?? what a freaky man.. she’s one lucky girl to be getting that fire dick

Nickismyqueen: WHY IS NO ONE POINTING OUT THE FACT HES NOT EVEN TRYING TO COVER IT UP??

Yamother6629: we lost another one girls… Funeral at my place at 6 pm tmr 😔💔

Thefourthtriplet5239: MATT SEEMED SO VANILLA.. who would ever guess that man is kinky?

“No no no” I say panicking out loud and immediately jumping out of bed and running through the house and busting the door open to the garage where Nick, Matt, and Chris are barging into the garage which sends the boys into an immediate panic

“Okay so you can edit this out of the video but it's an emergency,” I say out of breath.

“Girl go the fuck on, you said it’s an emergency, spill let’s go” Nick says snapping his fingers.

“Okay, patience, so I was scrolling through TikTok like normally waiting for you guys to finish filming and I scroll across this Matt edit,” I say trying to find the edit on my phone.

“Y/N how many times do I have to tell you to stop watching edits of me, I'm right here no need to fangirl over me,” Matt says with a sense of cockyness in his voice.

“No no hold on it gets better, so I scroll through the comments cause you know it's funny watching as the 12-year-olds talk about you being their ‘baby’-” start before Chris cut me off

“GET TO THE FUCKING POINT YAPPER,” Chris says throwing his hands in the air

“Says the one who goes on about putting a literal tit milk-drinking infant in the backseat of a car with no car seat. So let's not talk about her yapping” nick defends.

“ANYWAYS, Matt you forgot to cover your hickeys from the other night and everyone knows about it now, cause when you moved out of frame your hoodie must have come down, and there are edits and people calling you ‘vanilla’ whatever the hell that means, and like everyone is wondering who the girl is and I'm like panicking now,” I say with panic in my voice “I know you weren't ready to go public but everyone is like freaking the fuck out” I continue.

“Fuck, I thought the hoodie was a good cover” matt sighs “look its fine well figure it out after I'm done filming just go back inside and calm the hell down” he gives me a quick peck on my forehead and shutting the door of the car.

A couple of minutes later I got a text from matt, normally he does send me the occasional ‘i love you, almost done filming’ message but this one was a little different.

Matty B Rapz 💍

you’re in big trouble for getting us caught

i hope you ain’t tired cause you’re in for a long night

This wasn't out of the normal for Matt to be rough with me but over text? This is new, but I love it. I could feel myself getting soaked at all the possible ways Matt could fuck me, all the positions, thinking of all the ways in which he could make me cum.

After an hour and a half of endless scrolling through TikTok, I can hear the footsteps of Matt through the hallway.

“Hi baby, how was filming?” I say as he walks in the door immediately shutting it and locking it.

“Don't ‘baby’ me, strip,” he says harshly as his eyes darken with lust.

A smirk appeared on my lips, and moved off the bed walking towards him as I placed my phone down on the bedside table and slowly and teasingly removed my pants and shirt leaving me in my light pink lingerie set that I knew drove him insane, the way it hugged my curves, pushed my Brests up with a small delicate flower in the middle, and my underwear that sat and hung onto my hips with another small flower in the middle of it.

“So fucking sexy,” Matt says under his breath causing a light shade of pink to appear on my cheeks.

Matt wraps his arms around my torso and unclips my bra letting my breasts fall and the straps of my bra fall off my arms. He lightly pushes me back so I'm sitting on our shared bed as he places a deep and passionate kiss on my lips.

I yearn for more of his lips but he pulls away from me and starts trailing light kisses down my jaw and to my neck and sucking harshly on my neck so we have matching marks on my neck and soft moans escaping my lips.

“Since you had to go and get us caught,” he starts before sucking harsher in my neck in a pattern this time. “Everyone's gonna know who you belong to now” he pulls away walking back a couple of steps to admire the marks he left on my neck.

‘M’

His initial was spelled out on my neck.

“And you're not gonna cover that up. Got it?” he spits walking towards me and wrapping his hand around my neck.

“Yes, Matt” I whisper out

“Good fucking girl” he removes his hand from my neck and pushes me down so my back is now on the bed flat.

He lowers his body down, basically on his knees, and he leaves kisses down my stomach before kissing over my clothed pussy and a soft whimper comes out of my lips.

Using his teeth he guides my underwear off my legs and throws them on the floor with a smirk plastered on his face.

His face between my legs was always a sight for sore eyes, never failed to turn me on the way his blue eyes always stared at me through his eyelashes. He places small kisses around my thighs eventually making his way down to my dripping pussy and placing kisses everywhere around it but where I need him the most.

“Matt, please” I plead.

“What are you begging for? Use that filthy mouth of yours and tell me what you want” he says harshly.

“I need your mouth, please” i whine.

He smirks and uses his tongue to move up and down my folds collecting my juices he lets out a groan as the taste of my pussy touches his tongue. His lips attach to my clit sucking harshly on it.

“FUCK MATT” My back arches and my eyes roll back basically seeing my brain.

His tongue explores every inch of me as he keeps a steady gaze on me and how my body reacts to his mouth. His fingers trail into my begging hole that's clenched around the air begging to be fulfilled curling his slim fingers upward reaching a spot I could never reach by myself.

“MATT” I scream out as My thighs close his head in.

“Legs stay open” he mutters through my pussy.

His fingers now moving at a pace that's driving me absolutely insane, his muted moans against my pussy is only turning me on more.

“close” i breathe out trying not to strain my voice.

“hold it,” he says muttering against me as his nose flicks my clit digging his face deeper into my pussy. He was almost moaning as much as I was, typically he didn't even care if he cums, he gets off at watching me come unglued from his mouth or fingers.

“Please” I repeat pleading with matt.

“No, you're gonna hold it and you're gonna show me how much of a good girl you can be” he lifts his head continuing his pace with his fingers.

His gaze never left me, the way my back arched off the bed and my eyes rolled back just at his fingers was always so amusing to him.

“You always look so beautiful wrapped around my fingers,” he says smirking down at me and taking his lower lip between his teeth as he continues to arch his fingers inside me.

“PL-PLEA- CUM” i mutter unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Go ahead baby, let it all out” he coos in my ear in a low raspy voice.

The knot in my stomach snaps, and my orgasm hits me like a bus, my legs shake as my cum drips down into his fingers. he removes his fingers licking off my cum from them.

“Face down ass up, I ain't done with you” he says sternly.

I slowly nod turning around and holding myself up by my elbows taunting my ass around in the air. Matt smirks to himself removes his hoodie, and quickly removes his boxers and pants throwing all his clothes somewhere in the room.

I feel the bed dip down from the weight of his knees behind me. He reaches his arm around to my mouth places his hand below my mouth.

“Spit” he says harshly.

I obey spitting in his hand as he uses my spit to rub around the tip of his cock moving his hand up and down to coat his cock.

Matt aligns himself with my entrance and immediately bottoms out letting a loud groan escape his lips as my hips jerk backward and a loud whine leaks from my lips.

“You think you're so fucking innocent huh? Leaving those fucking hickeys on my neck” he spits thrusting harshly into me gripping onto my hair and pushing my head far into the mattress.

“I-im SO-SORRY” I scream into the mattress.

“Oh, you're sorry? If you were sorry you wouldn't be creaming all over my fucking. dick.” he says thirsting harder to annunciate his last two words as his head hangs low to look down at the white rim that's formed around the base of his cock.

“FUCKK” I whine out with tears starting to form in my eyes from the overstimulation. “CANT- CANT-TAKE” I muffle out as his hand pushes my head farther in the bed.

“You wanted this” he grunts “You take it” his hand travels down my body and starts to toy with my sensitive clit.

“OH BABY-” i scream out as my cervix begins to twitch around his cock signaling how close I was.

“Oh you think you're gonna cum soon?” he taunts rubbing faster on my clit as his thrusts begin getting sloppier.

“Pl-pl-please” I whisper yell to him.

“You're so fucking pathetic” he groans out using both hands and pressing my waist down the bed and rolling his hips into me getting deeper and kissing my cervix with his cock.

My legs began to shake and tremble “CLOSE” i choke out. his grip on my waist loosens up as he leans down and kisses my back.

“let it go, baby, let it all out” With that, the knot in my stomach breaks and I squirt all over the bed leaving a wet mess beneath me. “God damn baby you're so fucking sexy” he leaves small kisses on my neck as his thrusts got even sloppier.

“Oh fuck” he buries his head in my neck and groans as his cum begins to shoot out of him filling my hole of his cum.

He softly pulls out of me rolling me over now laying on my back and gives me a soft peck on the lips.

“Let me clean you up, yeah?” he smiles down at me and I shoot him a small smile back.

He throws on the same pair of sweatpants from earlier and walks softly and carefully to the bathroom wetting a small rag and bringing it back into the room.

“You did amazing, Y/N” he smiles up at me as he carefully runs the warm wash rag down my legs and anywhere else that was covered in cum.

“I am sorry about getting us caught, I know that we didn't want to go public just yet” I softly whisper as he makes his way next to me bringing me into his arms and placing a kiss down on my head.

“Hey, don't worry about it. We'll figure it out in the morning. But for now, just get some sleep," he says, running his fingers through my hair and occasionally kissing my head. We eventually drifted asleep, intertwined with each other.

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A/N PT 2 HI LOVES!! IDK how to feel ab this one but i hope you guys enjoyed it! I hope you're doing amazing!! And have an amazing day/night/evening!!

Xoxo

Gabs 💋

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo

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thewulf · 10 months ago

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Never Let You Go || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Hiya! Can i request an angsty/fluffy aaron fic?Aaron and reader get into a fight because reader has been ignoring hotch since he forgot her birthday (its been a week after at that point) so he confronts her and they fight.... Read Rest Here

A/N: You guys have the best requests. Please keep sending them in. Hope you like a good little hurt/comfort.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

TW: Yelling, intentional hurt

It was a rainy Saturday night when your heart broke for the hundredth time under the false promises from your longtime boyfriend, Aaron. You knew what you were getting into when you got into the relationship all those years ago. You knew he worked long hours. You knew he had a son who was his, and now your, priority. You knew he would have to cancel plans, dates, anniversaries. You knew it all. What you didn’t expect was him to forget about your birthday completely. He was home, at the BAU, and worked late instead of coming home and taking you out. You had plans! But he just… forgot.

It wasn’t until you brought it up the next day, mumbling it to him with a saddened look did he recognize he had forgotten. What broke your heart was the fact that he didn’t even make up for it. He didn’t get you flowers or a gift or even apologize. He just… moved on. And you had no idea how much it bothered you until that fateful Saturday night as the rain poured down. You were angry at him. You had accepted the misses and the cancelations. What you couldn’t get over was the fact that he had forgotten it completely and didn’t even want to make it right.

When you heard the lock twist and Aaron entered your shared residence all you wanted to do was run away from him. You didn’t want to talk to him. You didn’t even want to look at him. You weren’t sure if you even wanted to be with him anymore.

When he walked into the kitchen you turned away, busying yourself with unloading the dishwasher.

“Hey baby.” He walked over to you giving you a hug from behind. Aaron wasn’t remiss to the way you tensed under his touch. How you simply mumbled something incoherent to him. It was when you pushed him away did he finally realize something was off.

“Honey, what’s up?” He asked.

Was he playing dumb? Did he really not know just how deeply he had hurt you by ignoring something you loved so much? You knew it was silly, but birthdays were your thing. You were the friend who went all out for others. You just wanted someone to celebrate you the way you had to others, especially Aaron.

You felt tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as your brain got yourself worked up. Maybe it was best to just keep quiet because you had no idea if you could hold back the waterworks. So, instead of answering him you simply walked away. Your momma always taught you it was best to not get into an argument when you were feeling emotional about the situation.

But that seemed to set him off further. You had been cold to him all week. Not greeting him like you normally did. Not leaving out his dinner like you so often would when he worked late. Yet you just couldn’t seem to care. If he didn’t care for you why should you return the favor?

He couldn’t take it anymore. So, he snapped at you. "Are you ever going to talk to me?" Aaron's voice breaks the suffocating silence in the home, the frustration evident in his tone. You were thankful Jack was sleeping over at a friend’s house now. You knew the inevitable fight was bound to happen.

You sat down on the couch, but you didn’t dare turn to face him. "What's there to talk about?" Your voice is icy, the bitterness seeping through each word.

Aaron took a step closer to you, the distance between you feeling like an icy rift he wasn’t quite used to with you. "You know exactly what we need to talk about," he retorts, his patience wearing thin. "You've been ignoring me ever since—"

"Since you forgot my birthday?" You cut him off sharply, your voice laced with resentment. "Yeah, I remember. You’re a profiler. Profile it Aaron." Venom was laced in your voice as you finally made eye contact.

His jaw clenches at the reminder, guilt gnawing at his insides. He messed up, and he knows it. And he knew he had been ignoring it. Ignoring the subtle signs, you left him. He knew how important these things were to you. And he took the cowards route of simply trying to ignore it. He knew better than to do that with you. He had been taking advantage of your kindness thinking you would simply ignore it. But you were reaching your breaking point. And he was exhausted from work. He simply knew this wasn’t about to be a good conversation.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He offered. But the effort felt hallow.

You shook your head blinking back the tears. “You’re just saying that because I’m angry! You had no intention of making it right Aaron!” You hardly ever raised your voice yet here you were, yelling at the man who looked overly tired. He rarely brought home his work with him, but it must’ve been something about his last case that had ravaged him.

He let out a rather obvious sigh of frustration, clearly exhausted. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You bit back the harsh words you wanted to use. “I wanted you to remember! To apologize for forgetting. I want you to pretend like you give a single shit about me! You couldn’t even remember my birthday?” That was a low blow, and you knew it yet somehow you couldn’t care.

Things were bound to spiral when you saw the anger in his gaze. “I apologized! If you didn’t make such a big deal about something so small this wouldn’t even be a problem. I’m starting to see why I forgot.”

It felt like the wind was knocked out of you right then and there. Each word feeling like another dagger to your already broken heart. Physically, you recoiled as if he had hit you, your eyes were wide with disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that.” You stood from the couch knowing you were going to run away from him. Your voice wavered just above a whisper as you spoke.

Regret washed over his face as he heard your floundering voice. He had taken it too far. Gone a step further than he needed. He crossed that invisible line that held the relationship together. “Baby… I didn’t mean it like that.” His eyes were wide as he reached for you. But you wouldn’t let him touch you, no. Not after those comments. “I’m just tired and frustrated and I just wanted to hold you tonight. I hate that we are fighting over something so stupid. But baby, I don’t know how to fix this. Tell me what I need to do.”

You shook your head rapidly frustrated beyond belief with him. “Something so stupid?” Your voice gave way to the weakness you felt in the moment, “My birthday is stupid now?”

Your words hung heavy in the air between the two of you. Aaron felt that lump form in his throat knowing he had used the wrong words yet again. It felt like he was being crushed over the weight of his mistakes now.

Before he can find the words to respond, you turn on your heel, your shoulders slumped with defeat. "I'm not so sure if there's anything left to fix," you say softly before walking away, leaving him standing alone in the wreckage of your shattered relationship in the living room of your home.

As he watches you disappear down the hallway, Aaron knows that he has lost more than just an argument. He has lost a piece of your heart, and he isn't sure if he will ever be able to win it back. But he is determined to try, no matter what it takes. Because you were worth fighting for, worth every moment of pain and heartache it would take to earn your forgiveness. And as he stood there alone in the empty room, Aaron vowed to do whatever it takes to make things right again. Even if it means confronting the darkest parts of himself and facing the harsh truth of his own shortcomings.

The silence in the house is deafening as Aaron stands outside the closed bedroom door, his heart heavy with regret. He can feel the weight of his mistakes coming own on him, each passing second only serving to deepen the ache in his chest. With a trembling hand, he reaches out and knocks softly on the door, the sound reverberating through the empty hallway. "Please," he whispers, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur. "Let me in."

There is no response from the other side, no indication that you have even heard him. But Aaron refuses to give up hope. He knows he has hurt you, but he can't bear the thought of losing you, not now, not ever. And you laid there in your bed, hurting beyond measure trying to ignore the man you loved more than life itself.

"Please, just talk to me," he pleads, his voice cracking with every emotion. "I know I screwed up, but I'm begging you, give me a chance to make it right. Please baby."

Still, there is nothing but silence from the other side of the door, and Aaron feels his heart sink even further. He presses his forehead against the cool wood, his chest constricted with the weight of his longing. You wanted to forgive him, to let him in. But you couldn’t, not yet. No matter how desperate he sounded.

"I can't do this without you," he pleads, his voice barely a whisper. "You mean everything to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness. Just... please, let me in." He tries once more to get you to crack. And it worked. You’d never heard him so desperate. His voice so raw with emotion.

For what felt like an eternity, there was no response, and Aaron feared that he had lost you for good. But just as he is about to give up hope, he hears the faint sound of movement from within the room, followed by the soft click of the door unlocking. As much as you wished you knew you couldn’t ice him out completely. You had both thrown unkind words at the other

His heart leaps with hope as the door cracks open, revealing your tear-streaked face, your eyes red and puffy from crying. Aaron's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, his heart breaking at the pain he has caused. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I never meant to hurt you. Please, let me make it right."

You hesitate for a moment, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. But then, with a resigned sigh, you step aside, silently inviting him into the room. Without a second thought, Aaron crosses the room, pulling you into his arms with a fierce, desperate longing. He holds you close, his heart overflowing with gratitude as he vows to never hurt you like he had just done.

As Aaron holds you tightly against him, he feels the weight of your sorrow pressing against his chest. He can sense the tremors wracking your body, the silent sobs that wring tears from your eyes, and it tears at his soul with a sharp, agonizing ache. "I'm not supposed to be the one who makes you cry," he whispers, his voice thick with remorse. "I'm the one who's supposed to dry your eyes, to chase away your tears, not cause them."

His words hang heavy in the air between you, a painful reminder of the mistakes he had made. He had never wanted to hurt you, never imagined that his actions could bring you to such sadness. And yet, here you are, crumbling in his arms, your heart laid bare for him to see. "I'm so sorry baby," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head as you bury your face against his chest, your tears soaking through the thin fabric of his shirt. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right, I promise."

But his assurances feel hollow, meaningless in the face of your pain. He knows that mere words are not enough to mend the wounds he has inflicted, that it will take more than empty promises to earn your forgiveness. For he had let you down so many times before. As Aaron holds you close, he knows that his actions will speak louder than any words he could offer. He will need to show you, day by day, that he is truly sorry, that he is committed to making amends and rebuilding the trust he has shattered.

He begins by being there for you in every way that he could possibly be, anticipating your needs before you even have to ask. He cooked your favorite meals, not because he wants to impress you, but because he wants to show you that he does in fact care about you. He knows you more than you knew yourself. He listens to you, really listens, to every word you speak, hanging on to your every thought and feeling, eager to understand the depths of your sadness caused by him.

He showers you with small gestures of affection, leaving little notes around the house, reminding you of his love and devotion. He holds your hand when you walk as a reassurance that he will always be by your side, no matter what.

But most importantly, he gives you space when you need it, allowing you the time and freedom to heal at your own pace. He doesn't push you to forgive him, doesn't demand your trust before you are ready. Instead, he remains patient, steadfast in his determination to prove himself worthy of your love once more. And as the days turn into weeks, and the weeks into months, Aaron watches with bated breath as the walls you had erected around your heart begin to crumble. He sees the flicker of hope in your eyes, the tentative smile that graces your lips more and more often. He sees you returning to the light he had let burn out.

And when you finally reach out to him with a certain uncertainty, Aaron knows that he has been given a second chance. A chance to rebuild what they had lost, stronger and more resilient than ever before. And so he takes your hand in his vowing to never let you go, to cherish you, to protect you, to love you with every fiber of his being. As you walk hand in hand into the future, Aaron knows that you have weathered the storm together. The two of you emerged on the other side, whole once more.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y

Request Taglist: @spookyparadisesheep @nelliebug18 @fictionallifestuff

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lovelytsunoda · 4 months ago

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the puppy bowl. | lance stroll

summary: one simply does not wear a joe burrow jersey to the puppy bowl. or, an important fact gets left out of the super bowl party invitation

pairing; lance stroll x girlfriend!reader

warnings: miscommunication, the relationship is still fairly new , kinda gets a bit frisky in like the middle-ish, lance gets wherever the dog version of baby fever is, i talk about lance's tattoo again because its one of my favorite lance related topics.

“brad said the guys are on their way, they’re just stopping to get some beer. you guys want anything?”

yn shook her head, placing a large bowl of doritos on the coffee table, next to a tray lined with soft drinks. “I’m good, you guys know I don’t drink anyways. but if you guys want something go ahead.”

“you sure? not even a coffee or anything?” ella asked, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I can send brad to tim’s. he won’t mind.”

“go on then, grab me a medium white hot chocolate. has he picked up lance? I haven’t heard from him all morning.”

by the tv, her other roommate, faith laughed. “he’s fine. james took his phone when he got in the truck. last I heard they were singing wonderwall in a liquor store parking lot.”

the girls had lived together for going on five years, an arrangement that had started back in college when they were randomly selected as roommates by the colleges matching system. they survived the three years of hell spent in student accommodations before faiths parents (who owned a property rental company) helped them pool their resources together and get the house together. somewhere along the line, this vaguely sports related party had become a tradition, with their boyfriends joining one by one, starting with brad.

“be nice to him, guys. we’ve only been going out for a few months, and I’d like him to stick around.”

elle giggled. “what, do you think we’re going to haze him?”

she paused, thinking about what had happened to james during his first puppy bowl. “something like that.”

“he’ll be fine! I’m sure he can handle james and brad. they’re harmless.” faith insisted, pulling y/n in for a hug. “I can’t wait to meet him properly.”

there was a knock at the front door that was clearly intended only as a courtesy as they could hear a key turning in the lock shortly after. brad pushed the door open, marching inside with his ball cal on backwards and a six pack of budweiser in his hand.

“who’s ready for some sports, bitches!”

“language!” elle scolded, walking around the couch to give her boyfriend a kiss. it was only a matter of time before they moved in together, but the housing market was harsh and it was more likely brad would be moving in to the rental house than elle moving out of it. “hi sexy.”

slinking in the back and helping james carry some boxes was lance. yn’s heart warmed at the sight of him. his goofy smile, fluffy hair contained in a backwards baseball cap. and was that a cincinnati bengals jersey?

“oh, sweetie, did they tell you this was a super bowl party?” she tried not to laugh as she kissed him gently. “this is a puppy bowl party. we aren’t sports people.”

a slow, horrified look spread across lances face as brad and james burst out laughing. faith rolled her eyes and smacked her boyfriend playfully in the chest, and yn did the same, reaching for a pillow on the couch.

“hey, it was brads idea!” he insisted “hurt him, not me!”

faith smiled apologetically. “I apologize for my boyfriend. hes a bit of a wanker.”

“come on,” yn insisted, tugging lance gently in the direction of the small staircase leading to the backsplit addition. “I’ve still got a few of your shirts in a drawer somewhere that if forgot to give back.”

she was acutely aware of the wolf whistling behind them, followed by a muffled apology from brad. she was also very aware that this was the first time that lance would be seeing her room.

she opened the door slowly, shyly ducking in and closing the door behind them. lance walked towards the bed, taking in the pale blue walls, the collection of postcards tacked above her desk, all the places she had been on the travels. the bookshelves lining one wall, filled with colourful spines. the double bed in the middle of the room, with it’s simple duvet and mountain of stuffed animals.

"don't mind brad and james. they can be a little overzealous when they've been drinking."

lance snickered. "i think james had already had a few by the time we got to costco. try and keep him away from the bud light if you can. get some water in him."

"so that's how you ended up singing wonderwall in the liquor store parking lot?"

she crouched in front of her dresser, opening the bottom drawer and extracting the shirt on top, a linen button down of lance's that hse had borrowed and never given back.

"you listen to frankie goes to hollywood?" lance asked, nodding towards the crates of vinyl records sitting by her desk. "i thought only people my dad's age liked them."

"funnily enough, that crate is all ones my dad didn't want any more." she laughed, tossing him the shirt. "what can i say, i'm an old soul. you've been in the car with me, you know what i listen to."

"i love your old soul." lance encouraged, tugging her closer by the belt loops. she rested her hands on his shoulders, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

"need help getting that jersey off?"

lance laughed, stretching up to kiss her. "you know i can never say no to you."

"so if i asked for oasis tickets you could make it happen?'

"do you even have to ask? i will carry you on my shoulders for the whole concert if it means i get to see your face light up when 'don't look back in anger' starts playing."

she smiled softly, kissing him again. "i love you. and it's okay if you can't say it back yet, i just want you to know how i feel."

lance kissed her again, smooth hands traveling over her thighs. "no need. i'm in love with you too. all of you. your old soul, your bright smile."

laughing, she kissed him again, harder this time, her fingers gripping and tugging at his bengals jersey. giggles got caught in clambering kisses as lance picked her up, flipping their bodies over so that he was caging her against the bed. somewhere in the movement, his baseball cap flew off, landing on the hardwood somewhere. he tugged the jersey over his head, mussing his hair and exposing his gorgeous, toned chest.

she ran her hands over his chest, and then over the tattoo on his ribcage, the delicate hebrew under her fingers.

"what does it mean? the tattoo?"

"fortune favours the bold." he said it again in hebrew, his voice soft as he caressed her face.

he leaned in to kiss her again when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"the pre show is starting!" faith shouted "you'd better not be getting naked in there! and if you are, use a condom! i'm too young and fabulous to be an auntie!"

they paused for a moment, staring at each other before they burst out laughing.

"come on, let's head back down. you won't want to miss this, especially if you've never seen a puppy bowl before." yn beamed, slipping out from underneath lance and passing him his shirt. "stay here tonight?"

she could have sworn she saw a blush take over his pale features. "you really want me to?"

"yeah. yeah, i do."

still smiling, the went back to the living room with rosy cheeks and intertwined hands. elle and faith were sitting next to each other on the l-shaped couch, their boyfriends on their other sides. the "L" of the couch was still available, and lance was all to eager to cuddle up with his sweet girl.

"hey, man. sorry about the super bowl thing." brad said apologetically. "we did it to james too, but we meant nothing by it. you're a great guy, welcome to the group."

"thanks man." lance grinned, reaching over to give brad a fist bump.

"guys, guys!" elle shouted. "it's starting!"

"that's him, the cocker spaniel is my guy!" james yelled, jabbing his finger at a cocker spaniel named sparkles that was trotting onto the green.

yn's heart melted as she saw the puppies take their places at the start. if she had the space (or the money) she'd adopt one of the puppies herself.

"we should get a dog." lance whispered behind her.

"babe, where is the dog going to stay? we don't even live together."

"we can coparent." he insisted. "come on, look at that dachshund with the tiny legs and big eyes. is she not the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

well, lance had a point there. the doxie, named peanut, was adorable, the way she trotted across the green, trying to tug the squishy football from the mouth of a labrador three times her size.

"one day. i promise you that. but let's get through the housing crisis first." she insisted, kissing lance softly. "let's be dog parents."

her phone buzzed by her thigh where she left it on the couch, the screen lighting up with messages to the roommate group chat.

ellie: he's a keeper! such a sweetie!

faith: keep him!!! you guys are so good together <3

she smiled to herself, resting her head against lance's chest. he curled an arm around her, pressing his lips to the side of her head.

"i love you." he whispered, running a hand up and down her arm.

"love you too." she smiled, sinking into him.

"james!" faith shouted in the background. "no more beers for you! get a goddamn glass of water!"

#the cozy collection 2024 #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll x you #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #Spotify

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holdinbacksecrets · 6 months ago

Note

svt finds out you were married before you met them

anon… this request is golden. thank you so much for sending it! i had the best time writing these 🤍

seventeen find out you were married before being with them

seungcheol: he’s at the bodega around the corner because you’re out of… he forgot the excuse. luckily, it was mumbled and difficult to make out, so he’ll bring back coffee. his palms are sweating and he looks up at the ceiling as if the answer’s in between the popcorn. now, you’re his. he’s yours. you’re one. but you were someone else’s, and that idea isn’t new to him, but knowing that someone was your husband makes it feel different. he looks up again. “please give me something here.” a light flickers. he leaves without the coffee

jeonghan: he stops to watch you spoon strawberry jam onto slices of toast. they’re golden brown triangles beside scrambled eggs, and you’re making sure the bright red covers the golden brown surface perfectly, just like you always do. the only red he can think about is the blood his heart is pumping, and the fact that his heart stopped pumping for a moment or two

joshua: “now everything makes sense.” “what do you mean?” “sometimes you’re just too good at being my partner.” “that has nothing to do with being married before. i’m literally just in love and obsessed with you. actually, being married did make me strict about the dishes. i’ll never go to bed with a pile in the sink.” “baby, you won’t go to bed if there’s a spoon in the sink or a crumb on the countertop.” “and how good does it feel to wake up and see a clean kitchen, hmm?”

jun: he’s confused. he’s wearing it, swallowing it, holding it in his gaze, and suddenly wondering how well he knows you— why it took you so long to tell him

soonyoung: “i knew it was a mistake by the next morning. i woke up craving my mom’s pancakes.” “have her send us the recipe.” you squeeze his hand and bow your head so your lips can brush its palm. “don’t worry, history won’t repeat itself.”

wonwoo: the photo album’s on his lap. it feels like a fever dream to look at you. you watch the sky through the window, craving color after too much black and white. “i’m mad at myself.” “why?” “i should’ve waited for you.”

jihoon: the ring came rolling out of its hiding spot and stopped in the middle of your bedroom floor. the sunlight caught it. he blinked a million times, felt his lips part too. you let it be. you exhaled, feeling relieved to part with the secret. finally

seokmin: “look at me. do i look upset?” “no… you eyes are all shiny” like he might cry. “it means a lot that you told me.” “i shouldn’t have waited so long.” “you really didn’t wait that long.” “are you sure you’re ok? do you… am i…” “yes.”

mingyu: the words come out on a sunday morning in the park near your place. your head’s on his shoulder. his hand’s on your thigh; it’s warm and the slightest bit rough—different from the cool, soft breeze on your cheek, on the back of your neck. he asks about your happiness and when it left the space you created with your ex. he wants to know what he can do to make sure that never happens again. he wants to make sure he’s not missing anything

minghao: he’s watching you. there’s gentle love in his eyes. he’s hoping you’ll look up and away from the sudsy dishes for just a moment long enough to realize he’s not mad. to realize it doesn’t change anything

seungkwan: he wonders about your wedding dress and if you still have it. he wonders about pictures and videos and the expression on your face at the altar. moments he’s dreamed about are already existing in memories, have already been seen by your loved ones, might be sour in your head. would you do it all again? do you even want to?

vernon: “i can’t help but wonder how many people make the same mistake as me… think something’s love when it’s not.” “do you really think of it as a mistake?” “pretty sure that’s just a fact.” “i’m not so sure… aren’t you the same person who’s told me for years that everything happens for a reason?” “maybe i just tell myself that to lessen the blow.” “possibly, but maybe it’s true. maybe that step that you think was in the wrong direction was crucial. i wouldn’t have found you any other way.”

chan: “i feel like i shouldn’t be looking at this… it’s like i’m seeing your dress before i’m supposed to. i shouldn’t know what you’ll look like walking down the aisle.” “this isn’t who i am anymore. think of how much time has passed. i have brand new skin now.” “…i thought you were going to say something romantic.”

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sugrhigh · 1 year ago

Text

FEELINGS MUTUAL - ( c.s. )

summary- you and chris, a d1 lacrosse player, have been good friends since freshman year. he accidentally hurts your feelings one night while youre hanging out, and things escalate as he’s apologizing.

warnings - it’s smut (use of ma included oop) so PLEASE read at ur own risk, if u don’t like it keep scrolling cuz idgaf 🤭

bff!chris x fem!reader

a/n: this is my first one shot on here AHH! i’ll probably be writing more so if you have requests or ideas, pls send them my way xoxo

“i still don’t understand how you predicted most of that within the first thirty minutes.” chris shakes his head, arms crossed as he leans back against the headboard casually.

“i told you, i’ve got it down to a science. all scary movies are practically the same.” you shrug, clutching a pillow to your chest as you lay in his bed.

it’s late now, or early. you’ve been watching movies together all night, just like you usually do during slow weekdays where neither of you have to be up for class, or in his case, practice.

“i wish you didn’t insist on watching them all of the time.” he says.

“aw, is little christina scared?” you tease him with a small grin.

“i hate when you call me that. and nothing about me is little.” chris kicks you with his foot gently, and you nearly roll off of the bed trying to avoid the contact.

“gross.”

“whatever, you’re the one thinking about my dick.”

“i absolutely am not.” you argue, though you feel your cheeks flush.

“keep lying.”

you lift an arm out to smack him in the bicep, and he just laughs. “stop flirting, you slut.”

“if i was flirting, you’d know.” chris smirks, running a hand through his long hair.

“you think you could rizz up the babadook?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him properly.

“oh for sure.”

he doesn’t hesitate before saying it. he even nods his head a little bit in certainty.

“someone’s confident.” you laugh.

“c’mon, i could rizz anybody up.”

“you haven’t managed to do it to me, and we’ve been friends for two years.”

“that’s because i’m not trying to.”

for some reason, this stings a little. chris is a bit notorious for getting around, though it’s not really his fault. as a d1 lacrosse player who also happens to be very attractive, girls come falling at his feet.

you’re just not one of them, and he clearly doesn’t mind. you’re not sure why you even care.

it just makes you feel weird, that you’re the only girl he’s not attracted to for whatever reason. like you’re defective or something.

“right. i forgot you’ll hit on every other girl in the world, just not me.” your voice comes out more sour than intended.

chris looks a bit surprised, eyebrows raising slightly at your tone. “because you’re…you know…you.”

“wow, you really know how to make a girl feel good, huh?” you roll your eyes before turning to lay facing the other direction.

a hand snakes its way to your waist, a familiar sensation that still makes butterflies erupt in your stomach regardless.

“you know i didn’t mean it like that.”

you bury your head further into the pillow, trying to ignore the way his thumb is tracing circles against your hip. “whatever, chris. i get it.”

“you clearly don’t, because you’re all pissy now.” he sighs, breath tickling your skin.

“no i’m not.”

“yes you are.”

“i just want to sleep.” you lie.

chris fully wraps his forearm around your stomach now, tugging you so that your back is flush against his chest. he buries his chin in the crook of your neck, and you can’t help but smile slightly to yourself.

“all i meant is that you’re not those girls. you’re too special.” he says quietly into your ear.

you bite down on your lip to try and keep the grin from growing.

“now you’re just humoring me.”

he shakes his head slightly, stubble scratching at your shoulder in a pleasant way. “i’m not and you know it.”

you’re actually thankful you’re in a tank top, because having his warm skin on yours is nice. you’ve never felt it before, and it kind of makes you nervous.

“do i?” you question.

“you should. you’re the only girl who can get me to watch horror movies with her. the only one who sleeps over, or gets to steal my hoodies—”

“oh please, i know you gave that bitch maddy your sweatshirt. she wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.” you cut him off.

“okay, she stole that from me and now she won’t give it back, so that’s different.” chris shuts you down quickly.

“if you insist.”

you shift slightly in his arms, and you hear him suck in a breath as you get comfortable.

“don’t do that.” his voice is strained.

“what?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“don’t move like that.”

“i’m not allowed to move now?”

“not when your ass is on me.” his grumbles, and you finally get it.

“oh.”

your response is abnormally high pitched, and you’re not sure what else to say. you’re too terrified to turn even in the slightest.

“who’s scared now, huh?”

you swear he must have gotten closer, because you can almost feel his lips hovering by your earlobe as he speaks. the smile is prominent in his tone.

he’s teasing you, and it spurs a fire in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never felt with him before. you maneuver your body, and this time you purposely back your ass up against his lap.

you hear him let out a small groan that vibrates against your body, and it nearly makes you shiver.

“not me.” you give him attitude, though you’re practically breathless.

“have you really thought this through?” chris asks, pressing up against you so you can actually feel how hard he is.

you’re already pulsing, and his fingers dance back and forth across your stomach lightly. even with your shirt as a barrier, it’s too nice.

you nod in response, and his hand slides up your arm and over your shoulder, fingernails barely raking against your skin as he goes. chris grips your throat, and you push against him for some sort of friction, for anything.

“tell me you want it.” he demands, squeezing just a bit harder.

“you want it.” you manage to taunt, grabbing his arm and guiding it down your chest to the bottom of your shirt.

his hand slides underneath the tight fabric, back up your stomach, traveling to massage your left tit slowly. his thumb ghosts over your nipple, and you arch your back into him involuntarily.

“fuck.” you gasp quietly.

“no bra, huh? just for me?”

chris twitches against your ass, attaching his lips to your neck hungrily. his tongue slides against the sensitive skin, teeth digging into the flesh where your throat meets your collar.

his hand switches places, and he drags the pads of his fingers across your other nipple in a tantalizing pattern. the sensation of his touch and his mouth at the same time is bliss, and you let out a moan of pleasure.

“always wondered what you sounded like, you fuckin angel.” he praises, grinding his hips against you.

just feeling his length, pressing right against your core through the fabric of your yoga pants, makes you incredibly wet. he’d be shocked to find you’re not wearing underwear either.

you guide his hand back out from underneath your shirt so you can flip over again, sitting up slightly as you move to straddle him. he’s already bucking up into you, whining from the feeling of being underneath your hips.

“don’t tease me. i’ve waited too long for this.” chris pulls your arm down so he can give you an actual kiss.

his lips are soft, molding against yours desperately as his hands grip your ass. you rock against him as his tongue slides against yours, and he groans into your mouth.

“god, i love hearing that.” you admit against his lips.

you pull away so you can lift his shirt over his head, trailing your long manicured nails down his chest slowly, right along his happy trail. he throws his head back against the pillows, relishing in the feeling.

you can tell he’s growing frustrated though, and suddenly he grabs you by your waist, throwing you down so your back hits the mattress.

chris helps you out of your top like it’s a race, tossing it to the floor with his other clothes. he positions himself over you, capturing your lips with his hungrily.

you bring your hands up; one tugging at the curly strands of hair on the back of his neck, the other clawing at his back.

he likes this, smiling into you before biting down on your bottom lip harshly. chris pulls away, pressing kisses down your throat, down the valley of your chest, but not without moving his tongue back and forth against each nipple at least a few times.

it makes you writhe, hands tangling in his sheets as he continues.

“jesus, chris.” you’re basically whimpering.

he stops right at the top of your leggings, looking up at you from between your thighs like he’s asking for permission.

you lift your hips as an answer, and he tugs the slick material down over your feet. the air hits you, and you can feel how embarrassingly ready you are.

chris lowers himself to you again, pushing your legs apart with both palms.

“you’re so pretty, ma. so fucking wet for me, too.” he mumbles, kissing and nipping at your hip, down your inner thigh, right next to where you need him most.

ma. he’s never called you that before, and you like it way more than you should.

without warning, he slides his tongue flat against your pussy in one long stripe. his lips come down around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against it slowly.

“holy shit—” you gasp, and your fingers tangle in his hair again, tugging at his roots as he buries his face further.

you’d been given head before, but it never actually felt good until now. chris’s fingers grip your thighs as he continues to force them apart, tongue moving up and down against your center at a faster pace now.

you can feel the pressure building, but you know you want more. you want to make him feel good too.

“oh my god baby.” the pet name slips out without even thinking, your head is so fuzzy with pleasure.

“fuck, call me that again.” he pulls away just enough to speak coherently.

“i need you inside me, baby, please.” you beg desperately.

“so ready for me, so eager.” he practically growls, sitting up so he can yank off his sweatpants, tugging his boxers down with them.

his dick is just as big as it felt, definitely the biggest you’ve seen in person, which is a little scary. he puts a hand to your mouth, turning your head to the side slightly.

“spit.”

fuck, this is hot.

you happily do as your told, and he pulls his hand back to spread it around his dick. his other arm goes to prop your one leg up as he aligns himself at your entrance.

chris pushes in slowly, and you both let out a long moan at the same time. you can feel him stretching you, and it takes a minute for you to adjust to his full length.

“fuck…” he says in that breathy voice you love so much.

he moves out, then back in, steadily picking up his pace as you get more comfortable. you have to give it to him, the kid knows how to use his hips.

“mmm…you feel so good around me,” chris grumbles, lifting your leg a little higher.

he hits a new spot, and it sends delicious waves of pleasure through your body.

“yes, right there!” your eyes screw shut, and his free hand goes to reach for your tits.

“fuck ma, i can feel you squeezing. taking it just like a good girl.”

such a pretty mouth saying such dirty things, things you didn’t think you’d ever in a million years hear from your friend. and yet, it feels exactly like it should.

he’s practically pounding into you now, and the little noises he makes drive you crazy. his free hand shifts so his thumb rubs against your clit, and you feel your core seize up.

“chris!” you cry out, and that damn smirk crosses his face again.

“tell em, angel. tell them exactly who you want.”

his fingers feel so good combined with his strokes, and this time the building pressure in your stomach is too much. you know you don’t have a lot longer left as your body begins to shudder.

“fuck, chris, i’m so close—”

“just a little longer, hang on for me.” he says, movements growing sloppier as he reaches his own peak.

his nails dig into the skin of your thigh, a bit of pain that is not unwelcomed. chris circles his other fingers around you faster, and you let out an even louder gasp.

“i’m—”

“fuck, me too. come on baby, come all over me.” he cuts you off, and you feel him twitch inside of you as he finishes with a groan.

“shit!” you ride out your own high, releasing onto his dick as he slows to a stop. you’re both completely breathless and sweaty as he pulls out, and you immediately feel at loss.

he leans down to give you a little peck before collapsing beside you.

“i’ve seriously dreamed about that so many times.” chris says, arm splayed across his chest as he stares into your eyes.

you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. “stop it.”

he’s quiet for a moment, and you peek through your fingers to look at him.

“you know this means more to me, right? you mean more to me.” he speaks softly, like he’s scared of how you’ll react.

you finally reveal yourself again, smiling more widely than you’d care to admit.

“good, cuz the feelings mutual.”

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #oneshot

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chaosisalwayscrying · 10 months ago

Text

NSFW ABC’S

⇥ synopsis : nsfw abcs for chris (my man)

⇥ warnings : smut/suggestive themes

⇥ extra : this is also late but my mom has not left me alone long enough to actually write these on time 😭😭

⇥ masterlist !

⇥ taglist !

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

hes so good at aftercare!! like he is so so gentle. asks before pulling out and SPRINTS to get a rag to clean you up with, or if youd prefer he turns on the shower and helps you get clean before dressing you

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

chris loves his hair, he loves how you tug on it as hes eating you out, and he loves the way you play with it when hes draped on your chest

chris loves your ass and hips. he loves the way your ass jiggles when you walk up the stairs from his room, loves the way it bounces when you ride him, and he loves seeing his handprints on it

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

never used condoms, youve been on bc since chris suggested starting to have sex. he obviously asked you about condoms multiple times in the middle of sex, scared youd changed your mind and he just forgot (bless his heart)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

LOVES LOVES LOVES when you blindfold him. loves not knowing whats gonna happen, he also loves how it heightens his other senses

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

had 2 bodies before you, so he had some experience under his belt, but he still asked you what you were comfortable with

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy and reverse cowgirl. backshots are his absolute favorite thing ever because he can easily smack your ass and grip your hips hard as hell. he also loves watching your ass bounce as you bounce on him im reverse cowgirl, turns him on so bad

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

nothing is serious to chris, hes cracking jokes left and right. only sometimes will he let it be more serious

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

hes shaved not bald. has DEFINITELY let you use wax to make designs in his hair 😭😭

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

can be romantic but doesnt do it often, hes not very good at it. praises you to the max to make up for it when hes trying to be more serious 😇

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he did it a LOT before you got together, but now that youre together he doesnt as much anymore. you do enjoy sending him nudes so he can send you videos of him jerking off in return tho

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

mommy kink ‼️ he calls you ma outside of the bedroom anyway, but if hes feeling like being a sub hes whining out mommy every other word and LORD ITS HOT

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

anywhere. if matt and nick are gone, hes a big fan of bending you over the kitchen table. in public he will literally follow you into the dressing rooms and press you up against the mirror

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

literally anything. if its a serious situation hes not even thinking like that, but accidentally look at him the wrong way and hes hard, squat to get something, hes hard, change in front of him, hes hard. (bless his horny little heart)

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)

brat taming, doesnt like the idea of punishing you or having you act a certain way 24/7

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

this man could happily spend a year of his life buried between your legs. will literally eat you out until youre spent beyond belief. he doesnt mind you sucking his dick but he would much rather have you bouncing on it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

fast and rough 95% of the time, but he can absolutely be slow and sensual if thats what you want. his pace depends all on you, you say go faster? hes going faster immediately. you say slow down? hes slowing down without a complaint and pressing a kiss to whatever bit of exposed skin he can

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

LOVES LOVES LOVES QUICKIES. at a party? youre going to the first bathroom he can see without a line. at the mall? dressing room. at a restaurant? bathroom.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

chris isnt opposed to experimenting, hes down to try most things once, but he does have a list of hard nos.

however, he will take as many risks as he possibly can that youre ok with

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

3 or 4, doing so many sports as a kid paid off because he has an insane amount of stamina. can go three rounds without even faltering, sometimes the fourth isnt possible cause he gets tired, but if hes REALLY horny he can go for four

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he owns none but you own a dildo and vibrator. he likes using them on you to tease you, and he likes watching them use them on yourself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

chris loves to tease but if he can see you arent feeling it he stops without you having to say anything (hes observed all your signs during and not during sex so he can read you like a book)

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

sort of loud. if hes giving you backshots hes grunting and groaning but hes not being quiet about it, and if youre riding him, hes moaning and groaning and whining loud

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

saw a tiktok about this couple doing a clone-a-willy, and very eagerly asked you if you would what that 😭 (clone-a-willy is this thing where you make a silicone mold of your dick and mail it to the company to make a dildo out of and they send it back)

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

CHRIS IS THICK. he isnt too long but the thickness makes up for it. definitely needs to stretch you before even thinking about putting his dick in you 😭

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

9/10, dude is ALWAYS HORNY, but he knows when to be serious and can go from 9/10 to 0/10 real quick

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

falls asleep so fast, but he would never let himself fall asleep before you were both back in bed and comfortable.

⇥ TAGS !

@sturnioloshacker @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hertvgirl @cupidzsq @sturnnie @leah-loves-lilies @billkaulitz0630 @sturniolololover @stqrnstars @cicicinquistausa @tylerthecreatorsrealwife

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cosyvelvetorchid · 7 months ago

Note

prompt: buck has to take a rain check on an upcoming date with tommy because dr. salazar (heart doctor) wants buck to come in for his year review check after his lightning strike injuries, buck tells tommy and tommy offers to go with buck, tommy makes discoveries of wot buck went through during his coma and recovery, buck’s ecmo scars on his neck and the healed burns on his hands are talked about, buck has to wear the holter monitor again

That was such a great idea for a prompt. Thank you ❤️

As always you can send a bucktommy prompt to my ask. If you've sent one and it hasn't been answered yet, just sit tight - just means ive not yet got the full idea of what to write yet but it definitely will get answered.

********

Organising dates with Tommy was like a military operation. They had only been on 4 so far (if you count Bucks bad coffee apology meet, which buck absolutely does). Their often conflicting shifts made it difficult to carve out time, but they both very much wanted to put the effort in to see eachother.

Buck was excited for their 5th date tomorrow. It was a breakfast date. Well, technically dinner date for Tommy as he would be coming off shift but they were both excited nonetheless. That was until Buck got a reminder email of his one year heart check up post lightening strike. His heart sank when he realised and he called Tommy.

"Hey Evan." Buck could hear the smile on his face and though his heart was a little sunk, it swelled.

"Hey Tommy. Is this a good time? You're not on a call?"

"It's fine. Just giving the chopper a clean. Patient had a nasty hemorrhage this morning. Whats up?"

"I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have raincheck our breakfast date tomorrow."

"Oh." The disappointment was clear in his tone. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I uh, totally forgot I have an appointment with Dr Salazar my heart doctor."

"Are you okay? Have you been having palpations?"

Every time I look at you, or hear your voice, or think about you.

"No, no nothing like that - I feel fine. Its just a check up. It being a year since the uh.." Buck found the words difficult to say, though wasn't sure why. Most of the time he could talk about it, but sometimes the reality of what happened really hit him and he found it difficult.

"Lightning strike." Tommy finished for him. "Well it's a perfectly reasonable reason to raincheck so don't worry."

"Thanks Tommy." Buck said, relieved.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Tommy asked. Buck didn't expect that. They hadn't been dating long - Buck wasn't even sure if he could call himself Tommy's boyfriend yet. He wanted to of course but they hadn't had that conversation yet. But he wasn't sure if he was asking because he wanted to be there or it was out of some kind of obligation.

"Thanks but it's fine. They're probably just going to scan me and tell me I'm in top shape." He forced a laugh at the end. Truthfully he was worried. He wasn't lying about feeling fine - he really did - but he thought he was fine when he had mild pain in his leg which turned out to be blood clots that almost killed him.

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

"Yeah I'm sure." He wasn't sure but didn't want to feel like a some scared kid. Tommy was a strong, stoic man - He would probably be turned off watching Buck worry.

***

Buck groaned in his sleep at the noise. It happened again and he begrudgingly opened his eyes. The third time he realised it was someone knocking on his door. He looked at his phone and cursed to himself seeing that it was just past 5am. Who the hell knocks on the door at 5am?!

He slowly and heavily made his way down the stairs to the door.

"Tommy? What are you doing here? I thought your shift didn't finish for a other two hours?" He stepped aside to let him in. "Is everything okay?"

"I got off early, and no." He stated. Nerves hit Bucks stomach.

"W-why?"

"Because, you're worried about your heart appointment and you didn't tell me." Buck opened his mouth to respond but Tommy stopped him. "And before you argue, I could tell by the tone in your voice. So, I got off work early so that we can have still have our breakfast date, and then I can go with you to your appointment. Even if you just want me to wait in the car."

Buck wanted to tell him not to come. Not because he didn't want him there - he actually did. In the short time they'd known eachother Tommy made him feel safe; like things would be okay.

It was more that he wasn't used to people showing up for him. At least when it came to love interests. He'd always felt like he was a burden. In an odd way it made him feel uncomfortable. But Tommy hadn't made him feel like it was hard to be there for him. More than once he had proven himself by showing up. Buck knew he had let go.

"I'd really like that. Thank you."

"Of course." Tommy replied, showing those beautiful crinkles around his eyes that Buck would crawl into if he could.

***

A few hours later they were sat in Dr Salazars office. Buck has initially said he'd be fine alone and Tommy could wait in the car. But changed his mind last minute when a wave of nerves made its way through him. Tommy simply took his hand and walked into the hospital with him.

They'd taken his blood, scanned his heart and asked him a thousand questions. All that he was waiting for now was the results. His leg was bouncing as he sat waiting for her to come into her office. Tommy didn't say anything, just placed a hand on his knee. Bucks leg immediately stopped dancing at the touch. The feel of the warmth of tommys hand calmed him.

"Well, Evan.." She said walking in an sitting across her desk from them. "..everything seems to look fine. Bloods, scans have all come back normal."

Buck sighed and visibly relaxed.

"I just have a couple more questions to ask." She said.

"Okay."

"How are your hands? Are you experiencing any pain or tenderness?" She asked. Buck looked at his palms. You could barely notice the stars anymore. A fact which relieved Buck.

"Uh fine, really. The skin sometimes feels a bit tight but only if I'm feeling really hot" He admitted.

"Thats to be expected. When our bodies get warmer they expand and the skin tightens. It can take a while for the lower layers of dermis to fully heel so it might feel litter tighter for a while but it's nothing to worry about."

"Great." Buck said, relieved again.

"And what about the scar on your neck from the ecmo? How is that?" Buck instinctively reached up and palmed the area. It was barely noticeable now. Just a small round patch of skin a shade or two light then his skin tone.

"It's fine. No trouble there at all."

"Good. Well, there's one more thing I need from you today." She opened her drawer and removed a device placing it on the desk. "I need you to wear the holter moniter again for 24 hours."

"Do I have to?" He complained.

"Well you can say no, but it will be against medical advice and you will feel my personal derision. I know its a pain, but it's important to really make sure your heart is doing what it should be doing."

"He'll wear it." Tommy told her without even looking at him. It triggered a strange mix of feelings within Buck. Part of him was annoyed that Tommy was making the decision for him, but he also felt a warm feeling within him at seeing Tommy care that he do the right thing for his health.

"Yeah." He said.

"Good. Now you know the rules: no using the microwave or your cell phone for the entire time you're wearing it. Okay?"

"I remember."

"Good. Then i will see you tomorrow when you bring this back."

***

Buck was quiet on the car ride back to his apartment and for a while when they went inside.

"You okay?" Tommy asked

"I'm fine."

"Evan." Tommy chastised. Someone in the apartment above dropped something and a loud bang rang out. Buck instantly jumped at the sound. His eyes met with Tommy's. His face awash with fear which quickly turned to embarrassment. Tommy immediately walked over and put his arms around him.

"You're okay. I promise." His voice was soft and calming. Buck softened into the hug and held onto Tommy tightly.

"I'm not going to push you, but when you're ready you can tell me." Buck felt Tommy's fingers delicately trace lines in the hair at the base of his head. He tried to remember if any of his exes had ever done something so simple like that to comfort him and he couldn't.

Tommy was quite tactile, Buck had noticed. A hand on his back as we walks past, a thumb circling his hand while they watch a movie, or a hand on his leg as they talk after dinner. Buck had always like that in a parnter, being that he was a big physical touch person.

"Sometimes I forget that it happened and then something happens and I'm reminded again." He loosened himself from Tommy and stepped back to lift himself onto the counter. Tommy stepped forward standing just between his knees and no closer. He wanted to give buck not just the emotional space but the physical space to talk.

"It's funny - i don't remember the getting struck or the pain. At least not now. For a while everytime I looked at my hands I would remember." His hands were palm up as he looked at them; the skin just a little pinker where the scars were. Tommy gently took Bucks hands from underneath and brought each one to his face to placed a soft kiss on each palm.

It was an act so full of delicacy and love that Buck almost burst into tears. Tommy looked back up at him with a soft sympathetic face. A face that told him it was okay to talk.

"What I really remember when I woke up was how i felt. Like, everything was different even though nothing had changed. But I had. I couldn't tell you how and I still can't. I'm just.. different. I had the weirdest dreams when I was in the coma. They felt so visceral; so real. For weeks i had this sense of dread all the time, like the other shoe was going to drop and i was going to realise that i was still in the coma and nothing was real." Tommy gently stroked Bucks legs as he continued.

"You know for a while i had this checklist I would perform every morning. First I would check the time- the dreams all happened at night so if it was morning I'd know that I was awake. Then I'd text Bobby. I'm sure it was annoying for him but he always texted me back. I just had to be sure that everything was real. I'll have moments sometimes during the day where I'll have these phantom pains in my scar on my neck and for a split second I think 'what if I'm dreaming and the pain is from the ecmo machine still attached to me?'. That's really weird I know." He looked down feeling a hint of embarrassment. Tommy probably thought he was being ridiculous.

Instead Tommy reached up, placing his hand on one side of Bucks neck and softly pressing his lips against the scar on the other side. It wasn't heated or had any sexual connotations to it - it was sweet and loving. It was Tommy telling buck that these scars are part of who is and they're beautiful. Buck closed his eyes and just breathed. He let go and allowed Tommy to just simply care for him.

"Is it okay that I did that?" Tommy asked quietly.

"Always." Buck replied looking into to Tommy's soft, warm eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" Tommy asked.

"Honestly? That I'm glad we haven't got the sex stage yet. If my heartrate now is anything to go by Dr Salazar is already going to think im having a heart attack." Tommy threw his head back and laughed heartily. Buck had seen him laugh before, even giggle, but never had he elicited a real, loud, belly laugh.

Buck felt a sense of pride at Tommy's response. And there was something else there too. Something weaving its way around under the surface of his skin. Something warm that made his stomach swoop and heart buzz. It wasn't quite near enough to lean into yet, but it was close. And getting closer every day.

#tommy kinard #buck x tommy #bucktommy #911 abc #911 buck #evan buckley #911 #911onabc #evan buck buckely #911 spoilers #bucktommy fic #bucktommy prompts #bucktommy prompt #thomas kinard #evan buck buckley #cvo prompts

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jjasen · 2 years ago

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fireworks

request: due to popular request, I decided to give sleepless nights a sequel ❀

summary: hooking up with rafe at the cameron’s fourth of july party

warnings: smut (somewhat dark!rafe), 18+, minors do not interact

word count: 2k

a/n: if you already saw this pretend you didn’t! (I forgot to put tags and was wondering why nobody was interacting with it)

You’re out on the balcony, leaning on the railing as you wait for the annual Fourth of July fireworks show. The Camerons always host a party as Tannyhill has a good view of the patriotic display, and this year is no different. People from all around Figure Eight mill around, eating canapés and lounging in the pool. Rose really outdid herself this year - children snack on watermelon cut into perfect stars, their parents sip on cocktails from the open bar, and there’s beautifully expensive patio seating for the best view of the fireworks over the bay, framed nicely by oak trees draped in Spanish moss and string lights.

The view from the balcony is somewhat obscured by the tree line, but you prefer its relative quiet to the mingling below on the lawn. This was the first time you had been invited back to Tannyhill since you and Rafe had hooked up earlier that month. Perhaps it was paranoia, but ever since, Sarah had seemed to withdraw from your friendship. From everyone, really: both Topper and Wheezie had expressed to you their concern for her.

A shiver runs down your spine and you become acutely aware that you are being watched. You glance over your shoulder to find Rafe leaning on the balcony’s doorframe, looking you over with a sultry gaze. He takes a drink from the crystal tumbler in his hand, though it’s mostly ice, and sets it down, moving closer to you.

“You’re looking real pretty tonight, sweetheart,” he drawls, a hungry gleam in his eyes. You know what he really means.

“We can’t. Listen, Rafe, that night was a mistake,” you say. Even if you couldn’t stop thinking about him fucking you ever since, you thought.

He narrows his cerulean eyes at you and tilts his head. “Was it?” He steps closer to you, caging you against the balcony railing with his arms. He whispers into your ear, the sensation of his hot breath sending shivers across your skin. “Was it a mistake when you were moaning my name? Was it a mistake when you left scratches on my back while I was fucking you so hard you didn’t know your own name?”

You tremble and squeeze your eyes shut, praying that the hot coil of desire in your stomach disappears. He nods and smiles cruelly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, sweetheart.” He brings one hand down to cup the swell of your backside, pressing you into the muscular planes of his abdomen.

“Sarah’s my best friend,” you whisper. He doesn’t care, of course. Perhaps it adds to the thrill. He presses hot, feverish kisses your bare neck, and with each one you melt further into his embrace. He bites down gently into the sensitive skin of your nape, and you moan into the warm July night air. Your hand flies up to cover your mouth, and heat flushes into your cheeks.

“Better be quiet, unless you want everyone to know what a good slut you are for me, darling,” Rafe taunts. He’s achingly hard already; you can feel him twitching impatiently even through the fabric of his slacks and the thin linen skirt of your sundress.

“You’re such a fucking dick, Cameron,” you breathe. He only smiles with that stupid insufferable smirk of his and runs a hand through his hair.

“God, I can’t wait to have you on your knees, choking on my cock with that dirty mouth,” he says, amused. He undoes his belt, freeing his erection and nipping at your neck one last time before looking down at you expectantly, blue eyes glinting coolly, demandingly. Slowly, you sink to your knees, never breaking eye contact, and palm his heavy cock, lapping at a pearl of pre-cum from his tip demurely.

Taking in just the tip, you swirl and sweep your tongue over his purplish head until Rafe’s breath goes ragged. He fists your hair, throwing his head back and parting his lips with pleasure, sending a jolt of arousal between your thighs. “Just like that, baby,” he groans, his hips flexing as he thrusts into you, his eyelids hooded with lust and gaze dark with desire. His tip kisses the back of your throat as you coax more and more of his hard length into your mouth, and he’s so aroused that his cock throbs each time you brush over his sensitive frenulum.

“Fuck! Okay, okay, stop,” he laughs, jerking his hips back to pull out from your mouth before he can come. He helps you up and you rest your forearms are resting on the balcony’s metal railing, facing the view of the fireworks. The show is just beginning, effervescent sparks of red and gold lighting up the night sky. You expect Rafe to zip up his pants and return to the party. Instead, he rolls on a condom and reaches under the skirt of your dress, pulling the cotton of your panties aside. He rubs the tip of his impossibly warm cock against your slit, which is slick with arousal. You gasp in surprise.

“Here?” you breathe, chest heaving with apprehensive lust.

“Don’t worry,” he grins, “the noise from the fireworks will drown out whatever noises you make.” Your scowl quickly turns into a wanton moan as he pushes into you, the blissful stretch of his thick cock making you hiss with satisfaction. You wait for his heavy hand to press into the curve of your back, for his relentless thrusts, but Rafe simply goes still, the only movement the slight throbs and twitches of his cock inside of you.

“Why’d you stop?” Your question is less of a query than a crestfallen whimper, almost imperceptible over the crackling flares of the fireworks.

“Because I want you to beg,” he murmurs, lips brushing across the shell of your ear. His breath is heady and sinful against your neck and it only serves to increase your state of frustrated arousal.

“Please,” you moan, rocking your hips back and forth, aching for friction against your swollen clit. He grabs your hips roughly, forcing you to stop your movement.

“You can do better than that,” he rasps, nipping at the column of your neck teasingly. “I said beg.”

You move to glance over your shoulder and glare at him, but he swipes over your throbbing clit and you shudder, pleasure pulsing down your spine, and relent. “Please, Rafe, I need you,” whisper, and he begins fucking into you punishingly, painfully slow. “Harder, please, please,” you mewl. You grip the wrought iron railing tightly and bite down on your bottom lip as he begins pounding into you, rough with raw desire.

He thrusts into you so hard, so ruthlessly that your words choke in your throat and all you can do is moan helplessly. The pleasure of Rafe completely filling you and circling his thumb over your clit is incandescently euphoric, the waves of pleasure jolting through your body brighter than the fireworks that burst and glitter in the velvety night sky. Every nerve ending in the sensitive nub throbs when he swipes over it, and you can feel the slick of your arousal begin to drip down your thighs. Each time a firework explodes, you flinch a little at the sound, causing you to pulse around his cock, and he groans, throwing his head back.

“Fuck! I’m close,” Rafe rasps as his thrusting begins to get sloppier. He bucks his hips one, two, three more times until you feel him spilling into you, filling you with warmth. You begin to shudder with the beginning of your orgasm just as the finale of the fireworks display starts, and you cry out, a high pitched moan that sounds vaguely like Rafe’s name while the air reverberates with the crackling bursts of colorful sparks. Red, gold, green, and blue shimmers blaze through the sky as you bask in the glow of your own orgasm, your legs trembling around Rafe’s length. Sultry pulses of bliss radiate throughout your body.

Your chests heaving, Rafe pulls out and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, mussing his tawny hair artfully. You smooth your own hair back into place and run your hands over the skirt of your dress and dab at your lips, hoping that your gloss hasn’t smudged too much.

Like last time, Rafe is the first to leave. He pulls on his pants and calls back over his shoulder, “Meet me back downstairs in five minutes.” He doesn’t wait for a response before disappearing, the only trace left of him the slight scent of sandalwood and oakmoss clinging to the linen of your sundress. Despite his detached tone and general air of disinterest, you’re strangely drawn to him, although it is abundantly clear he has no inclination to know you further than the shape of your body. After waiting a few minutes, you follow his path downstairs and look around for a glimpse of brilliant blue eyes or his broad shoulders.

Instead, you hear someone call out your name and you whirl around to find Sarah in a blue floral tank top and linen shorts. She looks uncharacteristically nervous, twirling a stray lock of her honey-blonde hair and glancing around. Grabbing your hand, she whispers to you, “I have to tell you something,” and drags you to a far corner of the lawn under an oak tree. She sits down on the grass with no regard to staining her white shorts, and after a moment’s hesitation you follow suit.

Sarah looks down and fiddles with her necklace. “I know I’ve been kind of m.i.a. this summer,” she begins with a sigh. “And I’m sorry, I really am, babes.” She looks at you with uncertainty in her eyes. “I’ve…well, there’s no way else to put it. I’ve kind of been hanging out with John B.”

“John B? As in the guy who works on your boat?” you ask, arching a brow. Sarah runs a hand through her hair, scenting the night air with her honeysuckle perfume. She smiles sheepishly at you and nods, focusing her gaze somewhere faraway. “He’s really…I really like him. It’s different with him.”

You look at Sarah, the gentle curve of her smile, the way the corner of her mouth twitches fondly at some unspoken memory of John B, taking note of the lightness of the curve of her shoulders, as if an immense weight has been taken off her chest. Clearly, she is happy, and who are you to question that?

She shakes her head, bringing herself back to the present. “Anyways, babes, how have you been? I feel like I’ve been such a bad best friend lately,” she says, brown eyes full of guilt. Couldn’t be worse than sleeping with her brother, you think to yourself ruefully. A pit of guilt begins to form in your stomach at her innocently inquisitive gaze.

“I-” you begin, glancing back at the party. You catch the eye of Rafe, who is watching you, casually sipping from his amber drink. His gaze is hardened, full of warning.

“Nothing much, really,” you mumble, looking down at your lap. You recall the delicious stretch of Rafe’s length inside of you, the scent of his bare skin, the hot, open-mouthed kisses he would press to your neck. The way he had, not even one hour ago, demanded that you beg for his thick cock. “It’s nothing,” you reaffirm. It’s everything, everything, you think.

#rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron outer banks #jjasewrites

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dear-ao3 · 2 months ago

Note

hi it's me the person from like a week ago who's writing that college paper about f1 i was gonna respond and then i immediately forgot lol. the paper is on the different media strategies and narratives of the fia, teams, drivers, gp locations, etc, and how they interact with each other. and also how the ways liberty media and the fia are marketing the sport and drawing in new fans is actually alienating people and suppressing the authenticity of the sport. especially post drive to survive.

i'm a comms major lol i am a massive public relations nerd

also a couple questions: idk how well versed you are in business stuff but how would you say f1 has changed its branding, especially pre liberty media to now? and how were drivers marketed before the era of portraying them as like,, pop stars? when was that shift? also if you have any specific examples (or places i could find examples) related to that stuff or sexism in f1 or just how f1 tries to control the narrative i would appreciate it because jesus christ the lack of research is terrible

ok dump over the essays not due for another like 3 weeks but when its done i can send it to you if you want to read it :)

aaaaa this got lost in my ask box i hope i’m not too late posting it :/ unfortunately i have no real sources for you. i know the shift was post drive to survive, but i think it also depends on the country because like f1 hasn’t really been a huge Thing in the us, but like ferrari has been italys second religion for years. so it might make sense if you focused it on a country. like in the time since dts first released they added two more us gps: miami (2022) and las vegas (2023). i know there’s a lot of british bias, especially by sky sports and sometimes in the penalties as well. i think fernando alonso called that out this year (?) and max also usually mentions it a few times (at brazil this year he definitely called out the british press) i know there’s also interviews of drivers saying post dts people recognized them way more (maybe this was daniel? or lando?) but some of them really like it (daniel) and some of them don’t (like max) you could also play the angle from social media, like george used to i know at least run his own twitter way back in the day (might have been pre f1 but i think he was still running it loosely in 2019 or at least tweeting himself) and now he doesn’t really touch social media At All cause of the comments he gets. lando used to run most of his own social media also until i think like 2020? 2021? (as in i don’t think he had a social media team) before he passed it off to someone else, though i know he still goes on for sure. i think a lot of them definitely cleaned up their media presence post dts (like lewis was certainly a pr nightmare at one point earlier in his career which a lot of people don’t realize or remember and we’re not even going to talk about fernando alonso). the sport has gotten more tame for sure over the years, they used to get away with doing and saying way more but that could also just be a general cultural shift, there’s also i know pockets of people who are like oh this sport used to be so respectful and manly and blah blah blah and like. there’s photos of michael schumacher at a party in a wedding dress. david coulthard used to pretend to kiss his teammates on the lips in front of the cameras. as for sexism, there have been female drivers before, usually only doing short stints. i know susie wolff has talked about this with the f1 academy how pretty much only lewis consistently shows up to support it. i think max (?) said earlier this year that academy is great but if they want them to make it to f1 they need to give them faster cars. there’s also the whole horner fiasco from earlier this year.

idk if any of this is useful. or if you’ve already turned in your paper. in any case, good luck :)

#not a tag #from saph #f1

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crsssie · 6 months ago

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from one admirer to another : how do you like your eggs?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear scrambled eggs:

it feels strange to write to someone in such a format, but I suppose I should get used to it. We got paired up via from one admirer to another because of our shared passion for Ada Wong. I find it a little amusing that someone else just straight-up put a model's name instead of modeling on its own, but I'm glad you did.

As an ada stan, I feel the need to ask this immediately. How did you feel about her helicopter shoot? I'm hoping you aren't some weird stan like those... yeah. Also, while on that topic, if you're really as die-hard as me when I have free time, you should read glhf <3 by okaokra on ao3. It's gender-neutral, it's a great fic, unless, of course, you're too normal for reading fanfiction. In that case, maybe we can find another middle ground aside from Ada Wong.

Right, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm user Christmas, a weird translation + twisting of my real name. I live in Raccoon City, and I model as a part-time job because of ... you guessed it, Ada. My dream role is to model with her, but considering that I'm only a local model, this is truly out of my reach. Maybe some strike of luck will help me?

I used to dream of being a cop until I got scouted off the street by some guy for modeling. Do you think I suit it? Who am I kidding, you have no idea what I even look like. Maybe you pass me on the covers of local magazines all the time if you live nearby. I'm not nearly as famous as Ada Wong, though, so I suppose I can never truly call myself a big model until I become someone like her. Even then, she's not a supermodel.

Tell me more about yourself, maybe? What's your favorite holiday? How do you like your eggs in the morning? Do you even eat eggs? Why the name "scrambled eggs" over anything else? What do you do in your free time— oh, I should answer that question.

I seldom have free time lately, but I feel like all I've been doing late is reading the fic that I mentioned earlier. Oh, right, hopefully you enjoy the sticker I got from a fan gathering. I did a little bit of research, and it seems pretty normal to send your penpal small trinkets in the letters, so we'll start with a sticker.

I thought the mail would be digital, and then I was notified that you would prefer physical mail — which, to be fair, I'm not complaining about. I think it would be funny to open a box of letters exchanged between a penpal and I 10 years down the line. Who knows, maybe you'll even be at my wedding.

Right, my apologies for a long first letter, but I'm excited to be starting this.

signing off, Christmas

Leon sends the mail the next morning, rubbing his eyes slowly as he rides the public transport to his next shoot, waving good morning to his manager as he sips on his coffee, hair blushed back and gelled, formal clothes handed to him. Leon finds that he doesn't really suit clothes like this, but for the camera, he puts up with just about everything. He finds it interesting that he would be modeling in clothes he hadn't liked wearing all that much.

"You have another shoot later today, and then you're off for the rest of the weekdays. You have another shoot over the weekend."

Leon nods, blinking slowly as the coffee shoots through his system and he's revived magically. It feels unreal. He's working as a model despite finishing the police academy at the top of his class. Is this what delusion and some sweet talking from a random agent can do to a person? It feels a little wasteful to let his training turn into this, but he's not complaining all that much. Yet. he meets eyes with the model he's supposed to be posing with, blinking in surprise. Wow. That appearance is lethal.

He waves at you, giving you a small smile as you wave back, smiling back.

"New?"

"Mm... moreso someone who doesn't like booking. My manager booked this months in advance, so I'm here." You stay still as the makeup artist finishes with you, Leon raising a brow as you give him a cheeky grin.

"Did you leave before your makeup was finished?"

"I wanted to meet you. I heard I was modeling with someone pretty well-known." You grin. "Leon Kennedy, was it?"

"Yes. Am I that big now?"

"Mm... you're quite a name amongst us local models." You tap your chin. "It's quite an honor modeling with you. I heard you have deadly biceps."

"Well, you can't see them through the suit."

"It comes off, no? I'll just fix it." You tilt your head.

"And how do I know you won't jump my bones?"

"Oh, please. I'm your coworker right now. I'm not someone sketchy." You roll your eyes, helping him free an arm as he flexes for you. You blink at his arms, raising a brow as you stare up at him. "Can I squeeze?"

"As long are you're not weird about it."

You grab his bicep, giving it a squeeze as you nod slowly. "God, I need your arm routine. You got a trainer? I'd like to get that contact."

Leon rolls his eyes, fighting the blush that threatens to creep up his neck from your skin contact. God, what is he? fourteen? Get a grip, Leon. "Gotta get that from my manager, then."

"Shame." You sigh, helping him put the suit jacket back. "Maybe the next time I bump into you, I'll have biceps of a greek god too."

"Leon, model two! You two are up!"

"Wow, they don't even name you?"

"Maybe I just like being mysterious."

start : masterlist : next letter

#leon kennedy x reader #☾.oata #leon x reader #feels necessary to make mention... YOU KNOW THEY'RE PENPALS BUT THEY DO NOT.#also i know leon would never realistically leave the police academy for modeling with his backstory but SHHHH

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puck-luck · 3 months ago

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all roads | mattias samuelsson

warnings: use of Y/N, miserable situationship, terrible cycles being repeated, more angst and thought daughter than smut and thot daughter (my b), spit, unprotected p in v, gaslighting, slight choking, fingering, oral fem!receiving, hickeys, mentions of drunk mattias, heavy on the EVIL mattias on this one… your honor i need him pairing: mattias samuelsson x fem!reader summary: fem!reader finds herself going through the motions of a confusing situationship with mattias, eventually attempting to break free of the cycle. wc: 4861

title and content based off this song

Can I come over? the text reads.

You stare at the message, thinking about the possibilities for a moment. You toy with it for a second like a proud cat who finally caught her nemesis of a mouse, letting it go just to step on its tail and capture it again. The possibility that you’re playing with is, of course, that you’ll tell Mattias ‘No.’

As much as saying no would bring you power, it’ll never work. Mattias will come over anyway. He’s probably already on the way, knowing that you’ll say yes because you always say yes to him. You always say yes and you always regret it the morning after.

You say yes. Mattias comes over. He pretends to watch the show that you’d thrown on while eating dinner, then he makes his move and you fuck. He comes, you come, he leaves. You have to change your sheets at 2am because they’re covered in sweat, cum, and spit. You forgot to lay down a towel, which is what you promised yourself you would do last time. It’s 3am by the time you go to bed and Mattias, once again, forgot to text you that he got home safe.

The cycle repeats.

Your friends have been here since the beginning of this relationship– relationship, as if you can even call it that…– and they’re getting tired of it. You can’t count the times they’ve said, “Y/N, he’s not good for you” or “Y/N, you deserve better than him.” From them, the sentiment comes so often that the truth of it has worn off. You’ve taken to responding with a groaned “I know” or an unsubstantiated “he’s been better lately!” or even a vague lie about how Mattias told you that he wants this to be more.

You’ve been able to believe your own lies, caught up in the whirlwind of emotions, until you couldn’t anymore. Just last week, after Mattias came to visit you over your fall break from grad school and you hooked up in the backseat of his car after dinner with your parents, your mom spoke up.

“It really seems like you like him, Y/N,” she said while drying the last of the dishes.

You were sat at the kitchen counter, fiddling with the tab of the seltzer you’ve been nursing since dessert. “Yeah, I like him, Mom.”

“Have you been seeing him long?”

“We met last year. We started hanging out in the spring.”

Your mother nodded slowly.

“What?” You asked.

“One of your friends talked to me at the football game a few weeks ago.”

Oh, God. “Which friend? What did she say?”

Your mother waved you off. “It doesn’t matter. She mentioned something about how you’ve changed since meeting the boy you’re dating, and now that I’ve met him, I have to say that I agree.”

It was a gut punch. You scoffed. “I can’t believe you’ve been talking about me behind my back.”

“Honey, we were barely talking about it. She just said she was worried that you’re caught up in something that won’t benefit you.”

“Well, Mom, you’ve only met him once,” you replied coldly. “You don’t even know him.”

“I know you,” your mother had said to your response. “I don’t like seeing you jump on your phone whenever you get a text.”

Mattias only sends you Snapchat messages, but that’s neither here nor there. Your mother wouldn’t understand, even if you tried to justify it.

“You just don’t seem the same, sweetheart,” she continued. “You seem quieter. I wasn’t sure what it was, but now that I know you started seeing him in the spring…” She shrugs. “It’s starting to make sense.”

You stormed out in a huff after that, venting in long texts to Mattias over Snapchat and barely receiving any sympathy. In fact, he was slightly more defensive than you: ‘I don’t think you’ve changed,’ ‘Sometimes I feel like your friends hate me just to hate me and it’s weird that they’re getting your mom involved,’ and the most telling, ‘I knew I shouldn’t have come to dinner.’ At the time, the messages seemed normal.

When you go back to your town, the place where you’ve spent the past few years with your friends and your independence and with Mattias, he invites you over to his house. You go, walking the distance between your place and his because you thought the fresh air would help clear your hear. Today, you’re a bit more tentative about letting anything happen.

“Don’t let their words get to you, babe,” Mattias murmurs, kissing the skin behind the shell of your ear. “You know what we have.”

“I know, but it’s different coming from my mom,” you complain, shrugging him off.

Mattias only doubles down on his kissing and his touching. “Let me make it up to you. Gonna give you a great night so that you forget all about that bad one.”

And he does. Despite all of his “noncommittal behavior”– your best friend’s exact words, when it comes to the things Mattias does– he is very committed to making you moan out his name. He fucks you bare, well into the night. You actually knock the sheets off the bed with all of your wiggling and repositioning, going from missionary to cowgirl within mere minutes because Mattias doesn’t like missionary, then to doggy to broken eagle to a weird position where Mattias has you on your side and your ankle rests on his shoulder. You’re perpendicular from him, staring towards the mirror in the corner of his room, and you come with Mattias’s hand around your neck. He kisses you after, just once.

Then– and get a load of this– you ask him to take you home and he says no. He says he has an early morning, with practice and all. He has to be at the rink practically before the sun rises and he doesn’t want to wake you when he gets up. It’s considerate enough, but when you sarcastically say “I guess I’ll just walk home in the dark, then,” Mattias replies, “Text me when you get home so I know you got back safe.”

For the first time since this started, you think to yourself: What if you just walked me home? Then you’d be absolutely sure that I got home safe…

In the weeks since, your mother’s words have struck you. They’ve given you pause. They’ve thrown you for a loop– or one of the many other synonyms that you could use for your new perspective. If the people around you are saying Mattias has changed you, maybe they’re right. Your mother met him once and thought that she should say something. That has to mean something.

You’ve noticed the pattern: that Mattias rarely ever texts you first, and when he does, he wants to see you. What started as sweet, cute meet ups last spring for coffee or a movie or dinner have devolved into hurried hookups in your bed, rarely ever Mattias’s. He never sleeps over and he always makes an excuse when you try to sleep at his place. When he turns you down, it’s because he has film to watch, or practice to attend, or plans with his friends. When you turn him down in order to study or do homework, he persuades you that he can relieve your stress with school or that you’d have more fun in his company.

You’ve been a negligent friend and an even worse person because of Mattias. Yet– you just keep going back.

Maybe it’s because of the potential he has. You know he can be affectionate and kind and perfect. You feel it in the reverent touches to your skin when he undresses you. You see it in his eyes when he stares up at you, perched on his lap and grinding against him. You hear it when he calls you ‘babe’ and tosses a wink at you when he’s too far away to swat at your ass. He lets you hang out with his friends– only with his friends, he won’t hang out with yours– and claims you by holding you on his thigh and wrapping his strong arms around your waist. He shares drinks with you, he always comes when you call, and he always is by your side when you’re stressed or upset. Even when you say you want to be alone, Mattias knows that you don’t really. He knows that you want someone there, seeing through all your feeble lies, and he is.

Your friends say that it’s making you codependent on him. You think that he’s really just trying to help you.

Tomato, tomato.

So, you stop talking about him. You start seeing him in secret. Everyone knows– of course they do– but you pretend like there’s nothing happening anymore. You’re tired of people saying that he’s bad for you, especially when Mattias makes you feel so good.

You’re able to keep up the facade for a few months. Your roommate ignores the beeping of the alarm and the creak of the door from your late night departures and early, early morning arrivals. Your friends stop asking about Mattias because you stop telling them about what you did with him last weekend– you went down to Nashville in Tennessee for his team’s game on Friday night, then spent Saturday night on Broadway with Ti, a name that he hates but you insist on using. He wishes you would call him Sammy, like his ‘bros’ do, but you can’t stand the idea of being on the same level as them. You’re not his friend or his teammate. You’re seeing him, consistently, and isn’t that enough to consider your ‘thing’ a relationship? Not to Mattias.

He has changed you. He’s given you every reason to move on– a lack of a label, which you’ve asked for. A lack of consistency, which you’ve begged for. You’re tired of him requiring you to say hello to him whenever you see him around, but he’ll never do the same if he sees you. You can’t count the times that he’s offhandedly mentioned “Oh, yeah, I saw you in the park last week” or “Did you go to that coffee shop on Fifth the other day? I think I saw you when I drove by” or “Got you a ticket for the game. You’re still coming right?” (No, you weren’t planning on it, but his pouty lip in one of the rare pictures he sends through Snap goes right to your heart.)

It’s exhausting.

And yet, he’s at the end of every road that you try to forge for yourself. You tell him no– he comes over. You ask for space– he convinces you that you don’t need it. You get stressed about grad school and try to pawn him off– he tells you that he’ll quiz you, then reward you for every answer you get right.

You’re tired. Your grades are being affected. You’ve even called out of work for him, multiple times, something your manager isn’t happy about. Yet– you keep going back. You keep finding him at the end of the path.

There he is: Mattias Samuelsson, in all of his 6-foot-4-inch, 235-pound, goofy smile glory. One look into his smug eyes, insisting that he knows you even without saying it aloud, and you’re done for. You fall right back into bed.

It has to stop, you decide. You’re set on ignoring Mattias for as long as it takes for him to get the hint. You’re upset about the decision, yes– but you’re tired of looking at yourself in the mirror and wondering if you even recognize the girl staring back at you. You try to convince yourself and say that you never left, you never changed, but you know that deep down, things are different. Maybe you and Mattias decided to be together in another life. In a third, perhaps you never met. You wonder which outcome would make you happiest and you aren’t able to make a real decision, but you do know that the current situation is making you miserable. You can’t keep doing this.

Two weeks pass where you don’t text first. It’s the easiest way to start– letting Mattias come to you. He texts you a couple of times, but you tell him that you have plans with your friends that are unavoidable.

Surprisingly, you’re able to make those plans happen. Now that you’re not hanging out with Mattias all the time anymore, they’re happy to see you and catch up. You don’t have much to say since the last few months of your life have revolved around a boy that they don’t like, but at least you’re there. At least you’re seeing them.

It’s the first time in a long time that you’ve gotten the breath of fresh air that you were looking for.

Everything is fine– improving, even. One of your friends says that she saw Mattias on Tinder the day prior and you can’t find it in yourself to care. You just shrug and say that you wish him the best. It gets you a few perturbed looks, but you couldn’t care less. You’re no longer under his thumb.

The itch is still there. If he called, you’d come.

And when he does, you do.

It’s more of a text message than a phone call. It’s through Snapchat, like always, but you’re used to that. Mattias’s tone, however, is different.

You’ve gotten to know him like the back of your hand over the past year. He’s had you bare and laid out beneath him, ugly crying over school, and unable to stop laughing because of something he said that wasn’t funny at 4am. Come to think of it– the thing that wasn’t funny was that he had a tee time at 8am and he had still chosen to stay up with you.

Chosen to stay up with you. You’re not sure that’s true anymore. Maybe he had just waited it out, until you gave in and caved to his advances, and it happened to be in the early hours of the morning.

It doesn’t matter.

Can I come over?, his text says.

You’re right back where you started.

His little Bitmoji pops into the chat as you stare at the message, debating your answer. He starts to type and you feel caught out, wanting to swipe away and ignore the message. You know you can’t.

I just wanna talk :/

Mattias rarely uses emojis, at least not the ones that look like actual facial expressions (he loves the poop-face emoji and the 100 and the t-rex). He uses manually typed emojis even less, only replying to you once with a “:)” after you sent a “:(” when he stole your water bottle and refused to return it unless you came over to get it yourself.

Because of that, you believe him. You call him– through Snapchat, by the way. It’s never any less humiliating.

“So?” Mattias asks, instead of a hello.

“Are you already on your way?” You ask.

His low laugh rumbles through the phone. “Babe, I’m already outside.”

“Of course you are. I’ll come get you in a minute.” You hang up, untucking yourself from underneath your comfy bedsheets and sliding on your slippers. You’re wearing your most homely pajamas, but the weather is starting to get cold, so you wrap yourself up in your bathrobe and go to greet him.

Mattias is at the door when you open it. You’re not sure how he got into the apartment complex, but he must have snuck in behind someone else. He probably found a guest spot and parked there, or he stole an open spot in the lot that belongs to someone else… hopefully, he’ll leave before he gets towed. Your talk shouldn’t last too long– all you have to say is that this is over.

“Hey, gorgeous. I was wondering when I’d see you next.” Mattias steps across the threshold and dips his head to try and give you a kiss. ‘Try’ is the key word, considering you turn your head to the side and he catches your cheekbone.

“What’s up, Mattias?” You ask.

He’s taken slightly aback by your response. You know that from the way his hand drops from your waist and finds his pockets. “Are we jumping right into this?” He sounds a bit forlorn as he questions you.

You sigh a bit, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t have that much to say, Ti.”

He goes to correct you, like he always does when you call him ‘Ti,’ but he seems to change his mind. He looks you up and down, lifting a hand up to scrub over the scruffy shadow lining his face. “Is this over?” He asks.

Tentatively, you nod. “I think so,” you confirm quietly.

Mattias looks down at you, always towering above you in a once-sexy way, but now it’s just upsetting. You liked him. He didn’t treat you right. Yet– you still want him.

“So this is it?”

He sounds just as dejected as you. Although– he seems like he was quicker to acceptance. Probably because he’s got another girl lined up already, having met her on his secret Tinder that you shouldn’t know about. Who knows how long he’s had it– maybe he’s been on there since even before you stopped talking to him.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Yeah, Mattias. This is it.”

He stares at you for a minute. With hesitation written all throughout his movements, he brings a hand up and caresses your shoulder.

“Shit,” Mattias mumbles. He sounds genuinely regretful and it’s working. You want to wrap your arms around his waist and press your face into his chest and hold him while he hugs you, but you fight to stay still. “I wish I had known…” he trails off, then bows his head. His fingers find the neckline of your robe, toying with the plush fabric. “If I had known that last time was the last time, I would’ve made it better for you.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you reply, your voice somewhere between a tease, a whisper, and a scoff.

Mattias lets a little smile grace his face. “Just gonna miss you, that’s all.”

“Are you?”

He’s taken aback again by how brash you are, how disbelieving of his sweet words. It’s a stark contrast from who you were for the past year– the girl who was willing to go back to Mattias with just a slight nudge.

His lips part in surprise, pink and full and distracting. You won’t let his Cupid’s Bow shatter the guard that you worked so hard to put up. He’s so pretty. If things were different, you’d be happy staying with him forever. At one time, you thought that maybe you would.

“Of course I’m going to miss you,” Mattias says. “We were together for a year, babe.”

“Don’t call me that.” You turn your head to the side, biting the inside of your cheek. You shrug his heavy hand off your body. “You know we weren’t ‘together.’ You didn’t want to be.”

“It– didn’t make sense to me,” Mattias says, trying to salvage the situation. “You know that. With my job, I just don’t have time for a relationship.”

“So you decided to string me along for a year?” You ask. “You know I wanted something more.”

“I thought we agreed…” Mattias cuts himself off again. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry that you weren’t happy. I wish I could make it up to you, but… if this is it…”

“It is.”

Mattias looks at you for a little while longer. It’s absurd, how you’re still standing in the foyer of your apartment. Your roommate could be listening in. It’s not even that late. Part of you hopes that she is listening– so she can hear that you’re standing your ground and that it’s truly over. The rest of you hopes that she’s asleep and missing the whole thing. You feel too… vulnerable. This is a private conversation between you and Mattias. It’s the final bit that you can have, just between you and him.

“Can I kiss you?” Mattias asks.

It’s jarring and you go to say no, but he adds something before you can.

“Just– to say goodbye. I want to remember the last time I kissed you.”

He knows you just as well as you know him. He knows exactly how to break your resolve, exactly how to strike and when to get what he wants.

You fold. Unable to find your voice, you can only nod.

Relief spreads over Mattias’s face. His smile bares his top teeth slightly, just before he moves in.

He touches you all over. One of his hands rises through your hair, fisting the strands and tugging slightly. He loosens the knot that you had tied your hair into while doing homework earlier, making the shorter face-framing strands escape and brush along your skin. His other hand encompasses the curve of your waist, then slides to the small of your back. He pulls you close, pressing you into his front and leaving no space between your bodies. You can feel his strong, warm figure fully encompassing your own.

You suddenly want to cry. This is the last time. You’re mourning Mattias already, knowing that you have to treasure the time you have left with him, to treasure this last kiss.

You kiss him back, touching his scruff and fingering at the hair at the nape of his neck. You hear yourself whimper quietly against his lips, which makes Mattias pull you closer.

“Please,” he murmurs, sealing the plea with a lick into your mouth. “Fuck, baby, please.”

“Please what?” You say, lips still brushing his. That’s how close you are.

His hand brushes the globes of your ass, not quite cupping the covered skin, but definitely feeling you out. “One more time,” Mattias says. His tongue fills your mouth again, working against yours and distracting you. “Let me touch you one more time. It’ll be so good, please? I can’t let last time be our last time, not like that.”

You should say no and you know it. Then, his lips leave yours and he sucks a mark just past the curve of your jaw, at the sensitive spot below your earlobe. Heat pumps through your body and Mattias feels so strong and solid beneath your palms.

He’s working you, playing you like a fiddle. It’s so easy to fall back into your old routine, to let him have what he wants… what you want.

“One last time,” you concede, your voice still slightly unsure, and the relaxed sigh that eases Mattias’s posture is justification enough for your inability to hold strong.

He all but beelines for your room, intertwining his fingers with yours so that he can tug you along impatiently.

His touches are just as sensual as always, but laced with an urgency that has your clothes falling away from your body in just a few moments.

He undresses himself much more slowly, teasing you until you’re complaining about how long it’s taking and how it wouldn’t kill him to just get on with it. Mattias reminds you that it’s the last time he gets to see you like this, and you with him, so he wants to take his time with it. That shuts you up.

You take in the soft skin of his chest and abdomen. He’s always been toned and muscular and broad, but the curves of his love handles and the fold of his tummy when he sits back juxtaposes the athletic body that you’ve come to adore. He’s long and broad and thick in the best places, although his body moves with the delicacy and grace of a much daintier person. That’s Mattias– a Russian nesting doll of surprises. You wish you could keep him.

“Open up for me, babe,” Mattias tells you gently, working his hand between your knees and nudging them apart. He kneels between your legs when they’re spread far enough, letting his hand slide along your skin and create ripples of goosebumps in its wake. He nears your core, his eyes growing focused on the skin between your legs.

He always gets like this– hyper focused on the part of you that he likes most, the part of you that he’s claimed as his ‘home’ on multiple occasions. He gets so focused on the part of you that brings him the most pleasure. You’re finally seeing it for what it is: lust. Not love. Not a reciprocation of your feelings. Everyone tried to convince you of this for months, but you didn’t believe them then. You recognize it now… but you’re not willing to let him go without one last time in which you can fool yourself into believing it’s real?

So you let him in. You let him touch you. You let his fingers fill you the way that only they can, long and deft and agile. You let his mouth close over your clit, lathering spit into the bud until you’re dripping and writhing against him.

“Ti,” you cry out when you get close, your nails digging into the muscle of his shoulder.

He grins up at you from between your legs. “Always liked it when you called me that,” Mattias says. “I don’t think I ever told you.”

Then, he increases his pace and he makes you come, flicking kitten licks over your clit like he didn’t just say something that changes your perception of the past and all the times he corrected you and asked you to call him ‘Sammy.’

You’re still thinking about it, his words running through your head like an endless loop, as he starts to work his cock into you.

“Say it again,” Mattias pleads, pressing kiss after kiss to your eager mouth. He makes sure he’s close to you, staying in just this one position: face to face, flush against each other, heart to heart.

You repeat his little nickname breathlessly as many times as he asks. You watch the blush spread down his neck and his chest as he rolls his hips into you. He places his hand on your stomach, pressing down until he swears he can feel himself moving inside of you and you swear that it’s just making it harder to hold on. You don’t want him to make you come a second time, nor for him to finish inside of you– for the second time ever. The only other time was after your mother disapproved of him and he reassured you that she, and all of your other friends, were wrong. You don’t want this to end.

The room is hot and Mattias surrounds you. You’re expecting him to move you around like he always does, but it never comes. He lets you stare up at his face and kiss him as many times as you can and he does the exact same. It’s addicting and confusing and you want it to always be like this, but it can’t be.

He buries his face in your neck and kisses you, sucking hickey after hickey along your neck as he nears his peak. You can feel it in the way his fingertips clench on your skin, pressing tiny bruises along your hips, the back of your neck, and the soft skin where he sucked that first hickey– the one that broke your resolve.

Something to remember him by, you think briefly, although the thought only passes through your head and doesn’t stick until he’s long gone.

Mattias finishes inside of you, another thing to remember him by. He lets you grind into him until you come too, only subtly shifting his hips because he’s so sensitive. He lets his fingertips do most of the work, showering your clit in reverent touches that nearly bring tears to your eyes.

Conversation is stilted as you get dressed again. The weight of reality lies on you both like tons and tons of marble. It feels a little bit like being buried alive, you think.

You walk Mattias to the door. He kisses your forehead when he goes and wraps you in a big hug, holding you for a couple of minutes without saying a thing at all. He’s reluctant to let you go and you’re reluctant to let him leave.

It’s for the best. This was the last time. It had to be.

In three weeks, you tell yourself the same thing as you drive to pick up a drunk Mattias from the bar. He called because it was close to your place and he couldn’t think of who else to call– said the bartender who talked to you on the phone. You may remember that it was the last time, but Mattias doesn’t seem to.

His tender touches and babbled, drunken compliments reignite old feelings inside of you, ones that you’ve been hoping to quash for what feels like forever now.

You’re starting to wonder if you’ll ever really be free of Mattias Samuelsson.

notes: in case this feels real to you, just know that i based it off of my worst situationship with my evil ex! i have been through this too, you know. i will desire mattias carnally... even if he is a red flag and incredibly evil in this one.....

#puck-luck's fics #andy writes anything🍄#mattias samuelsson #mattias samuelsson x reader #mattias samuelsson smut #mattias samuelsson x y/n #ms23 #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl smut #hockey smut

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floralhuqzz · 8 months ago

Text

Sexual tension (Johnnie Guilbert x fem reader) smut

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Warning: smut, degradation, choking, petnames, virgin reader,, DONT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18🔞

🦇author: the edit thats in this post is not mine,, all credits to crystalcaskle on tiktok!!! :) I also apologize if theres any misspelled words english is not my first language!

♱

I woke up around 7 am when i decided to make myself some breakfast before i start streaming,, ive started youtube 1 year ago, around that time when i met Johnnie. Ive been living with him and Jake for the past 3 months and honestly its been going pretty good.

“whatcha’ making?”

“oh god dont scare me like that!” i slightly punch him in the shoulder

“sorry sorry.. it smells really good” he puts his arm around my shoulder and i blush.. i had a crush on him since when we first met

“you want some pancakes?” i look at him

“yeah, thanks” he pats my head, making my hair look like a mess

“i hate you” i roll my eyes

“you love me” he laughs as he sits down

‘i do..” i thought to myself

i make some coffee and more pancakes as i sit down next to Johnnie.

“are you doing something after?” he asks me while he keeps eating his pancakes

“yeah..i have to stream right now,, but im free afterwards” i smile

“wanna go out?” he finally looks at me,, he looked so beautiful,, his blue beautiful eyes.. his makeup he forgot to take off before bed that somehow still looked good on him.

“yeah..i would love to” i smile a little

i stand up

“i better go now, ill see you in 2 hours johnnie” i smile as i walk to my room

1 hour later*

i started streaming and i decided to react to some videos that my followers sent me,, they were usually sending edits of me or they will even sometimes send me memes. They all kinda supposed i had a crush on Johnnie, i just didn’t want to say anything just yet. They will sometimes send me edits of Johnnie and see my face turning red.

As one of my followers sent me this edit

When i watched that edit i said something that i will be definitely regretting later

“i volunteer..*cough* i mean what?..” i laugh

“WHAT DID SHE SAY” “DID WE HEAR THAT RIGHT?” “SHE JUST SAID I VOLUNTEER” “TELL ME THAT SOMEONE CLIPPED THAT”

“chat you are all crazy” i laughed

after another hour i decided to end the stream as i said my goodbyes

i walk to the living room as i see Johnnie sitting on the couch looking a bit serious

“you okay there?” i chuckle

“i need to talk to you”

oh no.

“yeah what is it?”

“mind explaining me this?” he shows me a clip of my reaction to that one edit on my stream

"oh um." i blush as i look away

"hm?" he stands up and walks towards me "cat got your tongue?"

i didnt say anything. i just stared at the floor

"i asked you something" he puts his hand on my chin

"it- it was just a joke, you know?" i chuckle awkwardly as i felt like i was about to pass out from embarassment

"it didnt seem like a joke to me" he stares at me

"yeah umm..." i start to walk back as he started to walk towards me, almost like trying to intimidate me

"whats wrong?" he smirks

"n-nothing" i finally bump into the wall behind me

"if you wanted to get fucked by me you couldve just said so"

"w-what?"

"dont play dumb"

"i-im no-" he grabs my neck

"lying to me wont get you anywhere" he stares at my shirt as he starts to put his hand inside my shirt

"j-johnnie what are y-" i could literally feel my heart beat racing by the second

"dont tell me you dont want this” he now started to kiss my neck

i felt like i was literally about to pass out from how hot i was in that moment. i couldn’t believe this was actually happening,,

“come here” he picks me up in bride style and sets up on walking to his bedroom,, he opens the door and throws me to his bed as he climbs on top of me

“fuck,, i wanted this for so long..” he starts to take off my shirt,, i felt hot between my legs

he started to kiss my stomach going down my hips. he slowly took off my pants and threw them on the floor

“johnnie wait!” he stops

“whats wrong? did i go too far??” he looks at me worried

“no no…its just that…its my first time..” i blush

“oh…” he smirks “ill make you feel good alright baby?,, you just have to trust me with this okay? can you do that for me?” he caresses my thigh. i nod as he then continued what he was doing earlier. he starts to kiss my chest going down my stomach, and finally reaching down to my panties.

“can i?” he started to kiss my inner thigh

“mhm” i nod

he slowly started to take off my panties as he then began to slowly eat me out. I’ve never in my life had been touched this way by anyone,, and knowing that the first person to take away my virginity was johnnie, it relieved me. i started to whimper as he suddenly started to go faster. his tongue was reaching all the right spots.

“fuck-“ i whimper as i felt him moan, sending vibrations to my core which gave me even more pleasure. i look down as i see him staring at me as he kept eating me out “johnnie fuck i-“ i moan

“come on baby, be a good girl and cum on my face” him calling me a ‘good girl’ sent me shivers down my spine.

“oh god oh god oh god-“ i throw my head back as i came

johnnie looks at me and caresses my thighs once again.

“you did so good baby..” he gets up and starts to kiss me. I see him unbuckling his pants.

“do you want this?” he asks

“yes…yes i do” i was so turned on by now that the only thing i wanted was him..and only him

“you will have to beg for it or ill leave you like this…needy…and you dont want that right princess?” he smirks

“n-no…” fuck he knew what he was doing. He waits for me to continue

“p-please johnnie..” i whimper as he lined himself to my entrance

“you can do better than that..” he looks at me dead in the eyes

“please johnnie i want your dick inside of me..” i beg,, i felt so embarrassed but turned on at the same time

“thats a good girl” he gets inside of my without a warning as i moaned from the sudden feeling

“for how long you’ve wanted this y/n? hm? tell me.” he began to move

“for a l-long time..” i moan, it felt like i was on cloud nine

He started to thrust harder and faster,, i felt like i was about to cum.

“j-johnnie i-im~” i whimpered and he put his hand on my leg and place it on his shoulder for better access which made the feeling 100 times better

“i know baby i know…fuck y-you feel amazing” he thrusted faster, “come on princess cum with me…” he moaned as we both cummed. We started to breath heavily,, with our hair sticking to our foreheads because of the sweat,, messy hair and red face but he still looked beautiful

“youre absolutely gorgeous..” i blush at his sudden comment

“i dont know if this is the right time but…i really like you..” he confesses

“i like you too johnnie…ive liked you for a very long time..” i smile at him as he kisses my forehead and we both fall asleep in each others arms.

#fanfic #johnnieguilbertxreader #johnnie guilbert #smut

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