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#i remember andrea was there too
glamfellens · 5 months
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going back to pentiment for a second but i love the way the game tells stories with FOOD!!!!! when you sit down with father gernot his table is full! meanwhile the villagers are scraping by on bread and pottage. all the while he's insisting on taxing those villagers
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the color and vibrancy and opulence contrasting sooo heavily against the beige, scraped together meal thats feeding what? 4 people? two of whom are guests!! meanwhile gernot is laying out that spread for himself and andreas. hhhhhhh
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lvcys · 1 year
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can you pull over?
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cainite-bite · 6 months
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one of my most favorite pet peeves is when someone talks about an old edgy game and is like "its a shame because you couldn't just make that nowdays it would NEVER have been allowed its a shame how we've fallen" but like you get to look at them in comparison to things we have now that are actively even more grusome than ever. People say manhunt couldn't be released today because its too brutal but then the last of us has some extra brutal executions too, and don't even get me started on how the MK series is nowadays. "they would have to censor the story so heavily today so im glad [blank] came out years ago" they say, as some weren't already censored to tone it down- a perfect example of that is always going to be Twisted Metal Black where they changed up Raven's, Dollface's, Agent Stone's, Preacher's, John Doe's story to simmer them all down and lighten the blow, expunging certain levels ambient sounds because the implications of domestic violence, and the changing of No-face's surgical cutscene to make it not as explicitly nasty and meanwhile modern games have been actively stepping it up to be even worse.
"Games are just too prudish nowdays we couldnt even get another ghostly desires LOL" and meanwhile the front page to steam is literally littered with hentai games. that do not hide the lewd and raunchy screenshots. sometimes its a freshly creampied pussy in your face. yeah that. Im sorry but there's so much god damn porn games that are available to buy and some of it is mainstream even (Huniepop for instance).
Back in the day NightTrap was rated as an Adult game. Now? It's T for teen because how tame it kinda is. We're not as prudish or pearlclutchy on literally any of these points as we used to be and thank fucking god for that- but literally take off the nostolgia goggles cause its fuckin blinding you sweetie
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jazzymarie1006 · 2 years
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More Mollibby & One-Sided!Mollandrea cause I got more ideas that continue to make me laugh about this headcanon.
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Before "Home Is Where The Haunt Is", Molly looked SO UNCOMFORTABLE when Andrea gets quite close to her.
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Meanwhile, Molly has NO PROBLEMS when getting incredibly close to Libby or when Libby pulls her close. Molly, we KNOW you have favorite!
I honestly believe that Andrea thinks that Molly developed a crush on her at the end of "The Don't Gooder", completely unaware that she was trying to fix HER OWN MISTAKE.
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Meanwhile Molly here with a perfectly timed sky heart, was so desperate to make a forever member with Libby (and Scratch), cause she didn't know where'd they be in fifty years. Becoming homeless & almost dying didn't really help.
Andrea believing that Molly has a crush on her, would TOTALLY expect Molly to show up at her door with a bouquet of flowers...
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Meanwhile Molly's over here giving Libby a whole baby kitten for Christmas!
Following up for the last one, Andrea would also think that Molly has a framed photo of her, when she actually has a framed photo of Libby.
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While Andrea would probably try to keep Molly around by "friend-zoning" her with material things...
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Molly is still over here cherishing the friendship Libby gave her!
Molly really said "Instead of hanging out with the luckiest girl in Brighton, I'm gonna hang out with the unluckiest girl in Brighton!"
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Imagine if at some point during their time at Brighton Middle School, these three join the year book group.
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Andrea would totally think Molly would want selfies with her... And then you cut to Molly taking all sorts of fun selfies with Libby.
Imagine a scenario where the class is watching a horror movie, Andrea would think that Molly would wanna hold her hand. Saying something like "Aww Molly! You must be scared! You can hold my hand if you want. Not that I'M scared or anything..."
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Only to be absolutely ignored by Molly, who is having a blast with Libby as they quietly roast the whole movie!
Imagine a middle school dance scenario though!
Andrea's TOTALLY expecting that Molly's gonna ask her to the dance, even saying to herself that "I'll probably have to turn her down! It's not like I WANNA go to the dance with her. It'll ruined our bestie status!"
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Only for Molly to be helping out Libby pick out suits and dresses so the two of them can go together!
What do you all think of these? As you can see I had lots of fun with these.
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yess1re · 2 years
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22 - “home together”
prev. | beginning | next
[transcript under the cut]
   RACHEL: Where did you go today?    ANDREA: Ah, well, remember how I told you about Atlas?    RACHEL: Your magic tutor?    ANDREA: Well… Yeah. He took me to a magic shop around Willow Creek.    RACHEL: Isagani’s? That brings back some memories! I should at least drop by sometime…    ANDREA: I met the owner- she talked about you.    RACHEL: Only good things, I hope? It's hard to gauge what Patrice says - could never get a straightforward answer from her.    ANDREA: Just… Don’t you ever regret it? Like, quitting magic? Patrice was describing you as if you were some prodigy!    RACHEL: She loves to exaggerate. Though, not to say I wasn’t just average (laughs) And, I never regret many things Andy. I think about my choices very carefully, consider all of the ins-and-outs, and I try and make it happen.    RACHEL: And it’s not like I quit-quit magic. I just found that it no longer had to be my focus in life. Though… it took me a long time to realise that. I really thought I wanted to, but in hindsight, I wouldn’t have loved doing it.    ANDREA: Even if you were really good at it?    RACHEL: Even if I was really good at it… Are you having second thoughts about magic?    ANDREA: I’m not. I was just, surprised to know that you were nearly a magic master.    RACHEL: I used to do all sorts of things before you, baby girl. Maybe you should ask Patrice about it sometime.    ANDREA: Yeah…    RACHEL: Come to think of it, Atlas has grown so much since I last saw him - I didn’t even recognize him!    ANDREA: Yeah… Wait, what?
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illgiveyouahint · 2 years
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I really like that the czech tv is every few weeks or so switching their correspondents in Ukraine. We don't really have war correspondents but rather we have correspondents for different regions. However war is hell and so presumably for the mental health of the journalists they keep switching them up so that none of the correspondents are there for too long.
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chussyracing · 2 years
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Ok so this is probably a SUPER unpopular opinion but I’m kind of struggling to feel a lot of sympathy for Charles’ watch being stolen? like, don’t get me wrong, I love him and I’m EXTREMELY glad he wasn’t hurt!!! theft is always wrong, no one ever deserves to be stolen from, no matter who they are, and as someone who’s been mugged before (had my wallet stolen outside a pub), it definitely makes you feel so unsafe and so violated… but, idk, it seems like this was more of a pick-pocket situation? also, a watch is a watch, regardless of how much it costs? I’m certainly not saying he shouldn’t have been wearing it if he didn’t want it to be stolen, it’s his right to wear whatever he wants wherever he wants without being a victim of theft… but the fact remains, he’s someone who CAN afford to wear 300,000 euros on his wrist when it would take the vast majority of people over 25 years to earn that (some never will) and so many are struggling to just cover their rent or even pay for food? Strangely I think I’d feel worse for someone who had their $10 watch stolen since they’d probably need that watch to tell them the time, not just wear it as an accessory, so that they’re not late for work or something… I get that people are angry and upset that he’s been taken advantage of whilst taking photos with fans and they think that this may impact how he views his fans, but I don’t think a lot of people realise that, whilst he is indeed a lovely guy who’s kind enough to take the time to stop for fans, his job necessitates him to interact with the public? he definitely doesn’t need to always stop, so, for sure, part of it is just him being nice cause that’s who he is, but he’s still selling a brand and I’m sure he knows very well that how he carries himself reflects on Ferrari and that he’s contractually obligated to maintain a certain image? anyways, idk if any of this makes sense but yeah… I’m feeling conflicted (and alone in this feeling) cause whilst I do feel bad for him, I’m finding it a bit hard to feel as sorry for him as others seem to be? Would love to know your thoughts x
yeah no this is controversial
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harlowhouseparty · 2 months
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i’m now watching motocrossed and it still slaps
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tedhugheshater · 2 months
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I think it's crazy how so many "leftists" can comprehend Malcolm X but not comprehend Andrea Dworkin. Maybe I am biased as an admirer of both, but their ideas have always been similar to me, even if they referred to different struggles.
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oscill4te · 5 months
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looking at my old goodreads account from highschool & like i dont remember the plot or message of most of these books, but i one-starred so of them, damn.
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feral4daryl · 4 months
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masterlist || MDNI
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sweet scent.
perv!daryl x fem!reader
summary: while looking for his crossbow around the house, daryl ends up finding a pile of your dirty clothes and... used panties of yours. and when no one's looking, he decides to have some fun with them.
warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl is in his late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18), not entirely proofread, smut, mean!daryl sort of, corruption kink, daryl being an absolute pervert, panties sniffing, daddy kink, masturbation, cussing, daryl imagining himself doing the dirtiest things to you (unprotected p-in-v, squirting, face fucking, praising, loss of virginity, cunnilingus and i think that's pretty much it)
word count: 2.8k
a/n: please proceed with caution, this piece of work portrays a few extreme or unusual fetishes, so if you're not comfortable with any of those i've listed above please do not ready this. the idea that inspired this work originally belongs to @dilfsandmartinis.
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if there was something daryl absolutely hated, it was the feeling of uselessness.
since andrea had mistaken him for a walker and shot him from afar, grazing his head, useless was exactly how he felt, having to lay down on a bed the whole day and night, doing absolutely nothing but be left alone with his own thoughts. and oh, what a disgraceful fate.
everytime he wasn't focused on hunting, fighting or surviving in general, the farmer's sweet younger daughter flooded his mind. your hair, your face, your stupidly adorable sundresses, everything about you was so... distracting.
daryl wasn't ever the kind of guy to simp for a woman, but that one specific girl made him feel emotions and sensations that were hidden deep within his being for years, maybe even decades. feelings he thought had vanished from his heart a long time ago were now blooming all over again, like he was some stupid teenager looking at a playboy magazine for the first time.
there was something about your innocence, your adorable mannerisms, your sweet voice and your kindness that had awakened something in him, something he wasn't quite sure what it was.
no, he wasn't exactly a young man. and while being aware that you were very young, he couldn't help but feel so guilty for having those feelings. whenever you bended over to pick something up, he had to fight demons not to have a glimpse of your panties. he often wondered how could you be so careless by exposing yourself like that, even if you didn't do it on purpose.
and there was him again, thinking about you. it's like no matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they were like water, always finding a way in.
he huffed, feeling defeated. he knew he was still recovering from the incident, and that he should rest, but why was he following orders around anyways? he wasn't a damn puppy. plus, everybody else had left him there to go looking for sophia. he wanted to be able to help too. he was alive after all, and if he was alive, he believed he should be on his feet.
so that's what he did. he slowly lifted his right foot, resting it on the floor, then he did the same with his left one. his body reluctantly lifted itself up, and he immediately could feel the consequences for laying down for so long, his back killing him and his vision a bit foggy. anyways, he ignored any discomfort and started walking slowly, his head still a little dizzy.
then, he remembered he needed his trustworthy crossbow, he couldn't just leave unprotected like that. he looked around the room he was settled in but it was nowhere to be seen. he knew it was still in the house, so he left the room. he started walking down the corridor, his eyes attentively looking for any signs of his crossbow. he was even starting to think that his mates might've hidden it to force him to stay in the house when he spotted a halfway open door.
his calloused hands pulled it open, revealing a small bedroom, all pink themed and stupidly decorated. no, his crossbow wasn't likely to be there, it just looked like it belonged to one of hershel's daughters, but it was like something was calling him in.
he stepped in the room and it almost looked messy. the dressing table on the corner had lipsticks, combs, all sorts of make-up and girly stuff all piled up and... a perfume.
it was happening again, images of you flooded his mind and it was like he could almost smell you. oh, your sweet scent had the power to make him hard like nothing else. just by looking at that small bottle, just by imagining your scent, he could feel little shock waves travelling all the way down to his cock, threatening to awaken it.
he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong thinking about a much younger girl like that. and it was even worse considering that you were the daughter of the man that provided him shelter in such difficult times. it felt ungrateful.
when he saw you for the first time, he didn't think much of you. he was actually careful, treating you like the stranger you were. and even when time passed, he never really got close to you. now and then you tried to share a word, even if just a little bit, but it seemed useless since he would reject all your attempted approaches. he didn't hate you like he tried to after acknowledging his disgusting desires for you, but he just couldn't allow himself to interact with a girl that made him sick to his stomach for all the wrong reasons.
your sweetness was almost annoying. the entire world had gone to shit, for goodness sake! dead bodies walking around and eating all the people they could find. how could you act so clueless all the time? daryl even wondered if you had ever seen a walker before, if you knew what was really happening out there. after all, it was very obvious that you were a daddy's girl, always protected under your father's wing.
but strangely enough, acknowledging that only made him protective towards you. he was always somewhat watching, always around you making sure you were safe and he barely knew why, he just felt like he should.
so he didn't stop himself from reaching over to your small perfume bottle. the design was very simple, no labels to be seen, time had probably faded it away. the cap was baby pink and heart shaped, and when he removed it, he immediately brought the bottle to his nose, giving it a gentle sniff.
fuck.
now, he was 100% sure that was your room. the fragrance was the same one that filled his nose and made him drunk in you everytime you walked by. he wondered if that was the scent he would feel if he ever hugged you, burying his face into your chest.
in that moment, he couldn't think about anything else, not rick, not carol, not his chores, not surviving, not even sophia. you were everything that he had in his fucked up mind.
he wouldn't feel so fucking guilty if his thoughts were only about your innocence and sweetness, but they were also dirty as fuck. countless were the times when daryl imagined groping you, running his hands all over your delicate body, feeling every texture, squeezing every junk and listening close to your every little whimper. he would pull your hair, gently at first, just to get it off your face and neck so he could pamper them with little wet kisses, gently scratching his teeth along them. he imagined he'd have to keep you on your feet himself, since you'd struggle to because of how weak your knees would get at all the sensations he would provide you and...
wait, no.
what was he thinking? was he out his fucking mind? he needed to stop those absolutely disgusting thoughts right away. he couldn't keep having those thoughts about you, not when you're out taking care of such important business with the others. he put the perfume bottle back on the dressing table, determined to let all that go. he knew he couldn't just let himself get so distracted like that over something so mundane and unimportant as his own sexual desires but then...
...he spotted a basket filled with clothes when he turned around to leave. his mind immediately started to rush all over again, and for the 100th time that day, he turned careless. he slowly approached it. shorts, tops, pants and so on could be seen at the top of the pile.
in that moment, he had totally forgot why he had entered that bedroom or even left his bed in the first place. he couldn't even remember the existence of his crossbow or his duties.
and then... he gets an idea. he starts going through the pile of dirty clothes and in no time, he finds your panties. they were white with a pink ribbon on the front, a clear reminder of your innocence. for a moment, he just looks at it, contemplating the possibilities. then, he remembers seeing you in it when you bended over to pick some off the floor the day before. he remembers catching a glimpse of it under your yellow sundress when you went to change his bandage.
that meant that those panties had been freshly worn.
if just your perfume ignited such vile desires in him, he couldn't even imagine what your natural scent could do to him. and he was oh so curious to find out. he still felt guilty, but that man had been sex deprived for so fucking long, he didn't even masturbate very often. he knew damn well he was about to commit a big mistake, maybe even starting something he was sure he couldn't finish, but he finally made up his mind.
he flips the small piece of cloth over, eyeing the soft-looking lining of the panties. he gulps, feeling his mouth water right away. god, what was he doing? what was right, what was wrong wasn't even important to him anymore. he just wanted to embrace his sickness.
there was a small stain on the lining, probably from you wearing it. just that sight alone was enough to get him off, and once again, he found himself having to face that tingling sensation inside his pants. he knew damn well what that meant and what was about to happen. but honestly, he couldn't give a single fuck anymore.
in one quick motion, he brought the fabric to his face, giving a long sniff while he rolled his eyes to the back of his head. that fucking scent of yours got him drunk the moment it filled his nostrils. so intense, so feminine and raw, daryl couldn't remember the last time he felt that type of pleasure, or if he had even felt anything like it before.
it made him needy like a horny teenager. he felt himself going back to puberty when all he could think about was jacking off day and night. and it was all your fucking fault.
daryl palmed himself through his denim pants, never taking your panties off his face not even for one second. the natural scent of your cunt was more than successful to make him hard as a rock, the sensation of being in his pants started to get uncomfortable as his dick grew bigger and bigger.
just palming himself wasn't enough.
he slowly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, inserting one of his hand in his briefs to catch his hard cock in it, freeing it for the first time in a while. his angry-red tip was literally pulsating while a clear and sticky liquid dropped down his length.
he wasn't able to hold a small grunt as he wrapped his calloused hand around his cock, the rough sensation of his fingers causing him to feel a jolt of pleasure so fucking delicious and guilty at the same time. the archer brought his hand to his mouth, catching some of his saliva to use as lube.
oh, how he wished you were there. he'd make sure you'd get his cock nice and wet with your spit so you could rub it up and down. and then, without warnings, he'd just shove it down your throat, forcing you to prove how much of a good girl you could be just for him.
and just for him. he wanted you all for his own. daryl never really liked to share, specially when it came to a girl like you, so princess like, so adorable looking. your plump lips looked so fucking perfect, and they would look even more wrapped around his big cock.
knowing how fragile you were, he knew you would definitely choke and gag on him, struggling to fit all of him in your mouth. he would whisper sweet encouragement words to you like “tha's it, tha's ma good girl”. he imagined how he would hold your head in place and keep a hand on your throat so he could feel his cock while he aggressively pumped it in and out, making you drool all over him. “just like tha', yeah, show daddy how fuckin' good ya are fer him”.
in his imagination, you would look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, with a mix of uncertainty and desire to make him proud. “am i doing this right, daddy?” he could almost hear your voice saying it whenever you would take him off his mouth to catch your breath for a moment, never disconnecting your small hand from his thick length.
he started pumping faster, squelching sounds were all that could be heard in that silent room, a proof of his degeneracy. the grunts and stifled moans were only getting harder and harder to hold back. he was sticking those panties to his face and sniffing on them like his life depended on it, like he was a desperate virgin.
a virgin. he wondered if you were one. you sure looked like it, your dad never let you out of sight for long enough for you to try something like that, he supposed from what he knew about your relationship. he imagined how would it feel like to be the one to pop your cherry for the first time.
oh, he would teach you so many things, everything he knows. he would guide you through it all along, teaching you where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick. he would make your virgin little cunny cum so many times it would get all puffy and red. he even wondered if he could make you squirt, stuffing you with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot over and over again until you were a quivering mess, squirting all over his skull tattoo. and yes, he would make you lick his fingers clean, your sweet little tongue dragging across them, and then, he would kneel down in front of you, not wanting to waste a single drop of your sweet release, attacking your sensitive clit and slit with his lips and tongue.
fuck, fuck, fuck.
he was so fucking eager to taste your slick, to revel in your salty taste. he imagined how fucking good the smell he was getting from your panties was from the actual source. he would lick it all, your lips, your slit, even your ass, but he would give special attention to your little clit, flicking his tongue on it, making it cum again just for him. he would never grow tired of it.
and when he felt you were finally ready for him, he would bend you over just like you used to do so absentmindedly. he would be gentle at first, but knowing himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back for too long before absolutely railing the shit out of you, making you cry out and scream his name in pleasure and pain.
and when he flipped you over on your back, he would be able to see the bulge on your lower belly caused by his big cock inside you. just by imagining that he felt himself getting close to the edge. he would press his hand on it, making the little room inside your pussy even tighter. fuck, he imagined the sweet sounds you would make just for him.
all those dirty thoughts and your sweet scent from your panties were more than enough to make shivers run down his spine and his whole body tremble. he kept his eyes shut tight as he licked a stripe on the lining of your panties, trying to get some of your delicious taste. meanwhile, he hadn't stopped his hands not even for a second, harshly rubbing his cock up and down until it was too much.
in a strangled moan, his cock started shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum onto the floor, the dressing table and pretty much anything that was around. he couldn't remember the last time he had such an intense orgasm, the sensation making his mind completely empty except for your image.
his movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. he sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. he opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.
then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...
you. standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.
“u-uncle daryl?”
[PART TWO]
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a/n: i know, i'm disgusting. i'm sorry. (just a quick reminder, english isn't my first language, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing lmao, and tysm if you read it this far)
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eternally-racing · 2 months
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not private, not secret | oscar piastri
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wc: <1k (short n sweet 😌)
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
genre: fluff
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
summary: you and oscar have kept your relationship secret for this long, but oscar can't help but celebrate with you for his very first formula 1 win.
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You were well accustomed to being a shadow in the McLaren garage. It’s the way you and Oscar had decided you liked it best.
There was no pressure from the media, no mean comments on social media, and the less prying eyes into your relationship, the better. Only a select few people on the team knew that you were Oscar’s girlfriend, the rest easily bought up the lie that you were the daughter of a very rich investor in the team who wanted to be at every race. It usually wasn’t that hard to keep quiet, but today was a big day and you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest at every turn. For the first time in his Formula 1 career your boyfriend was leading the race, and with only a few more laps to go you were praying that today would be the day that his dream came true. As you looked to the pit wall you could see Andrea’s foot nervously twitching against the foot rest of his chair, he felt it too. This would easily be the biggest moment of Oscar’s career if it comes true, and there are only a few more laps to go. 
It’s a moment you never want to forget as the checkered flag comes out for Oscar’s car. You can’t stop the tears leaking out from your eyes as you hear the jubilation on his voice through the radio. This is a moment that both of you imagined for so long, but the reality of the situation surpassed all of your expectations. It’s a full celebration with the team as everyone is thoroughly overjoyed. You’re swept up with thinking about Oscar that you don’t even notice the other papaya car cross the line after Oscar. It’s a 1-2 finish, there’s not much more a team could ever wish for in a race. McLaren hasn’t felt joy like this in years. There’s a full sea of papaya out in front of the podium to greet the race winner, and you’re not sure where you fit into things - you blend in easily with the crowd while simultaneously being swept up in it. You’ve made a couple of friends in the garage and stick closely to them as the party already seems to be beginning on the paddock. 
You’ve never seen Oscar like this before - he takes a minute in the car before getting out (you can only assume he was wiping his tears of joy, even if he is too stubborn to admit it). You have your phone out taking a couple of pictures yourself - you know that there’s 1000s of cameras around that are also pointed at your boyfriend, but you want to remember what it feels like to see this moment through your eyes. 
After hugging his engineer and the rest of the team members, you can see Oscar’s gaze start to wander around the paddock, and it’s only once he changes directions do you figure out that he’s looking for you. There’s cameras flashing and the live TV feed clearly following over his shoulder, but your eyes are only locked on each other as Oscar reaches out for you. He stays in your arms for long enough that people can probably get the hint that you’re someone special.
“I really couldn’t have done this without you love, thank you” Oscar says with tears pooling in his eyes. This is his “I made it moment”, and he wants nothing more than to share it with you. There’s so many words that you want to say, but you find yourself speechless as you stare into Oscar’s eyes. Instead, you go with the action that you’ve dreamt of doing ever since you started dating. It’s your first helmet kiss of what will be many more to follow. Oscar warned you that it wouldn’t taste very good, especially given the dusty race conditions of the day, but it brings such joy to your heart to be able to celebrate with him.
When Oscar’s up on the podium he points to you as he lifts the trophy up to the cheers of the crowd, mouthing an “I love you” to you down below that you know will make the rounds on social media. But you don’t care one bit about that anymore. People could throw all the hate in the world your way, but there was nothing like the pride of celebrating your boyfriend’s first f1 win.
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author's note: was in a bit of a writing slump working on pt.2s for a lot of my other fics so i just wanted to write something short and sweet! hope u all enjoyed it :) My ask box is still open as always if you have any requests. Until next time! - Em <3
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greynatomy · 2 months
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soft launch
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ona batlle x reader
had this in the drafts for so long that i forgot abt it. then remembered i only wrote it cause i want ona to myself
prequel here
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“Ona Batlle and Lucy Bronze share an embrace after Spain’s World Cup Win”
“Lucy Bronze and Keira Walsh broke up”
“Wonze is no more”
“Luna - Lucy Bronze and Ona Batlle ship name”
“i just saw lucy and ona walking around barcelona by themselves”
“keira posted a picture with narla. they’re still together”
“Wait, wait. Look at this one. Ona Batlle seen going home with Lucy Bronze after practice. Guess it’s illegal to be in Lucy’s car.”
“Mi mundo, why are you still reading those?” Ona asks, setting a cup of tea in front of where you sat on the kitchen table.
“It’s just so funny. Me and Keira were in the backseat too.”
“I called gunshots.” She shrugged.
“Shotgun, my love.”
“It is the same.”
“Sure.” You stand up from your seat, Ona sliding in to sit, you finding your place on her lap. A familiar action.
“We should tell people now, I think. Slowly?”
“Yes! A soft launch!”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Like, we don’t hide our relationship but we don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“I like that.”
Ona and Lucy are at a meet and greet with some Barcelona fans. One fan, Andrea, stepped up to the microphone.
“Hi.”
“Hello. What’s your name?”
“Andrea.”
“Hi, Andrea. What’s your question?”
“Well, I don’t know if you’ve both are aware, but there’s been a lot of rumors and speculations on the internet.”
“Oh? About what?” Lucy asks with a smirk.
“Luna or Wonze.”
The crowd cheers, also wanting to know all the information.
“Okay, okay.” Ona speaks up this time, not able to stop the smile on her face. “Me and Lucy, we are very close. Only because we don’t really have a choice.”
“Yeah, if we did, I’d stay far away from Ona. Nah, I’m kidding. I met her back in England on Holiday. Wanted to surprise my sister, but saw someone else.” She points a thumb towards Ona.
“You’re dating her sister.” Someone stated, shocked, making the audience laugh.
“Oh, yeah. They are not shy with letting people know.”
“What about all the car rides and stuff.”
“Y/N is usually in the back with Keira. They love to gossip, most of the time making fun on all the edits.”
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liked by lucybronze, keirawalsh and 57,638 others
ona.batlle soft launch take too long
view all comments
lucybronze those hands are a bit too low for my liking
↳ keirawalsh leave them alone
↳ yourinstagram yeah! leave me alone
↳ keirawalsh @/yourinstagram don’t push her buttons
yourinstagram just couldn’t help yourself huh?
↳ ona.batlle want to show you off
↳ user1 omg that was so cute
↳ user2 i need me an ona
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lecsainz · 7 months
Text
SUNSET
pairings: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader
request: Hello bae! I absolutely adore your writing, could you maybe write something about charles being turned on by your sundress and maybe it leads to smut? Thank you!!🩷
authors note: [ something cool again ]
warnings: (+18) smut, minors dni!
☆. . . masterlist !
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Y/N loved summers, especially when her boyfriend was on a break from Formula 1. It was one of the rare times in the year when they spent 24/7 together for weeks. She cherished those moments.
Charles had asked Y/N to get ready because he wanted to show her a new place in Monaco, one he had discovered while running with Andrea. Y/N walked into the living room, where Charles was standing, his concentration solely focused on his iPhone with the cracked back.
"Don't you think it's time to replace that phone?" she asked playfully.
"Oh my God!" Charles muttered under his breath, his attention suddenly torn away from his phone as he saw Y/N in a summer dress that hugged every curve of her body.
"Enjoying the view?" she asked, a playful smile on her lips. She took a spin, showing off the dress to him.
Continues with Charles being flustered by her appearance, but Y/N's tone was light-hearted and teasing. She knew exactly how to play him.
"Maybe a little too much," Charles replied, his voice slightly strained as he tore his gaze away from her. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "You look incredible."
Y/N chuckled, enjoying the effect she had on him. "Well, if you can manage to tear your eyes away from your phone for a few minutes, maybe I can show you the dress properly."
Charles finally looked up, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Right, sorry. You just... caught me off guard."
Y/N walked over to him, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of his jaw. "You know, I've missed having you all to myself like this."
He nodded, his eyes softening as he gazed at her. "Me too. It's been way too long."
Without thinking, Charles pulled her into his lap, his arms encircling her waist. Y/N laughed, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"We should probably get going," she said, her voice a mix of reluctance and amusement.
Charles rested his forehead against hers, his warm breath fanning over her lips. "You're right, we should," he agreed, his tone a little too casual.
Y/N chuckled, realizing where he was heading. "Don't even think about it, Leclerc. We have plans, remember?"
A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he grinned. Instead of getting up, he gently shifted her weight, lowering her onto the couch and hovering above her.
"Plans can wait," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers in a feather-light kiss.
She tried to suppress a laugh, her hands resting against his chest. "Charles, we can't just stay here all day."
He nuzzled her neck, his lips pressing soft kisses along her skin. "Who said anything about all day? Maybe just until sunset."
Y/N let out a soft sigh, her resistance fading as he continued to trail kisses across her collarbone. "You're impossible."
Charles looked up, his eyes locking onto hers with a playful spark. "But you love me."
She rolled her eyes, though her smile was undeniable. "Fine, we can stay here for a little while."
"Good," he murmured, his lips finding hers again, this time with more urgency.
As they continued to kiss, the world outside their apartment seemed to disappear, leaving only the sensation of his touch and the sound of their breaths mingling in the air.
Charles's hands moved along the curves of her body, his touch igniting a fire within her. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as their kisses deepened, a silent understanding passing between them.
The soft cushions of the sofa seemed to mold around them, offering both comfort and support as their bodies pressed closer together. His fingers traced the edges of her sundress, his touch sending shivers down her spine.
Breaking the kiss, Charles's lips found the sensitive skin of her neck, trailing a path of heated kisses along her collarbone. Y/N's breath hitched, her nails lightly grazing his back as a quiet moan escaped her lips.
"Charles," she whispered, her voice a mixture of need and desire. His name on her lips only fueled his hunger, and he responded by deepening his kisses, his lips now exploring the contours of her chest.
As their passions grew, Charles's urgency became more apparent. His fingers deftly worked at the fabric of her sundress, a silent plea for permission in his eyes. Y/N met his gaze, her own desire mirrored in her eyes. With a nod, she gave him the consent he sought.
The fabric of her dress yielded to his touch, the sound of tearing fabric mingling with their heavy breaths. Charles's lips moved lower, his kisses leaving a trail of fire along her skin. Each touch, each caress, sent shivers of pleasure through her body.
Their bodies shifted, and Charles positioned himself between her legs, his eyes locked onto hers as he continued his exploration. His fingers traced maddening patterns along her inner thighs, making her gasp with anticipation.
"Oh lord," she moaned, her fingers threading through his hair. Her body arched against his touch, aching for more.
He responded by pressing a searing kiss against her most sensitive spot, eliciting a cry of pleasure from her lips. Charles's movements were skilled, his touch driving her closer to the edge.
Y/N's fingers tightened in his hair, her moans growing louder as waves of ecstasy washed over her. Charles's name was a mantra on her lips, a prayer and a plea all at once.
And as they reached the pinnacle of their desire, their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a symphony of pleasure and need. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them entangled in a moment of pure intimacy.
Afterward, as they lay entwined on the sofa, their breathing slowly returning to normal, Charles pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Y/N smiled, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest as they basked in the aftermath of their intense encounter.
Charles pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against Y/N's. "See? Sunset," he whispered, a triumphant grin on his lips.
Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"
He shrugged, his gaze tender as he looked at her. "I just know what I want, and right now, it's you."
Y/N chuckled softly, nuzzling against him. "You certainly have a way with persuasion."
He grinned, his arms wrapped around her. "Well, I believe actions speak louder than words."
With a contented sigh, Y/N nodded, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "I can't argue with that."
With a contented smile, Y/N let herself be pulled into another kiss, the world outside their apartment fading away as they enjoyed the simple pleasure of being together.
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norrisleclercf1 · 1 month
Note
Hey! Hope you are doing well! For norstappen Lando has not been feeling well (he did not tell anyone) and it shows during a race, during interviews and such they mention how lando had not done well and when max sees the videos he tried to comfort lando :(
A/N: Lando would 100% do this but I think he'd tell reader and make sure she wouldn't tell anymore
"Lando, maybe you should rest this race." You whisper, seeing the worn-down expression, his eyes sunken and a little puffy and lips a little pursed as he was having trouble breath through his nose. "I can't, we've been doing so well, need to be there for the team." Lando grumbles, putting his head between his legs.
You make a noise of disagreement and bite your thumb, wanting to go get your other boyfriend Max, knowing one look at Lando and Max would storm right up to Zak and Andrea and tell them Lando will not drive. He wouldn't say, isn't, it's will not drive, and he would not take no for an answer.
"You aren't telling Max; I know what you're thinking. Don't do that to me," Lando wheezes before throwing himself into a fit of coughs. "Lando, please you're sick, don't drive." You beg through the phone, you wish you were there or else he wouldn't be driving. "I'm driving Y/n, I need too. I'll be fine, take some non-drowsy cold medication, eat something and jump in the car." He groans, setting down the phone and blowing his nose.
"You're so stubborn, just tell Max, promise me?" You ask, Lando groans and picks up the phone, "Okay, I'll tell him." You feel some relief hearing that as you know Max would be up in arms at his boyfriend being sick.
"Alright, I love you baby, please get some rest." Lando nods and kisses his hand and waves at you as he ends teh FaceTime and groans loudly wanting to just curl up into a ball and die. Lando hasn't felt this bad since Brazil '22 where he had food poison during his birthday.
Banging on his door has him sitting up and runs over and applies some concealer to give him some hint of color rather then looking pale. "Coming!" He yells and curses, sounding so congested and moves blowing his nose and takes a tentative sniff being able to feel some air pass his nose and he sighs. "Good enough,"
----------------------
"Lando? Everything okay?" Will asks through the coms as Lando curses, being passed by the Haas and dropping to P16. "Yes, just having trouble," Lando turns off his radio and tries hard to keep his eyes open, fighting with everything in him to finish this hell of a race.
To make it worse, they were in the desert and Lando was sweating like crazy. He couldn't figure out if it was from the heat or the fever coursing through his body. The rest of the race passes in a blur before Lando is pulling in a horrible P19.
Lando could feel everyone staring at him, his team rushing to his side as Lando pulls himself up and takes a second to get the world to stop spinning. "Lando? Are you okay?" One of the mechanics asks, but Lando waves him off and walks away, heading to his media manager.
Pulling off his stuff he drops down on a chair and places his head between his knees. "Lando? Lando?" Honestly Lando doesn't remember much after that.
------------------------------
"Max! Congratulations on winning the GP, we know you're not the biggest fan of media so we'll be quick. We know that you are having a fabulous race and Red Bull couldn't be prouder, so how does that feel?" Max smiles, it's always the same questions but really, he just wanted to know where Lando went.
Lando started P3, but he didn't see him when they pulled up to the podiums, instead Charles and Lewis were on the podium and Max still couldn't get anyone to tell him where Lando was.
"Um, yeah it was a lovely race, Red Bull is happy with where we are and to continue this season as strong as we started, and we will continue to do that. But I was really hoping for a fight with the McLaren of Lando but didn't get one. Where did he finish?" Max was smooth with it, to the other drivers they would've rolled their eyes and made fun of him for checking up on his boyfriend.
"Oh, Lando finished P19, something seemed wrong, even in his interviews," The person points over to a screen and Max freezes seeing how tired and defeated Lando looked. "Max?" Max whips his head around and smiles, acting like he wasn't internally panicking. "Sorry, I've got to go, thank you so much," Max waves and walks off, practically storming through the paddock and reaching McLaren not caring for the stares from the crew as he makes his way to Lando's driver room.
Shoving the door open he sees Jon placing a warmth cloth over Lando's nose and a cold one on his boyfriends forehead. "Max," Max just gives Jon and look and the older man nods his head and walks out leaving Max alone with Lando.
"You're sick," Max points out, which elicits a loud groan from Lando who doesn't even have the strength to talk. "Lando, you should've told me." Max whispers and sits down on the floor so he was eye level with Lando. Lando doesn't do anything but holds his hand out which Max happily takes. Raising his hand, he kisses Lando fingers and moves closer to where Lando puts his other hand in Max's hair.
"You're sick baby, you shouldn't have raced." Max begs and lies his head on Lando's stomach. "Needed too, race, shouldn't have. Did horrible." Lando sniffles, and Max coos, moving closer and pulls Lando into his arms. "It's okay, let's just focus on getting you better yeah?" Max asks, and Lando nods curling more into Max and sighs. "Y/n is going to be mad," He whispers which makes Max snort.
"Don't worry, I won't tell her you lied to me," Lando smiles and hides his face in Max's neck.
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tastesousweet · 1 month
Text
⭒ the girl with the tattoo (vii) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6
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matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader
summary : a little weed sure eases theses two up.
warnings : implications of sex & use of weed
mickey speaks : sorry this took a while to get out friends, hope u love it. also lowkey self inserting w the hawaii trip :P
THIS IS PART SEVEN GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST!!!
“OH, he’s obsessed!” andrea exclaims across the table, a wide smile smothered over her face.
it didn’t take long for asha to call you and begin debriefing her month-long europe trip to you, only for you to cut her short (because matt began knocking on the door, complaining about how long you’d taken to piss) and ask her to finish her tell-all over lunch. she of course agreed and texted you the location of her favorite ramen place along with: “tell your roomie andrea that she can come with i wanna see u bothhhh!”
she’s spent the last half hour detailing the total princess treatment she’d experienced from a guy she met at her stop in london. “yeah, too bad i won’t see him again,” she pouts.
“you didn’t get his phone number that entire time?” you ask, fiddling with the chopsticks in your hand.
“oh of course i did, i just won’t be using it,” asha laughs and tucks a piece of her dark curled hair behind her ear. “it was nice while it lasted but i’m definitely not trying to deal with the hassle that comes with dating anyone right now,” she shrugs.
“you’re so bad!” andrea shakes her head and giggles, "but you know what, i get it."
asha hides her laugh by guiding noodles towards her mouth.
your phone buzzes softly against the counter and lights up, showing off a new text message from your mom, but more importantly your lock screen wallpaper displaying a sleepy figaro on your chest.
asha squeals through her chews as you pick up your phone to decide whether you’ll confront or procrastinate the text message (that will most likely sour your mood). andrea’s eyes widen at the girl as asha finishes up and starts to explain, “who’s cat is that?!” her acrylic nail taps against the table.
“oh, it’s ours,” you peer over your phone, deciding you’d rather not answer your mom’s text (she's asking how degree-related job searching has been, again).
“what?!”
“oh yes, he's my babyyy,” andrea coos while unlocking her phone to show off the many photos, “his name is figaro-.”
asha swipes through the phone in awe, “and when the fuck did this happen?”
“like a few weeks ago, i wanna say…” you turn to look at andrea while trying to remember.
“i’m coming over way more now. oh my god.” she gushes over the many photos of the playful black kitten before returning andrea’s phone.
“please do, it felt like you were gone for so long.” you whine out the beg before taking another sip of the warm broth.
asha sighs (in a way that causes her lips to flutter a little), “i know, i miss hanging out with my friends!”
“and we miss you! your ass is always traveling somewhere we have to soak up all your LA time while we can,” you joke.
the two laugh along with you, “i think i’ll be here for a while…not until like, my birthday.” asha thinks through her schedule and her mouth widens at the thought of her birthday, “oh my god! i forgot to tell you- mostly because it’s kinda far out? so, the past four years i’ve hosted trips for my birthday in late november... and i want you two to come this year!”
your eyes widen in excitement and your mouth is full of noodles, keeping you from letting out the loud 'yes' you wanted to. so andrea answers for the both of you, “well of course, we’ll come!”
asha’s face can’t possibly be stretched further with happiness as she celebrates, “yay, this’ll be so fun! you’ll get to meet some of my girlfriends and f’course the boys will be there so you’ll know a few people already!”
“and where are we going?” you ask with big, curious eyes.
“hawaii!"
౨ৎ
a distinct berry shade drips over the room in full swoops as the leaving sun peeks through matt's curtains ever so gently. your lips are now almost the same shade of the woven fabric, especially after enduring matt's undying and bitter kisses.
you hear him breathe a soft laugh, finding your body's limp, laid-out position to be straight out of an erotic femme painting: right leg and arm stretched above and below you, left arm above your waist to cradle your tits, and left leg bent and falling over the opposing leg.
you turn your head when you recognize his return, whispering, "hey."
matt’s bed dips accordingly when he lowers himself next to you, fixated on your still-exposed silhouette that hosts a few deep hickeys (he’s recently taken a liking to giving you them, his ego gains a small ignition at the thought of him placing them only where he gets to see), rather than your observant eyes.
he finds one he’d kissed into the skin under your printed hello kitty, leaning closer to lick and suckle at it more. you squirm and push his head away with a whine of his name.
he chuckles and moves his hair from his face, “put some fuckin’ clothes on then.” he lays your sweatshirt and panties, he gathered on his way back to you, against your chest.
you lift yourself easily, though a sleepy yawn still makes its way to you as you fit into the hoodie. matt shifts himself to slouch against his headboard. you finish your redressing before moving yourself higher on his bed as well.
matt thinks your phone screen is severely bright and headache-inducing but he doesn't complain as he normally would, instead he's more focused on balancing his joint-rolling necessities atop his wife beater clad torso.
you pay no attention to him as you exchange texts with remi:
REMI - 6:43 PM
OMFG
REMI
this guy im friends w thinks i should set you up on a blind date with a guy he knows :D
REMI
HE JUST SHOWED ME A PIC AND ... fuck
REMI
PLS SAY YOULL DO IT
REMI
u deserve a nice date night
Y/N - 8:36 PM
hi WHATTT
Y/N
idk rem😭😭
REMI
ABOUT TIME U RESPONDED HELLO
REMI
rlly you dont wanna??
Y/N
ill have to think about it
you sigh while turning off your phone, moving your body to better face matt, who's hands work to add the potent plant into his detailed silver grinder. there's obviously no need for you to stay in his bed or hang around for any longer, but as of late you both aren't necessarily itching to kick the other out as soon as clothes are back on.
"i wanna learn," you declare as you sit up more, looking down at his slouched figure.
"to roll?" he asks pausing his smooth routine and licking over his lips expectantly.
"yeah," you move your hoodie’s long sleeve cuffs away from the lower half of your palm, showing him your dedication and anticipation.
matt smirks and continues to zip the plastic bag once more, shaking his head.
"what? why not, matt?" you pout.
“because i’m already good at it,” he shrugs, “you can smoke with me but you don’t have to be the one to roll.”
“‘kay, whatever. i’ll just get someone else to teach me then, like chris or lucas or somethin’” stretching as you collapse back onto his bed and bury your face in the crook of your arm. when matt does nothing to pull you out of your dramatic fit, you decide to mess with him further, grabbing his phone from its place near his thigh and rolling over so that you lie on the plush of your stomach.
you pretend to type (actually just tapping against his uncharacteristically soft lockscreen, displaying a vintage looking photo of a woman you’d only assume to be his mother) then putting the phone up to your ear, mimicking the ring with a burring noise in your throat. “hey lucas! yeah it's me, matt never gave me your number! i know. that is really selfish and unfair!” you nod along while staring at matt who thinks you look and sound so stupid that it’s kind of cute.
you twirl your hair and bite your lip, really getting into character, “you're right, he is the worst. he won’t even let me roll up with him! but that’s fine, i think i may just need someone more skilled and sexy like you to hel-”
matt taps your barely covered ass harder than he intends to, shocking you in the best way. “alright, stop fuckin’ around and pay attention ‘cause i’m not repeating myself,” he softly demands, gesturing you to sit up with his fingers.
"ow!" you rub at the spot and roll your eyes in faux irritation, fighting the urge to smile now that you've successfully recaptured matt's attention and can still feel the heat of his hand on your ass. you try to give yourself grace in moments like this but you can't help but reflect and feel a bit pathetic when having a crush on someone like matt.
matt, who would never take a relationship further than casual sex and unserious after-sex smoke sessions, especially not with you.
"shh. come here, bruh" he hushes you and you obey, shifting to sit next to him, reflecting his bent position. "'kay," he hands you the grinder, mumbling, "take a look," as he grabs one of the natural hemp rolling papers and places the packaging on his nightstand.
you open the silver lid gently, eyes widening slightly and impressed with the dollops of finely crushed weed laying in the container. "how much do you use?"
"all of it," your head practically snaps over to look at him and he sighs, "y/n, it's like half a gram."
you fight the urge to dip your index finger in the crowd of weed and move it around, "still looks like kind of a lot."
"well, it's not," he shakes his head and adjusts his shoulders. "now you're gonna take some in your fingers and place it in this paper," he taps your distracted arm with his hand to bring your attention to the rolling paper he has curled slightly around his thumb. as you begin to take a hold of some of the substance he warns, "and don't do too much at once- i don't need you spillin' any on us or my bed."
"you're such a diva," you huff and softly sprinkle the weed into the wrapper he's holding.
once it's full enough matt shows you how his fingers guide the paper and fold it into its proper joint shape. he moves his hand towards your mouth, "now you gotta lick and seal it." you inch closer, hesitantly peeking your tongue out just a little to lick at the small flap. "okay, you need more than that baby-ass lick. but don't over-do the spit 'cause that'll fuck it up too," he eyes your mouth when you expose more of your tongue, successfully sealing the joint (with matt's guidance).
he finishes off the end of the joint before presenting it to you, "voilà," matt fiddles with the joint in front of your face before you boldly grab it from his hands.
you immediately encourage him with a wave of your fingers, "gimme that lighter, please."
he's slightly impressed with your sudden confidence and adjusts himself (removing the remaining items from his lower stomach, including the lighter you ask for) and reaches over to light it for you.
matt's lip falls between his teeth due to natural anticipation. the sharp, orange hue sparks to life and you gain a shyness as he approaches the joint in your mouth with it. suddenly your fingers take it away from your mouth as you whisper, "wait, matt."
matt dramatically throws his arm down, "yeah?"
"i don't actually know how to do this," a smile spreads across your face when you see matt's mouth slightly ajar and eyes disengaged.
"seriously? you started talkin' like you've at least smoked a couple times."
you hold a laugh in, "well like, i wanna try it. you just have to tell me what to do..."
"inhale the shit," matt gestures his hands, "hold in your lungs, blow it out. it's simple as fuck," he points to your hand holding the joint, "let's see it."
you deadpan, "you're so unhelpful," you shake your head and place it back in your mouth, "just light me up."
he rolls his eyes as his hand moves back up to you, you lean into the flame and immediately inhale as it comes to life in your mouth.
matt just smirks from next to you, amused at your attempt. you focus on holding it in your lungs and close your eyes as you exhale. the smoke exits smoothly and surrounds your head, when you open your eyes you immediately look over to matt who laughs when he sees a cough brewing in your lungs. you push his shoulder just as you begin a small coughing fit.
he goes to grab the joint from your hand but you raise it away, finishing your cough and putting it back into your mouth to taste the odd plant flavor again.
matt's laugh is still there just died down, "who the fuck are you?! 'just light me up' and then here you go actin' like you own shit." he points a finger at you with his eyes big and playful.
you smirk sarcastically, and your eyes crinkle in the softest way, when you lean closer to him in response, blowing smoke in his face.
౨ৎ
"so why're nick and chris staying so late at the warehouse?" you ask and play with the strings of your hoodie.
matt draws lines across your inner thigh with his fingers, "it's nick's month to do inventory and chris bought some crazy wall art shit he had to finish setting up-"
"you're not gonna help them?"
"oh yeah sweetheart, i'll actually go there right now and help them out." his eyes are so dewy and red you find yourself excusing his annoying sarcasm and instead wanting to kiss him and his puffy eyelids and his flushed cheeks, especially when you're sat on top of him like this.
"still, they probably wanted you around," you explain.
"why do you care so much about shit that doesn't involve you? i left them and invited you over so you should be happy." his voice eases his delivery to not come across so harshly while his eyes squint a little.
"you're right, s'not really my place to have a take on y'all's dynamic." you shrug and feel as his hands stop running over your thighs and instead squeeze harshly as he looks in your eyes.
"mmm, thank you for telling me i'm right," he smiles and leans forward to give your jaw a kiss with his wet, pink lips, "say it again and i'll be fully hard."
"you're a dog," you laugh as he pulls away. "what'd you do today?" you whisper, ignoring the sensation that comes with him feeling up your lower half.
"guess." he blinks slowly.
"mmm... i don't know. you tattooed some people, fucked me, made fun of me, smoked..." you list off on each of your fingers.
he nods along as you list each, making different facial expressions depending on the task. "those are all definitely things i did.."
"did you eat?"
"i mean, yeah...ish." he rubs his eyes and his mouth begins to curve slightly, knowing your next sentiment well enough he could say it with you.
as if on queue, you prompt him with a question that tends to come up quite often when the two of you finish fucking, "can we get food?"
౨ৎ
the doorbell of matt's shared townhome rings through the house as the two of you giddily stand near the door, "3, 2, 1.." you count through giggles before opening the door and facing the young man dressed head to toe in papa johns gear.
"oh. my. god!" you exclaim in a ridiculous country accent, "baby come here, they sent a man to sell us insurance or somethin'!" you call out and pinch your eyebrows.
before the man can get a word in matt comes into frame, cowboy hat in tow and his mocking accent deeper yet identical to your own, "now who 'den sent you here to harass my woman? huh?" he holds a tooth pick in his mouth and squints his eyes. "and how much would i owe to have whatever you got in them boxes, son?" he points and you try not to laugh from behind him.
"uh, it's just a pizza delivery that was ordered to this address, sir..." he looks around, checking the numbers displayed next to the door once more.
you peek your head back in, "you know what, charles, it was probably little john, you know he's always orderin' that amy-zun and what not from that tablet!"
"mmm..." matt pretends to think and not laugh as he holds onto a fake belt around his black sweatpants, "my lady's right," he cracks a smile, "you know how the kids get," he tuts and gestures to the man again while pulling out his wallet, "i owe you?"
"only $12.57."
"right," matt grabs a few bills and whistles, "wife, come grab this box for little john would you?" he hands the money over as you reach for the pizza box, "keep the change, boy." he tilts his hat in dismissal and as soon as the door is shut matt's falling to the floor with laughter as you laugh and place the pizza box down, screaming about how close you are to pissing yourself.
౨ৎ
"asha told me about her birthday trip in november," you say, licking your lips of excess pizza sauce.
matt nods and swallows to respond while wiping his mouth, "yeah she does that shit every year."
you adjust yourself on the bed and grab another slice of the cheese pizza in between you two. "it sounds fun, i'm excited," you say before taking a bite.
"yeah, it's usually fun. usually." he laughs.
"meaning?"
"last year in mexico nick almost fist fought asha's boyfriend because he was bein' shitty to her on her birthday. it was a fuckin' brawl everyday of that trip, i swear."
"damn."
"yeah. but don't trip, asha's not letting anything ruin her birthday this time, she loves herself too much to do that." he rolls his eyes in endearment towards his friend.
"well, how about you? your birthday's next weekend.."
matt shakes his head and looks to the side for a moment, "we always struggle to figure out what we're doing for our birthday. the three of us wanna spend that time together but chris wants a party, nick wants a small get together with games, and i'd want a lowkey dinner or something."
"you could always do all of the ideas but on different days."
"that drags it too much, we'll most likely host a party like we did last year, chris will probably nag us enough to make us give up." matt shrugs and takes a bite of his slice.
"well, i'll be at whatever you decide to do," you smile.
"oh will you now?" his eyebrows lift for just a moment in humor.
"well duh."
"and who's inviting you? cause it won't be me," he smiles and stuffs his mouth again right as you push his shoulder and laugh off his bad joke.
꩜⋆ ˚。⋆🎱˚
tag list (ily):
@rootbeerworshiper @deadxrx @breeloveschris @saintsturn @honestlybabymiracle @hearts4chris @starrysturniolo @blissfulbellss @aoxash @st7rnioioss @blondiesjailer @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @sturnioloa @thinkingabkinkyshit101 @tcvazq @novasturniolo03 @imaslutforwhitemen @trinity2058 @taking-a-footnote-in-your-life @1horrormoviewhore1 @keira324 @st7rnioioss
@whicked-hazlatwhore @matthewsturnioloswifey @mayhem-72
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