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#last night was me just going from 'YES!' to 'NO!' to 'YES!' as i realised...
conundrumoftime · 9 hours
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One of the fun things about shipping Haladriel and about Galadriel's story in Rings of Power, for me, is that we know exactly where this is going to end up. And I wanted to babble for a bit about where that place is because I have seen so many people view it as "she is retired to some woods to be a passive wife-and-mother who can do magic but in a mystical New Age-y way", and: no! No.
So a quick overview of where she will end up by LOTR:
Very much not removed from the war against Sauron.
She is constantly mind-battling against Sauron: One of the lines that inspired McKay and Payne's whole show was her talking about this: "I say to you, Frodo, that even as I speak to you, I perceive the Dark Lord and know his mind, or all of his mind that concerns the Elves. And he gropes ever to see me and my thought." In one of the versions of the Annatar story in Unfinished Tales, Sauron immediately realises she will be his 'chief adversary', and has apparently not changed that assessment 3500 years later.
She co-ordinates joint efforts against Sauron: The White Council that Elrond talks about in LOTR, the combined force of Ring-bearers, wizards and elf-lords that first drives Sauron out of Dol Guldur - she's not just on that, she founded it.
She gets Gandalf back after Moria and the Balrog: Galadriel learns what's happened to Gandalf from the Fellowship when they arrive in Lothlórien. The the Fellowship are sad; the elves of Lothlórien mourn; Celeborn loses it a bit and says Gandalf 'fell into folly'; but Galadriel sends Gwaihir the eagle to get him, returns him to health, updates him on the situation with Boromir, gives him some messages to take to the others, and sends him back on his way.
She is possibly in Lothlórien because of its position of strategic importance: from Unfinished Tales here, she 'saw that Lórien would be a stronghold and point of power to prevent the Shadow from crossing the Anduin in the war that must inevitably come' and that's why she and Celeborn go there. (There are other versions as with almost everything else in Tolkien, but this is one of them.) She's not there to hide away from Events.
2. Calmer than in TROP, but not all-wise and all-sweet and still pretty scary.
She is still tempted by power and world domination: "I do not deny that my heart has greatly desired to ask what you offer [...] In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the morning and the night!"
And, she doesn't just turn down the One Ring because it's abstractly eeeevil. She turns it down because she knows what she, specifically, would do with it. Sam sees a vision of the Shire, and tells her "I wish you'd take his Ring. You'd put things to rights. You'd stop them digging up the Gaffer and turning him adrift. You'd make some folk pay for their dirty work," to which she says that yes, she would: "That is how it would begin. But it would not stop with that, alas! We will not speak more of it."
And saying she wants to rule the world here is not me joking about! This is Tolkien describing that moment in LOTR:
It was not until two long ages more had passed, when at last all that she had desired in her youth came to her hand, the Ring of Power and the dominion of Middle-earth of which she had dreamed, that her wisdom was full-grown and she rejected it
People are scared of her: The only scary moment we directly see is the Ring temptation, but she does other unsettling things. When she meets the Fellowship she tests them by reading their minds and offering something they really want to see if it would make them "turn aside from the road and leave the Quest and the war against Sauron to others." (She offers Sam a garden; the One Ring later on tempts him with the same thing.) Even the hobbits are a bit disturbed by this and Boromir, who's already said he doesn't want to go into Lothlórien because people who do that never leave again, absolutely does not trust her.
Éomer, a few chapters later:
'Then there is a Lady in the Golden Wood, as old tales tell!' he said. 'Few escape her nets, they say. These are strange days! But if you have her favour, then you are also net-weavers and sorcerers, maybe.'
She's scary! She's ancient and powerful and people are scared of her.
3. Married, but not in the character-limiting way the nerdbros want it to be and would have you believe it is.
I am not telling anyone they should ship Galadriel/Celeborn or even find it interesting just because I do, but, the angry nerdbros fancasting Celeborn as Henry Cavill and talking about how he'll come back to tame her and tidy her neatly out of the narrative are writing their own little AU headcanons because that is not what's in the text.
She's the more powerful one. Partly because she's one of the 'High Elves' - she's Noldor and has lived in Valinor seen the light of the Trees - which for various reasons about the way Tolkien's elves work just makes her more powerful, partly because she has a Ring of Power and Celeborn doesn't. It's her Mirror; she's the one reading people's minds; she's the one locked in endless mental battles with Sauron; she's the one the Rohirrim (whose lands border Lothlorien's) tell each other scary stories about. Celeborn at no point ever seems to have an issue with this, and calls her his 'treasure'.
They work together. Even in a big-action-sequences sense: after Sauron's defeat, Celeborn 'led the host of Lorien over Anduin in many boats' to Dol Guldur, where Galadriel 'threw down its walls and laid bare its pits'. But the rest of the time, too: she says of him that 'together through ages of the world we have fought the long defeat'.
You really get the sense that they have been married for a loooooong time. An actual sequence of events in LOTR, somewhat condensed:
The Fellowship reveal there's a Balrog in Moria;
Celeborn goes "!!!!", complains about dwarves waking it up and says he'd never have let Gimli into Lothlorien if he'd known that;
Galadriel smacks Celeborn down for being rude to their guest;
Celeborn apologises to Gimli;
Galadriel tells the Fellowship that Celeborn is accounted the wisest of elves;
Boromir says something about "old wives' tales";
Celeborn, whose wife is one of the oldest beings in Middle-earth, tells Boromir not to be so dismissive because "old wives keep in memory word of things that once were needful for the wise to know";
Galadriel hands Celeborn a drink.
Whatever is going on here is clearly something that works for them, is what I'm saying! And you don't have to find their marriage interesting just because I do, of course; but what it's not is some trad fantasy of domestic subservient-wife anything.
So where her TROP story ends up is ultimately with LOTR Galadriel: powerful, important, tempted to rule the world, a bit calmer than in TROP, a bit happier than in TROP, co-ordinating big strategic efforts in the war, married to someone who's got her back and adores her and they fall out a bit sometimes but generally work pretty well together, and still having Sauron constantly trying to get into her head. I am fine with this! I am more than fine with this.
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ghostsandmirrors · 8 months
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texts, texts, texts, texts, like you're tryna start a fight. yeah, i'll fuckin' text you back, i'm the dumbest girl alive.
- dumbest girl alive by 100 gecs — original images dylan: [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] bam: [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x]
texture credits! n/a
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1overbaby · 1 year
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Felt so happy when imagining last night and really being aware that i am my own lover. The way i experience these imaginations within me, in my own kingdom, its all me.
I am lucky to love myself in a romantic way within, i am so lucky to allow myself to experience truly endearing moments, memories and love. They [sp] are also so lucky that i am conferring the gift of love to both of us.
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Heylo my maggotsies... I'm sorry to do this but I have a thing that I really, really need to do (thank you Ash for helping me realise that) but I'm terrified to. so well. I'm going to make one of the posts (Neil reblogged me a couple of days ago so I feel pretty safe making one now since he only lurks by once in two weeks so this is as good a time as it gets to make a post and not expect many notes, yes I'm an overthinker and I'm actually scared of this getting notes).
Sigh. Here goes.
...I'm scared of even typing it.
Nope okay I can do this let's go.
If this post gets 1k notes, I'll look up jobs in design and film making that don't need a college degree.
2k notes, I'll sign up for an Alliance Francaise course so I can have another language on my CV, and I'll find a course that teaches me how to use design software.
5k, I'll look up distance learning alternatives, because just talking about physical college yesterday made me spend the whole morning and afternoon today in and out of nightmares screaming. Fuck.
10k, I'll tell my mum that I can't do the offline college. She's been talking to me about it, but I've been dodging because I'm not well-off and I really need to be earning and idk how to do that without college and I feel so guilty.
15k, I'll officially back out from the college (does that count as dropping out, if it hasn't begun? maybe half. i am a college and a half dropout, my 11th grade self would hate me and my 10th grade self would refuse to believe it).
I don't know what I'll do then. I don't know how to live as trans here in India, I don't know how to earn enough to be able to help my family, I don't know what I'm good at and I'm so fucking terrified. But. I spoke to @random-doctor-on-the-internet last night (I love you Ash you're such a fucking amazing human) and they made me realise that well maybe landing in a hospital with steroids to relieve an allergy attack because of exam stress isn't normal and so.
Well. Here I am. I know I can't do it, but I'm scared to risk everything, it's just not something people do here, dropping out. But also (TW s**cide statistics mentioned below the cut)... And so I've just. Got to do it, got to save myself and say no to college (cue say no to school, kids joke). Somehow be brave enough. And yeah.
To quote a financial express article: "In an alarming situation, a total of 7,62,648 suicides were reported in India between 2018 to 2022, Of this student suicides account for 7.6% at 59,239". Maybe if more people did say fuck you to the system here, that wouldn't be the case. That number could have been 59,240 (aside from everyone who wasn't counted and hushed up), that could have been me, and I don't want to put myself in that situation again. You know? Yeah.
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jamminvroomvroom · 7 months
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no more mister shy guy.
OP x fem!reader
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in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you
i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3
songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff
2.8k words
you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.
oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.
he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.
oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.
it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.
but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.
“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.
“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.
oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.
you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.
“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.
“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.
panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.
“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”
“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”
“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.
you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.
your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.
“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.
“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”
oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.
he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.
“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”
the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.
“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.
“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.
painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.
he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.
“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.
you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.
you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.
you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.
his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.
“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.
he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.
“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.
“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.
“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.
oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.
“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.
“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.
“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.
his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.
“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.
oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.
“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.
“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.
“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.
“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.
oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.
“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.
“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.
“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.
the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.
“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.
“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.
he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.
thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.
“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.
you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.
“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.
“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.
“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.
“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.
“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.
“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”
“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.
“there he is.” you sigh happily.
when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.
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whoops? lol
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monzabee · 2 months
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the smallest man who ever lived - cl16
masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||
Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.
Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)
Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.  
“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?” 
“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”  
“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.” 
Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–” 
Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?” 
“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?” 
“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”  
“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.  
“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”  
His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.” 
“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.” 
“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone. 
“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.” 
Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?” 
“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”  
And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment. 
It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.  
“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!” 
“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.” 
“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”  
“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?” 
“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–” 
“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”  
“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–” 
You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”  
It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”  
“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”  
“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.” 
“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.  
“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?” 
“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”  
You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.  
So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.  
“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.” 
“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”  
You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?” 
“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.  
“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.  
“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!” 
“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover. 
You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!” 
“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”  
You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.  
“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?” 
“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.  
“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”  
“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.” 
“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?” 
“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...” 
“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?” 
“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”  
Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”  
“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers? 
“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?” 
“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.  
His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?” 
“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?” 
“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?” 
“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.” 
“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.” 
“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.  
“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”  
“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?” 
“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.” 
“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?” 
Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?” 
“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.” 
“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”  
He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?” 
“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.  
For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach.   But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.  
“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.  
“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”  
The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.  
“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.  
With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.  
“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.  
“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”  
Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”  
Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to [email protected], but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.” 
“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.” 
“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.  
“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?” 
He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”  
“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”  
Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?” 
“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.” 
Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.” 
Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.  
With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?” 
“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.” 
“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?” 
Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.” 
“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”  
You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”
“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?” 
“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.” 
“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”  
“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.  
“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”  
Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?” 
He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”  
“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!” 
“I know you don’t,” he nods.  
“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.  
“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.  
“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!” 
The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.  
He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.  
“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.” 
“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.” 
You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.” 
“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.” 
And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up. 
2K notes · View notes
5sospenguinqueen · 3 months
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Growing Pains Pt 2 | Oscar Piastri x Reader
Summary: Oscar thought leaving was the best thing for you, but quickly realised he cannot function without you.
Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Suggestive content.
2024 season. Childhood sweethearts. No facelaim, just rando Pinterest pics
This acc just ended up being Landoscar fluff because I consumed too much of them after Silverstone lol
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mclaren just posted
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liked by aussiegrit, ln4 and others
mclaren oscar’s post race interviews #bahraingp 
2,559 comments
mclaren please enjoy some clips of our aussie talking about the one aspect of his life NOT involved with his job
→ user1 did mclaren just hard launch a relationship?
→ user2 no because why did they post clips that specifically don’t mention a name
→ user3 yes but the familiarity of the way he’s talking about this girl must mean it’s one he’s known since he was 14???
danielricciardo caught simping in 4k
thisisnotyn oscar sweaty got me feeling some kind of way 
charles_leclerc oh god, that goofy smile is back. i know what that means
→ maxverstappen1 he’s going to start yapping more than i do
→ user4 what do you know?!
alex_albon mate, i’m not going to lie, i don’t think we can defend you from this anymore
→ oscarpiastri you sent me memes of my face. you have never defended me
→ georgerussell63 join the club. wait until he sends you reaction gifs 
→ landonorris i love getting those 
YourUserName pookie 
→ user5 um, is she calling oscar pookie?
→ user6 well, it’s not going to be lando. he was only in one of the clips 
→ user7 idk, we don’t know what happened between them. it could’ve been a bad breakup and she might be trying to piss them off
→ landonorris ew, no. it’s not me. they made up weeks ago btw. no way osco would’ve lasted this long without his yn
→ YourUserName what do you mean ew! you’d be lucky to have me
→ danielricciardo no he wouldn’t
oscarpiastri i also talked a lot about my performance in the race
→ landonorris and where is that footage, huh??? funny how it doesn’t exist 
→ oscapiastri yn says you’re not allowed to tag along to date night anymore because you insulted both of us 
→ landonorris :(
→ user8 what do you mean he tagged along on date night?
→ user9 why are we skipping past the fact that lando confirmed that they’re back together
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YourUserName just posted
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YourUserName ladies, get a boyfriend who looks at you the way Oscar looks at Lando (actually, can you get me one first because mine seems to be broken) 
1,142 comments
oscarpiastri whoa, you told me i was a handsome boy. that photo doesn’t look like a handsome boy 
→ YourUserName some people are into the serial killer eyes. not me though, that’s why i’m asking the fans to find me a new bf
→ logansargeant i’ll help
→ user10 we know which side logan is choosing in the divorce 
landonorris how does it feel to know that your boyfriend likes me more 
→ YourUserName i know how to cut brake lines
→ landonorris 😰😰
→ mclaren yn, please don’t threaten our drivers
→ YourUserName hey, i’ll take them both out if they don’t end their affair 
→ oscarpiastri and here i was thinking you would cut his brake lines so i could get on the podium instead 
→ YourUserName sure, we can go with that
user11 can we take a moment to enjoy the fact that they’ve been back together for 4 months and he’s still letting her bully him
→ YourUserName i’m riding the guilt trip until the very end 
→ oscarpiastri i love you
→ YourUserName i know
→ landonorris but not as much as he loves me! 
→ YourUserName i know where you sleep
→ landonorris yeah, with your boyfriend!
→ oscarpiastri don’t tell the internet that! 
danielricciardo lando used to look at me that way
→ YourUserName i think we should start a spurned wags group
→ danielricciardo i’ll bring the wine
→ YourUserName i’ll bring the lightning mcqueen crocs
→ liamlawson30 can i join?
oscarpiastri sweetheart, you know you’re the light of my life
→ YourUserName didn’t feel that way when you guided lando away from a puddle and let me put my foot right in it
→ oscarpiastri i gave you my socks! 
→ YourUserName they were sweaty
→ oscarpiastri it’s all i had… 
→ mclaren yn, please stop bullying him. we can hear him crying from his driver’s room
→ user12 no because the fact that the majority of mclaren admin’s online interactions are just begging yn to behave 
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oscarpiastri just posted
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oscarpiastri when you say date night and she says I’m not putting pants on 
2,329 comments
YourUserName thank you for sharing your pizza with me after i burnt mine <3
→ oscarpiastri i can’t wait to share more with you
landonorris did she hide in your neck at the scary parts 
→ oscarpiastri no she fucking laughed at the way he was running
→ landonorris you cuddled into her neck at the scary parts, didn’t you 
→ oscarpiastri i plead the fifth
→ YourUserName it’s okay, princess, you know i’ll always protect you 
logansargeant no because they had their ‘date night’ 3 days ago and the paintings they did of each other are hanging in their bathroom, and when i tell you they were a shock to the system
→ user13 logan, show them to us, please
YourUserName it’s not my fault that it’s hard to keep pants on when you’re around 
liked by oscarpiastri
→ mclaren we talked about this 
→ landonorris my eyes! 
→ user14 @ aussiegrit come get your kids
→ YourUserName don’t tag him in it. mark still thinks i’m nice
→ oscarpiastri no, he knows you’re a gremlin
arthur_leclerc not you trying to pretend that you are romantic when you asked me for all of those ideas
→ YourUserName oh really?
→ oscarpiastri i had a whole night planned and you decided you didn’t want to go out!
→ alex_albon no because you really had him stressing
→ georgerussell63 he was even messaging the grid group chat 
→ danielricciardo he had a whole group of guys debating the best alternative to rose petals
→ YourUserName because i don’t like roses 🥹 oh, osc. it was perfect
→ oscarpiastri 🤍🤍
→ user15 anyone else finding this suspicious
charles_leclerc a date night to remember, i’m sure. and not for the lack of pants 
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user1 rough night in the piastri house, he’s upset mom and wifey 
arthur_leclerc welcome to the family, oscar. please don’t bring yn with you
→ YourUserName you’re just jealous that i didn’t want dinner with you 
→ maxverstappen1 wait, i thought i was your favourite. why don’t you want dinner with me?
→ charles_leclerc you are welcome for dinner anytime, yn
→ oscarpiastri see, what you’ve done. now lestappen are fighting. you promised to keep your crushes to yourself
user2 i love how now that oscar is past his rookie year, his true personality of being a gremlin has come out 
→ user3 now that shy oscar has gone we’re seeing just how well he pairs with yn
→ arthur_leclerc and i can guarantee the grid are missing shy oscar. i have had to put up with this since 2021
→ georgerussell63 i can confirm we do
→ logansargeant now you understand why i prefer to be quiet. if you don’t talk, they can’t bully you 
→ georgerussell63 my name on yn’s phone is amelia georgehart 
→ oscarpiastri we’ve been together for years and mine is peestri pants, count yourself lucky
→ YourUserName lando’s is just fucker. 
→ landonorris the full stop included? 
nicolepiastri i have some questions 
━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━
YourUserName just posted
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YourUserName weekends away with you  
1,012 comments
YourUserName thank you for a lovely weekend away from the madness. i could spend forever with you in our little bubble 
→ danielricciardo oh wow so you’re both simps?
→ YourUserName look away! i have a reputation to maintain
→ oscarpiastri no you don’t. you luuuuurve me
landonorris i can’t believe you left me behind 
charles_leclerc remove your head from that poor girl’s shirt. i raised you better than that
pierregasly someone convince kiks to do this with me. she refuses to go camping
→ francisca.cgomes because neither of us would survive sleeping on the ground
→ oscarpiastri neither would yn if not for the fact that we camped in the back garden
→ YourUserName why would i want to go somewhere without a functioning toilet! 
logansargeant where is your shirt. nobody wants to see that 
→ YourUserName i think you’ll find that i did 
→ oscarpiastri she’s a big fan
mclaren please come back, we miss you 
→ oscarpiastri yn says she still has another weekend before she has to return me
→ mclaren we were talking to yn
→ YourUserName miss you too, boo 🧡
→ landonorris why don’t you speak to me like that 
→ YourUserName ‘cause you stole my osc
→ oscarpiastri no one could take me from you 
user4 no because that last pic screams engagement photo and i don't know why
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charles_leclerc just posted
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charles_leclerc i am an incredibly proud father right now  
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oscarpiastri in other words, i convinced the prettiest girl in the world to marry me 
→ YourUserName and now i have the prettiest husband in the world 
user5 how is lando taking oscar looking at someone else that way?
→ landonorris not well
→ danielricciardo he cried the whole day
→ YourUserName that’s why i gave him my flowers
→ landonorris no i earnt those!
→ lilymhe yeah, i still have the bruises! 
user6 miss rabbit has fainted 
YourUserName i enjoyed our father-daughter dance
→ fernandoalo_official @ aussiegrit the monegasque is trying to steal our children
→ oscarpiastri now i’m in trouble with mark
→ YourUserName i’ll make it up to you on our honeymoon
→ oscarpiastri 😳☺️
user6 fuck you to all the bitches who said they wouldn’t last because they’ve never dated anyone else
mclaren what a beautiful couple. i think we need to put those up around MTC
→ YourUserName i think zak would really appreciate them in his office
→ oscarpiastri what makes you think i haven’t already put them up around MTC. gotta keep my wife with me wherever i go
→ YourUserName stop making me giggle 
user7 definition of soulmates 
arthur_leclerc welcome to the family, yn. even though i asked oscar to leave you behind when he was adopted 
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YourUserName just posted
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YourUserName i made something 
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nicolepiastri and an amazing job you did, sweetheart
→ YourUserName i love you 💗
→ user8 nicer to mama piastri than she is to her own husband 
oscarpiastri i helped
→ YourUserName you contributed for like 2 seconds
→ oscarpiastri stop being mean to me or i may fall in love with you 
→ landonorris 2 second wonder
→ YourUserName you would know
charles_leclerc i’m too handsome to be a grandpapa 
→ YourUserName certified gilf 
→ oscarpiastri i cannot believe you made me read that. i thought you were better than this
→ YourUserName whoa, i have never been better than this and you know that but i can blame it on baby hormones this time
→ charles_leclerc and oscar will let you get away with it
→ oscarpiastri damn right. she just had my baby
landonorris does this mean i get the chance to win godfather of the year
→ danielricciardo don’t tell me they actually named you godfather. you can barely keep yourself alive
→ logansargeant yn got to pick me so oscar was given the choice to pick the other
→ oscarpiastri we made the decision together as loving parental unit 
→ YourUserName the decision was made whilst i was high on gas and motherly love 
→ oscarpiastri stop making it sound like i coerced you
→ YourUserName you had your top off! of course i was coerced. piastitties
→ mclaren yn, no
oscarpiastri sweetheart, i have loved you every day since we were 14 and being by your side these past 9 months, watching you go through such a monumental change, only proved that it was possible for me to love you even more. i can’t wait to see our family grow 💕
→ YourUserName i love you so much, oscie. from growing with you to growing our own mini us, i’d go through all the pain again for forever with you
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Hi, guys. If you have requested previously, I promise they're coming. I've just got them added to my list
Baby Fever Angst Series
Charles's Version | Daniel's Version
Lance's Version | Lando's Version | Max's Version
Tag list
@barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @leclercsluvs @weekendlusting @urdad-hot @lemon-lav @rosecentury @peachiicherries
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 5 months
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Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3
ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k
“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 
“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 
“I understand, but–”
“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 
You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?
“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 
The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 
“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 
You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 
“Did you call them?” 
Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 
Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 
“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 
You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 
Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 
“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 
You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 
“We really don’t have time to waste.” 
“I know, but my blood sugar–”
She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”
“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”
“Clearly not!” 
“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 
The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 
You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 
If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 
Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 
“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 
He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 
He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 
“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.
“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 
He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 
In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 
You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 
“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 
“No,” you say apologetically. 
“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 
Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”
“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”
“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.
“How did you get so low?” he asks.
“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 
“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 
“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 
“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 
“Don’t know,” you mumble. 
Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 
He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 
You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 
By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 
You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 
“I understand.” 
You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.
He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 
“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 
He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 
“What do I get in return?” 
He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 
2K notes · View notes
theemporium · 11 months
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[3k] too many shots and a bet leads to a very interesting night out. it's just a shame neither of them can remember it and the whole world is discovering the details alongside with them.
series masterlist
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RING! RING!
The first thing you were painfully aware of was the annoying shrill of your phone echoing from some distant corner of the room. 
RING! RING!
The second thing was the fact you had forgotten to close the blinds last night, meaning the blinding rays of the Nevada sun were doing their best job in dragging you out of your comforting slumber like irritating parasites. 
RING! RING!
And the third thing was that whoever was trying to call you was seemingly very insistent to get in contact with you, if the three calls in a row (that you were so far aware of) were anything to go by.
RING! RING!
“Oh my god,” you groaned as you pulled the edges of the pillow over your ears, hoping it would muffle the ringing shrills. But when the phone continued to ring and the noise only seemed to get louder, you were forced to throw your hand out and blindly try to grasp the cursed device in hopes of making the noise stop. 
Your fingers wrapped around the buzzing phone, your eyes still firmly kept shut as you kept tapping the screen until the ringing stopped before you brought it to your ear. “You better have a good fucking reason for calling me.”
“I hope you are doing something you enjoy.”
You frowned, your brain taking a few moments to process the voice coming through. “Arthur?” 
“Like, I hope you are fulfilling your lifelong wish right now.” 
“What the fuck are you on about?” You grumbled, exhaustion hitting your body just as badly as the rays of sunlight shining through the open blinds were. “It’s too early for your riddles.”
“I am just saying that I think you should be doing something you love before Charles kills you.” 
You let out a non-committing hum. “And why would he kill me?” 
“Many reasons but I think getting married in Vegas last night is easily the top of the list right now.”
Your eyes shot open when you heard the words leave Arthur’s mouth. It felt like ice had doused your entire body as you quickly sat up in the hotel bed, now painfully aware of the pounding headache that only tequila could give you. 
“WHAT?”
“Congrats, by the way. I do pity the poor guy you locked up though.” 
Now painfully aware of the situation, your eyes grabbing onto any detail that would hopefully prove your brother wrong. Unfortunately, all you seemed to find was evidence that he was telling the truth if the white dress, the horribly large costume jewelry ring on your finger and the abandoned veil with ‘NEW BRIDE’ on the floor were anything to go by. 
“Oh my fucking god,” you breathed out, feeling though as you were going to empty your stomach’s contents any moment now. “How do you know? Why didn’t you stop me?!” 
“I wasn’t with you! I just opened Twitter and found pictures of my sister outside a wedding chapel and all over some random guy!”
“I married a stranger,” you hissed out, your lips parting in shock. Tequila made you do many questionable things, but even this was bad for you. 
“He’s your husband, it’s a bit offensive to call him a stranger.”
“Arthur, I swear to god—” You cut yourself off as your eyes fell on the large lump in the bed next to you. It took you an embarrassingly long time to realise it was another human. It took you even longer to tear your eyes away from the cheap suit he was wearing before you looked up at his face. “Oh my fucking god.”
“What?”
“Charles is going to kill me,” you breathed out, your heart pounding like it was lodged in your throat. 
“Yes, we established that when I called you—”
“Charles is going to kill me when he finds out I married Max,” you continued, lost in your own daze that you barely acknowledge your spluttering brother on the other side of the phone.
“YOU MARRIED MAX VERSTAPPEN?!” 
Unfortunately for Arthur’s sake, you quickly hung up the phone. You could barely process the fact the Dutch driver was currently passed out on the bed next to you, let alone doing so with your brother screeching in your ear the whole time. The phone was abandoned on the bed as you stared at the Dutchman, your brain working on overdrive as you tried to work out what to do next. 
So, you did what any reasonable person would do and shoved him off the bed. 
“OW!” 
You froze for a moment before you crawled over to the other side of the bed, peaking over the edge and down at Max who was currently groaning on the floor from his impromptu wake up call. 
“What the fuck was that about?” He grumbled, blinking a few times before he realised who was hovering over him. “What the fuck are you doing in my hotel room?” 
“This is actually my hotel room,” you replied. 
“Oh,” he muttered. “Then, what the fuck am I doing in your hotel room?”
“Well, it’s what a married couple do,” you commented. 
Max’s brows furrowed together. “What?”
You lifted your left hand, the ring now on display and you could practically see the cogs turning in his head before the realisation hit him. “Do you think this counts as our honeymoon?” 
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” 
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“How did this happen?” 
“Tequila,” you muttered with your nose scrunched in disgust as you watched the Dutchman begin to pace the hotel room. If you cared enough, you would be concerned about him wearing down the carpet. Though as of the current moment, your priorities were currently elsewhere. 
Max turned to look down at the certificate he had found stranded beside your veil on the floor, your names and signatures clearly printed on the piece of paper—which took out the small piece of hope that this was just some elaborate prank set up by Arthur.
“How did we get that drunk though?” Max questioned, his brows furrowed together. If he wasn’t so confused, he would be more embarrassed at the fact he clearly couldn’t handle his alcohol as well as he once could. 
“Well, it’s your fault,” you commented casually, which had the boy whirling around to face you. 
“How is this my fault?” Max scoffed.
“You made the bet!” 
Max’s frown deepened. “What bet?”
“At the hotel bar,” you stated like it was a basic fact he should have remembered. “When I bumped into you—”
“We bumped into each other,” Max chided. 
“—you were the one to suggest shots,” you pointed out.
Max gave you a look. “How is that a bet?” 
“Because you said I couldn’t outdrink you. I said you would be a sore loser. And then you bought us ten shots each.” 
He blinked. “Huh.” 
“I’m pretty sure it was also your idea to go to another bar afterwards when we got kicked out the hotel bar,” you said in a sing-song voice.
Max scoffed. “Absolutely not. You were the one that said only losers go to bed after one bar.” 
You shrugged. “I stand by it.”
Max let out a laugh, a little breathless like he was trying to hide it. He shook his head, glancing down at the certificate one more time before shrugging. “It’s not really that bad, to be honest. A bit embarrassing, but what people don’t know won’t hurt them.”
Your expression turned sheepish. “About that…”
“Who knows?” He asked in a blunt voice. 
“Well, Arthur knows,” you started. 
“That’s not that bad,” Max scoffed, his shoulders relaxing. “Wait. Charles doesn’t know, does he?”
“Not yet,” you said before quickly continuing. “But he probably will because the paparazzi caught us last night and now the pictures are all over the internet.” 
Max blinked. “AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO START WITH THAT?” 
“You’re grumpy when you wake up!” You defended, watching as the boy rolled his eyes at you.
“The whole world thinks we are married!” Max countered before sputtering out a laugh. “Well, we are married. Or we aren’t. I’m still not totally sure but I don’t need your brother chopping off my balls over it!”
“He wouldn’t!”
Max shot you a look.
“Okay, he would,” you grimaced before giving him a shaky smile. “But he doesn’t know yet so we should be in the clear—”
BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!
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“Okay, I have good news and bad news.” 
Max looked at you expectantly. “And?” 
“Bad news: Charles now knows,” you said with a shaky smile. “Good news: he doesn’t know it’s you!” 
Max pressed his fingers into his temples, trying to rub soothing circles. “Fucking hell.” 
“But also bad news: he is coming here right now as we speak so we should probably—” You started, fully set on grabbing what you needed and hiding out somewhere else in the hotel until Charles calmed down. However, your plans were put on hold when you heard a groan from the bathroom. 
“CAN YOU BOTH PLEASE SHUT UP?”
Your gaze caught Max’s as you stared at each other, both with expressions mixed between confusion and surprise. A few seconds passed before you were both clambering off the bed, heading towards the bathroom where you threw the door open and scrambled to turn on the light before you both froze in the doorway at the sight in front of you.
“Now that was unnecessary.” 
You gaped at the sight of Yuki curled up in the bathtub, dressed in a similar looking suit to the one Max was wearing along with what you were certain was the shower curtain placed over him like a blanket. He had a pillow behind his head and sunglasses over his eyes, and for all intents and purposes, he looked fairly comfortable. 
“Oh my god,” you breathed out. “I married two drivers last night?!”
“I hope you at least married me before Yuki,” Max grumbled, only to let out a small wince when you elbowed him. “God, you’re a difficult wife.” 
“Kinda going through something,” you snapped back before your eyes moved back to the Japanese driver. “I can’t believe I married you and Yuki.”
The driver in the tub let out a scoff mixed with a laugh. “Please, you didn’t marry me. You’re not my type.”
You blinked, unsure whether or not you should have been offended by his comment. 
“The ring on your finger says otherwise, mate,” Max commented, the ring a matching one with the one that was currently on your left hand.
“I married someone but not you,” Yuki said as he waved you off, nuzzling his face back into the pillow. “And our wedding was much classier than yours.”
“I—” You frowned. “You remember?” 
“Yeah, you said you wanted witnesses,” Yuki grumbled, bringing the shower curtain up until it was tucked under his chin. “You also dragged Lando out so he would take your photos.” 
Max gaped. “Lando was there? Lando knows?!” 
“Yes, now can you please go bother him?” Yuki muttered under his breath. “And turn the lights off as you leave. Only wake me up when you order food.” 
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“Don’t make me an accomplice in your crimes.” 
“Shut up and let us in.” 
You weren’t surprised to find that Lando and Logan were already in the room, both with looks of amusement on their faces as they watched you and Max wander in—still dressed in your wedding clothes from the night before. 
You wanted to slap the smug looks off their face. 
“Is it really a good idea to hide here?” Max asked as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, feeling as though the headache pounding through his head had nothing to do with the alcohol he consumed last night and more to do with the mess you both had created.
“It buys us time,” you insisted. 
“On the chance that Arthur doesn’t rat you out,” Logan added. 
“You told Arthur where I was?” Your eyes widened before you turned to look at Oscar. “Do you want me dead?” 
“You know, something about the way you’re wording that makes me feel like it’s a trick question,” Oscar commented with a suspicious look on his face.
“Oh my god, I’m going to die today,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. 
“It’s kinda romantic that you guys will die together,” Lando chimed in as he grinned between you and Max. 
“If I survive today, I’m going to run you over,” Max threatened with a strained smile on his lips.
Lando snorted, shrugging. “Yeah but the chances of that happening are low so…”
“Your brother doesn’t even know my room number,” Oscar pointed out. “It will take him ages to convince the desk to give it to him or even hunt—” 
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
“This is what English teachers meant when they taught us poetic irony,” Lando laughed, all giddy and happy.
“Like you paid attention,” you grumbled, eyes narrowing on the boy before you turned back to the door. “Don’t answer it.” 
Oscar’s eyes widened. “I can’t not answer it.” 
“Yes, you can,” you said bluntly. “Just don't open the door.”
“He knows we are in here,” he hissed. 
“We don’t know that for sure.” 
“OPEN UP! I CAN HEAR YOU! SOMEONE OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO GOD—” 
“Even more reason not to open the door,” you said, pressing your lips together to hide the wince that you wanted to let out as Charles thumped on the door again. 
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Max grumbled as he quickly stood up, ignoring your pleas to just pretend your brother didn’t exist. He reached the door, yanked it open and braced himself for the wrath of an angry Charles Leclerc.
Much to his surprise, the Monegasque barged straight past him and headed straight for Oscar instead. 
“You!” Charles gritted out through clenched teeth as he reached to grab Oscar’s collar, firsting the material in his hands. “What do you have to say to yourself?” 
Oscar’s eyes widened as Charles backed him into a wall. “What?!” 
“Marrying my sister in Vegas? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Charles continued. 
It didn’t take long for Lando to descend into a fit of giggles, practically on the floor if it weren’t for the fact Logan was keeping him on the bed. Somewhere still standing by the door, Arthur stood with an amused look on his face that only grew wider when he saw your confused and shocked expression too. 
“I didn’t marry your sister!” Oscar said to him, trying to push the boy away but he was latched on tightly. “I was literally in bed by nine!”
“Loser,” Logan grumbled under his breath.
Charles faltered, his eyebrows furrowing together. “What?”
“I wasn’t the guy to marry your sister,” Oscar repeated, finally managing to pull Charles’ hands off him. “I don’t think there is enough alcohol in the world for me to do that.”
“First Yuki and now him,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
“If you didn’t marry her, then who did?” Charles questioned. 
It was almost comical how quickly everyone turned to look at Max, who was still standing by the door and looked like he was contemplating just dashing out the room.
“You,” Charles muttered out, his eyes narrowing on the Dutchman. 
“In my defence,” Max started as he gave the boy a smile, though it didn’t seem as confident as he was hoping it would be. “I didn’t know I married her either.”
“I am right here,” you huffed. “Jesus Christ.” 
“I am going to—” 
“Nothing. You’re going to do nothing,” you jumped in, taking a step so you were blocking his line of vision of Max. “It’s just a…phoney, fake marriage. It’s not that big of a deal, Charles. People will forget by next weekend anyways.”
“Uh,” Logan cleared his throat. “It’s actually very legal all over the US and in some other places—”
“Shut up, Logan.”
“Yes, ma’am.” 
Charles narrowed his eyes on you. “You’re not allowed to marry him.”
“I already did,” you pointed out with a sheepish expression. 
“I don’t care.” 
“Charles,” you stepped towards him, though the boy still looked like he was contemplating parading into the paddock with Max’s head on a stick. “Charlie, please. Don’t do something stupid because you’re annoyed.” 
“I want to cut his dick off,” Charles told you.
“I know.”
“And you can no longer have alcohol unsupervised.”
“That’s a tad dramatic.” 
“And no consummating the marriage.”
“That would be difficult to do if you cut off his dick anyways.”
“Can we stop talking about my dick?” Max chimed in with his hands locked in front of him, almost protectively.
Charles sighed. “But I promise I won’t kill either of you. Today.” 
You grinned as you reached towards your brother, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.”
“You should tell Maman before she finds out through the internet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Maybe shower first. You stink of tequila.”
“That would be kinda hard to do considering Yuki is currently asleep in my bathtub,” you commented. 
Charles opened his mouth to reply but just shook his head. “I’m not even gonna ask.”
“Good, because I don’t have answers,” you murmured with your lips turned down. “And he’s really snappy when you try to get them from him.” 
Charles snorted. 
“So, that’s it?” Lando suddenly spoke up from behind you both. “God, that was not worth getting out of bed for. I expected more drama.”
“I’m still pissed at you,” you told the Brit, who just grinned. 
“I’ll send you the photos later, don’t you worry,” he said like he didn’t just hear the words that left your mouth. “Maybe one of them will inspire angry Charles again.”
“Please don’t,” Max grumbled. 
“It won’t be necessary because we are finding a divorce lawyer,” Charles stated simply, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head before he began making his way to the door, nodding for Arthur to follow him. “Both of you get dressed. We are leaving in an hour.”
Both you and Max gaped at the boy, but he didn’t notice. 
“And someone take one for the team and wake up Yuki. I vote Lando.” 
Lando frowned. “Woah, wait a second–”
“ONE HOUR PEOPLE!!”
...
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 133,728 others
yourusername call me mrs verstappen
view all 12,892 comments
oscarpiastri sometimes i wonder if you just enjoy pushing charles over the edge
yourusername yes
user WHAT
user it was real?????
user oh my god IT WAS MAX?
user someone sedate me
user this is some wattpad level stuff wtf the book tropes????
user i need to know how charles reacted when he found out
arthur_leclerc badly
maxverstappen1 i mean it was an accidental name but i guess it suits you
yourusername you like meeeee, admit it :)
maxverstappen1 i think i legally have to agree because you're my wife
yourusername damn don't sound too enthusiastic about it
user i just know charles lost years of his life over this
landonorris uh photo creds?
yourusername no
landonorris rude
charles_leclerc take this down
yourusername no
charles_leclerc you are a leclerc, not a verstappen
yourusername the marriage certificate says otherwise
charles_leclerc please stop reminding me
pascaleleclerc welcome to the family maxverstappen1
charles_leclerc MAMAN?????
maxverstappen1 thank you? i think?
pascaleleclerc dinner will be at 6 when you are back in monaco
maxverstappen1 yes ma'am
charles_leclerc MAMAN WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON????
.
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sofiawritesstuff · 3 months
Text
Platonic
part 1
summary: When Lando’s “playboy” image is setting a bad reputation for him. He’s turns to the person he trust most in this world for help.
pairing: landonorris x bestfriend!reader
warnings: none (i don’t think)
This is my first time writing, I hope you all enjoy and if there’s any advice you guys can give me to improve please do!!
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“Please, please! You’re my best friend. I just need this one favour!” Lando begs following you around at a quick pace.
“Exactly Lando” you sigh before continuing “I’m your best friend and as much as I love you I just don’t think it would work or be realistic” you shrug, taking a bottle of cold water from his fridge
“Why? Why don’t you think it can be realistic! Fans accuse us of being together all the time because of how close we are! The only thing that would have to change would be not denying it…and maybe kissing” he whispers the last part
“Kissing!” you shout choking on the water “We’ve done it before!” he defends “Yeah when we were like 11!”
“And 14, and 17!”
“You’re not helping yourself Lando”
“Please, it would just have to be for a few months then we could say we were better off as friends. Please. I don’t want to be in a PR relationship with some random model who’s looking to gain attention for a brand” Lando sighs, visibly upset
“Can you give me time to sleep on it? You know I love you but I don’t want this to come between our friendship”
“We’re strong, think of everything and everyone that tried to separate us before we never let them come between us”
“Which is why I can’t risk loosing you, there a difference between a girlfriend not liking me that tries to separate us and faking a relationship Lando”
“I understand” he nods “I promise you, you will have an answer before the start of the race weekend. I’m gonna head to bed now okay. I love you” you hug him tightly before heading to the spare room in his apartment.
It wasn’t the first time you had turned down Lando, in fact he had asked you out every year from the age of 14 until you guys were 18 before he finally realised that you wouldn’t work.
It’s not thst you didn’t like Lando, you loved him and maybe you did have feelings for him. But the thought of loosing your friendship because of relationship scared you.
For most hours of the night you lay in the bed of Lando’s spare room at his apartment in Monaco, that was quickly known as your room, thinking about what Lando said.
You supported him before his career even started and Lando’s reputation with girls certainly wasn’t the best. The media painted him to be a “playboy” and “unloyal”, which in some senses he was. He had never cheated on his previous girlfriends but he did date his ex’s friends and colleagues.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a harm to pretend for a few months? But what if your feelings began to grow stronger and you may not be able to go back to the way you were with Lando?
Lando was the same just through the wall, his feelings for you never left him. All the girlfriends he had he never felt for them what he felt for you, which was terrible but also why he was now single. He wanted you to say yes, he wanted you to agree but he didn’t want his feelings to get in the way, especially when he didn’t know that you felt the same way.
The next morning, you woke up to the usual clatter of plates from the kitchen. Which never meant anything good.
“What are you attempting to make this morning Mr Norris?” you laugh watching him by the pan “French toast but it’s not going well” he answers not taking his eyes of the food
“Well for starters, you’ve completely burned the bread. Would you like some help?” you ask holding back a loud laugh “Please”
The two of you started over, putting the uneatable food in the correct bin. You focused on the food while Lando focused on the coffee.
“There you go Lan”
“Thank you, how’d you sleep last night?” he asks putting the food in his mouth “To be honest, not great i’ve been thinking about what you said”
“You have?” Lando asks dropping his food “I will help you, if you promise me that we will still be best friends at the end of everything”
“Pinky promise”
part 2
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edenesth · 2 months
Text
[9:15 PM]
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"Oh my god, that guy is totally your type!" a girl squealed, nudging her friend to look at the gorgeous man across the street.
Her friend giggled, shushing her, "You're right, but stop being so obvious! He's gonna think we're weird!"
"I doubt it. If anything, I think he's already got his eyes on you," she replied, nodding towards him. And she was right—he was looking in her friend's direction, a charming smile on his face as he bit his lip shyly. "Will you go talk to him?"
"I-I mean, I don't know..."
Oh god, I don't need this right now.
You rolled your eyes, eavesdropping on the conversation in front of you. Typical young girls. The light had turned green, and they were still busy debating whether to approach the tall, handsome guy across the street. "Excuse me. Last I checked, your father doesn't own the road. If you're not planning to move, please step aside. Some of us have places to be," you grumbled, pushing past them.
One of them scoffed, annoyed. "Ugh, whatever! Keep that attitude, and no man will ever want you, lady!"
You snorted, nodding sarcastically. "Yes, thank you. I definitely need advice from delusional little girls like you."
"Wha—delusional?! Who do you think you're calling delusional…" Her words trailed off as she watched you walk straight into the welcoming arms of the dreamy guy they had been ogling moments ago. The realisation hit, and embarrassment washed over them. That man had been looking at you all along, not at either of them.
Your boyfriend chuckled, holding you close and kissing your head. "Oh my love, you're so cute when you're annoyed. Did you really have to call them out like that, hm? They would've realised I was yours by the time you got here anyway."
You huffed. "I'd like to see you be so graceful if you heard two guys talking about me the way they just did about you."
He grinned, squeezing you tighter. "Oh baby, you know damn well that I can handle it."
Pulling away slightly, you glared up at him, irritated because he was right and you knew it. This annoyingly perfect man. "I do, and I hate that you're right." He laughed, leaning in to capture your lips in a loving kiss. "Oh come on, you know you love it."
"I do love it... love you, Yuyu."
He softened. "I love you too, baby."
Biting your lip, you cupped his face. "Tell me, my wonderful amazing boyfriend... are those two still watching?"
"Oh my god," he rolled his eyes. "Were you just trying to show off and make them jealous? They left as soon as they realised what was happening."
You groaned, pushing him away and starting your walk back to your shared home. "Ugh, you're telling me we did all that and no one even enjoyed the show?"
He gasped. "A show?! Come here, you—"
Little did you know, that was a lie. The girls were still watching enviously as he chased after you, your shrieks echoing across the quiet streets on a Wednesday night as he tickled your face with endless kisses as playful punishment.
Damn, I guess we were quite delusional...
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ATEEZ Masterlist
Look what you did to me, @itstheghostofmypast, I haven't been able to stop thinking about Yuyu lately and it's all your fault🙈💕besides that, man's been looking mighty fine lately, it's hella annoying.
Hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp HAHA and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3
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@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |
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kisses4reid · 7 months
Text
convenient | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
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summary - studying while working at a convenience store is easier that thought when a regular happens to be a genius.
genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x earlyseasons!spencer
warnings - school work, that always scares me. they’re the same age!!! early 20s. mention of condoms.
edit - bc this is getting so much love, i’m opening a taglist for part 2!!! just comment or put in a req to join the ‘convenient’ taglist 🫶
the chime of the door didn’t phase you, the creaks and squeaks of the store slowly becoming one with you. flipping onto the next page of your biology textbook, something that was unnecessarily expensive, you shake your hand to get rid of the cramp you slowly became aware of.
it was only when a wave of man’s cologne and a plastic bag stood in front of you that you ripped your eyes off of your books.
he was tall, skinny, had long(ish) hair and looked amazing. there wasn’t really anything else to say, other than that the thin smile he displayed toward you made you smile back.
“just these for today?” you ask, fixing your posture and pushing some loose strands back to their place behind your ears.
“yes, thank you.” he says, voice as timid as his appearance. it was a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him as his long fingers slip through his wallet to find a debit card. “have a good night.”
your eyes return to your textbook as you go to erase an answer you had previous written, obviously wrong.
“the heads of the phospholipid bilayer are hydrophilic, not phobic.” he says. it surprised you, making you return to his gaze slowly before realising you should probably reply instead of staring at the man.
“oh- yeah, thanks. i caught that it’s just, i guess i’ve been staring at the same words for so long i can’t differentiate them.” you give a small fake laugh as he nods, giving you a long look before coughing and leaving promptly. he leaves with his bag, and his hands fiddling with each other.
you can barely focus after that. customers come and go, and although you’ve only been doing the late shift for a week, this encounter with the unknown man couldn’t leave your mind. the way he dressed, his smell, his voice and how he corrected you (which would totally annoy you usually). you hoped he would return.
and he did. three days later, this time even later than the last.
you were stuck in a dark purple sweater, the aircon in the store blasting cold air that you were too lazy to fix. and although the air flipped pages of notes and questions, you were still stuck in a trance.
the blasting aircon blew a wind of mens cologne this time, it smelt like wood. your eyes glanced up from your books and trailed the familiar man, noticing how he was reusing the plastic bag from days before.
he returned to the checkout with apples, a 3 minute cannelloni, and a bag of coffee. he was now the one trailing you, “where did Latrice go?” you look up, chuckling a bit,
“Latrice is getting paid by her daughter-in-law to babysit the twins,” you reply, surprised you were willing to tell him so much information. he could be a stalker for all you know. or just a regular, obviously that’s way more likely. “trust me, i miss her as much as you do. $14.98.”
he nodded with a small smile and sliced his card down the side of the card reader.
you searched for him now, only after two encounters you were already craving some sort of human interaction at work. usually you avoided it since the only other ‘regulars’ were old men and mean teenagers. you had switched to writing a biology report on your computer, the sound of the keyboard almost covering the sound of the door bell.
a bag of apples, a 2 minute lasagne, a bag of coffee, and a banana muffin.
“big night?”
“uh- what?”
“you got a banana muffin. i thought you were starting to become predictable.” you bagged his things as he chuckled, looking over you and your laptop. you noticed only because you were also looking at him, “biology report. wanna read it?” you joked, but he didn’t catch that part.
now he was behind the register, sat on your wheelie stool reading and editing your report while walking you through everything he was changing. you didn’t understand most, but you were just happy to stay around him. you weren’t even scared of Old Alan, the guy who only buys cucumbers and condoms. nobodies ever asked him, don’t think anyone wants to know.
“what’s your word limit?”
“3500.”
“only 3500?” he gave you a raised eyebrow, voice getting slightly higher. he coughed, “sorry, that’s nearly impossible.”
you sigh, “i know… i’m y/n by the way. thought you should know who your helping cheat.”
“i’m not helping you cheat, i’m just… editing,” he hit backspace a few times with a lowered bottom lip, “my names spencer.”
you smiled and crossed your arms as you leaned against the counter. spencer. yeah, that sounded nerdy enough.
pt. 2
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soulofapatrick · 8 months
Text
Wheels up in thirty - Aaron Hotchner x Female reader
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Summary: You and Hotch finally get physical and its so much better than you had ever thought it could be
Words: 1.9K
Warnings: smut; p in v; somewhat rough; dom/sub; kinda porn with no plot; plot if you squint
Notes: I need to be stopped, Hotch needs more fiction
Y/N's POV
I’m not sure how I ended up here again, straddling Hotch’s waist in just my panties and him in just his boxers. His hands are gripping my hips hard enough to leave bruises as he guides me along the length of his clothes crotch. The tip has escaped his waistband, red and angry and dripping precum that I want to lick up but I can’t move. 
“H-Hotch.” I choke out in frustration when his phone starts ringing, mine buzzing across the room in my to go bag that was thrown haphazardly across the room somewhere. 
He surprises me by ignoring it, instead choosing to make me rise to my knees to he can shimmy out of those black boxers, dick springing up and I think I almost come right then and there at the sheer size and girth of him. His left hand goes back to my hips, slotting in the dip as if my body was made just for him. His right pushes my panties aside so grip the base of his girth, lining myself up before slowly beginning to sink down. The stretch burns but it’s oh so beautiful, this being the first time we’ve gotten this far. 
I still remember Hotch admitting his feelings for me one night after a particularly stressful case, both of us sat in his office on the sofa. Everyone else had gone home but I had nothing to go home to so I sat there with Hotch, the heat of his skin searing as he turned and kissed me. 
“Hotchner.” My head flies down to see Hotch has finally answered his phone, his hand on my hip not haltering its gentle push and pull. It has my jaw falling open at the pure scandal of what Hotch is currently doing when he says, “JJ, we’ll be there as soon as.” He swallows hard when he realises he said ‘we’ “Yes. Alright see you soon.”
His head falls back into the pillow when I rock my hips gently, hanging up and throwing his phone in the top drawer of his bedside table, cognac eyes fluttering open to meet mine, darkening so much they’re almost black. He sounds so wrecked already, a light sheen of sweat over his skin, his dark hair pressed against his forehead and the sight of him alone has me rocking my hips even more slowly, grinding into him. 
A surprised sound leaves my throat when one of his hands tangles in my hair ad tugs as he’s suddenly flipping us over. My nails are digging into his biceps until he moves one hand between us to rub circles into my clit to distract me from the new angle that has him buried to the hilt. I swear I can feel every bump and ridge of him against my fluttering walls as I find his now damp messy hair and tugging almost harshly but he just moans, loud and dirty, “C-Can I?” He sounds like he’s choking, trying to keep his hips as still as he can as to give me time to adjust to the new angle. 
I don’t reply, just wrap my legs around his waist, heels digging into his lower back and he gets the hint. He pulls out until just the tip is in before slamming back to the hilt, dragging such loud moans from both of us, his lips move down my chest until they’re enclosing around one of my nipples, one hand finding my hand and intertwining our fingers while the other hand digs into my hips to stop me shifting up the bed as he sets an almost brutal pace. It adds to the almost overwhelming pleasure and I don’t think I’m going to last long with how I’m already clamping around him and my thighs are shaking and Hotch can tell as there’s a smile etches into my skin as he moves his lips back to the soft spot just below my jaw. 
“Come for me princess.” His thumb rubs along my bottom lip and I’m sucking it into my mouth, tasting the saltiness on it and without warning my back is arching, yanking him into a bruising kiss as my body writhes and tries to move away from him as he continues to pound me into the bed, my eyes rolling into the back of my head, “That’s it darling, I’ve got you.” Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes as I come down from my high almost too quickly, body trying to wriggle away from him but his hands are flying to hold me in place as he continues to whisper lovingly into my skin, “One more princess, just one more.” 
“Aaron,” I choke out, “P-phone-“ His phone is buzzing frantically in the bed side table but he ignores it so I do too, wanting everything Hotch has to offer me. My nails are raking down his back as another builds so quickly, my legs trembling and he’s picking up the pace, hips slamming into mine hard enough to bruise but it just adds to my heightened overstimulation. His every touch is like fire against my skin and his kisses are messy with lips crushing and teeth clashing but it’s perfect. I get lost in the heat of his body flush against mine, the smell of arousal and sweat heavy in the air and the salty taste as I reciprocate the hickeys all over his neck to try and stave off my second orgasm knowing I’m not going to last, knowing I’ll have to worry about the hickeys covering both of us later. 
Apparently it’s too much for Hotch as his hand that was holding my hand moves to lightly grip my throat, his breath hot against my shoulder as his thrusts get sloppy. He’s hitting that spongy spot every time and suddenly, without warning his hips are slamming into mine once more and I can feel him shoot thick rope after thick rope against my walls, filling me up. The feeling mixed with the pressure on my neck has my vision whiting out and I think I can hear myself almost screaming Hotch’s name as wave after wave of pleasure rolls over me and I think I pass out fro a moment or two. 
My eyes are fluttering open to Hotch stroking my hair, “There you are sweet girl,” he’s cooing, lips pressing sweet and gentle kisses to my skin, “I’ve got you, come back to me princess.” He’s gentle with every movement as he slowly pulls out, both of us wincing a little and I try to raise myself to my elbows but they give way almost immediately and he feels it as he’s chuckling, “Stay right there, let me grab our clothes. You can rest in the car.” 
Oh god, the case. I must look just as much of a mess as Aaron looks as he climbs off the bed. I can feel his seed leaking down my thighs and staining the sheets but I’m too spend and sated to care, groaning weakly when Hotch's hands are back on me, the fabric of a damp cloth wiping away as much of the mess as he can before his hands are guiding my legs into my panties and jeans. He’s then pulling me to my feet. Bad move as my legs are shaking so much they give way and he’s catching me, wrapping his arms around my waist as he buttons my jeans up with one hand. A sweet kiss is pressed to my neck as he sits me back onto the bed, in the spot that isn’t soiled before he’s fumbling around the room again then my bra is being put in place and clasped with ease. 
“I’m so proud of you princess.” Hotch praises, a soft sound leaving him when my thighs clench together involuntarily at the praise despite my body not being able to take another orgasm, wanting to snuggle into his strong and safe arms and sleep. But his famous Hotch jumper is being pulled over my head and I’m weakly pulling my arms through the sleeves as he cleans himself up and gets into a fresh pair of boxers and suit trousers.
My jaw drops when take a proper look at Hotch as he reaches into his bedside table to answer his phone that is buzzing again. He’s standing there, phone to ear, listening to who I’m guessing is Emily telling him off for not answering their frantic calls. I currently don’t care, unable to take my eyes off the hickeys of varying sizes and colours all over his neck and chest and the raised and raw scratch marks going down his back, some of them speckled with blood. It’s a mixture of embarrassment and pride that fills me, knowing that we’ve left physical marks on each other. 
“Yes Emily, I have Y/N. We’ll be there in twenty minutes. We’ll meet you at the jet.” With that Hotch hangs up, cognac eyes landing on me again and darkening slightly as he takes me in, my legs still shaking a little before he has to shake his head and find a suit shirt and jacket. 
We make it to the runway with three minutes to spare and the hickeys and marks still very visible as it was cover them and miss the jet or make it and ignore everyone’s comments. 
As we step into the cabin, the atmosphere shifts. Eyes dart towards me and Hotch, lingering on the conspicuous mark adorning both our necks and the fact I’m wearing Hotch’s jumper. Whispers flutter through the air like wayward butterflies, tinged with curiosity and amusement, as the team members look at the scene before them. 
Morgan’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he exchanges knowing glances at Emily who sighs and hands him some money as JJ attempts to stifle a giggle behind her hand across from them. Garcia, ever the theatrical, widens her eyes in exaggerated shock, her hand flying to her mouth in an ever so theatrical gesture of astonishment. 
Rossi, ever the observant one, arches one eyebrow in amusement, his lips quirking into a sly smile as he takes in the sight of us. His gaze holding a mixture of amusement and approval, silently acknowledging the feelings finally accepted between me and Hotch even if it was done in a very unprofessional way. 
The comments come in a flurry, a blend of teasing remarks and playful backer, laced with the underlying affection shared among the members of the team. Despite the teasing, there is an unmistakable sense of camaraderie, a bond forged through countless missions and shared experiences, that holds everyone together even in the most unconventional of moments.
Hotch presses a gentle kiss to the side of my head, moving his hand from the small of my back as I smack Morgan’s arm lightly, passing them all to fall into the seat next to my best friend - Spencer - who hasn’t said a word. I rest my head on his shoulder and smack his leg as I feel his shoulders moving with silent laughter, everyone going back to teasing me and Hotch as the case can wait until we get there. 
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Criminal Minds Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023
@guacam011y @rosaliedepp @kajjaka
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annievrse · 4 months
Text
origami flowers
sebastian x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb
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you hear a familiar voice call your name as you trudge down the hallway of weston college, your shoes clicking against the concrete floor. you're not sure where you're going; being the faux nurse of the school while ciel and sebastian figure out why children are going missing gives you more free time than you're used to. but with no need to go to the infirmary, you've been exploring the campus.
pausing mid-step and spinning, your eyes widen when you see ciel running towards you.
"young master?" your voice goes up an octave in surprise. "what happened?" you ask, your voice sharp with concern.
the younger boy pants with his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. "we have an... issue..."
you glance behind you to check nobody is coming and lean down—it's a good thing everybody is in class. "where's sebastian?"
ciel gives you a worried look and stands straight, his hand wiping the perspiration from his forehead. "that's precisely the problem... i don't know."
furrowing your brows, you sigh and stride past your master. ciel's calls of your name fall on deaf ears as you make a beeline for your infirmary. "i apologise, young master. follow me."
ciel shakes his head in disbelief at the random demand but follows you nonetheless, his steps quickening to catch up to you.
"shouldn't you be in class?" you tease, turning the corner.
ciel rolls his eyes and huffs in annoyance. "i was, but i broke the quill i was using, and i was sent to my dorm to retrieve another."
"i see," you smirk, trying to hold back your giggle. "and did this broken quill have anything to do with the fact that you haven't seen sebastian since last night?"
"perhaps..." he eyes you suspiciously. and then his face slackens and he glares at you. "you know where he is."
you wave your hand flippantly. "i have an idea."
fishing the key to your temporary office out of your blazer pocket, you slide it into the keyhole and twist.
and low and behold, ciel's butler sits hunched over your desk.
ciel lets out a strangled sound and steps into the clinic. "what the devil are you doing in here?"
"my lord," sebastian raises his head in surprise, something foreign to both you and your young master.
sighing, you approach him, watching his hands fold paper delicately.
ciel just shakes his head at the pile of origami flowers overflowing onto the floor next to sebastian. "playing with paper, are we?"
you notice what ciel does a moment later, your cheeks warming at the sheer amount of work he had done. "seb..."
sebastian stands, paper flowers falling from his lap onto the floor as his hand comes to rest on his chest. "i apologise, my lord, i did not realise the time."
he doesn't meet your gaze as you pick up a pink flower and twirl it between your fingers.
ciel narrows his eyes but says nothing at the sight.
"i was unaware i was occupied for this long, my lord. i will get to making the pastries for afternoon tea shortly."
ciel shakes his head, turning toward the door. "no need. they are no longer required. i will handle the situation myself."
sebastian nods despite knowing ciel cannot see. "indeed."
"just be in your office tonight so we can prepare for soma's arrival."
lowering his head, sebastian bows. "yes, my lord."
and when the door to your clinic closes, sebastian's hand returns to his side. "i saw one of the students making them," he gestures to the flowers. "do you like them?"
you smile and nod. "they're incredible, sebastian."
leaning over your desk, he gathers his creations, and before your eyes, they transform into a bouquet. your eyes widen at the sight, and you look up at him. sebastian's cheeks are dusted pink, though you deduce it to the lighting because he doesn't show such emotion.
"these are for you," sebastian mutters, handing you the bunch.
your breath gets caught in your throat before you whisper, "thank you."
a smirk pulls at the corner of sebastian's lips, and he nods once. "you're welcome, dearest."
you turn away from his piercing gaze, grasping the flowers in your arms. "next time you stay in my bed, don't become so distracted from your duties that ciel has to come to me to find you."
this time, sebastian's lips morph into a smug smile. "of course. it won't happen again."
and when you put the origami flowers into an empty vase, you know he's running through all the scenarios where he could do exactly that once more.
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lovisyandereblog · 9 months
Text
Eyes on Me
Yandere Submissive Stalker X GN Reader
Part 3! Probably last part….maybe
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Part 1 and 2 here. Also guys Im so sorry for my mistakes in my last post! I accidentally used she/her pronouns in my writing, I genuinely didn’t even realise it. Im so sorry guys!!
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7 weeks. It had been 7 long fucking weeks and you were still stuck here.
Noah had kept you captive for nearly two months now, but he never let you feel like you were one.
He would gift you things you wanted nearly everyday, Noah would cook your favourite dishes for you, he would shower you with love and affection, always making sure your every want and need was met.
All he asked for in return was your love…thats all he wanted.
And it seemed like you were slowly giving in.
What else could you do?! He was so adorable, so cute, so kind, so sweet…you were slowly becoming more lenient towards him.
For example, you weren’t kicking, hitting or screaming anymore. You were eating your food rather than throwing it away and yelling. And you were a bit more welcoming to his kisses, his soft and loving kisses.
Noah was also letting you roam free in his large house. You had an idea of who he was now. Noah was a very famous doctor, and was very wealthy. He was a psychiatrist who always treated his patients with care and love, never making them feel like they were a burden.
But although he let you roam the house freely, he never let you outside.
Creak…
The door opened and you stared at it, the same sweet smile you saw everyday greeting you.
“Good morning my love~!! Have you had a nice nights sleep?” Noah came closer to you, stroking your cheek and kissing your forehead. You were so used to it at this point that you didn’t even bat your eye at his affection.
“ `Morning…” You mumbled as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, sitting up slowly.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in the mornings~?” Noah said in a sing-song voice, twirling a piece of your y/c hair with his finger.
You tried to hide your blush as you turned your head away, “W-whatever…”
Noah chuckled and kissed your cheek again, “Come! Go get freshened up and lets have breakfast! I’ve asked the cook to make you your favourite french toast!”
He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to praise him. He practically lived for your praise and attention, but you would rarely give it to him.
“Oh..thank you Noah..Ill go get ready…” You murmured as you rushed to the toilet. Noah watched you go, hearts practically engrained in his eyes. For you. Just for you~
At the breakfast table, Noah was staring at you lovingly as he fed you the toast.
“I can feed myself…” You tried to protest, but he whined.
“P-please! Please let me Y/N…Im begging you~” His eyes were so cute, you just couldn’t help but give into his pleads.
“Fine..just stop looking at me like that…” You replied hastily, and he immediately brightened up and went straight back to feeding you.
After your 5th or 6th bite, you started feeling quite full, putting your hand up to stop the bite in Noah’s hand to come near your mouth. He nodded and ate the bite himself, smiling at you with such a lovesick grin.
You swallow nervously, looking at him. You had to ask him a question really badly, it was really important, “Noah?”
“Yes my angel, my love, my darling~?” Noah answered, hearts in his eyes as he looks at you. You had to keep yourself from smiling at his cheesy terms of endearment.
“Can you please let me go outside? I haven’t seen the outside world in like 2 months…” You complained, making him frown immediately and look away.
“Y-Y/N, you know how sorry I am…I feel so guilty baby…” Tears already filled his eyes as he spoke, making you sigh as you always gave into his tears.
“But…but I can’t let you go…Im scared you’re going to leave me. I can’t live without you my love…I’ll die!” Noah started to cry, holding your hands and bringing it to his heart. On the inside, he knew he was manipulating you but what else could he do?! He genuinely did love you so so much.
He loved you to the point of obsession.
You thought to yourself as you just stared at him, he sniffed and gave you puppy eyes. You knew you had to do something in order to get out of this place, otherwise he’d just keep you locked up forever. You wanted your life back and you knew just how to do it.
It involved giving into Noah’s love in order to regain your freedom. There was no other way. You had tried to escape in the past but he always…always found you.
“Noah…if I become your..partner..will you let me have more freedom?” You asked, and he immediately jumped up, looking at you hopefully.
“Y-Y/N?! Are….are you being serious?!” Noah couldn’t believe it, all his hard work finally paid off. You would finally be all his.
“Yes Noah, I’ve thought about it a lot and I want to start a relationship with you, but you have to promise you’ll let me go-” You had barely finished your sentence when he suddenly fainted, making you let out a loud scream.
You immediately went on your knees, cradling him in your lap as you tried to nudge him awake.
‘What the fuck??’ You thought to yourself as you check his pulse and sighed in relief when it’s normal.
“Now what am I to do with you…” You mumble to yourself before a plan comes to mind.
Paybacks a bitch…
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Noah woke up with a groan, his eyes slowly opening yet his sight was still hazy.
‘What happened…?’ He thought to himself as he tried to sit up, but his eyes widened when he couldn’t move. He looked up and saw his wrists were tied together and attached to the headboard of the bed. To add to this, his ankles were tied to the bottom poles of the bed. He looked down and noticed he was now wearing only his boxers and a t-shirt.
He thrashed around, trying to get out of his restraints to no avail. This couldn’t be happening. Where the hell were you?!
Noah began to sob and panic as millions of thoughts raced through his poor little head. He started to think of how you had left him and he’d never see you again.
“Y/N!! P-PLE-HIC-PLEASEE I’M S-SORRY…DON’T L-LEAVE ME…I’LL DIE W-HIC-WITHOUT YOU!!!” He was genuinely going crazy without you, where did you go?? Why would you leave him? Was he not good enough?! He’d change for you—he will; just give him a chance!!
“Y/N!! C-COME BA—” His words were cut off by you suddenly placing a hand over his mouth, “Shut the fuck up,” You seethed, glaring at him as he looked up at you with teary blue eyes.
Where you came from, he didn’t know but he was just happy that you were here. Although he was genuinely scared from how angry you looked, he couldn’t help but feel relieved at the fact that you hadn’t left. He was so delusional that he thought you had came back for him❤️❤️❤️ (A/N he’s so weird I love him)
But he also had a little problem because of you on top of him; all of his fantasies were coming true. Oh god just ruin him already!!
He whined against your hand and tried to buck his hips up, making you grip onto his mouth even harder, “I said shut up you fucking brat, can’t listen to simple instructions?”
The mix of your strong body on top of him and your cruel words made the poor boy’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his back arched; pathetic moans leaving him.
No way….did he just….?
You look down and saw a wet patch forming on his crotch, you internally smirked at how much of an effect you had on him but you had to keep up your strict persona, “Did you just fucking cum, you slut?”
Noah panicked, his pretty eyes filling with even more tears as he shakes his head “no,” worried that you’d be disgusted with him. (He secretly wanted you to treat him like trash)
But could you blame him for cumming?? You were literally on top of him looking as beautiful as ever, whispering demeaning words at him and you expected him not to cum?
“Mmm…n-not a s-slut…” He tried to mumble against your hand, looking at you with such love in his eyes. You nearly felt bad for him.
You suddenly slap him on the face, making him whine out in pain and pleasure as he breathed heavily from the release of his mouth from your hand. You took a second to admire the sight below you:
His blonde locks were messy, bangs sticking to his forehead. His cheeks were all rosy and wet with tears as was his mouth which was covered in his drool. Noah’s big blue eyes were looking to the side, embarrassed to face you as he bit his pretty pink lips.
You gripped his hair roughly, making him whine out, “Did I say you could talk back? Did I say you could fucking look away?”
He shook his head frantically, mentally face palming himself for disobeying you, “N-no! No…‘mm sorry!! S-sorry…please…”
“Sorry’s not going to cut it pretty boy…I think I need to teach you a lesson hmm? For all the bad things you did…” You leaned in close to his ear and he could feel his dick harden again from your proximity, “….for kidnapping me, keeping me locked up here…you’ve been a bad boy haven’t you~?”
Noah had started to sob, tears cascading down his adorable pink cheeks; he didn’t want to be a bad boy!! He wanted to be good, so good, for you!
“N-no! Mm so-sorry!! I’m n-not a bad boy! I-I’m a g-good boy…your good boy!!” He desperately begged, looking up at you in hopes you’d believe him. He knew what he had done was wrong but his intentions were never bad, he promises!!
You couldn’t help the heat pooling in your lower stomach from the way he was begging, god his desperation was so hot. So what if he was a deranged, psychotic, obsessive lunatic? He was cute!!
“But you haven’t proven to me you’re a good boy…so a punishment is really needed~” You said with a devilish smirk forming on your face, making both his heartbeats race (if you get what I mean💀💀)
You lean over and open one of the drawers, an assortment of items you had bought while he had been unconscious. His eyes widened in fear and excitement as he saw you bring a ball gag to his mouth, “Mmnnoo!! Y-Y/N!!” He tried to beg but you had already sealed his mouth shut.
Then you proceeded to pick up a remote like device you bought, Noah looked at it in confusion while tilting his head. You smirked at how adorable he looked, he didn’t know what he had gotten himself into.
With the click of a button, Noah’s back arched as he felt pleasure coursing through his body. He hadn’t even realised that a vibrator was lodged inside him! You must have put it in while he was unconscious.
“MMMNNGGH~!” He moaned against the gag, his body twisting and shaking, poor little baby was so sensitive!
You turned the vibrator off and he slumped down, his chest heaving, “Now for your punishment, I’m going to leave you here with that vibrator on and you’re going to cum over and over again until I’m satisfied, do you understand?”
Noah’s eyes widened and he shook his head profusely. This wasn’t what he wanted, he wanted to feel you, to touch you, to have you make him feel good; not this stupid toy!
He also didn’t want to be alone, he felt like he’d die if you weren’t near him so he began to cry, “N-noooo!! Mmm stayy!” His voice came out muffle which only made you smirk even more.
It was evident you were a sadist; seeing him whine and beg like that really turned you on. However you were doing this also to make sure it was engrained in his head who was in charge: you. It was to make sure he’d never pull a stunt like this again and would also prove his obedience to you.
“You said you wanted to be my good boy didn’t you Noah~? So be a good boy and take it.” You said sternly, turning the vibrator on once more before walking out of the room, leaving the door open a little bit so you’d hear him.
His moans and cries followed you as he begged for you to come back, but with the gag in his mouth he could only do so much.
Noah’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he came again with a cry, his boxers were now dirty with his jizz. He sobbed as the vibrations bullied his poor prostrate, he wanted you to make it feel better, please come back!
And then he came for the third time, and the fourth and then the fifth. It felt like hours had gone by (it had only been 30 minutes) since you left him in this state; his whole body was shaking as his hips bucked to try and get away from the vibrations but to no avail.
“Nnnngghh~!! ‘S t-too m-much…too much!” He whined, mainly to himself but it came out as mixed garbles.
You finally graced him with your presence and entered the room, your own arousal building up at the sight of him. But you also felt pity on him, it was clear that he had never felt the touch of anyone his entire life—let alone come numerous amounts of times!
He hadn’t noticed you came in yet, his mind was all foggy and hazy; the only thing he could focus on was the vibrations in his ass.
You say next to him and his head immediately darted towards you, tears pooled his eyes and he begged you to make it stop, “P-pleasshh~” He tried to say but the gag and the tormenting toy stopped him from being able to vocalise himself.
You cooed at him and turned the vibrations to the lowest level, yet not quite turning it off yet, “Have you learnt your lesson~?” You ask, and he nods eagerly and tries to get closer to you: to feel your comfort, your warmth, your affection, your love~
You take mercy on him and take out the gag since it was clearly hurting his jaw, he lets out a moan of relief as incoherent ‘thank yous’ and ‘I love yous’ leave his mouth.
“Shhh…it’s okay, I’ve got you~” You whisper in his ear, you gently take his underwear off and take the vibrator out, making him whine, “Mmmh…s-sensitive..ahhnngh~”
He gave you such adorable eyes, pleading for you to make him feel better so you cupped his face, “Don’t worry, I’ll take all the pain away, I promise…you’re my good boy right~?”
As soon as he heard the words, “Good boy,” he immediately nodded like a mad-man, “Mmm your good boy! P-please…please…y-yours…”
You could tell he was extremely exhausted from the torment you put him through, so you untied his wrists and ankles which made him cling onto you like a spider monkey; you let out a soft chuckle, “Noah…you have to let me go…I need to clean you up…”
“N-no! D-don’t go…please…” Tears pooled his eyes yet again, making you coo at him which he melted to.
“Shhh…alright, we can cuddle for a bit but then I have to clean you okay~?” You wrapped your arms around his waist aswell, being careful not to touch his very sensitive lower body.
Noah could still feel the tingles and electricity coursing through his body, but once you held him in your arms—he felt all that pain go away. He snuggled further into you, his face buried in your neck.
“I love you so much…I love you Y/N..” He mumbled against your skin, kissing it softly.
And you found yourself saying something you’d never imagine saying the first day you met him;
“I love you too Noah~”
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Ahhhh! Finally finished this!!
—>my masterlist <3
Tags❤️ (you can asked to be tagged for any of my posts):
@vinivave @eternalmasquerading
mdni banner used from @cafekitsune !!
2K notes · View notes
sturnsmadl · 13 days
Text
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bf!matt headcannons!
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warnings!- swearing, angst (light ig), mostly fluff, some smut, not proof read, lover boy matt tbh, cuddling, kissing, idk what else :).
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bf!matt who loves holding hands.
bf!matt who is possessive at parties.
"who's that?"
"some drunk guy. thought i was his girl."
"right.."
kisses you
bf!matt who refuses to let you do anything.
"the laundry.."
"nuh uh. move."
bf!matt who ties your shoelaces for you.
"i can do it matt."
"so can i."
bf!matt who keeps his hands warm in your jeans back pocket.
bf!matt who loves physical touch.
bf!matt who always drags you on late night walks during fall.
"we went last nightt!!"
"babe. fall doesn't last forever."
bf!matt who wipe your tears and hugs you when your upset.
"shh..your okay.."
bf!matt who adores carrying you.
"matt i can walk."
"i knowww. but carrying you is fun."
bf!matt who gets you a cat.
"its for you!"
"is it..?"
"i mean...mainly me..but yeah.."
bf!matt who can't stop touching you.
"matt its too hot. let go."
"your too hot."
"fuck off matt."
laughs
bf!matt who isn't massive on PDA but will do small touches.
bf!matt who loves hooking up in his car.
"fuck...yes baby.."
"matt! yes..fuck! yes!"
bf!matt who gets hard from you just sitting in his lap.
bf!matt who is definite that you're the mother of his children.
"we all have that phase matt."
"its not a phase. she's gonna be the mother of my kids chris."
"okay buddy.."
bf!matt who buys you a lot of makeup.
bf!matt who loves giving you hugs and cuddling.
"hi baby."
"oh hi. your back early huh?"
"yep..cuddles?"
bf!matt who made you your own drawer in his room.
bf!matt who always wants to be helping you.
"okay..lets wash this hair. huh?"
"i can wash it.."
"your tired and i love you so im gonna help."
bf!matt who needs to be near you at all times.
"where'd you go?!"
"to the bathroom.."
"jesus..could've told me.."
"wha- yeah..okay. go to sleep."
bf!matt who sits outside the shower door while you shower.
"and i was thinking. what if i just taught you to drive?"
"do we need to talk about this while im showering?"
bf!matt who loves filming sex tapes, especially backshots.
bf!matt who is extremely moody when you're gone.
"matt can you take the-"
"fuck off!"
"jesus..the fuck happened to you.."
bf!matt who hates arguing but you clearly pushed too far.
"probably my other man."
"what...?"
"what? i was kidding..matt.."
bf!matt who gives you silent treatment all day.
"can we talk..matt? come on.."
bf!matt who just cooks for himself he's so mad.
"you made my favourite? oh.."
walks away with a plate for himself
"fucking hell.."
bf!matt who doesn't pay attention to your apologies.
bf!matt who shoves past you, not realising how strong he is.
bf!matt who feels horrible when he accidentally hurts you.
"ow.."
"oh shit.. sorry baby. im so sorry okay? you're okay.."
bf!matt who finds you crying and is immediatley there.
"hey..is it still hurting? im so sorry.."
"no..im pregnant.."
bf!matt who attacks you with a hug when he finds out your pregnant.
"what?! oh my..oh my god! yes yes yes!"
bf!matt who is obsessed with your bump.
"so cute. a whole life's in there.."
"yep..you excited?"
"so."
bf!matt who is extremely overprotective while your pregnant.
"no!!"
"jesus..what?!"
"i can load the dishwasher. you sit."
"you made it sound like i was commiting a crime.."
bf!matt who always texts you while he's filming/streaming.
"can you put your phone down for 2 minutes??"
"yeah one second.."
"you said that 5 minutes ago!"
bf!matt who lets you force him into doing a tiktok dance with him.
bf!matt who freaks out at the birth.
bf!matt who takes the drive home a bit too carefully.
"babe, i know your nervous but we are barely moving."
"im not hurting the baby. im doing 20.."
"thats the problem."
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a/n- this is just general bf matt unlike my others but yeah so this may push me back into my break because its absoulutely awful!! but im thinking of doing a halloween theme, doubt ill pull throught though! im so tired :)
taglist! @bellaonthelow @hrtsdollie @sturnclouds @christophersgf @ellizzyy @moonk1ss3d @phoenix062 @pixxiies @conspiracy-ash @blahbel668 @monroesturnns @gwennybenny @sturnobsessedwh0re @xoxo4chriss @pixie-sticks-are-good @wurlibydominicfike @anitahunt @ilusa @mattstrombolii @stvrlighht @asherrisrandom @amelia-sturniolo3 @lianomer
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