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#and then when I went to go get him a bring him back
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I'm right here! (Oscar Piastri)
People seem to forget you're dating Oscar
Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece 🫶
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: jealous themes
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
"Do you think this will translate as well on the track though?", Phil, the head of the engineering department, asked as you showed him the latest set of data.
"Even with the interval we've set for changes, these numbers show it could improve performance, especially in race pace", you pointed to the calculations on the side.
"We would only have it for Miami, though", he reasoned, "we don't have enough time to get this done for Shanghai and I don't think it would be wise to test this in a track we haven't raced in five years", Amelia argued as you nodded in agreement, "but it looks promising - good job, Y/N", she patted your back.
"Would you feel comfortable talking about it in the meeting with Zak, Andrea and the mechanics? You have been the one working the most with this, makes sense for you to be the one taking point. Lando and Oscar should join you as well - I think they're doing something on the Sim", William mused.
"Absolutely! Yes, Oscar said he was driving a new set up and strategy Tom also wants to discuss in the meeting", you offered with a smile.
"Having insider information makes this easier - I don't have to check every single e-mail and wonder about things, especially Oscar's schedule", Amelia chuckled, rubbing your shoulder before she got up.
As everyone gathered in the meeting room, you set your laptop up so the latest data would be seen by everyone as you spoke about the changes, "we don't think nor expect this will be ready for China, but we're hoping to have the new package in Miami already - gives us enough time to work on it and the track there is ideal for us to have an idea of how this could play out for the rest of the season", you concluded.
"I agree - I think China will be damage control racing and we're accepting it as it goes", Andrea stated.
"We just need to get going with these then and also get the guys to try it out on the- Oh! Speaking of the devil", Zak chuckled as Oscar and Lando stepped inside the meeting room.
"So that's that, I think - thank you for all your work and let's hope we can bring some points next weekend", the British driver said before everyone scattered out.
Closing your laptop and getting your tablet, you held them against your torso so you could go and set them back to your station before lunch. You didn't make it very far as Oscar stood just outside the room, his hand snaking up your back carefully as he didn't want to startle you.
"Good morning, love", he smiled, kissing your cheek and walking with you.
"Morning, Osc", you kissed his cheek back, "how was training?", you wondered.
"Same old - went for a run this time, though, it was nice enough outside", your boyfriend offered as you reached your desk, tidying it a little bit before leaving to get some lunch, walking hand in hand.
You didn't expect to fall for a driver, especially after the relationship you had with Lando. You behaved like siblings, often pranking eachother, and it had helped you grow more confident around him and the senior staff when you felt you were all but a small intern. Over the years, you grew more comfortable as your ideas and pitches would get considered and tested, finally feeling like your place was well earned and that at the right time, the development would come to bring McLaren to the top where it belonged.
When Oscar joined the team, however, you didn't expect to feel the way you felt about the Australian driver. He was handsome, very shy and very kind and thoughtful as he sat all through the meetings as you explained the changes. Jeopardising your career was something you didn't want to do, but after some not so careful touches and glances, the team assured you it wouldn't be an issue in case you and Oscar were to pursue a relationship together.
"Here's my favourite team-mate! And she brought Oscar with her!", Lando joked as you sat at the same table as him.
Swatting his neck playfully, you sat down next to him so you could face Oscar as he put his tray down, "I will revoke new updates package from you and you'll be stuck in the midfield", you taunted before you started eating.
"Do you want to spend the night at my place? I need to sort a few things out still this afternoon, but I'm hoping I can leave on time today", you squinted your eyes.
"What do you mean on time?", Lando quirked an eyebrow.
"Yesterday, she got so caught up in the calculations, I barely got a text out of her when I asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me", Oscar chuckled as you held hands on top of the table, playing with his fingers, "what was it you texted me? 'I'm having a breakthrough' I think it was", your boyfriend offered.
"I did, though! Amelia checked it over and we might be onto something - I have to go to Race Base this afternoon so they can check them out", you shrugged your shoulders."We're spending the whole afternoon in the sim", Oscar checked with you, "when you get off, then we can leave together - how does that sound?".
Coming back to your place after you stopped by the supermarket, you set the bag on the counter and pulled out all of the ingredients you bought to make sure the dinner would be suitable and appropriate to Oscar's plan.
"I haven't had a proper cuddle today", Oscar pulled you to him, beggining to litter kisses on your forehead all the way to your cheeks and jaw, "I can't ever do this at the center", he mumbled against your neck, tickling you.
"We could, just where there are no other team members", you giggled before cupping his cheeks, "which happens to be nowhere most of the time", before you kissed his lips.
"I'm going to start working on the chicken", Oscar said after you stole a few kisses, "are you going to be in the Center for the race?".
"No, I'm travelling with the team", you smiled as you took the fresh pasta out of the bag, "which means we can spend more time together - and people will actually see us together", you mumbled the last part.
"People know we're together, love", he smiled, cutting up the last bit of garlic and tossing it in the pan.
"Sometimes it doesn't seem like it - they didn't see me in Jeddah and the rumours flew out of control", you wiped your hands on the kitchen towell before hugging Oscar's back, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.
"You know how the media works - they see the smallest hint to something they want to see and then they're there", he offered, taking one of his hands to squeeze your hip, "you're the one here, aren't you?", he tsked.
.
"Where are you going?", Oscar asked as he saw you grab a tablet and push the chair back under the table, "I thought we could have some time together now".
"The stewards picked out eight cars at random to get checked over a few components - Mike and Barry are waiting for me", you offered, pecking his lips quickly, "hopefully they're just not messing around with our schedule because everything is supposed to be how it is!", you smiled before you started to walk out.
"I'll go with you, then", your boyfriend assured, "can't have you go to the wolves on your own when you can have company, beautiful".
Oscar walked up to the building with you, kissing your temple before you stepped inside, "I left some data from the sprint for you to look at, and tell Lando I also left a file for him with his tire deg - I told Will to do it, but he might forget!", you alerted before letting him go.
Knowing how long it would take, he went back to the McLaren garage, stopping whenever fans snapped a couple of pictures or autographs.
By the time you were back in the hotel room after the sprint and qualifying, Oscar went to the bathroom so he could have a shower, leaving you to lay on the bed and scroll through social media.
You looked at the photos the media team had posted, along with the stories where you could spot yourself in the background and spotted a few comments as you flicked through the carrousel of pictures, the comments under it weren't something you hadn't seen before.
Hear me out, Oscar and Elaine are the perfect match
I know, right? 😭 honestly, they need to get together! They would be so cute together
She's so polite and put together, but I get rhe vibe that she's really shy too, they would be perfect for eachother
Are we forgetting Y/N? aka Oscar's girlfriend
I still can't believe the people at the top have let their engineer date a driver
Y/N's way too out there, I call PR relationship
She couldn't even build a great car, I'm not sure why you would defend her
She was literally the reason the car and the turnaround last year and we started getting podiums?
These have been the best 12 months in terms of development, what are you on about? Just because she's with Oscar, you can't dig at her like that
The last few comments don't come up too often, but you had to admit it was nice when they did even if they did nothing to the way you felt.
The green eyed monster took over more times that you'd like. You work with numbers, probabilities and direct correlations, so it was hard to miss the reason behind how you were feeling.
"Why are you looking at your phone like that? You promised you wouldn't work once we got back to the room", Oscar warned, using the towell to dry his hair before he looked at you again.
"I'm not working", you mumbled, locking the phone and setting it on your stomach, pondering whether or not you should talk to Oscar about this.
"That long silence tells me that there is something bothering you", Oscar began, "I'm not saying you have to talk about it right now - I won't force you to -, but I'm here for you when you want to do it", he offered earnestly.
"I'm jealous of you and Elaine", you stated, earning a quirked eyebrow from your boyfriend.
"Me and Elaine? The communications' intern?", he looked for some clarification.
"Yes!", you answered loudly.
"We don't - I don't even spend that much time with her, what do you mean?", Oscar asked.
"I know you don't, but people online seem to think you should! First, it was that actress that McLaren invited for Abu Dhabi - the weekend where Natalie and Naomi kept approaching us because they wanted to chat and there was actual visual proof we were together after all the rumours -, now they're saying how you should go out with Elaine!", you admitted, "they're all saying you really should have someone and that she should be the one to go, that she has all the qualities you should look for and I-", you took a big breath in, "I'm literally over there, every single day of the races - in the garage, sometimes in the pitwall!", you stated, "I barely do any races from the Center anymore, so it's not like people forgot that I exist!".
"Love, I'd never do that to you - you're the only person I care about like that", Oscar replied instantly.
"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone when our relationship is public - I'm there, I see them, they see me!", you let a tear fall down your cheek, "there's only so much I can do to make it obvious, Osc!".
Oscar sat down next to you on the bed, throwing the towell on the floor for the moment so he could pull you to face him.
"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much, I don't even notice all of that", your boyfriend craddled your face in his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that continued to fall and looking into your eyes.
"I never told you and I know you don't read all of the comments", you reasoned, "I just thought it would stop at some point! Everyone keeps saying that you should have someone and I want them to think I'm that someone - because I am!", you said bitterly.
"Is there something you'd like me to do? That would make you feel better about it?", Oscar combed your bangs away and behind your ears.
"What can we do anyway? Have you walk around with a t-shirt that says "I have a girlfriend - Y/N, the engineer"?", you scoffed.
"I will do that if you think it will help - throw in a headband with "Y/N's boyfriend" too if it helps!", he tried to pry a smile out of you.
"Don't be silly", you playfully shoved his chest before holding his hands in yours, "I honestly have no idea what to do, but I know I want it to stop without putting our jobs on the line", you pouted.
"Maybe an Instagram post from us then? Something chilled but serious enough so anyone can get the hint - and I wouldn't mind arriving into the paddock with you in the morning", your boyfriend suggested.
"Oscar, I have to be there way earlier than you need to", you argued.
"Then I'll be there earlier, I'll have breakfast there with you and we'll spend more time together in front of everyone - as much as you feel comfortable with", Oscar offered you an assuring smile, "I don't want anyone else the way I want you, I don't love anyone the way I love you, Y/N".
Smiling at the honesty and safety he was transmitting you, you kissed his lips, starting with small pecks before one last long kiss, letting your foreheads touch as you pulled away, "thank you, Osc, I love you".
The next morning, reporters were surprised when they saw the McLaren driver show up in the paddock so early, his hand laced in yours as they asked a couple of questions.
"My girlfriend had to come in earlier, so I thought I'd join her and see a little bit of the preparations", Oscar replied before you continued to walk to the McLaren hospitality.
"Is it bring your boyfriend to work day?", Anna asked after her usual morning greeting.
"He's always with me at work though", you squinted before giggling, "but I really need people to know he's mine and that I'm here!", you half joked.
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jaegersdevil · 3 days
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fresh out the slammer [sukuna x reader] cw: singular mention of sa w/c: 1.1k a/n: all characters mentioned are 22, shoko is your best friend.
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"you're not meant to be here."
the man who stands at your doorstep scoffs. your 6 foot 3, pink-haired ex takes up the entirety of the doorway, and you have to force down the urge to jump him.
you tilt your head when he doesn't answer. "ryomen, you need to leave. right now."
a single eyebrows arches. "i know damn well you ain't talkin’ to me like that."
rolling your eyes, you know he won’t do anything you say. so, opening your front door wider, sukuna steps inside, his left hand scratching the back of his neck.
“see, being nice isn’t that hard,” he teases, glancing at you over his shoulder. sighing, you close the door, eyeing him wearily as he lingers in the hallway.
“new key hook?” sukuna smiles, pointing at the wall.
you shake your head in disbelief. “why’re you here?”
sukuna raises his eyebrows, spinning to face you. but you realise your mistake too late.
with the door at your back and nowhere to go, you’re cornered by your ex-boyfriend. yet, he seems to know exactly what he’s doing, with his tongue poking his cheek as he approaches.
“where were you on sunday?”
your breath hitches in your throat when he runs a finger along your collarbone, but you won’t let him get you that easy.
“nowhere,” you insist, staring him down. he always said you were brave for doing that — you were the only one to ever do so.
“funny,” the corner of his mouth turns upward. “i heard something different.”
you give him no reaction. besides, what’s it to him?
“ok, and?”
“ooo,” he laughs deeply, his head tilting. “so it’s true.”
“ryomen—“
“come on baby, you know that’s not my name to you.”
“ryomen,” you press, putting your hand on his chest to keep him at a distance. “you need to leave.”
the faux pout he gives you makes you want to slap him, but you can’t bring yourself to do something so heinous to him.
“fine,” you concede. “yeah, i went on a hinge date, so what?”
“so what?” sukuna mutters bitterly. “it’s not ‘so what’ when he tries to force himself on you, baby.”
your face heats at the mention of it. “sukuna—“
“and you didn’t think to tell me?” he presses his hand on the door behind you, his body dangerously close to yours.
“i was scared,” you whisper, gaze on his chest to avoid his eyes. you notice his body visibly relax, his head hanging closer to yours to hear. “i knew you would do something about it, and i didn’t want you to get in trouble.”
“you don’t need to worry about me,” sukuna asserts, his finger under your chin to lift your face towards his. “it’s already been taken care of, and i’m still here.”
your eyes widen slightly, head moving to look at his right hand on the door. spread on the brown wood is his hand, larger as always, the pale skin on his knuckles red and purple and bloody and you’re shocked you didn’t see it before.
reaching up, you grab sukuna’s hand to cradle it in your own. “you’re joking.”
“you’re not a joke to me, sweetheart.”
sighing, you side step him, holding his injured hand in your own. he follows mindlessly behind you, checking out his left hand that is just as bloody as the other.
entering the bathroom, you don’t need to tell him where to sit before you dig the first aid kit out of the cupboard beneath the sink. you hadn’t had to use it in a while.
“kuna,” you murmur, observing his hands. he doesn’t reply. instead, he watches you, like he always does.
faces level, you set everything onto the counter. standing between his thighs makes your body feel numb. and when one of his hands covers your hip, you focus on the other.
sukuna doesn’t flinch when you clean his knuckles with alcohol, and doesn’t object when you smooth frozen band-aids over the particularly bad cuts.
“thanks, baby,” sukuna says, not checking to see if you cleaned them correctly—you always do.
“don’t mention it,” you dismiss flippantly, putting the red soaked cloth in the sink and the aid pack back in the cupboard.
the silence is comfortable but charged with something you don’t want to acknowledge. the muted chatter from the tv in the living room penetrates the bathroom wall, and you come back to your senses.
“does shoko know?”
“she told me.”
you sigh, if she couldn’t get her hands on your hinge date, she’d tell someone who could—and he did.
“he had a bruise where you punched him,” sukuna quips. “but i may have made it worse.”
you twist your lips sheepishly. “yeah, well, i wasn’t letting him get away that easy.”
“that’s my girl.”
the comment makes your stomach flutter pathetically.
“you wanna stay over?” you blurt, face warm.
sukuna knows better than to tease you right now, so he nods, and stands from the closed toilet seat.
you swiftly leave the bathroom, pacing down the hallway to curl up on the couch. sukuna walks in idly, taking in the space he’s spent so much time in. one thing catches his eye, and then he’s poking fun at you.
“nice picture.”
your eyes dart to where he’s looking on the bookshelf, and god forbid, it’s a photo of the two of you at tokyo tower. but, you’re not embarrassed.
“yeah, i look hot.”
sukuna chuckles, sitting next to you and propping his feet up on the coffee table. “you look hot all the time, shut up.”
drawing in a breath, you can’t contain yourself anymore. you circle your arm around his neck, fingers threading through his pink locks. sukuna turns his head toward you, lips inches apart.
“feet off the table.”
“don’t tell me what to do.”
you snicker, brushing his hair off his forehead.
“fresh out the slammer,” you joke. “and you come here.”
“of course,” sukuna looks confused. “where else would i go?”
you bite the inside of your cheek to stop your emotions from showing.
“i don’t know,” you glance down at when his fingers play with the drawstring of your sweatpants. “a new girl?”
“please,” sukuna scoffs. “like anyone else would put up with my shit.”
you give him a deadpan look.
sukuna rolls his eyes. “you’re my pretty baby, i’ll always come home to you or whatever,” he says lazily.
you run your thumb over his cheekbone. "kuna.”
he raises his eyebrows in question, but he knows what you’re asking.
“i need something from you," you mumble, tracing his lips with your eyes.
"oh yeah?" he smirks, voice low. "and what's that?"
you shrug, licking your lips. “nothing.”
sukuna rolls his eyes and lifts your hips up and over him, your knees bracketing his thighs. you squeal softly, forgetting just how strong he is.
sukuna shifts his hips underneath you. “you’re so—”
“kiss me.”
you don’t have to tell him twice.
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hazelfoureyes · 2 days
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A Doe in Fall (part 5)
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⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 6 Posting Thursday April 25
Part 5 Too Much
Actions famously speak louder than words, so what did you say, exactly, to Alastor with your actions that night? You were briefly rattled by what happened in the park but not for the obvious reasons. Despite everything, despite your fears, you found the situation deepening between you two when he suddenly invites to stay the night at his home. Perhaps he had fears of his own?
「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, No smut! That’s next part because this part was already super fucking long 😭 , but we do flirt our asses off and get taken by the hand, crying, panic attacks, discussions of murder, dead bodies, you really have to stop smoking, deer, adorably nervous Alastor, this man owns more than one mug you fucking know it」
19 days later… 😩 please don’t kill me. 5000 words here, Another like 6000 words are posting this Thursday, also tumblr wouldn’t let me post this for like an hour , just gave me error messages, I had to copy and paste 4 times so there may be some errors in here so let me know if you find spelling or format issues🙏
When he came to, momentarily either unconscious or just incapacitated as his brain started up again, he was frantic for his glasses. He could hear the sounds of a brutal death, the crunch of anger, the squish of rage. 
His eyes focused now, slightly askew and smudged glasses helping him see you clearly. 
Leaning over the man, hands red and face twisted in a marriage of fear and wrath, you were bringing a large rock down on the man’s unrecognizable face over and over and over and—
You flinched when Alastor’s hands delicately slipped down your arms and peeled your fingers from the rock.
Full body shaking, “He was going to kill you!” You said it too loud, too fast. “He was going to—,” Your breath got caught in your throat, “He wanted to— He was trying to kill you, Alastor.”
Wet with mud and blood and the rain still left on the grass, you were pulled into Alastor’s lap. He tucked your head into the crook of his neck with a small wince and hugged you. “He was. He almost did.” Low and slow, his chest rumbled when he said it. “You did such a good job.”
You looked down at your hands, but he pulled your face back up to look at his, “Always surprising me in the best ways.”
You’d forgotten already, how when adrenaline wanes you’re left with terrible tremors and a suddenly clear head. Alastor almost died. You hadn’t thought at all when it happened. Everything had taken place so fast, faster than your brain could process.
You had seen Alastor stop struggling against the man, his body went still and your eyes were blinded with tears, there was a horrible sound that may have come from you, and then there was nothing. A flash of running Colors. Distant muddled sounds.
Maybe you saw someone grab a rock. 
You might have hit the man on the back of the head. 
You think he fell down and something didn’t stop moving against him. 
Perhaps you thought if you hit him enough you could make it have not happened at all. If you killed him fast enough, Alastor would have been fine and standing.
But you weren’t sure. You blinked and Alastor was touching you and underneath you was a pulp of a man’s face. 
Alastor’s heart was racking against his ribs. Arms tightening around you unconsciously as his eyes landed on the dead man.
He’d gotten too comfortable. He pushed too hard. He wanted too much. He was too much.
He felt himself spilling over and staining your hands metaphorically and now literally.
You didn’t feel anything. Not during. Now you felt too much.
Your mind was filled with an echoing chorus of, ‘He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost died. He almost died.” 
There was a strange fear that Alastor had died, and any second you’d blink again and be alone in the trees with two dead men. You twisted in his lap,  hands rocketing to Alastor’s face and gripping the sides of his head. You were staring into his eyes, panting.
“You can’t die. I’ll—,” tears poured down your face in streams not drops. Your throat closed around the words. Short and fast, your breath ran wild. Hands tingling, your lips felt like they were pricked with a hundred tiny needles. 
Alastor pushed down his own mess of emotions, “One deep breath in.” His hands settled on yours,  still on his face. He could feel the familiar stickiness of drying blood in his hair. “Keep breathing in.” You coughed, shaking your head no. “You can, I promise it. Would I lie to you?”
You laughed, managing to catch your breath for a moment, “Y-yes.” 
“Well, now you’re adding insult to injury.” He made a show of rubbing his neck. You smacked his chest lightly, breathing in twice in a row.
He held both of your hands in both of his, “Name a time I’ve ever lied.” He distracted you but wounded himself. He could name a time.
You tried to think. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re just a really good liar.” Your voice was hoarse. 
Alastor nodded, “That’s true, there’s actually nothing I can’t do well.”
Another laugh, a cry, “Stop it.”
His warm, clean hands wiped your tears. “You’re being aggressive again, sweetheart. You know I prefer soft spoken women.”
The laughter helped break the cycle of hyperventilating. As your breathing finally got to a manageable speed you felt exhaustion deep in your bones.
All at once the sensations became prominent. Your knees were red and muddy, your hands bloody, your left side and back wet. You were sticky and sore and cold. “Alastor,” his legs were framing you, yours now folded under yourself and digging into rocks, “I wanna go home.” You adjusted his glasses, “Together.” 
If he had a reason to say no, he ignored it. 
“I thought I was the messy one.” He washed your hands with the water cans and settled you into the passenger seat of his car. Alastor took care of filling the trunk and cleaning the ground before sliding into the driver's seat.
He turned to you, his face dirty and clothes worse. You looked down at yourself; knees a color of wine, and blue dress now dyed brown.
“I know you have to get rid of him. So, I won’t ask you to sleep over. Just,” you felt sleepy, mind asking you to let it catch up, “let me take care of you for a little bit. Okay?”
His hand slipped onto your leg, he wanted to make a joke about sex or murder hoping to make you laugh again. But it was obvious he needed to be quiet, so he just nodded.
Alastor left the car on a side street behind your building. The man whose name you never asked concealed under canvas and red oil tins.
Luckily everything was clean in your apartment. It was small, just one room and a bathroom. The other apartments you’d seen had communal toilets and showers so you were quite proud of your space. You’d made it yours, gifted trinkets here and there, walls decorated with hanging dried flowers you'd had thrown at your feet. A shrine to your abilities.
You peeled off his clothes, tossing them in the kitchen sink and wiping off as much dirt as you could with a damp rag. 
Clothing hanging over the radiator, you both got into the shower. Cold and wet now hot and soaking,  you took his hands and sat you both down in the tub while the water ran down. Taking your time, you gently scratched the blood and mud from his hair and let it all wash away.
When fully cleaned and dried off he slipped on the only bit of clothing he had left, a loose pair of boxer shorts. You had a slip, silky and soft, to comfort you. Your mother wore silk, and it always made you feel safe. The way the fabric slid around its self and others, never catching or bunching up, was something you always hoped to emulate; smooth and cool, but always in need of a little caution and care.
A small bed meant for one, but you offered it. When Alastor motioned for you to slide in too, you didn’t hesitate.
Nose to nose, the room was quickly heating up with the radiator's help. 
You hadn’t been in a bed with Alastor in nearly two months, not since that first time. His words stuck to you like embroidered messages lovingly stitched into a handkerchief you didn’t want to lose. So you kept your hands between your thighs, still and away, to make sure he had space to exist in your bed.
“You saved my life.” Alastor whispered, one of you finally bringing up the obvious.
A hummed acknowledgment, “That makes us even.” He saved you before, you did the same in turn. A little piece of you worried the contract was done and he’d disappear.
“No, my dear. I owe you so much more.” A kiss to your cheek.
A terrifying thought took hold of you. “Roll over.” He looked confused but did. You were always asking him to turn away, always trying to hide your face when you said things that scared you. You hooked your arms under his and held tightly. 
“If I wasn’t there, there’s no one to have told me. How long would I have waited,” another torrent of tears into his back you couldn’t keep in if you tried, “at the phone booth for you to call in the morning.”
You were crying like a child, uncontrolled and with your entire body. Pathetic. 
He had never had someone to worry about those details. Everyone truly close to him was dead. Until now, of course. 
Of course.
What a natural addition you provided to him. He thought it like that it was a long standing fact.
He hugged your arms tighter to his chest. 
A shiver of fear in the warm bed as you continued, “I want to be there. With you. Always.” You gathered your courage. Shields completely down, if just for a moment, “I know there was nothing right about tonight but,” you wiped your tears off his back with your palm, reabsorbing that pain before he could soak it in, “Please. Don’t shut me out now. I’ll go to hell tomorrow for you but please don’t damn me to picking up a newspaper and seeing your name in the headlines; Learning you died in block letters for a nickel. I wouldn’t survive it.”
You didn’t want to meet his eyes, worried rejection was waiting for you there, so you’d asked him to turn so you could hide. He picked up your hands and kissed your knuckles one by one. “Please don’t say things like that outloud. Things like ‘go to hell’ and ‘tomorrow’ so close together. The spirits can hear you.” A kiss to your palm, “And I wouldn’t dare shut you out.” He couldn’t. The very idea of going back to how he was before, alone and mumbling to the dead, made his heart race with his own panic. If you disappeared tomorrow he was scared to think what would happen to him. “Plus, I know you’d just find me anyway. You always do.”
Had you not been there, he would have still tried to kill the man. Waiting in an alley or for a walk home through an empty space. You weren’t at fault. He’d been hurt before, but this was by far the worst situation he had been in. But he would have been in it regardless of your participation. Alastor pressed his lips into your hand, smelling the soap you’d washed him with. 
You hadn’t hesitated. He had thought you would run, that he’d slip away into death and you’d book it to safety. Something he never planned to ask you to do, to kill someone, you’d done it for him when it was the most selfless option. Did he mean so much to you? He wanted to ask, but if you said anything other than an immediate yes he feared he would turn to a pillar of salt and crumble.
If you both could find the courage to just look at each other you’d have all your answers. But you couldn’t. The fear still too strong. So you changed the topic for a chance at an escape.
A small confession, to turn the conversation away from death. “After our dates, your cologne always lingers on my clothes. Sometimes I just fall asleep in them. When I wake up, my pillow smells like you.” Your body formed against his back, pressing as tightly as you could. How was that less embarrassing than everything else you’d said when it was arguably more pathetic?
He was quiet. You worried you’d pushed too far. Alastor worried he’d already hurt you too much.
“If you asked me,” he spoke slowly, hands resting on yours above his heart, a deep breath, “I’d stop.” He would. 
But, “I’d never ask that of you.” You said it so quickly, like blinking or yawning it happened without you needing to think about it. Alastor did something he felt he needed to do, you saw that look in his eyes before and understood this was Alastor at his truest. And the people he killed weren’t good people. He provided a service to New Orleans that no one appreciated.
He smiled against your palm, making sure you felt it, “Why are you so good to me?”
Without hesitation, Because I love you.
After a beat of silence, “Because you know where I live, obviously.”
A huff, “And where you work.” 
“And the park where I like to get fingered.”
Finally, his unburdened laugh, “I didn’t expect you to say that.” That sound of his joy bounced off the thin walls around you both. He rarely expected anything you said or did. It was part of your charm. Normally he could predict what people would say like reading a bad story, but you were something else. Effortlessly entertaining, was that a compliment? He was sure you’d say no and make that face you always did, something between a pout and a glare, between sad and angry. 
He had been asking genuinely. Why were you so good to him? Why so patient? Why care at all? 
“Can you sleep? Or do you need to go?” 
Alastor thought about it, if he left early enough he could still get home in time to empty the trunk. He hummed an affirmative, when he didn’t move you understood it was the former. He didn’t want to go. He needed more time. He needed to feel you nearby. An odd sense that if he pulled away now the thread holding you two together would pull him apart at the seams with the distance. 
You would think nightmares would plague you after killing someone in cold blood, but no. You practically killed Tommy, when you considered it thoroughly. And while this night was not a joy, you had defended yourself and Alastor. You didn’t feel bad. You didn’t regret it. You were just scared you did a bad job. That you’d get caught. 
The kind of dreams you had were different kinds of scary. Of Alastor always leaving a room when you entered, of falling off the stage and landing too far down, of waking up to feel Alastor cold beside you. 
When you did wake, your arms were still tight around him and he was warm. Your forehead rested between his shoulder blades. You didn’t feel different this time, you didn’t feel changed like after Tommy.
Alastor always had nightmares so he wasn’t surprised to have them in your bed. He dreamt he awoke on the ground, the man was gone but you were there broken into several pieces.
Had it been a dream though? 
After he dressed, you brushing his hair over a shared cup of coffee (you only had the single mug), you walked him to his car. The sun was nearly up and luckily no one else was. You had just wrapped a coat around your slip, not exactly acceptable clothing for being in public.
A shared kiss, small and chaste, Alastor’s mind elsewhere. He opened the door but stopped and turned back to you. It was always in these moments before you two parted that he felt the most frantic. 
“I know we love talking in circles and making jokes, but I have to ask you, bluntly. You killed a man. Are you alright?” When you only blinked, he quickly added, “It’s okay if you’re not.” His expression was pure worry, furrowed brows and flat mouth. “Nothing will change if you say you’re not.”
When you started to smile, Alastor thought he had lost his mind. The sun was rising behind you, making the shadows on your face slowly shift. He took a second to take in the scene. Ankles naked with sockless shoes. To your right was a trunk full of a dead man. And you just smiling like he’d made a joke. Which he explicitly said he wasn’t going to do.
“I don’t feel like I killed anyone.” You said it with a levity that made him glance around, wondering if you’d hit your head a little too hard earlier, “I feel like I stopped someone from killing you. Which feels,” you fought to suppress your smile from growing any further, “kinda good. Like I’m strong. I’m just scared I made a mistake and police will find out. I’m terrified we’ll be seperated. But I don’t feel bad.”
A normal man would be deeply concerned. You didn’t feel bad? For killing a man with a rock? Arguably one of the most brutal ways to murder a person. A normal man would worry he would be next.
Luckily for you both, Alastor was not a normal man. He stared at your face, trying to discern any hints of deceit there before he fell into the comfort of trust.
Your pinky came out, “I’m fine, and if I’m ever not, I will tell you. Promise.” His eyes left your face to stare at the tiny digit, “If I break the promise, you get to break the pinky.”
“Pinkies are useless, we should use a finger that matters.” He offered his index. You let yourself laugh, hooking your pointer finger with his.
Smile to smile, he exhaled his stress and slipped into his normal demeanor, “No worries, darling! No one will ever know what happened to him.” He leaned beside you and patted the trunk. “Leave it to me.”
Alastor drove away with the man, ready to disappear the body and try to sleep before work if possible. A nagging still sat in his stomach, a little pull that maybe you’d change your mind. 
He asked you the next morning, on your routine call, if he could stop by the theater when he finished with work that night. No reason in particular. He’d pull into the side street, and you could run out to see him.
When he arrived, you were in your stage outfit waiting to greet the crowd. Alastor smiled, “The prettiest bird I’ve ever seen!”
“A bird? Alastor just ‘pretty’ woulda been a fine compliment.” 
He offered an apology by way of kiss, soft hands coming to your cheek as he leaned against the door of his car. “I just wanted to see you. Steal a kiss before you stole some hearts. May I return tomorrow?”
Ah, that feeling again. Stupid school girl with her first crush, her first taste of love. “I wouldn’t complain.” 
That flow of conversation eased Alastor, things felt normal already. For you, they were. A small worry remained he may begin to act differently but the only difference was he seemed to be embracing you deeper. 
After your delivered kiss, you took the stage like a woman reborn. The warmth of the light felt like the sun. Pointed toes as you moved along the stage, hips loose and smile coy. 
As you looked around the backlit crowd you didn’t search for a good mark. The times you did play a man’s attention for Alastor were different, it felt like art when you lured men into Alastor’s claws.
A shake of your feathered fans, a very controlled lowering of your head, you let a hip rock out into view. A little flash of inner thigh. Then, your favorite part. One hand gripped your fans as you them with the aide of practiced fingers. Free hand undoing your still remarkably heavy and glittering bra and handing it behind the curtain.
Surprise reveal, a naked magic trick done behind distracting whirling feathers. Arms open, fans high, you waited for the applause to die down. Deep breaths were not possible, adrenaline and the weight of your costume keeping you from hiding the heaving of your chest. 
The whistles were your favorite. You couldn’t imagine Alastor whistling but you were sure it would be flawless in its ability to capture your attention. 
“Anyone wanna smoke? I don’t want to go into the alley alone.” You asked the room, several girls glancing your way and shaking their heads no as you hurried back in from your set.
“Just take the fire escape to the roof. That’s where we’ve been smoking since Mr. Brady said it was dangerous at night.” Florence was normally a perfect smoking partner, never talking too much. The name Brady made your stomach flip though, you had forgotten about him for a second. You’d managed to avoid him until Tommy’s bloody trail went cold, but you knew he still stalked around the jazz and music district.
A dancer laughed, “Nighttime has always been dangerous for women.”
Someone you didn’t see added, “Fuck, daytimes not safe either.” 
You climbed the creaky and seemingly forgotten-about fire escape to the roof. The breeze hit your face before your feet even left the metal railing. 
It was… a roof. Grey painted floors and brick sides. Nothing special, but you could see the bowl full of discarded cigarettes near the front of the building. You looked over the short wall that edged the front, you were able to see the pigeon shit covered marquee. What an unattractive view, the lights flashing out from beneath actual shit.
There was a metaphor there, you were sure. 
Looking around, there were a few wicker chairs hidden in the shadow of the street’s lights, thankfully upside down to keep them clean from the birds.
If more people used roofs instead of alleys Alastor would be out of luck. Tommy was difficult enough with a staircase, the fire escape would have been the nail in that coffin. 
It had been a lovely night, absolutely jarring compared to the night before. You leaned back in the chair, you knew you weren’t the best at saying what you meant. Especially when the words you offered could be used to hurt you. Words of affection and love, when true, were daggers given handle-first to someone else. 
So you hoped Alastor could guess how much he meant to you. You shouldn’t need to say it, right? Actions speak louder than words. You bludgeoned a man to death for what you had thought was a lost cause. It had seemed Alastor was already dead when you first brought down the rock. 
Diamonds are rocks, you considered. The most expensive costume the theater had was peacock feathered with shining crystals. You wanted to say you felt like a peacock, spirit large and wide and colorful. But those were males. Of course they were. The animal kingdom had males compete for mates with pretty colors and lovely songs. Now ladies pranced around in painted faces and short dresses. You didn’t feel pale or small like the ‘fairer sex’ peacock.
You felt like the swan. Vicious and beautiful, not out shone by anyone.
Well there was someone you’d allow to shine brighter. Someone you’d happily let take the lead. You’d thought letting a man walk in front of you was a sign of subservience. It hadn’t ever occurred to you that there could be respect in trusting someone else to go ahead. That the act of going first could be for protection and not power.
“Hey!”
You hurried to the fire escape, “yeah?”
“There’s a man asking for you. Tall guy named Frank?”
Frank?
Oh, Frank.
You’d forgotten about him. He’d left months ago. He was a whale, rich and generous. You took a moment to consider sitting down with him, smiling and laughing at his jokes, letting his hand settle on your thigh. It had been weeks since you entertained scamming anyone, and now you couldn’t even stomach the idea of faking interest in another man. Frank wasn’t one to scam, he just liked having a pretty lady on his arm to make him feel young and wanted, and in exchange you got into private parties and were gifted jewelry and clothing.
“Tell him I’m busy and send him off.” You hollered down. You could buy your own clothes. 
“Did he leave?” Alastor asked you the next morning, you leaning against the glass phone booth in the early morning light.
Your finger wrapped around the phone cord, “No of course not! They never do. I snuck out the back.”
There was a hum, “Well my dear, you’ve offered me a wonderful transition into my next question.” Alastor was sitting at his kitchen table, nervously turning his coffee cup around in circles, “Would you like to come over tomorrow night? I can pick you up after your show.”
Like a glacier drifting away from shore, you very slowly crouched down in the booth. “To your home?” 
“No, to Alabama.” He waited a beat, “Yes of course my home. I can show you what happens after I drive away.” A cheeky smile evident through his voice.
You pressed the phone receiver into your chest, teeth chewing on your bottom lip. What happens when he drives away? So…where the bodies go. But most importantly, the biggest part of this—where he lives. So much can be gleaned about someone from their home. A bookshelf alone could make or break an attraction. You brought the receiver back to your mouth. “Lovely! Sure thing— Alastor. Yes.” you almost added on an awkward nickname like daddy-o or mister man, like an idiot, because your brain was misfiring like you’d seen him in the sunlight again.
Ah, you could see his bed. 
Where he slept.
Did he ever dream of you?
What if it was terribly dirty? Could you still love him if he was a slob? 
“I’m quite far from downtown, pack an overnight bag, okay?” He stopped fidgeting with the mug. When the call ended he sat at the table for some time, staring around the kitchen. The home was large by city standards, but it was old. His mother’s charm was evident through every part. A finger scratched at the wooden table, heavy and solid. Why was his heart racing? 
He walked to the screened back door, looking from the weathered patio steps to the greenhouse. 
No one had ever been to his home. Ever. A teensy part of him was panicking. Was this a mistake? Was he going to fuck up the budding relationship? Throw off the peace of his safest place?
Budding. Okay that was ridiculous even for him. The kind of intimacy gained through murder did not allow any union to be called budding. He’d shared pieces of himself no other living soul knew of. Your image of him was possibly even more complete than his own mother had held, even though he tried to always be the most sincere with her. Even people he did care for and consider close friends had never knew where he lived. Never heard what kept him up at night. Never learned his distaste for a random lay.
Opening the screen door with a signature creak, the sound many southerners could call comforting, he walked to the greenhouse.
The newest part of the property, the glass walled structure was built shortly after his mother’s death. Double doors: locked. Just beyond the glass was a forest of plants and potted trees. They had no need for a greenhouse, but Alastor had a need for them.
He set about preparing his home for another occupant, a task that brought him such a shock of joy and anxiety he began to wonder who he was. New sheets on the bed, extra pillows set against his wooden headboard. Large glass jar in the backyard full of water and tea bags.
It was also unexpected he was thinking so much of his mother. In a perfect world she’d be there to greet you. Though if she was alive, he wouldn’t have been in that alley that night. He made a mental note to not mention his mother, at least not as much as he was remembering her as he walked around the two story home tidying.
Would he have met you if he wasn’t a killer? 
A flicker of fear was quickly extinguished by romance. Definitely. You both ran in the same scenes. He’d seen you before that night, he just never approached you. He hadn’t anticipated how much more you were than the facade you put on. Nothing about your sweet face said, ‘I have a high tolerance for murder.’
Alastor spent the day at work physically present but mentally pacing his living room. He nodded along to discussions of who was to be live on set next, smile never faltering as he worried if he had breakfast foods. He rarely ate breakfast, did you? How had he not thought to ask. Sloppy.
The only outward sign he was feeling any stress was the tapping of his finger on his desk, which he hadn’t even noticed until the stage manager commented.  
“Alastoooor,” her voice was high, like it seemed many women’s voices were recently. Was it a trend? “Impatient? Hot date with a young lady this evening?”
While she meant well, she always pried, always asked questions he didn’t appreciate. 
Alastor shook his head, smile strained. A perceptive person would have picked up on it, but Brenda was not perceptive.
“Oh.” A noticeable disappointment, “That’s boring.”
Actually on second thought maybe she didn’t mean well.
“I’ve had too much coffee, is all, Brenda.” He pulled his hand into his lap. “Was there anything you needed?” 
“No,” she pouted, much less endearing than you.
If he murdered purely for fun Debra would be dead before sunset. Unfortunately her only crime was being remarkably annoying.
Alastor waited behind the theater, where it was less likely any staff would see him. It was still important to avoid connecting the two of you together, at least at your workplace yet. 
He was quick to grab your bag for you.
“Not the trunk, please.” You said, it took him a second to catch the joke. He set it on the back seat after opening your door for you. You’d only been in his car a few times but he never failed to be a perfect gentleman. 
Your palms were sweating, when his hand rested on your leg while he drove you resisted the urge to hold it. Instead you slipped yours under his. Alastor asked you about your day, about work, about if Frank came back. Typically as soon as you left the theater you were in a cone of silence until your phone call with him the next day. It was kind of nice, having someone to speak to. Before meeting him there were times you worried you’d forget how to talk naturally, how to sound like yourself.
The glowing eyes of deer popped up from the side of the road, startling you. Eerie. You held your breath, would they run, stay still, or sprint into the road.
“Is it true their antlers can break car windshields?” You asked not breaking eye contact with a doe as you drove past.
Alastor nodded, “If a buck hits your car the wrong way, not even the car will make it out of the accident.”
“Are there a lot of bucks around?”
“Will be soon, as fall— wait why am I telling you this,” he laughed, “Miss Autumn Hind already knows what makes the bucks run wild.”
You shouldn’t be smiling, it was a dumb rut joke, but it felt like a compliment. 
The car lights passed over the home as he turned into the dirt driveway. Powder blue. It wasn’t a color you associated with Alastor. He was caramel, honey, midnight blue, red. His sometimes sinister smile didn’t look quite right against powder blue. But, for a home, it was lovely.
“Is someone home?” You saw a light on in an upstairs room.
Alastor reached behind you for your bag, “No, I leave it on when I’m gone. Gives the impression that the house isn’t empty.”
A minor bit of acting, Alastor opening the door and offering to bring your bag upstairs before a tour like a good host. His anxious energy was barely contained by that grin of his. For your part you played the appropriately impressed guest.
But deep down you were very impressed. An actual house. Your mother struggled to keep apartments rented. Alastor had a home. With stairs. That went to more home, not a neighbor. What a lovely thing. What did he do with all this space?
He could probably hide quite a few bodies in there.
Alastor opened his bedroom door and motioned for you to enter.
You took in every detail as shrewdly as you could. Two circular nightstands, a wide dresser with a few framed photos and a radio. One large window facing the yard, you could see the car outside from where you were standing. “Wow a man’s bedroom. I tend to avoid these.”
“What a coincidence, so do I. Bedrooms in general, really.” He placed your bag on the dresser, offering to unpack it for you. Your smile screwed up, shaking your head no. You couldn’t imagine Alastor folding your panties and setting them into a drawer. 
Well.
“Yes please.” You took a seat on the end of his bed, watching him tenderly empty the bag before beginning to put things away like you’d come home from a trip. “A bed big enough for two people. You didn’t tell me you were a fancy man. Ooh la la.”
Alastor laughed, “Your bed was quite comfortable.” He set your dress onto a hook attached to the closet door, hands running down the fabric to straighten out the wrinkles, “But I have a feeling that had more to do with you than anything else.”
The floor was clean, the rug beneath the bed a simple but pristine white. What an odd color for a rug.  
You truly did avoid men’s homes. The power dynamic shifts too much.
“Are all men so clean?”
“Oh god no. Have you really never been to a man’s home?” Without a moment of hesitancy his long fingers flattened out your underthings and neatly folded them. You could call it erotic, knowing what else his fingers could do.
A hum, you swayed side to side, “Too much risk. I don’t know where the knife drawer is, which locks stick, what windows open all the way.” 
He set the empty bag into a reading chair in the corner, “That sounds stressful.”
You shrugged, “My mother taught me to always have an escape. From situations, from rooms, from people. Not terrible advice.”
That was true, he thought. If the few women he killed had considered that, he would be less prolific. Women tended to be easier in some regards.
Alastor finally let himself look at you sitting on his bed. Were you wearing the black garters today? He liked those. He appreciated the red dress you’d worn.
Taking off his jacket and vest, he hung them up while his eyes kept returning to you. Your legs were crossed, thighs soft and pressed together. He remembered feeling them against his ears. A little cough to clear his throat and mind.
“Are you hungry?”
You werent, but you weren’t ready for sleep either, so you asked for some bread and butter. Alastor sat beside you at the table, watching you look around. It didn’t look like a killer's home. 
“Ya know, I was going to rob you. I had been wanting to talk to you, before that guy caught me off guard when I was smoking.” You said it easily. 
He smiled, “Oh, why’d you change your mind?”
“Well, you slit a man’s throat in front of me.”
“Tsk tsk, you give up too easily, my dear.”
Salted butter, soft bread. Simple. Happy. “You were so handsome-,”
“We’re?”
A snort of a laugh, rolling your eyes dramatically, “and you looked well off. I was searching the room for the lights reflecting off of your glasses all night.”
Alastor grimaced, fighting the well of his ego, and leaned on his elbows, “Is it too morbid to say I’m glad that man tried to kill you? I like this timeline more than being robbed and never seeing you again.”
“That’s very selfish. I would have enjoyed chasing you down and finessing your wallet off you.” You set the glass lid back over the butter dish, content with the snack. “Some men come back actually and confront me at the theater.”
He howled. The idea was ridiculous, “Seriously? Why not just tell the cops.”
“Men don’t like telling other men they got taken for a ride by a dame.”
Alastor stood, “What would you have done if you had robbed me and I marched into the theater demanding my cash back.” It took a second to realize he was being serious in wanting you to play along. 
You popped the last piece of bread into your mouth and stood too, “You rake!” A fake smack to his chest, “I booted you to the curb! You had more hands than an octopus!” 
Alastor tried to stay in character but his smile kept cracking through his serious face. “And my wallet? None of my hands can find it.” You took a few steps back, feigning shock at the accusation.
“Sir! You were so drunk I’m not surprised you lost it.” When Alastor closed the space between you with two wide steps and pulled you into his chest you giggled, hitting softly at him, “You should be ashamed of yourself. Trying to take advantage,” his hands wandered down your hips, making your voice catch in your throat, “of a good woman like me.”
His mouth came to your ear, “Well, miss, I think you owe me the opportunity to try again.”
You went stiff against him, the sudden turn of his voice into seduction taking you by surprise, “If you were a real mark, I’d punch you in the face for saying that.”
“But for me?” Breath against your neck.
Your hands slid up his chest and to his collar, pulling him down and into a kiss. His smile spread across your lips. 
His mouth stayed against your cheek as he pulled you into a hug, “Ready for bed?”
“Are you sleepy, hun?” You pulled away, a sincerely worried face. Two nights now you’d interrupted his normal routine.
Alastor’s eyes seemed to sparkle behind his glasses, head shaking, “No, not at all.” You felt the heat rise up your face. Wanting to avoid assumptions, you tried to temper your expectations.
His hand pulled you toward the stairs, you dragging your feet, “Did you want to show me around?”
“In the daylight.” He led you up the stairs and to the right.
“Oh okay….”, your mind was reeling, mouth dry. No dead body in sight. No blood. You hadn’t pressed him or asked for anything. Maybe he just wanted a good cuddle, or some kisses. You often enjoyed necking near the car before he would go home. Right. Let him lead.
You followed him, letting him guide you hand in hand back to his bedroom.
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vivwritesfics · 2 days
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Hi viv! Wondering if you'd be up for writing a brothers best friend Carlos thing. Up to you whether its another driver's sister or not, but I'm thinking reader and her brother travel with Carlos in the break between Aus + Japan, and one of the last evenings before he has to go, things get either a little fluffy or spicy between reader + the smooth operator. I know its not a lot to go off but I love your creativity with writing 🥰
I'm so sorry if this isn't what you meant love, I saw the vision and I went for it.
warnings: smut, masturbation, oral (female and male receiving)
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Things had always been... spicy between herself and the smooth operator. But they'd never pushed it to far.
Her brother would have killed her if he knew. He could have freaked out, lost his shit at the both of them. Even if they hadn't done anything more than lay together, innocent kisses pressed against cheeks.
Never on the lips.
She'd been there in Australia, had watched him win. She'd gone out to celebrate with him afterwards. As much as she wanted him, she couldn't do anything about it, not with Lando there.
Lando, who always seemed to be there. She hated it, hated that he was always watching whenever she and Carlos seemed to be too close. (Too close. What a ridiculous phrase. She couldn't get close enough).
But then Lando went back to Monaco. He left her to fly back with Carlos, who expended his stay. She'd been staying with Lando in Australia and, when he went home, she moved into Carlos's hotel room with him.
Still, nothing happened between them. It was almost as though he couldn't bring himself to fuck her, not even when they were alone. He wanted to, fuck, he wanted to.
They'd taken things further, the kisses weren't just on the cheek. But, even when he was between her legs, his hands holding her thighs as he looked at her glistening pussy, he couldn't do it.
Whispered apologies as he pressed his lips to hers.
Carlos loved to watch her. He loved to watch as she squeezed her own breasts and moved down to her folds. Carlos loved to watch as she fucked herself on her fingers, as she moaned his name at the feeling of her own fingers.
They knew they had to tell him. He wasn't going to fuck her until her brother knew about them. He still kissed her, hands cradling her face as he pressed his lips against her own.
Carlos knew exactly when to tell Lando.
But they still had a few days in Australia before that. A few days that he had her to himself before he was to head straight to Japan. A few days to kiss her, a few days to have her lips wrapped around his cock, a few days to touch her in ways that had her screaming out for him.
They hardly left the bedroom. Even if Carlos wouldn't push his cock through her folds, she was happy to sit on his face, his hands gripping her thigh as he pushed his tongue through her folds. She cried out, hips moving against him. Even the feeling of his nose brushing against her clit was euphoric.
She leaned forward, humming as she kissed his tip and wrapped her lips around him. Carlos let out a groan of his own, the sound moving through her as she squeezed her eyes shut.
She was his, just as he was hers. Carlos knew it, she knew it, too. And he couldn't wait to have her.
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markiemelon · 2 days
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hiii, can you do something with jaemin? like a college friends to lovers?
breakfast
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genre. fluff, crack 🍞
pairings. jaemin x gn!reader
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falling asleep at your friend!jaemin’s place wasn’t your intention.. yet, there you were, knocked out on the couch. you eventually woke up, disoriented and sore, while the smell of burnt toast polluted the air. on the other side of the open room, jaemin stood behind the kitchen counter, preoccupied with scraping char off the bread slices. he perked his head up once he heard you rustling around. “oh. you’re up.”
“what time is it?” you yawned, reaching for your phone, only to find it cold and dead.
“it’s like 10 or something—” his tone was casual, and it threw you off.
“jaemin!” you jumped to your feet. “i had a class at 9!” you continued, “i told you to wake me up if i ever fell asleep here again!” you ran to the bathroom, looking for the toothbrush jaemin got you last time.
his expression became one of shame, like a child being scolded by his mother. “i know, but you just looked so peaceful…”
this isn’t the first time this has happened. more often than not, jaemin invites you to hang out after class.. so you usually find yourself leaving with him to walk to his apartment… you just can’t get enough of him.
once you get there, you hope for a productive afternoon, maybe crank out some assignments. but instead, you end up talking to him all night. you’ll eventually glance at the ungodly hour on the clock, and think, "just 5 more minutes. i'll get going in 5 minutes." 5 minutes turns into 5 hours... and next thing you know, the sun is up, you've slept through all your alarms, and you're grabbing your things to rush out.
“i need to go home-” you pat your hands around the couch, looking for your purse, tossing around the blankets and pillows jaemin put on you while you were asleep.
“wait.” he interjected. “when’s your next class?”
“at 1… but i still have to go home and get dressed...” you sighed, slumping onto the stool at the kitchen island.
“you still have plenty of time to eat breakfast...” jaemin said, nudging over a plate of toast that was grilled to the point of no return.
“jaemin…” you laughed. “im not eating that.” you eyed the dish, and a chill went down your spine. “i’ll just have some cereal.” you helped yourself to his cabinets in a search for a more edible alternative.
sitting across from jaemin at the table, you crunched on your cereal while he picked at his burnt toast… his pride wouldn’t let him throw it out. “so do you wanna come over again later?” he waited for you to chew your food before you replied.
“jaemin, be for real.” you set down your spoon. “i can’t keep coming over on weekdays. i lose track of time and fall asleep.. i can’t keep doing that.”
“why not?” he said, mouth full. “why can’t you fall asleep here?”
“i don’t have my stuff here! no skincare, no clothes…” you counted a finger for each point you listed. “and by the time i wake up, im late, and i still have to go home and get ready...”
“well then.. why not just bring stuff to stay the night.” he cleared his throat. “pack your clothes and skincare and whatever… plus, you already have a toothbrush here.”
“do you want me to stay or something?” you took a sip of juice, eyes peeking over the cup.
“i just like having you around...” he picked at the toast some more, but had yet to actually taste it.
you thought for a moment. “yeah sure.” you shrugged, ignoring the way he just made your heart flutter.
“wait really?” he looked up from his plate.
“i mean… i guess it’s not a problem as long as i bring stuff to stay.” you said, getting up from your seat to go wash your bowl in the sink. jaemin followed right behind you and draped his arms over your shoulders, pulling your back into his chest. “then can you bring stuff to stay longer than 1 night?”
jaemin has always been a pretty affectionate friend, so you didn’t think much of the hug… “maybe i could stay until the weekend..”
“just until the weekend?” he squeezed you a little tighter.
but was he always this clingy?
“na jaemin, when did you get so clingy?”
“well these days, i…” he stopped himself.
“these days, you...?” you hummed, tugging on his arms that were still embracing you, urging for him to finish his sentence. you began swaying side to side ever so slightly. “let’s just stay like this for a minute.” he cooed, catching on to your rhythm, rocking in the silence. he really gave the best hugs. after a moment, he disrupted the stillness of the room. “move in with me.”
hearing him say that so bluntly made your heart drop. flustered, you turned around to face him, his arms now resting on your back. “all of a sudden?” you laughed.
“mm.” he nodded his head to agree, looking at you so endearingly. he gradually inched his face closer to yours, and you didn’t mind.
“jaemin.”
“yeah?” he answered, just inches away.
“are you trying to kiss me right now?” you teased, as your gaze wandered from his eyes to his lips.
“are you gonna let me?” he teased back. you couldn’t hold back your smile, and he basically took that as confirmation.
he didn’t have to lean in much more before his lips were touching yours. your eyes fluttered as his hands gently met your cheeks, even tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“what are we doing?” you whispered in between breaths.
“just enjoy it.” he reassured you.
and for some reason, his words really put you at ease. in that moment, you couldn’t help but enjoy it. you reconnected your lips, and let yourself fall more in love with your best friend than you already were.
his smile forced him out of the kiss. “so does this mean we can have breakfast together every morning?”
you scoffed at his remark. “maybe if you learn how to cook first…”
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@lovesuhng thanks so much for the request!!!! such a cute idea. hope you like it!!!
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improbable-outset · 19 hours
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📄 𝐈𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡
Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.8k (help???)
𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Married couple, Wife!Reader, burnout, overstimulation (not sexually), arguing, angst followed by fluff, kiss and make up, virginal fingering, kisses galore, EVENTUAL SMUT, pregnancy sex, bit of body worship (he loves your pregnant body) cowgirl position, sensory deprivation sex.
𝐀/𝐍: I poured my heart into this one, not that I don’t always do but this one in particular just hits closer to home. And yes it’s a vent fic so very very self indulgent.
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re tired. He’s tired. There’s only so much stress you can withstand before you reach your tipping point. Luckily your husband is here to keep you grounded
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It started off with a throbbing in your head and as irritating as it was, it wasn’t bad enough to disrupt your daily routine. But as the week rolled on, the throbbing sensation began to get worse.
You were becoming easily irritated and it didn’t help with the workload you had to tackle. Even Miguel noticed a change in your mood but whenever he would bring it up and ask you about it, you would deflect his questions and tell him you were fine.
You couldn’t bear the thought of burdening him when your struggles especially when he had his own responsibilities and duties to fulfill.
You knew that if you admitted the stress you were feeling, he would insist that you rest, which was the last thing you needed, especially with how much you needed to get done this week.
You tried your best to ignore the nerves that were stretching to their limits now, but it was proven more difficult with each passing day. You would feel a sense of dread as soon as you got out of bed, mentally bracing yourself for the overwhelming day you had to face.
Your mind was preoccupied now as you reached over the high shelf for the spice jar. Your stomach was jutted out with the new life brewing inside of you, making it harder for you to manoeuvre around.
Just as your fingers brushed against the jar you were after, a sudden voice tore through the room, snapping you out of your trance.
“¿Qué dije sobre pedirme ayuda?” Miguel called out before he went over and stood behind you to take the spice jar you were reaching for. “What if something fell on you?”
“I don’t need help,” you insisted, reaching over to reclaim the jar back from him.
Miguel arched his brow in mild amusement. “You’re struggling to reach the spices, and you’re saying you don’t need help?”
“I’m fine, I’m trying to make dinner,”
“I know I know. But I’m here now so you don’t need to do that tonight,” You knew he was trying to emphasise the fact that he willingly took the time out of his day just to be with you.
Normally, you would be beyond appreciative towards his gesture. With his duties back at Spider Society HQ breathing down his neck all the time, it was a rarity that you both had an evening together like this.
He would either be saving the city or in another dimension, and although you would still be able to contact him through your watch, it would never be the same as having his physical warmth with you.
But right now, you were driven by your stress and too wrapped up in getting the job done to be in the right state of mind and properly enjoy the night.
“Why not? I can still cook you know,” you resorted, pouring some of the spice in the pot before stirring the content.
“And yet, I don’t want you to.” He said firmly before he turned you around to face him and rested his hands on your growing belly, silently conveying his concern for your wellbeing. “Now go sit,”
As the food continued to bubble on the stove, you retreated from his touch defensively. His face twisted in confusion as you questioned, “Why the hell are you doing that?”
His face fell further at your change in tone, “Doing what? Touching you?”
“No, treating me like I’m a basket case,”
“I’m treating you like the mother of my child. You’re pregnant and over exerting yourself,” he tried to reason with you. You attempted to conceal how much your senses were firing right now.
You couldn’t tell if it was the aroma of the cooking that was making you slightly nauseous but you were starting to feel agitated.
“I’m pregnant, not paralysed Miguel. I’m fully capable of doing this myself,” you could see the frown forming on his face and he definitely picked up the hostility of your tone.
“I never said you weren’t capable but I don't want you doing too much,” he argued back, his voice growing more insistent, mirroring your frustration. He wasn’t going to let your stubbornness sway him, even if it did irk you.
You could feel the heat of your vexation rising in your guts. You hated being interrupted in the kitchen especially when you were making dinner. Even if you were tired, you were still going to stand your ground and continue until you were done.
Throughout the last few days there had been a build up of tension that you have been bottling up and you refused to talk about it with him, even if he did ask you about it.
You had no safe outlet for your emotions and now you can feel it taking a toll on your daily tasks. It was almost palpable and you couldn’t control the sudden outbursts you were throwing at your husband right now.
A small part of you knew that he didn’t deserve this harsh treatment you were giving him. But that meek feeling of self awareness was quickly overshadowed by your clouded mind that was skewing your thoughts, unbeknownst to you.
Out of bitterness, you twisted the knob to switch off the stove before you turned to look at him. His annoyed expression didn’t falter, rather you could see his brows furrowed more. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Turn off the stove?”
“You wanted me to stop, didn’t you?” Now it was your turn to be confused, though you could still feel the lingering coldness.
He was so adamant on you not cooking so why is he still not satisfied when you turn the stove off? What was his problem?
“What are you trying to prove here?” He asked.
The question hit a nerve, the fact that he was insinuating that you had an ulterior motive just by a simple action. It was almost insulting. Was he trying to sound condescending just to throw you off?
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb,”
Ouch.
“Oh please, enlighten me,” There was an obvious edge to your tone and he glowered at that. You could tell he was really starting to get annoyed when you saw his fangs started to emerge from his canines, something that was only stimulated in the height of rage or arousal.
“Cut the sarcasm. You’re purposely getting on my nerves and it’s working. Now, are you going to answer my question?” His voice demanded clarity from you and you weren’t sure if anything you said would satisfy him.
“Like I said, I’m doing as I’m told. Why are you getting mad?” You snapped back. You didn’t want to admit that what he said made the shadow of sympathy you felt early crawl back again.
He wasn’t aware of the emotions you were keeping inside of you and probably thought you were purposely reacting this way just to pull his leg.
“You know damn well that’s not how I meant with my words,” he was practically growling now and you could see the crimson in his eyes flicker like a flame.
With a weary sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose— a habit that you both seemed to share. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this argument now, it was clear that it wasn’t going anywhere.
The throbbing in your head was back, but now it felt like a pounding sensation reverberating in your skull. Without another word, you turned to leave the kitchen leaving the half-cooked food behind on the stove.
“Where are you going?” You heard him call out from the kitchen before he took a few steps in your direction.
“To the room, I lost my appetite,” You headed your way up to the bedroom. You didn’t hear his footsteps following after you as you closed the door behind you.
You climbed into bed with the blanket over you and made yourself as small as your pregnant belly will allow you. There was a sense of bleakness that was shrouding you now— the underlying stress you’ve been feeling was still there but it wasn’t as overbearing.
With the silence in the room, you’d think you’d be able to calm yourself down a little from the heated interaction you just had, but instead your mind was still racing. You couldn’t stop yourself from straining your muscles no matter how hard you tried.
You tightened your grip on the blanket and buried yourself deeper into the sheets, trying to block out as much of the lighting from the room as you could. You didn’t notice Miguel entering the room until you felt an additional weight on the bed beside you.
For a long moment, all you could hear was his steady breathing and the occasional bed creaking before he spoke out of nowhere. “Well, at least the silent treatment is an improvement from earlier,”
The sarcasm was uncalled for especially now. It made your blood boil. To make matters worse, he kept going. His voice, that you always loved hearing, now sounded like an irritating ring in your ear. “Are you just going to hide under the blanket until I forget about everything?”
“Stop talking….please stop talking!” you pleaded, your voice was quivering and on the verge of tears. You felt like you were at a tipping point, standing on the edge of something already breaking.
The sensory overload from the argument along with the tension was still present, and you desperately needed silence.
There was a long pause and your pulse was thudding in your ears. Even if you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he regretted his words just from his silence.
“Do you want me to turn off the lights and go?” His tone quickly switched, a soft caress. You poked your head out of the blanket to look at him.
You felt guilt tugging on your heart after everything that had just happened moments ago. Your husband didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all of this. The least you could do now was end the night on a civil note.
“Turn off the lights but don’t leave me,” you requested. Without wasting a beat, Miguel got out of bed to turn off the lights before he climbed back in to embrace you.
The room was dark but you could still see his silhouette against the Nueva York city skyline from the bedroom window.
“Could you hold me? Please?”
“Of course,” his voice was a soothing balm against your firing nerves. Swallowing thickly, you pushed the blanket away and moved onto his waiting arms as he leaned against the headboard.
You settled onto his lap and you felt his broad arms wrap around you. Your eyes started to leak with your heated tears and before you could stop yourself, you broke into a sob.
“Just breathe, I’m not going anywhere. Take your time,” He muttered against the crown of your head. You rested your head against his chest with his heart thumping softly near your ear.
The throbbing was starting to ease and the relief that followed after came in waves. All that weeks worth of pent up tensity was released in one night through your tears.
With the absence of the lighting along with the silence, it was easier to reach the mellow state that your body was screaming for.
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” you rambled, a sense of remorse crashing down on you like a storm.
“It’s okay…I feel like we should talk about some things though,”
“Like what?”
“How we should handle potential fights in our marriage. I don’t really like the way we argue and get at each other's throats so quickly,”
You let his words sink in. The mere thought made your heart ache. The situation would’ve never escalated this far if you hadn't talked to Miguel earlier. Instead you let things boil over.
“It’s my fault…”
“Why do you say that?”
“I kept brushing you off when you wanted to be there for me,” you admitted, a bitter irony taunting your confession.
In retrospect, you’ve witnessed Miguel struggle to open up about his feelings while you were still in the early stages of the relationship.
Even during your marriage, it was a huge step for him to finally be completely emotionally open with you. You’ve noticed how much your relationship has flourished since then and how closer you felt with him.
But now the tables have turned tonight, with you leaving Miguel oblivious to the series of weary emotions you were experiencing. You knew it wasn’t healthy for you or the baby growing inside you to carry such stress alone.
“I noticed the way you were struggling the past few days. I just wish you were more vulnerable with me and not feel like you have to put on a brave face just for my sake,” Miguel explained.
“I dont…I don’t really know where to start,” You tried to rack your brain and coordinate how to express the tension you’ve been feeling the past few days. It was difficult to pinpoint on one thing and string the words together.
“Everything just feels so overwhelming and too much for my brain to handle…even the clock ticking makes me want to rip my head off,” you clutched onto his shirt, a feeble attempt to hold onto your crumbling composure. “I don’t know if it’s the hormones from the pregnancy or a burn out. Or maybe both,”
“I’m leaning towards burn out since you’re showing all the signs, you’re easily irritated and I can see you’re overstimulated from the smell of the cooking to the lighting in the room,”
“Maybe you’re right,” you agreed softly. A lot of issues could be contained just by not saying anything. You seemed to be acutely aware of your own hesitation when it came to voicing your emotions.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to share your feelings with Miguel; rather you didn’t know how to and feared the unknown reaction that may follow. You weren’t used to being this vulnerable.
You knew that you would rather hear Miguel share his emotions, even crying on your shoulder, than have him be silent. It was only fair that you took your own advice. Here you were advocating for openness, while grasping onto your own reticence.
“Could you do me a favour?” You asked in the midst of the silence that was shared between you.
“Of course,”
“I understand that you don’t want me to lift a finger especially while I’m pregnant but could you not try to intervene when I’m in the kitchen. I don’t like sitting around and I want to keep myself busy,”
You could sense the hesitance from him as he drew in a shaky breath before he spoke. “…yeah I can do that”
“You already have a lot on your plate,”
“I do, but promise me that you won’t leave me in the dark when you need something from me,”
“I promise.” You lifted your head from his chest to look at him. “I’m glad we’re on the same page Spiderman,”
Even if your view of him was obscured by the darkness in the room, you could still see his lips twitching up from your comment. “Mhmm that’s not an excuse for me to be a neglectful husband to you. So don’t act coy with me,”
“Oh I know. I’m just finding an excuse to be a smartass,” you teased him further by kissing along his jaw. Feeling his body tense from your touch, even if it was subtle, was a huge ego booster.
“Was that supposed to throw me off or something,” you could hear the groan he was trying to hide at the back of his throat as he spoke and it made your stomach flutter.
“Maybe,”
“Uh huh, you definitely did that on purpose,”
“I’ll do it again,”
“And I’ll kiss you right back,”
“Alright bet,” Before he could retaliate, you were bold enough to lap over his lower lip with your tongue. A low moan could be heard from him in response.
It was rare for you to initiate such a confident move like this but there was an undeniable spark and you didn’t want it to go just yet. The bleak mood from earlier was now forgotten and was replaced with arousal.
You pulled away to reposition yourself so you were fully facing him on your lap, your legs on either side of his hips.
His grip on your waist tightened in response drawing you closer to him until your bump was pressing against his torso. “You have no idea what you got yourself into,”
Finally with a longing that built in your stomach, you leaned in until your lips met in a fervent kiss. The weight of your doubts and anxiety was now completely diminished as you felt a magnitude that pulled you into bliss.
You felt him run his tongue over your lips and you parted them slightly in response. He took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, completely taking over your mouth with a low groan.
As you pulled away, breathless with desire, you couldn’t help but tease, “Too much or not enough?”
To which he responded, “Not even close to enough,”
“Good, then I’ll keep going. You’re not getting the upper hand here,” you were beaming at your own words.
But your confidence was cut short when you noticed his hand reach over and slipped under your pants and past your panties until his fingers were grazing against your folds.
Feeling the air that brushed against your slickness was enough to humble you. You didn’t realise how soaked you were until you felt yourself suction around him greedily as he pushed both his middle and ring finger in.
“You’re saying that now, just wait until I’m inside you,” he was taunting you, completely throwing you off but you would happily let his fingers do all the talking now, even if it was at the expense of your pride.
Your hand immediately reached to grapple onto his biceps to keep yourself steady. If it wasn’t for your restricted mobility from your bump, you would’ve started rolling your hips to ride on his fingers.
But instead you allowed him to do all the work. Your head rested on his shoulder and you moaned into his neck as the pad of his thumb rubbed against the sensitive nerves of your clitoris.
He dragged his fingers out, now wet from your arousal, and slowly ran it over your folds. The first thing you felt after he pulled his hands away from your cunt was his hard on, pressed against you.
You would’ve started grinding against him with how needy you were if he didn’t hold you still. He held you by the side and moved you off his lap so he could remove his pants and boxers before lying down flat on his back.
You didn’t need the light to know that his dick was standing on its end with beads of precum leaking from the tip. You removed your own clothes and felt the cold air slap on your cunt.
“Ven acá amor,” his voice was inviting and you’d be a fool to deny him.
You let him guide you, given his enhanced vision that allowed him to see in the dark. Both hands were on your rear, spreading your cheeks before you felt the tip nudge into your folds.
“Oh God-” you whimpered. You felt yourself stretch to accommodate him, sinking yourself lower until you were balls deep. Your hips flushed against him with your stiff clit pressed against the top of his groin,
“No divinity. Just your husband’s dick inside you,” A wide grin spread across his face. His hands were all over your growing belly, feeling the warmth of you and the occasional kick of the baby.
“Que bonita,” he said in awe. A sense of pride washed over him knowing he was the one who knocked you up, the woman he loved and the mother of his future child. “Muy linda tu barriga,”
You seemed to be more sensitive to his praises especially given the fact that you were getting cock drunk now.
Ever since your bump was starting to show, Miguel never missed the opportunity to praise you. He wanted you to feel proud of your physique and not be hesitant on your changing body.
His hands reached over to hold your waist before he piston his hips up and took control of the pace. You could tell he was holding back from going rough, handling you with extra care.
The feel of him thrusting inside was enough to knock the senses out of you until you were high from bliss. He was making sure you felt every sensation in full capacity, feeling every crevice of his dick being caressed by your silky walls.
His hands reached over to the back of your neck to pull you in until your lips met again. The kiss was disoriented and breathy as he was still trying to maintain his pace.
Each brush of his lips on yours was feeding into your ecstasy. You pulled away and nestled into his neck, taking in his dick so well.
“That’s it, let me make you feel good. Let me make you forget about your problems, amor,” he whispered lovingly in your ear.
“Miguel…” you couldn’t form a proper response, your moans of pleasure drowning out your voice.
He was so good at making feel this way, reaching optimal pleasure from his touches. With the absence of the lighting you allowed yourself to just physically feel everything he was giving you.
His broad head nudging into your cervix.
His soft whispers fanning against your ear.
His hands all over and worshiping you everywhere he could reach.
“God, you’re so easy to please,” You could tell he was reaching his peak. With one final buck from his hip, he dragged his dick to reach the depth of your cunt before he reached his climax.
You felt the contraction of your walls around him as he drenched his balls inside of you. His grip on you loosened and his dick slipped free from your grasp before deflating onto his thighs.
You whined from the sudden withdrawal and the muscles of your walls relaxed. There were still remnants of his cum that was sticking between your thighs but you would deal with that later.
Miguel kissed the top of your forehead before letting out a deep sigh. You both lay together in each other’s embraces, basking in the afterglow with your breaths merging together.
Amidst the tranquil intimacy, your stomach let out an unexpected growl, reminding you that you skipped dinner.
Miguel chuckled softly, “So, have you still lost your appetite?”
You huffed. “Well it’s suddenly back now that I’ve worked it up in other ways,”
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Hot take: cooking together in the kitchen is NOT romantic 🙅🏻‍♀️🗣️ move out of my fucking way and let me work
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @monarchberrysblog @strawberryjuice9 @lazyjellyfish300 @quack-ie @ghost-lantern
@ginanet @superstar-t20 @roreadsfanfics @francesca-the-1st @vanillapinkrose
@dfffghio @migueloharastruelove @nerdyninjaprincess @unhinged-reader-36 @maiyart
@nediks @ahcrie4help @cl3stevu @kodo1221 @boobsbeesbongos
@emelie-s-h @pretty-pink-princesss @safixiovi
Just a heads up, this may be the last Miguel fic I’ll be posting for a while. Writing for him doesn’t feel the same anymore and my hyperfixation for him is slowly wearing thin. Im not sure yet though, but savour this as much as you can I guess. That and I feel like my writing isn’t good enough for the fandom anymore :p
Also reminder that I will be interacting and reblogging fic from my second account @lmaoyouwhore
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ventismacchiato · 2 days
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stuck with you — windblume !
˗ˏˋ profiles ´ˎ˗
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yn — main vocalist which makes you the most popular member. you go viral every other week for getting into petty arguments on twitter and weverse with scaramouche. should definitely learn media training because you tend to rant about him too much during lives. ‘compilations of scaramouche and yn bickering’ are super common. you’re also the only member to release a solo album which gets you guys a lot of new fans. became an idol after being a trainee for way too many years, which is why you’re salty about scara debuting so quickly when he became an idol trainee after you. [🍰]
xiao — main dancer. choreographs a lot of the dances if not all. very introverted in public but talkative in behind the scenes vlogs with his group. xiao stans have it hard because this man hardly posts anything. fans call him the dad of the group because he’s always sneaking food onto everyone’s plates and keeping them hydrated during practice. when you guys first debuted everyone thought he was mean and cold when really he’s just a quiet sweetheart. has a tattoo sleeve that the fans haven’t seen the entirety of yet, jungkook vibes in that sense. most expensive photocards after you, the one of him in cat ears and winking goes for hundreds. [🐈‍⬛]
lumine — leader of the group and one of the only responsible ones. strict about keeping everyone on schedule and trying to appear presentable at music and award shows. tries to drag you all to the gym at five in the morning but to no avail. she vlogs her gym routine and whatever member she dragged that morning is usually seen in the back sitting on a yoga ball the entire time, talking as she runs miles on the treadmill. always setting trends for workout routines and makeup looks. once it touches her face it sells out. her twin is also an idol so they both do a lot of tiktoks and videos together. it siblings. [☀️]
fischl — one of the lyricists for the group. so chronically online. she’s always active at odd hours of the night and interacting with her fans. posts the most too, so fischl biases are always full with content. wears an eyepatch as part of her idol persona, and still manages to perform with it on. will do book club livestreams where she’ll talk about her current favorite book with her fans for two hours or more. lumine has to shut the live off everytime because she will just keep yapping. [🦉]
venti — writes most of the group's songs and runs production. most unserious member and should really attend a public image class because he does not know how to be a celebrity. fans are constantly finding vapes in the back of his photos and videos of him drunk at award shows. went viral once for showing up to a music show high off his mind but still managing to perform. will dye the ends of his hair different colors every comeback from his fan’s requests. loves to go live and sing covers for whatever people ask for. he does qnas and takes the tmis too seriously. [🌱]
yoimiya — visual and vocalist, will bring out her guitar during concerts a lot. the only member who will go to the gym with lumine. became an idol because she used to busk in her hometown and got picked up by your manager while she was on vacation. would be the type of idol to adore fancalls and do decorating photocards on livestreams. gets invited to a lot of variety shows and was probably a judge for a survival show at one point. [🧨]
windblume —one of the idol groups underneath sakura entertainment,  a six member mix gendered idol group known for their whimsical and indie comebacks every year. think of txt’s brand when it comes to your guys’ style of music. have been a group for about three years. members range from 21-22. their debut album Temptation got them to their popularity today.
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stuck with you !
masterlist — next
for my nonkpop fans the emojis are their assigned ones for when people post their livestream quotes, will make more sense later 😓 and weverse is basically twitter but just for idols to interact with fans
tried not to describe yn too much because i want it to be inclusive, any photos showing yn are just to depict the pose! not gender, race, or body type 🙏
spent way too long making custom instagram templates and for what help so pls look at them xx it’s so u can visualize what these 2d mfs wud look like in this au
pls lmk in the masterlist comments if i can use ur username and make you a fan in the au!
synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!
notes — it’s my exam week so all i have to give you is profiles for now </3
taglist open for a while longer, please comment on the masterlist to be added!
taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @sheraeera @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @kitsuvil @iheartpieck @crystalcrys @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @crucnhice @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @scarasmood @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @lilachasawesomehair @xxrexx
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hxney-lemcn · 24 hours
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Prince and the Frog — Housewardens x gn! reader
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summary: you find yourself cursed and you go to your prince to lift it.
tw: none that I can think of.
a/n: I saw something about the princess and the frog and got inspo. This is so fun, goofy, and lovely, I hope y'all enjoy <3
wc: 1.9k (~300 each character)
Master List
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You weren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve this, but even you felt it wasn’t enough. I mean a frog? Really? And the cure was a true love's kiss? Seriously? Can it get any more cliche? You might as well search for a princess and turn her into a frog as well and then set off into a journey of personal growth…you suppose a prince will have to do. You went to the first person you thought could help, time to see if they really would still love you if you were a worm, err…frog.
Riddle Rosehearts
Okay, so maybe Riddle wasn’t technically a prince, but a queen is a step above that, no? You were a little scared of his reaction, but you couldn’t stay a frog forever. Not to mention that someone else had cursed you, it’s not like you turned yourself into a frog. So when you managed to find him he freaked out, mouth agape as you explained your situation. Thank the sevens you could still talk. Riddle’s face soured, lips twisted into a scowl. At first you thought he was going to find a way to collar you in your current slippery state, but he ended up ranting about the person who cursed you, asking for any details that you could provide. The thought of kissing you to break the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind, instead skipping straight to punishing the fool who’d curse the Queen’s rose and making them reverse it. It was then that you learned just how quickly Riddle could sniff someone out if he wanted to, because the effects had been reversed by the end of the same day. (If that doesn’t show you how much he loves you then I don’t know what can).
Leona Kingscholar
…are you sure about this? I mean…yeah he’s a prince and all but he might just toss you mistaking you for a random frog who dared to encroach on his space. The type to argue he wouldn’t have to love you if you were a worm cause how ridiculous is that? Well…not so ridiculous now, huh? Thankfully, you had found Ruggie first, explaining your situation and asking for him to bring you to Leona. Not so thankfully, Ruggie found the entire thing hilarious and had to take a moment to calm himself down. He kept snickering to himself the entire way to Leona, making you want to die, or just stay a frog and live a happy life in a nice little pond and start a little froggy family. When Ruggie managed to tell Leona what was going on in between laughter Leona just stared at you like you were the stupidest motherfucker. Hey! It wasn’t like you were asking to be cursed! Has an internal conflict on what to do. On one hand he wants to prove he’s your true love, and kissing you seems to be the quickest way to get this over with…on the other you are a literal frog. Shooing Ruggie away, Leona bemoaningly gave you the quickest peck ever, making a face of disgust as he pulled away. The transformation back took a few seconds, but the look of disgust quickly turned to a smug smirk, feeling proud that you were truly his. 
Azul Ashengrotto
Okay, so again, not an actual prince…but he excelled at potions, so it only made sense…except he’ll probably make you sign your life away. So maybe not a good choice once again. I pray for you because one if not both of the Leech twins are gonna find you first and they’re gonna have a field day. ‘My, you’d look perfect in one of my terrariums’ Jade would note. Floyd would probably accidentally kill you because this entire situation is oh so hilarious and he forgot he’s supposed to be holding you gently. After the two have their fun (Jade plays with you and his terrarium like you're a doll in a dollhouse), they finally bring you to Azul, laughing their asses off in their own ways. Azul stares at you blankly as the two eel brothers leave, trying his hardest to not laugh. His face is red from concealing his humor, looking to the side to collect himself. He’ll offer you the cure, but for a price. Kiss you? He has a reputation to upkeep you know. He can’t be seen kissing frogs, imagine what that’ll do to his image! No, no, just sign the contract, and to sweeten the deal he’ll have the twins deal with the pest who thought it was a good idea to curse his angelfish. If you really persist, he’ll give in eventually. To be fair, he is also curious to see if you're his true love, but on the other hand he’s terrified if you're not. He doesn’t want to lose you. And to both your delight, you transform back after he gives you a small kiss on your little froggy head…he’s also running laps in his mind at how happy he is.
Kalim Al-Asim
He’s a prince and won’t think twice! He loves you truly, so it has to work! Too bad Jamil stumbled upon you first. Adamantly tries to hide you from Kalim and he feels his headache growing ten times worse. Why did you stupidly get yourself cursed? He asks like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know why the guy cursed you either! Jamil keeps you tucked in his hoodie until he can find time to bring you to Professor Crewel. You tried to fight him at first as you’d rather stay a frog than get detention for something you had no control over, but Jamil knew how to keep a tight leash on the unruly…it was his job after all. Unfortunately for him, Kalim walked into the kitchens right as you hopped out of his pocket. At first he was confused, and then even more confused, and then ecstatic. You hopped over to him, asking for him to protect you from Jamil (who was giving you a major side eye). Then you explained your predicament, and Jamil butted in about bringing you to Crewel. Innocently, Kalim offered to kiss you. No need to bother Crewel if the cure was so simple! Jamil couldn’t stop him in time, as Kalim kissed you the second he finished the sentence. Even Jamil couldn’t hide his disgust for a second at the action. Thankfully, Kalim was your true love as you had transformed back, and he hugged you gleefully. Unfortunately for Kalim, you refused any of his kisses until he rinsed his mouth (lmao).
Vil Schoenheit
Another queen. Best person to go to. He can whip up any cure just as fast as he can whip up any potion/poison. Rook, saw the whole encounter with the other student, and brought you to Vil without a second thought. He already knew everything about the idiot who cursed you so no need to stick around. Vil’s gaze turned into a disapproving stare as he looked at you. Even though Rook tried to stick up for you, dramatizing the whole event as stating how brave you were to face such a curse head on, Vil only shook his head. He motioned for Rook to follow him, not wanting to pick you up. He loves you, really he does, he just can’t afford to get his clothes dirty or stained. He picks the ingredients effortlessly, starting to brew the cure without a second thought. Both you and Rook seemed to want to get on his nerves as you both prattle on about true love and how he should kiss you. He didn’t expect you to be a cheesy sap (he’s lying), besides, don’t you know how many curses list true love’s kiss as the cure? The meaning is pointless. Besides, he doesn’t need some curse to prove his love for you, hasn’t he shown you how much you mean to him already? Or was he lacking, because he didn’t think you’d doubt him. Either way, you’re drinking the cure, he couldn’t risk that your slimy frog skin might make him break out. But don’t worry, if you really have room to doubt his love, he’ll make sure you can’t within the week.
Idia Shroud
Hahaha. Again, are you sure? He’s always holed up in his room, the only chance you're brought to him is if Ortho finds you (or vice versa). At first Ortho found you adorable, cooing at you as he floated to Idia’s room. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to show both you and Idia just how much you care for the other. How could either of you doubt the other if it's sealed with a true love's kiss? It was a brilliant opportunity! (Orthos a little too into this). He barely let his brother welcome them in before barging in and shoving a frog (you) into Idia’s face. At first Idia screeched, falling out of his gamer chair and scrambling away from the amphibian. Was Ortho pranking him? That’s totally uncool, he wasn’t some normie. But then Ortho happily blabbed about you and the curse and then it clicked…YOU WERE A FROG? Now he’s rolling on the floor laughing at you. You’d smack him if you WEREN’T A FROG. After he’s done laughing it up, he then freezes. Ortho wants him to kiss you? B-but that's gross! Who knows what diseases he’ll get if he kisses you. k. Wait, don't go to someone else! Fine, he’ll do it, but he won’t like it. Inside, he’s absolutely terrified. His mind is running a mile a minute. He doesn’t think you’ll actually turn back, someone like him doesn’t deserve true love…so imagine the face he makes when you do. Face a bright red, his hair a bright pink. Oh no, he feels faint. Give him a peck on the lips to finish him off.
Malleus Draconia
Uh oh. Queue the thunder and lightning. Whoever cursed you is the stupidest motherfucker. Malleus is the one to stumble upon you this time, to the disdain of his family. Lilia on one hand wanted to laugh about the situation, on the other, he knew he’d have to protect the stupid human from being smite for cursing Malleus’ love. Silver and Sebek are sweating as Malleus holds you gently in his hands. If he thought you were gentle as a human, he’s being ten times more careful with you in your froggy state. On the outside, he’s silent and brooding, on the inside he’s lamenting on finding you an enclosure where you can be happiest. What type of tank, soil, plants, water…someone please tell him this is reversible. Lilia chimes in before the rain outside can get worse, mentioning true love's kiss is able to reverse the effects. Malleus’ green slitted eyes never move from your tiny form, he finds you absolutely breathtaking even as a frog (this man is down so bad), but he’s nothing but relieved when he hears the news. Human lifespans are already small as is, he would’ve been completely gut wrenching if that time was cut even shorter. Another one who doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. This man would love you if you were a worm. He strokes your moist skin gently as he leaves a small kiss to your adorable head. His entire being, soul, mind and body all belong to you, and if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. His eyes shine brightly as you transform back, holding you gently as he promises to protect you from any miscreant that dares even look at you wrong…yeah so the guy who cursed you is still fucked and now you have a protective dragon at your heel 24/7.
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vbecker10 · 2 days
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Coffee Coffee Coffee
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: Your over protective boyfriend, Loki, finds out you haven't eaten anything today and he's not happy about it but in your defense, you did have coffee.
A/N: I didn't even have coffee today so it's weird that this is in my brain lol... enjoy 💚
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A series of knocks pulls your attention from the email you are typing and you check the clock in the corner of the screen. There's only one person who could be looking for you this late, the rest of your team went home a little over an hour ago.
You rub your eyes and get up from your desk, "Come in, Loki."
The door opens and the God of Mischief enters, "Hello darling." He meets you in the middle of your office and pulls you into a tight hug.
You reach up and kiss his lips lightly, pulling away much too soon for Loki's liking. He smirks, "Well now that won't do."
"No?" you ask with a smile.
He shakes his head no. You reach up again and as he leans to me you, you change direction slightly so you kiss his cheek. A giggle escapes you as Loki's hands move down to your hips and he pulls you flush against his body. His left hand raises to your cheek and he tilts your head up gently, then he presses his lips firmly to yours. His hand grips your hip tighter and you give into his kiss.
"I'm still working," you tell him breathlessly when your lips finally leave his.
"You work too hard," he tells you as he lets go of you.
He walks towards one of the empty chairs facing you desk and takes a seat. You move past him to sit behind you desk but he gently catches your wrist. Pulling lightly, he brings you towards him and lifts you onto his lap so you are facing him.
"I missed you today," he tells you in a low voice, his hands settle on your lower back.
"I missed you too, I'm sorry I had to cancel our lunch. Today has been awful," you wave towards your desk which is stacked high with files.
"Will you be much longer?" he asks, tucking a piece of hair behind you ear.
You shrug, "Hopefully only another hour. I just need to finish-". Your stomach rumbles, cutting into your sentence and you cringe when you can see in his eyes that he heard it.
"Did you eat anything today?" he asks in response to the sound.
"I had coffee," you answer quickly and immediately know that was the wrong answer.
His fingers drum rhythmically on your hip and he asks, "Did you at least drink any water?"
"Yea a little," you nod but he raises his eyebrow skeptically. "I mean, there's water in coffee."
He groans, his hand raising to cover his eyes. You hold back a giggle, knowing it won't help your situation. "Why are you like this?" he asks in a half joking tone.
You smile wide and shrug, "I like coffee."
"I can see that darling," he says, shaking his head lightly to hide a smile. "Dare I ask how many cups you've had today?"
You pretend to think for a moment then begin to count on your fingers, "One, two, three, four, five-"
"Y/N," he stops you.
"Only two," you answer.
"Are you sure?" he asks in a tone that means he clearly does not believe you.
You look away from his gaze but he touches your chin and guides your eyes back to his. "Four... but they were hours apart," you tell him honestly.
He shakes his head, "Love, you can't survive on coffee alone."
"That's literally how I made it through college," you inform him and cross your arms against your chest.
Without another word, he lifts you off his lap and sets you down so he can get up. "What-" you start to ask but he takes your hand and begins to move towards the door. "Where are we going? I still have work to do," you tell him.
"We're going to get dinner," he says as he opens the door.
You suddenly realize how hungry you are and follow him out into the hallway. "Ooh, can we get dessert too?" you ask with a smile.
He nods, "Of course, darling."
"And coffee?" you ask half joking.
"I think you've had enough coffee for the week," he answers as he pushes the button for the elevator.
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I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚
@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki @newtomofgods
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hoesformatt · 2 days
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FAVOURITE BITCH
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chris smut, this was the first thing I thought of when rubi posted that photo on the far-left on her story, she needs to let me get a bite of that ass 🍑
dom!chris • onlyfans model!poc!reader friendly
contains: masturbation (fem), use of toys (fem), spanking, degrading kink, reverse cowgirl, touching/groping, caught in the act, raw/unprotected sex (DON’T YOU EVER), drinking, pet names (use of daddy, whore, slut), no use of y/n, A WHOLE LOT OF DEGRADING
summary: you are staying with your bestfriends for the weekend but you have work to do so you decide to film in Chris’ bathroom where he walks in on you filming yourself and he puts matters in his own hands…
word count: 1.2k
semi proof-read
I switched up my outfit multiple times before I chose a skirt I like, it was extremely short, almost showing my thong.
“You like my skirt daddy?” I did a spin walking into the room as Chris’ eyes reverted to my ass that was peeking out the skirt. You know what they say: your skirt should be the same size as a belt.
Chris stared at my ass with no shame until I turned around and snapped him back to reality “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me daddy” Ignored that part for the umpteenth time because I knew he secretly loves it. “And what are you even dressing up for?” Chris got curious with the length of the skirt arising from his seat to graze my thigh.
“Nothing” Oh I had something. I planned on filming a video in Chris’ bathroom since I wasn’t able to book a room on such notice and I was staying at his place with his brothers for the whole weekend. It was the perfect timing because Chris was going out to buy another reposado of Don Julio since this one was almost finished.
I took my time putting back on my yellow romper, slowly buttoning it up but leaving two of them unbuttoned.
“Gimme a shot daddy” Chris took a shot glass from the side table before I stopped him. “Pour it into my mouth” He held the bottle in his hand, hesitantly pulling me in from my neck. My mouth was wide open as Chris tilted the bottle.
I swallowed it all in two rounds and Chris was attracted by way I drank, thinking about how I’d look taking his cum. He closed the bottle with the cork after he poured a shot in his own glass. “You need to slow down with these drinks” I laughed at his statement “You know these drinks make me more freaky” Winking at him.
Matt pulled into the driveway, only entering the house to leave the juice and soda’s on the kitchen counter, yelling Chris’ name.
Chris scurried to get his things together as he was unprepared, racing out the room before Matt began to sass him. “We’re leaving!” The door shut close and I went into Chris’ closet where I put my suitcase, unzipping it to find my vibrator among my other toys in discrete bag.
Bringing my phone and toy into the bathroom where I posted up my device onto the floating shelf in-front of the toilet.
I pressed the button to turn on the video, flaunting my ass to the screen before I un-buttoned my romper to expose my bare tits and wet pussy to the camera. The romper fell on the ground as I sat on the toilet seat, opening my legs moving my matching yellow thong written ‘I wanna bone’ on it, to the side.
Turning on the vibrator to the lowest setting, I brought it to my clit making my breath hitch at the sudden stimulation. “Fuck Chris” I moaned silently, applying more pressure to clit.
I bit down on my bottom lip to suppress my moans, failing miserably. My wetness coated the head of the vibrator as I put it at a higher pulse setting, pressing it farther onto my cunt. I threw my head back, making guttural moans and forcing my legs to stay apart.
The thought of Chris flooded my mind while I touched myself, thinking about his mouth being between my legs instead of this toy. I heard a little sound of the bedroom door opening but I was close to my orgasm which kept me there moaning for my release.
The bathroom door then swung open that revealed Chris on the other side with a smirk on his face. “I leave for not even 5 minutes and you’re playing with yourself?” I paused as he shamed me “Go on. Touch yourself”, Chris shut and locked the door behind himself, taking the toy from me so I could use my fingers. I continued to insert my digit, Chris licked his lips watching me with hunger “You’re so fucking pathetic”.
I threw my head back as I forced my fingers deep, “You want me to touch you?” I nodded suggestively and Chris carried my naked body and the camera to the bedroom, throwing me onto the bed then propping up the camera.
I quickly got impatient as Chris got undressed and sat up against the headboard. I straddled his lap, rushing to take his cock out from his boxers, “Daddy you’re cock is huge” His girth is was so thick that I drooled “Such a dick deprived whore” Chris gripped my neck while he aligned his length to my soaked hole, leisurely lowering my hips upon his cock.
“Shitt” My wall tightened around him to the point where he was unable to enter me. His dick was too big to fit inside me. Chris grasped my waist, firm enough to bruise my delicate deep-caramel skin and he violently pulled me down on his hard length. “FUCK DADDY!” I screamed loudly letting Chris kiss my neck then my shoulder. My warm tears raced down cheeks, feeling the sudden ache of Chris’ length stretching me out.
He didn’t even let me adjust to his size as he thrusted into me, abusing my hole. “Please daddy, slow!” I begged in his hands with tears drying up and my pussy began to throb. Chris then got impatient and slowly began to pick up his actions.
Chris placed his thumb on my clit, grazing it while I bounced on his cock, “Fuck yes” Chris’ dick filled me up completely just how I like it. He chuckled watching me fuck myself with his length “Fucking whore”.
His degradation turned me on but I wanted to take control so I pushed him back upon the headboard to spin around and aligned his length to hole once again. The shaft slid in with ease because of my wetness.
My eyes saw my brain, as I jumped on his cock, the sounds of our faps echoed throughout the room while I proceeded to grip onto the headboard with Chris’ dick tear my pussy apart.
My g-spot felt abused in the best way possible, “You’re fucking me so good daddy” His eyes traced my perfect curvy body, wanting to touch every part of my body. I bounced on his cock hypnotically “Shit, you’re a fucking slut” Chris smacked my ass, sending a sting down my spine and making me moan.
“Your ass is so soft… Imagine how pretty it'll look with my handprint on it” He smoothly caressed my ass making a handprint on my ass and smiling at it. Chris picked up the phone from the bedside table, flipping the camera to film my ass recoiling with every jump. “Cum for me mama” My hip stuttered when my cum spilled over on length and dripping on his lower stomach. He easily pressed his thumb to put my cum back inside me.
My ass and his crotch were covered in sticky white liquids as Chris lifted me off his dick and began to stroke his cock in his other hand. I turned to face his lap and he roughly gripped my throat for his strings of cum to land on my face “Such a cumslut” He pushed the camera to my face that was lathered with semen.
“I’d post this shit for free to teach everybody to fuck a whore like you”
tags: @lunariaxzz @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @luv4kozume @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @strniohoeee @iiheartstef @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @1800chokedathoe @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @love4chris @mattslutt @nicksmainbitch @luhsexcbihh @hearts4chriss @thenickgirl @itzdarling @ariieeesworld @vicsguitarr @sturniolololover @sturncakez @chrisgirl4life @jataviaswife @alinaa131 @bitchydragonparadise @mattsturniolosmainbitch @sturnioloco @sturniolosass @imaslut4kehlani @rileysturniolo @fuckshitslover @jnkvivi
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Someone older
Summary: As Fernando Alonso's daughter, you finally have the opportunity to watch him race live again after several years. During the event, you encounter a handsome Spanish Ferrari driver.
A/N: no use of Y/N, some spanish
Carlos Sainz x Alonso reader
masterlist
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It's not like you meant for it to happen, after all. Admitting it made you feel even a little bit weird. Because how do you explain your attraction to older men? Not that they have to be ancient; a few years older is good enough for you, they just need to have the vibe.
Sadly enough, or actually lucky enough for you, your Papi works with a lot of men that fit that vibe. Not that you would tell your Papi that, because how do you tell your dad, Fernando Alonso, that his Formula 1 job brings you around all these hot men that are your type, and most of them are at least four years older? Not that you're a baby; you're 22. Not that you can tell your Papi that; he would explode.
Either way, you can't blame a girl for looking, especially not at the most handsome Spaniard you've ever seen, Carlos Sainz. But you should probably stop being that oblivious with your looking before you walk by his garage; otherwise, he will realize, but most of all, your Papi will realize.
As I gather up the courage to walk by his garage, I get startled by a voice.
'Princesita, are you coming or not?' There he stands, your most favorite person in the world, your Papi. 'Of course I am coming, Papi!' But you're walking way too fast; the race only starts tomorrow. As you say that, you follow him quickly behind, as you don't know your way around the paddock. The last race you went to with your Papi was at least seven years ago when you were a 16-year-old girl, and your staring problem was way more obvious. Sorry, Mr. Vettel.
Alright, maybe you needed to practice a little bit more because there he stands, the man with the most beautiful brown puppy eyes, accompanied by the most beautiful cocky smirk. But that is not the problem; the problem is that he is talking to your Papi, and you're walking their way.
Princesita, come here. I want you to meet Carlos," your Papi says. As he speaks, you see his head turn to look at you. And yes, you most definitely still have your staring problem. Luckily for you, he seems to have the same problem as he looks you up and down and smirks. He gazes into your eyes with his beautiful brown eyes, and suddenly, you realize he's saying something. "Sorry, what did you say?" you try to laugh it off.
He laughs and says, 'Nice to meet you, hermosa,' as he shakes your hand a little too long for it not to be a little flirty. You're both interrupted by laughter and a deadly glare from your Papi. 'We have to go, Princesita,' he says in a stern voice. I try to keep my giggle inside, but it doesn't work as you follow your Papi to his garage. As I turn around, I notice a certain Ferrari driver still watching you.
Luckily for you, your Papi forgets about it soon enough. I mean, how could he not? Your Papi had a place on the podium today. And even more luckily for you, a certain beautiful Ferrari driver with beautiful brown eyes was also on the podium. That way, no one would notice your staring problem. Well, they probably wouldn't if he didn't keep looking back at me.
As your Papi runs off the podium, he runs to his team and to you to give you a big hug. And that is the moment that you know there will be a great celebration, which you could finally join. Maybe with enough luck, a certain Spanish Ferrari driver could also join; after all, he also has something to celebrate.
As I get ready for the club, I had the trouble of deciding what I should wear. After all, what do you wear to celebrate your Papi's win while still being sexy enough to seduce a certain Spanish Ferrari driver? After I think it is cute enough and my Papi is finally ready to go, we are on our way to the club. As we pull up, I realize that it's already packed, which is great news because that would mean that there are already some drivers inside.
As we walk around, I realize that maybe it isn't that great of news that it's so fully packed, as I already lost my Papi in two minutes with no one else I recognize. I push myself through the crowd, trying to get to the VIP section.
'Everything going alright, hermosa?' As I turn around to the person who whispered that in my ear, I see the most beautiful driver on the track and say, 'Yes, just trying to find Papi.'
He laughs. 'I don't think this is the place where you want to find your Papi.' Suddenly, I get pushed into him and look up into his beautiful eyes. He bends down, looking at my lips, and whispers, 'You want to dance, hermosa?
Before my mouth could even form a response, my head was already nodding yes. He laughs at me and smiles as we keep getting closer. As we dance, I notice him looking at my lips, and I kiss him. At first, he acts surprised until I feel him grin in our kiss and spin me around.
Before I even realized what was happening, we were in his hotel room, and I ended up in his bed. As I wake up to the most beautiful man grinning at me, he says, 'Good morning, hermosa.' I giggle and reply, 'Good morning.' He laughs and gives me a kiss until my phone rings very loudly. I grab it and realize I am in big trouble because I promised my Papi he could drive me home.
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sturnish · 2 days
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౨ৎ Brothers Best Friend ౨ৎ || ⋆౨ৎ˚ Matt Sturniolo⋆౨ৎ˚ || Series Master List ||
ᡣ𐭩 | Warnings - Smut
ᡣ𐭩 | Summary- Matt and Nate have always been friends. But throughout their friendship, Matt kinda developed feelings for Nate's younger sister, Y/n, but shes off limits for 2 reasons, her boyfriend, and the fact that she's his best friend's sister! what happens when she comes home crying because her boyfriend broke up with her?
Y/n let out a frustrated sigh as she stepped into her room. Her boyfriend had just broken up with her, leaving her heartbroken and angry. She slammed the door shut, tossing her purse onto the bed before collapsing onto the floor. She knew she should probably just talk to someone about how she was feeling, but the thought of facing anyone right now made her want to curl up and hide.
As she laid there, sobbing into her knees, she heard a knock at the door. She didn't even bother getting up, certain it was her mom or dad coming to check on her. But when the door opened, it wasn't them; it was Matt. Her older brother's best friend, and the one person she knew she shouldn't be talking to right now.
"Hey, you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. She looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy.
"Go away, Matt," she sniffed, wiping away a tear. "I just want to be alone."
Matt didn't move, just stood there, looking at her with those piercing blue eyes. She could see the conflict in them, the part of him that wanted to help and the part that knew he shouldn't. Finally, he seemed to make a decision.
"Look, I know I'm not supposed to talk to you right now, but I can't just leave you like this," he said, taking a step closer. "Just let me… I dunno, just stay for a bit?"
Y/n hesitated, feeling a mixture of annoyance and relief wash over her. "Fine," she muttered, turning away and curling back up on the bed. She heard him sit down next to her, but she didn't look at him. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
Time seemed to drag on as they sat there in silence. Y/n didn't know what to say to Matt, or even if she wanted to say anything at all. She just wanted to be left alone to wallow in her misery. But after a while, she felt Matt's hand on her shoulder, and when she looked up at him, she saw the concern etched into his features.
"He wasn't worth it, you know," he said gently. "You deserve better than that."
Y/n wanted to roll her eyes, but she couldn't bring herself to be that mean. "Thanks," she mumbled. "I guess."
Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm not trying to make this about me, or anything. I just… I care about you, you know? And I hate seeing you hurt like this." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I mean, if you want, I could make you feel better. You know, take your mind off things for a bit."
Y/n looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice wavering. She knew what he was insinuating, and despite the anger and hurt that still coursed through her veins, a small part of her was curious.
"I came over here to smoke with Nate, but he went to the gas station to get us some snacks." he says, pulling a pre roll out of his jacket pocket along with a lighter. "what do you say?" He flicks the lighter on and holds it under the joint.
she nods and they sit together on the floor to smoke. He hands her the joint and she takes a long drag, feeling the familiar warmth spread through her chest.
"It's not fair, you know?" she says, her words slightly slurred. "I was happy with him, and now he just… just throws it all away."
"Well," Matt says, taking the joint back and taking a drag himself. "It's not like you could really say you lost anything." He pauses, looking at her intently. "Besides, you've always had me, haven't you?" He grins, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Y/n pokes Matts shoulder, "shut up'' she teases, but there's a hint of a blush creeping up her neck. "You're such a jerk sometimes."
"And you love it," he says, laughing. Y/n lays her head on his lap. "I'm serious, though. You're too good for him. Better things are coming, I promise."
They sit there, the smoke from the joint swirling around them, and Y/n begins to feel a little bit better. Not great, but better. She realizes that maybe Matt was right; she had always had him. And while she knew she couldn't rely on him for everything, it was nice to know she had someone who cared about her.
"what if i just kiss you?" Matt says, breaking the silence. "just to make you feel better?" He looks down at her, his expression serious.
Y/n laughs, shaking her head. "You're such a dick," she says, but she can't help the tiny smile that creeps onto her lips. "Fine, but only if I get to kiss you back."
Matt leans down, his lips meeting hers in a soft, gentle kiss. It starts out sweet and innocent, but quickly deepens, their tongues tangling together as they explore each other's mouths. Y/n feels a jolt of electricity run through her body, and for a moment, she forgets all about the pain.
When they finally pull away, they're both breathing heavily, their faces flushed. "See?" Matt says, grinning. "I told you I could make you feel better."
"Yeah," Y/n says, her voice slightly raspy. "You did."
"what if i do it again?" He says, his hand resting around her neck, pulling her closer. Y/n feels herself growing wet between her legs.
"Okay," she whispers, and then he's kissing her again, his tongue dancing with hers, and she loses herself in the sensation. She forgets about everything else except for the way his mouth moves against hers, the way his hand feels on her skin.
When they finally come up for air again, she's breathless and disoriented.
Matt kisses her neck, trailing his lips down to her collarbone. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, nibbling gently on her skin. "And you taste so good."
She moans softly, arching her back into his touch. "Matt," she whispers, her fingers tangled in his hair. "I…"
He looks up at her, his eyes intense. "Do you want more?"
She nods, her heart racing. "Yes," she whispers. "I want more."
He pulls back, looking down at her body. "You're wearing that?" he asks, gesturing to her tank top.
She nods, suddenly self-conscious. "I don't have a spare."
He smiles, running his fingers down her stomach. "Then we'll just have to make do." With a swift motion, he rips her tank top off, revealing her bra to the cool night air.
Y/n gasps, her nipples hardening instantly. "Matt," she whispers, her hands going to his shoulders.
He leans in, taking one of her nipples into his mouth and sucking gently. "God, you taste so good," he groans, moving to the other one. "So fucking good."
She arches her back off the floor, her hips writhing as she feels the sensation building inside of her. He reaches down, unbuckling her jeans and sliding them down her legs, revealing her black lace underwear.
"You're so fucking hot," he growls, his voice thick with desire. He pushes her jeans and underwear down her legs, revealing her completely. "I've wanted to do this for so long."
He leans in, kissing her again, his tongue dancing with hers as he pushes his body against hers. She can feel him hard through his pants, grinding against her. Her breath hitches as she feels herself growing wetter, more desperate for him.
Matt breaks the kiss, his eyes searching hers. "Tell me you want this," he whispers. "Tell me you want me."
She nods, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "I want you," she whispers. "I want you so much."
He groans, pushing her back onto the floor, his weight pressing down on top of her. His hand finds its way between their bodies, sliding over her wet folds. She gasps, arching her back off the floor, her hips meeting his touch.
He thrusts his fingers inside her, finding her entrance easily. "God, you're so wet," he whispers, his voice hoarse. "So fucking hot."
She moans, her head spinning with pleasure. She can feel him moving inside her, his fingers finding a rhythm that sends shockwaves of pleasure through her body. "Matt," she whimpers, her fingernails digging into the carpet. "I'm going to… I'm going to…"
"Come for me," he whispers, his lips against her ear. "Come on my fingers, baby."
And then she's coming, her body shuddering with the force of the orgasm. He thrusts his fingers inside her again and again, milking her as she cries out his name. When she finally goes limp beneath him, he groans, sliding his fingers out of her and rolling to the side, panting heavily.
Matt flips her around so her stomach is on the floor. "you're gonna be a good little girl, aren't you?" he asks, his voice rough. "You're gonna do whatever I tell you to do?" She nods, still breathless, her heart racing. Matt spanks her, "i'm gonna need words, baby." he says. "Y-yes" "Good girl," he says, and then he removes his belt and ties her hands behind her back.
"You're gonna take my cock like the good little slut you are, right baby?"
"Y-yes," she moans, arching her back, needing him inside of her.
He pushes her legs apart, revealing her wetness, "so wet for me, baby" he says, and then he pushes inside her, groaning as he feels her tightness. He begins to thrust, hard and fast, their bodies slapping together in a rhythm that's almost painful. "Fuck, you're so good," he growls, his teeth gritted.
"can you stay quiet for me, baby?" he whispers, his lips against her ear. She nods, her eyes closed."i need words baby" he says,
"Y-yes, Matt" she moans.
"That's it, that's what I need. Fuck, you're driving me crazy." He picks up the pace, his hips slamming into hers as he thrusts deeper and deeper. "You feel so good," he grunts, "so fucking good."
Her head falls back, her body trembling as she feels herself building towards another orgasm. she lets out a whine, "Matt, I'm…"
"Don't you dare," he warns, his voice low and threatening. "i told you not to make a sound." he says, slowing down his thrusts and edging her.
she lets out a cry at the loss of pleasure. "I'm sorry," she whimpers.
"are you gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me?" he asks, his voice strained.
"Y-yes," she whispers, tears rolling down her cheeks.
He picks up the speed, fucking her harder and faster, his hips slapping against hers. "That's it, taking my cock like a good girl" he growls. She can feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, the tension building inside her.
"Please?" she says, her voice cracking, "Please what princess?" he teases, "P-please let me cum" she whines. "Go ahead, baby."
And then she does, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. She cries out, wave after wave of pleasure wash over her. Matt groans, thrusting hard.
"M-matt! " She whines, overstimulating. "Take it." He growls. "i-i cant !" she cries. "Hold on for me, baby."
Matt continues to thrust into her.
"I'm gonna cum, baby." he says. "M-me too" she whispers, already feeling another orgasm building inside her.
"Good girl." He says, and with a final thrust, he cums, filling her up. He collapses on top of her, his weight pressing her into the carpet. His breath comes out in ragged gasps as they both catch their breath.
"That was…so good," he whispers, kissing her neck. "You're perfect, baby." She nuzzles into his chest, her body still tingling from the pleasure.
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Taglist - @gvf23 @3kslav
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justivik · 2 days
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; italian boyfriend! yandere x fem! reader
english isn't my first language
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You have been in a relationship with Matthew for 7 months. You have lived very nice moments like going out to fancy restaurants or cooking together on a Saturday night, no doubt you felt very lucky to have him by your side but there was something that caught your attention about him.
His pathological jealousy.
He would tell you that he trusted you but not others, it seemed like all day long he was suspicious of all the men and even women who surrounded you and maintained a friendship with you. It seems like an endless loop when you two fight, it was always suspicions on his part against you. The two of you would fight, make up and end up getting intimate. Almost like that Katy Perry song; you loved your boyfriend and you were determined to put an end to that intense jealousy so you could have a stable relationship…. Or that was your idea. You two went back to the same fight with the same theme, his distorted suspicions showing with every word and look he directed at you.
“Understand me, coure mio. I feel that your new coworker is trying to flirt with you, I've seen how he looks at you and how he tries to have some friction with you and that makes me feel…. disgustato!” He shouted whispering the last word so as not to attract the attention of the next door neighbors, with his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw tighter.
“He has no other intentions, Matt. He's already engaged to his partner and he was just being nice.”
“Being nice, being nice! You're lying! He was looking at you with other intentions and his touches were not friendly. No touch from a man who is not me is friendly.” He said.
You watched as he brought his left hand to his face with an annoyed sigh, his eyelashes pointing downward as his lips traced inaudible whispers. You stood in silence as Matt tried to calm his fit of jealousy, his hands clenched and his jaw went back to the same tense state. He sat down on the couch closer and looked at you, his sweet eyes were now darkly bitter, he opened his lips to say something again.
“Ti amo, e ho bisogno che tu mi capisca that he is not a good man, stay away from him and don't talk to him anymore. He is not a good influence and look at the problems he is bringing.”
You love it when he speaks Italian and he knows the power of saying sweet words to you in his native language. He knew how to manipulate you quickly and easily, making you nervous and blushing but this time you weren't going to let him, you were tired of the same arguments.
”He's not guilty of anything, Matt. Work on your fucking jealousy before we break up this relationship and we're more broken than anything.” You looked into his eyes and how they turned from angry to scared of losing you.
Desperate babbling was coming out of his mouth, head tilted from side to side in a no.
“If you leave me, I'd die! Don't think stupid things, coure mio.” He kept flattering you with words as soft as a rose but painful as its thorns.
“Stay with me, please. I love you, not anyone else. You!”
You felt Matthew's arms around your waist, his face on your stomach and his tears staining your shirt. You sighed deeply and then stroked his messy hair and promised him that you would never leave his side. This time your fight ended in something more than fucking…It all happened so fast, but you were glad your fight didn't last more than an hour. You would have to do a lot of work with your boyfriend on his jealousy and insecurities.
“I'll never leave you, honey”
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My first post & open request!!!
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Hungover: knight!price x princess!reader
"Do you need a bucket?"
"Don't speak to me right now."
Sir John Price didn't try to hide his smile as he stood in the solar near the couch where you laid sprawled out. You had called him there so you could out early in the morning, however you ended confining yourself to the couch with a shawl covering your eyes.
"How are you not bedridden like me?" You groaned and he chuckled.
"Because," He began. He walked to the door and opened it, luckily catching one of the servants and asking her to bring you tea before he shut the door again. "I have a tolerance. You've barely drank more than a cup of wine in your life."
"Don't speak about alcohol, I may be sick."
Price scoffed and walked back over to you. He glanced around the room, shutting the curtains enough to where most of the sunlight was hidden but still illuminated the room before he turned to you. He knew there was no way you were going outside today, maybe not even outside the solar.
Because of that he felt a little out of place. You had no need for him, even if he wanted to stay. It would be a very bad look on you if he were stay around when you didn't need him and he didn't want to jeopardize you. There was also nothing he could do in the solar; he couldn't embroider or play chess because you were not capable.
There were the books but he'd rather do something else to torture himself with them.
"Should I leave, your highness?" He wondered but you shook your head.
"Keep me company. I won't fall asleep." You said softly.
"Do you believe that's wise?"
You peeked at him from behind the shawl and saw his concerned look. He glanced at the door again, saying it without saying it, and you thought for a long moment.
"Servants see everything but they seldom speak to anyone about it." You assure him as you placed the shawl back over your eyes. "And if I tell them I want you here, then they won't question it."
Price hummed, unable to stop the smile that tugged at his lips as he took a seat. You wanted him here.
"Should've brought my cards." He stretched out in the chair and looked through the crack of the curtains.
"You're free to the books." You gestured vaguely to the room before you brought the shawl down from your eyes. "I know, you could read to me."
Price's eyes widened and he looked at you with surprise. His mouth went a little dry as you stared at him with genuine joy at the idea yet he couldn't return it.
"You want to listen to me?" He wondered and you nodded.
"I'll fall asleep otherwise." You argued softly, though you weren't going to admit he might put you to sleep as well.
As much as he wanted to argue he could see that you weren't going to back down. He knew you wouldn't but now he was trapped, backed into a corner with no way to recover from this.
He could only imagine what you would say to him. What you might think, the crown princess of pure noble blood, would do when you found out the best knight in the realm's secret.
Regrettably he stood and walked to the shelf, staring at the many spines of the books.
"What should I read to you?" He's not sure why he asked, it's not like he would be able to pick out the right one.
"It doesn't matter, I've read them all." You hummed and you situated yourself more comfortably. "Which reminds me, I need to get different books soon."
Price hummed, noting that as he pulled out a random book. He eyed the cover, the engraved words meaning nothing to him as he felt himself grow even more nervous.
Perhaps he could come up with an excuse to leave...no he couldn't. He didn't want to hurt your feeling to save his pride.
"This one?" He held it up so you could see.
"Oh, that's one of my favorites! Good choice, Sir John." You smile and he sucked in his lips as his heart sunk.
"Alright..."
Price sat back in his chair and flipped the book open, pointedly ignoring your expectant stare as he stared at the first page. He couldn't even begin to guess what any of the words meant, only being able to recognize "the" "and" and "a". On maps he just memorized what others called the names on them, for letters he made Kyle write them. Here he had no crutch, nothing to fall back on and he shifted uncomfortably.
"Can you read, Sir John?" Your voice was softer but he couldn't look at you.
"No, your highness." He admitted and shut the book.
"Did your father not teach you?" You titled your head with confusion. "All squires get an education."
He couldn't lie anymore. He shook his head and kept his eyes on the cover of the book.
"I was very fortunate that the lord who took me in did, but I was already of age to start training, so I didn't have the time."
Your eyes widened with realization.
"You weren't born a noble?"
"No."
You stayed silent and Price found it hard not to feel some sort of shame. He hadn't deliberately lied, it was just that everyone had assumed he was fully noble without question. He grew up hidden among them, seeing a part of life he hadn't even dreamed of knowing that many of the other knights he had trained with would deny his nobility simply because his parents were peasants.
He knew how quickly things would fall apart if anyone found out, even if he was the best knight.
Now you knew.
It was another nail in the coffin of his unattainable desires. Not only was he a knight but he was technically a peasant. Your mother would punish you harder, which meant it was a good thing it'd never come to be.
Though he could only imagine how much this changed how you saw him.
"Why are you ashamed?" You sat up slowly and he finally glanced at you.
"You're not that naïve. Many would see me as a false knight despite my best efforts." He explained and you looked at him with soft yet serious eyes.
"Do their opinion mean more than your skills?"
Price's eyebrows knitted together and he looked at you for a moment. He had never thought about it that way but in reality the only thing that mattered to him was that the job got done, and that the crown was safe. That you were safe.
When he shook his head you nodded with finality.
"It shouldn't matter anyway. A knight's value is in his skill and you're incredibly well trained and brave." You said and he looked away bashfully. "If I heard such nonsense I wouldn't let it stand."
"You flatter me, your highness." He flashed you a nervous smile and you returned it.
"Better than barbaric."
He scoffed and nodded but couldn't think of anything else to say. He didn't like that you knew but seeing that you didn't care made him feel somewhat better. And knowing how you think of him took most of the embarrassment away.
He grabbed the book and stood up to put it back when you spoke.
"I'll teach you to read." You stated and he looked at you incredulously.
"I can't ask you to do that-"
"You didn't. I said I would."
Somehow you always managed to surprise him in the strangest ways possible. He watched you sigh in thought as you lounged back down on the couch and situate yourself more comfortably.
You stared at him with an unreadable look in your eyes that made him shift on his feet.
"Once I'm better." You smiled and closed your eyes. "Now tell me a story, or we'll both waste away from boredom."
He stared at you, unsure yet he couldn't help the way that his shoulders felt less tense and how...excited he felt to be able to read in the future.
The things he could do for you once he could would be endless.
"A story, eh? This one will be better than your books."
A/n: Sir John Price is not a poet and yet maybe he might write you something someday
Tags: @deadbranch @makayla-666 @glitterypirateduck @dumbbitchgalore @m0chac0ffee @dragonbe-writing @sleepyoriana @twismare @blush-haze @waiting-so-long @sofasoap
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cameronspecial · 17 hours
Note
how about we go a lil angsty? the reader hadn’t yet told him about her being pregnant bcs she remembers Drew once said he doesnt know if he wants to be a dad and so she tried to bring the topic up with hypothetical questions and his answers not exactly the thing she wanted to hear so she went all silent and pulled herself away and stuff.
I dont wanna give it away, so please you decide the ending..either they communicate and Dad!Rafe rise or…
I Want This
Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of Abortions and Miscommunication
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.2K
Masterlist
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Well… She doesn’t know what she expected the results to be, but this is definitely an answer. Y/N doesn’t even think she can focus on the opinion she has of this situation because all she can think about is Drew’s.
———
“Awww, Babe, look at this pic of Lils that Mac sent me,” he gushed, holding his phone up to his fiancée. She looked up from her laptop, “So cute. Ugh, I miss them so much. I mean look at those little baby rolls. I just want to cuddle the cutie.” He smiled and brought her head under the crook of his neck. “I know. We have to visit them soon. I’m so glad I have a niece. It means I can be the fun uncle forever and never have to be a dad,” he mindlessly thought out loud, going back to scrolling on his phone. This caused her to freeze; they never talked about having kids, but he was so good with them that she assumed he would want them. She should’ve asked him about it because she wanted them. She didn’t though. Kids were important to her and so was Drew. She wasn’t ready to cause a rift in their relationship because of something small. 
———
Staring at the positive pregnancy test, she has to figure out a way to gauge how he would feel about it before actually telling him the truth. Once she knows how he feels, it will help her decide how she wants to feel about it seeing that if they are on the opposite page, then she would have to make a difficult decision. She shoves the positive tests into the box and hides them in her makeup drawer. He never goes looking there. She exits the bathroom, lets out a deep breath, and heads to the kitchen to start getting lunch ready. Drew is coming home from filming in Morocco later today. The music blasting through the speakers makes her unaware of the new presence in the house. He smiles at the dancing silhouette cutting potatoes. His hand drops over her eyes and she sets the knife down with a grin. Her arms wrap around her neck to bring him down towards her. This allows her to pepper his face with kisses. “Hey, you weren’t supposed to be back until tonight,” she notices, turning the music off. His hand rests on her hip, “I was, but I was offered an early flight and I couldn’t say no to seeing my girl early. I missed you and I love you.” She sinks into his hold. “I missed and love you too.”
The couple spend the next half an hour cooking together before settling themselves at the dining room table. Since they talked to each other throughout cooking, silence falls over them. A chime comes from his phone and he checks it to see a text from his sister. “Mac is planning on coming down with Lils and my mom soon. They can stay in the guest room, right?” Drew confirms, reading over the text again. She nods, “Yeah, I’ll get it ready over the weekend and buy one of those travelling crib things for Lils. It is going to be fun to have a baby around the house. The guest room would make a nice baby room in the future. It has nice big windows and the closet is the perfect size.” The chuckle that comes out of his mouth drops her stomach into a furnace. 
“What’s so funny?” she questions. He shrugs, “Not the babysitting part. They could both use a break and I will never say no to spending time with my niece. It’s just the thought of having to turn the guest room into a baby room is funny.” 
“Oh, why?”
“I don’t know. It’s a guest room. I mean where would our family stay when they come over?” 
“Yeah, where would they stay?”
She should probably ask if he meant he can’t imagine the room as a baby room right now or if it was a forever thought; however, she is scared of the answer she is going to get so she shuts down the conversation. They sit in a new tension-filled silence that he pretends he can’t feel. 
———
After lunch, Y/N retreats to the backyard to swing in the hammock. This tells him that she needs some space and he knows she is upset when she is still outside at eleven p.m. The friction of the patio door sliding against each other makes her turn to him. She doesn’t acknowledge his presence, waiting for him to say something. He places the plate of pasta he made for dinner onto the side table beside the hammock. “I found the pregnancy tests,” he states, bringing one of the patio chairs close to her. She freezes and sits up. Her legs swing over the fabric to face him, “How?” “Maddie helped me pick out clay pot Moroccan lipstick for you and I wanted to surprise you with it. I was going to hide it in your drawer…” he explains, eyes falling to his fingers and trailing off at the end. Her head moves up and down. Her thoughts are moving around her head a thousand miles a second. He is going to break up with her. He is going to make her have an abortion. Or worse. He is going to make her choose between the baby or him on the spot. 
He grows nervous when she doesn’t say anything and his suspicions are confirmed. He understands why she is unsure about talking to him about this. The way he has spoken about having a baby in the past could’ve given her the wrong idea. He hesitantly reaches to place a hand on hers and does it when she doesn’t shy away. “I want you to know that the decision about what we do with the baby is up to you and I will be at your side during the whole process,” he assures. Her confusion causes tears to crop up in her eyes, “You don’t want the baby though. I know that, so if you are going to break up with me because I do, then just do it. But making me have to choose is kinda cruel.” His heart squeezes, hating that his words aren’t coming out as he means them to be. His head shakes like crazy and he sits beside her. He brings her head against his chest, “Babe, I don’t want to break up with you. I want to have this baby with you too.”
“You want the baby? Then how come you don’t think the guest room would be a good baby room?”
“Because my office would be a better one. The windows aren’t too big so it won’t wake the baby up in the morning and the closet there is even bigger, so when they get older they can have as many clothes as their heart desires.”
“Okay, you are right… What about when you said you want to be an uncle forever and never be a dad?”
“Honestly, I never really thought I would want to be a dad. I was content with being an uncle, but, Babe, when I found that pregnancy test, all I could think about was how happy I was to be bringing a child into the world with the most amazing woman in the world and I couldn’t wait to raise them with you.”
She leans back and rests a warm palm on his cheeks, trying to hold back her tears. “So you want to have this baby?” she verifies. He kisses the tears away, “I want this, Babe. I promise. We are going to do this. Together.”
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura
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Not to be a bitch or anything but I feel like the marauders fandom is losing their flavor and sense of whimsy
Like maybe it's bc it was a new sparkling thing for me to enjoy but I feel like before I had stumbled into a room with everyone sitting in a circle with their monster high dolls out and like sharing clothes and they were like "hey have you seen these two guys in the Harry Potter movies? Yeah well they kiss now wanna play with us?" And then I went and sat down with them and it was all gravy and there were so many new characters to relate to and put in different scenarios and it was so fun bc like everyone was just like little bottom dwelling queers with raccoons as their role models like "actually so I think Sirius is genderfluid what do we think?" And the crowd went wild
and now its like all white characters with no flavor and people are like "guys James Potter is a swiftie" and "Taylor Swift wrote all the young dudes" and "Sirius black is manly and I hate the way you twinked him it's so unrealistic" and "Jily is the only acceptable ship bc jegulus nor regulily wouldn't have happened" and it's just like when the annoying kid in your class goes "no I'm tired of you guys they're my friend now" and then sits next to you and pretends to be asking you genuine questions all while glancing over at their friends and its like we spent all this time playing with our monster high dolls and diy-ing their outfits and made our doll houses out of shoeboxes and these guys come in here and start stomping on all our toys and bringing in their two story barbie house
Basically it used to feel like playing with monster high dolls with all my cool monster high doll friends and now I feel like everyone is playing with Barbies and I miss our MOTHER FREAKING CARDBOARD DOLL HOUSE
Anyways going to get back to writing rosekiller smut
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