#sorry to use your ask as an excuse to hating i just needed to get this of my chest

[creatingblackcharacters]

"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1

Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.

There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!

Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!

Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.

None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!

Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!

If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.

I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!

My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!

POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!

Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.

That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.

It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.

But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.

My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.

People were HORRIFIC about Louis.

It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.

My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.

POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?

While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.

For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.

But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)

I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.

POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!

As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!

I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!

POINT#5: You are NOT Black!

This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!

For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?

An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!

I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.

Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.

My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.

Conclusion

We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!

And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

#creatingblackcharacters #character design #black characters #black character design #black culture

[fic-heaven]

Enemies to lovers with König and witty reader? I don't know if you also write about him so imma leave this here

Answering two anons at the same time lmao

Say my name

(König x witty! Reader)

🐥 The first time König appeared on my drafts was when I was making my last Reyes x Reader fic and um... I kind of wanted to keep doing lmao so here it is. Sorry for my broken English-

Angst/ SOCIAL ANXIETY/ slight nsfw/ open ending (if you guys want a part two and this short gets some attention)

⚠️ I still picture König as Lee Pace ⚠️

.

They say you transfered from SpecGru to KorTac because you simply wanted a change of airs. But it couldn't be that simple. Why were you so simple?

As antisocial as he seemed to be, König was well aware that a bond between teammates was needed in order to sync and function properly during missions. He wasn't the best at striking up conversations and never intended to improve on this aspect either, often trying to figure people out from the distance, he only approached them if he had questions about their character. Horangi once said it was weird but König frankly didn't care about what was socially accepted or not, he just made the effort to know his team because it was expected of him, and as great as it would be to have friends, he struggled socializing and had given up trying ages ago. König was paid to kill, not to make friends. And as far as his interactions went with his teammates, the only one who gets his game and could be considered his friend is Horangi. But you?

He had tried to investigate you, even going as far as using his position as colonel to gather as much information from your background to understand you without having to make any awkward approach. But nothing he found explained why you changed factions or why you behaved the way you did. You had a normal childhood, went to a good school, graduated being top of your class... Jesus you had a rabbit called Mr. Whiskers, even the deepest info given was borely normal. No trace of trauma or any mental disorder.

König begun studying you like a biologist would to a newfound species and got more and more invested and frustrated the more information he gathered, because he simply couldn't excuse your... Well, your everything.

He approaches you one time during morning drills, looks you up and down as you stretched, ignores the flirty comment you shot his way, because what the fuck is your problem? You don't know him. Then König proceeded to mouth the first thing he ever said to you, one of the main questions he had on his head as to why you would behave so strangely. And it goes like this: "Do you have any mental illness, hm?"

"I might have, yeah."

And you said it so casually. Do you, though? Are you being sarcastic or... God he hates you. Why can't he figure you out!? Why do you smile at him so much? Why do you flirt so much with him? Do you flirt with the others the way you do with him?

That new question made him observe your body language around others and listen carefully to any interaction you had and found nothing but your enchanting witty self. Of course you teased other members, but never so bluntly like the way you flirt with him. The colonel felt weirdly relieved at this. Maybe he liked the attention given? Scratch that, or course not!

One time after a tiring mission in Barcelona, Spain, König approached you with a bottle of water, you thanked him with a wink and he watched you swallow the whole thing before he proceeded to ask you the second question that plagued his mind: "Do you perhaps hide some secret trauma that permanently changed your behaviour, using sarcasm, smirks and jokes to protect your scared inner child in order to not get hurt again?"

"Hmmm... The day I found out my mother was Santa Claus I went bananas, but I wouldn't say it scarred me for life. Do ya want an M&M, colonel?"

He fucking hates you. He hates you. König aggressively snatched a handful of M&M's and stormed away. That night he swore he could hear your laugh echoing inside his head. Why couldn't you leave his fucking mind? What was it with you? Were you doing it on purpose?

_____

You were definitely doing it on purpose.

You have to be patient with König. But he was so hilarious and scary, it thrilled you to watch the two meter tall behemoth of a man walk near you and sneak watchful, calculated glances your way when he thought you weren't looking. If someone dared to ask, you'd easily answer with the honesty everyone knew you posses: You'd fuck König without a thought.

He's so feral in battle, so demanding and intimidating on the comms. His ridiculous voice made him all the more adorable contrasting with his appearance. Oh fuck that. Even his appearance was ridiculous, he looked like the red guy from that creepy show called "Don't hug me, I'm scared" or one of those executioners from the Shrek movie. But he was HOT, with that slutty waist accentuated by his bulky back, those long slender arms that could lift anything on his way, you saw him lift a fucking car a few inches so an injured woman could scape, and as she cried of relief you could feel your pussy crying as well at the sight. And oh his hands... The way he used them, so elegantly but rough, they'd make a beautiful necklace. His voice, as unfitting as it sounded coming from this KorTac monster, made you itch to hear more, his accent was so attractive that it quickly made you addicted to sound of it and your brain pondered on how he'd sound while doing other things. Lucky you, when the stars aligned and you two coincided in the gym you made sure to be close enough to hear the quiet grunts and sighs from the colonel as he trained, to your surprise he never moved away as if he knew what you were doing and thought nothing much of it. Safe to say, you'd gladly eat whatever interaction König graced you with with a speck of salt.

Though, when you begun paying attention to the details (because it was hard to guess his thoughts without seeing his face) You noticed a few things about the colonel that indicated he had a severe case of social anxiety. The way he self isolated, how he forced himself to interact with people resulting in very awkward conversations that led to him coming up as rude to what he got frustrated and scaped the scene, how he loved his job because you were convinced that he thought he was only good at killing. That made you wonder if he had other hobbies... It's funny to imagine a tall, muscly guy like him baking or making origamis.

______

Today you saw the ultimate signal that your big crush wasn't a people's person.

You two were on a meeting with some other KorTac members. König was peeling an apple and had finished it rather quickly as all of you spoke, but he spent ten minutes with the remnants of the fruit slowly browning and drying on his hand, so you decided to test your theory by walking to the near trash can to throw a random paper you crumbled quickly, after a few seconds König abruptly stood up to throw the dried fruit remnant, the tall Austrian glanced your way before he sat again and kept to himself. Okay, so judging by this and how stiff he looks, König doesn't know exactly what to do with his body around people, he needed an excuse to stand up and throw the finished apple so he waited for anyone to use the trash can to go after, BUT he waited a few seconds to stand so he wouldn't look like he was waiting. Must be stressful to be on his shoes. Interesting, but maybe you were overthinking too much, so you decided to do a final test that would definitely tell you if what you thought was right. You didn't want to come to this unless it was really necessary... You'll probably have to apologize later.

You directed all the attention to König by asking a number of things, (obviously work related) that caught the attention of everyone in the room taking the poor colonel by surprise, his cristal blue eyes widened for a minute before he composed himself answering everything you asked with a professional tone until you spotted the tremble on his hands, poor König noticed your attention drift to his hands so he slid them under the table. That's how you knew it. He couldn't handle being the center of attention for prolonged amounts of time. Your poor baby...

You gave him a sympathetic look that again took him by surprise, but by that time König had called the meeting over, gathered his things and walked out before you could approach him.

Damn you and your stupid beautiful voice and worried eyes trying to comfort him discreetly.

Gloved hands fidgeted with the bracelet on his wrist. König remembers the little girl who gifted him said thing. The day him and his team rescued her and some other orphans from a building about to explode, the worried colonel spent a few minutes comforting the little girl until she pulled the orange bracelet from her small SpongeBob backpack, he chuckled at the gesture and had never taken it off since. They even shared some letters from time to time, he held a piece of little Astrid in the form of a cute bracelet and she held a piece of him in the form of sweet spoken letters.

König saw her kind eyes in yours and it squeezed his heart so much he felt suffocated. Why would a teasing little vixen like you have such kind, gorgeous eyes? It was weirdly comforting that someone would look at him so softly like he wasn't a monster for once after so long.

His heart begun beating faster, his head was so full of questions about you it infuriated him. Long legs carried the colonel to the gym absentmindedly, like his body craved to ease some tension, but at the last minute he turned to the left corridor further from the gym, went to the right and finally approached the shooting range's door.

"Scheibe..." König cursed lowly, he could have very well bursted the door out of it's hinges, his gloved hand (still a bit shaky) took his favorite riffle from the top right corner of the shelf while he shot a backward kick to push the metallic door closed. He spent fourteen minutes shooting targets while mauling at your last interaction, rage swirled his insides and yet he couldn't fully hate you for asking questions, after all it was work-related, and the last soft gaze you gave him spoke volumes that you didn't want to advert all the attention to him out of malice. König was reloading his sniper rifle when he heard a gentle thud indicating someone had entered the room.

"You'd make an amazing sniper." You spoke softly trying not to startle him.

"You come to mock me? Laugh all you like. I'm well aware I'm too huge to be a sniper." He spoke in resentment over his shoulder before redirecting his focused gaze to the target ahead.

"I always say size doesn't matter! As long as you know how to handle your weapon, you'll make any girl blush."

Your dark humour takes König by surprise and he misses the dummy's head, he tries to hold back the chuckle that threatened to spill from his hidden lips. Luckily the shirt he wore as a mask shielded his face enough to make it look like he was holding in a cough or a sneeze but you weren't stupid. When he turns to face you placing the riffle to the near table he gets startled by how close you are, the smirk accompanying your lips as you weaseled close to his very sacred personal space made him curse lowly in his mother's tongue. The tall Austrian stepped back and you rose your hands in mocking defeat.

"Alright, I get it, personal space. Jus' wanted to hear ya laugh..."

"I didn't." He hisses.

"Didn't ya? I thought I heard it, must have been the wind."

Your sarcasm often infuriated König who never seemed to get a good grip on his English, so it was hard for him to detect when you were being serious or just pulling his leg. His hands flex on his sides, tiny waist move side to side as he balances his weight before he crosses his arms and leans his back to the wall. König raises a brow when your smirk morphed into a sincere apologetic smile as you admired his stance six feet apart from him.

"I'm sorry for what happened back there." You said honestly, he sucked in a breath. "Didn't want t' put ya on the spot."

The Colonel's cerulean eyes widen in surprise before directing his gaze to your tank top blinking rapidly. It was easier to listen if he wasn't looking directly at your eyes. "König..." Your voice was honey making shivers run up his spine and his skin erupt in goosebumps, his hands trembled even when he fisted them on his crossed stance. "Why don't we start again? Call me paranoid, but I feel like there's tension between us and not the type I'd like."

König wasn't shy, he wasn't, but that last line of yours made him feel like it, and it wasn't an ugly feeling? But it was a little uncomfortable, foreign, it squeezed his heart in a suffocating way, his hands were clammy, he felt weirdly light like if it wasn't for his tapping foot on the floor he'd float away. König understood what you were saying and it comforted him that you were on the same page, the weird unsteadiness between the two of you becoming rather unbearable and a constant topic on both your minds, it was relieving that you thought the same way. Suddenly the ugly anger he had for you quieted down.

The colonel lifted his hand your way offering you a handshake you took with mirth.

"I'm colonel König. Y-you are...?"

"Goddamn. Ain't your parents bit' egotistical? Namin' their baby boy 'king' in their native language." You say with a snicker shaking his hand. He takes it back abruptly but you don't flinch. "I'm Sargeant (c/n). My name is (y/n) (l/n). Is König the name written on your birth certificate or were you called somethin' else?" You press.

König is taken aback by this. When was the last time someone had asked the colonel his name?

"I am..." It tasted foreign on his tongue, like he had forgotten the sound of it, the taste of his own name on his tongue. "My name is Andreas Dobler. That's... That's my name." His name wasn't König, he remembers the man he left behind all those years back, the man under the dark cloak. Before things went to shit, before becoming colonel König.

"Andreas. What a curious name, never heard of it-"

"Say my name again." König interrupts. His voice weak but demanding and desperate. He loved it. He loved the sound of his name on your lips. It was strange, sweet... Arousing, even.

You blinked angling your head up to take a better look at his half-lid eyes. This time König didn't look away, your eyes met and suddenly the ugly tension from before was morphing into another type of tension, your heart beats faster in sync with his. You didn't know you were getting closer until König placed a hand on your waist and then the other, not pushing, not pulling, he simply laid them there and it came so naturally, your playful smile wavered slightly as your hands landed on his shoulders, he shivers. You tilted your head to the side and he was so lost in you, your aroma, your eyes, your lips, your touch, he didn't realize he was returning the head tilt.

Your lips parted, pink tongue darting to hydrate your dry lips until your pearls were visible from the gap, and his eyes catch every movement your mouth makes when you whisper "Andreas."

"Again."

"Andreas-"

"Again..."

"...Andreas..." Your hands slowly move to his chest, his breath hitches. His name has never sounded so sensual whispered by anyone's mouth. You were... You...

"You..." He isn't sure what to say. You are not sure either, suddenly your wit has abandoned you it seems. "You intrigue me." He decides to huff out, accent heavily pronounced.

There's a thousand thoughts swirling on König's mind, he has shared his name but it suddenly didn't feel enough, he wanted to show you who he was, his past, his thoughts, his hopes and dreams, even his face. How can a simple woman like you make König feel so much? Because you were no simple woman. That's why when he felt your small hands slide up his chest to the hem of the shirt that composed his mask, König didn't tense up, in fact, his shoulders relaxed embracing the touch of your fingers gently feeling his neck under the cloth, his stubble, his chin, his high cheeks... Gloved hands grab your wrists.

You stop, still looking up at him noticing the heaving of his chest and how lost in awe his gaze seemed.

"Not yet?"

"I-i... Do not..." Mind. He didn't want to refuse your touch but at the same time it was so overwhelming.

You give a small nod, König lets go of your wrists and you take this opportunity to nuzzle his cheeks, he gasps landing his hands on your waist once more, squeezing the flesh over your tank top. The feeling of your fingers on his face was so foreign it felt like you were touching a piece of his soul.

"Don't you worry, darling..." König lets out a small whimper at this. "I'm rushing things ain' I? We were just getting on the first name basis and I had to screw it all..." You wanted to sound apologetic, you promise, but it was so hard when your colonel was practically purring at the feeling of your soft hands scratching his stubble.

König was putty on your hands, he has never felt this way. His cheeks burn in embarrassment, he tries to move back but remembers he's already against the wall, and you, a small thing like you have him cornered like a honey badger hunting a lion. His lip wobbles and he tilts his head to the side as he feels your hands massage and explore his neck and jaw in long, gentle motions.

"Shy lil' thing... Aren't you pretty hiding under there? Maybe you are too beautiful to allow anyone the pleasure of a simple look. Like a sweet Ferrero Roche firmly wrapped and ready to be eaten." You whisper, voice raspy before you chuckle when his Adam's apple bobs with a swallow. Your body is now pressed compleatly against his, your dear colonel's hands tremble on your sides as he fists your tank top. He's nervous, he's shy, but you know he is enjoying this judging by the way his teary, half-lid eyes blink slowly every time you feel a new inch of skin.

"...Sag bitte mehr, ich flehe dich an..." (Say more please, I beg you.) König moans out, his german accent so strong masking how weak he was feeling at the moment.

He loved your voice, your touch... Your everything. The colonel ran his fingers on your lower back encouraging to continue, meanwhile he very slowly tilted his head higher allowing you more space on his neck to massage and scratch. You chuckle darkly feeling his member poking at your belly, your body instantly pressing harder against his cornered torso.

"You like the sound of my voice, colonel?" You humm, he makes a small noise. "Andreas...?"

His shoulders shake with the force of his shiver, nails digging deliciously on your lower back, you chuckle delighted at the sight tilting his chin to the other side to feel his nape, his ear and some locks of hair. "ich begehre dich..." The Austrian groans, his member now fully erect twitched delighted by the delicious pressure of your torso against it and your soft ministrations to his neck.

Both your radios churr alive until a voice breaks the static, a random operator checking on the comms. König almost knocks you over with how fast he straightened his back and the way his strong grip held you back, his chest heaving fast, eyes wide and vulnerable. You take the opportunity to grab him by the hem of the shirt he uses as a mask.

"Wait-..."

König freezes when he feels cold air hit the heated skin from his neck. You had lifted a portion of the cloth revealing the part you were previously massaging, caressing and scratching. His head moves up to the side trying to hide from your touch, his hands shoot backwards planting on the wall as if a force had taken them from the previous grip he had on you.

"I hope you can forgive me colonel... Can't help it..."

There's a long gash on his neck, a very old scar that seemed to be product of a knife fight or even a bullet, it's crocked and it goes up probably to his right ear. You lean close on tiptoes because he couldn't crouch due to how shocked he still felt, and you planted your wet lips on the surface of the sensitive scar. König's throat rumbles with a groan, his powerful hands finally make the move to take you, to cage your body impossible closer to his. A hard roll of his hips make him gasp in relief and you loudly huff when he handles you to where he was previously caged, his hands soon making small effort to lift you up, both legs wrapped around his waist and he THRUSTS. You are still kissing, licking and nibbling his neck, your hands exploring the long bulky surface of his back, König moans delighted at one particular bite until-

"Shit."

König turned his head back so fast you are sure his neck is rotatory, two pairs of eyes look in shock at Horangi who is standing there holding the rifle König had previously left before all of this happened. Your colonel was frozen in embarrassment his shaking hands still held you up and his boner was no longer stabbing you, the thing died at the speed of light.

"Jesus Christ. You gonna keep staring or you wanna join us, tiger?"

König snaps his head back at you comically fast, icy eyes glare in surprise, horror and astonishment.

"As fun as that sounds I'll leave you two to your games... 'sides, I don't think you'll be able to handle König alone, imagine the two of us. We'd ruin you." The Korean's response made you laugh enchanted with his wit, he walked out the door in quick strides leaving you two alone once more.

König huffs glaring at the wall behind you. The sudden unwelcome presence of his friend seemed to had robbed the magic from the moment. Your Colonel's body shagged slowly lowering your body, and the moment your heels touched the ground his head leaned down falling to the crock of your neck, the feeling of the warm cloth of his mask made you humm. He kissed your clavicle over his mask and you ran your hands to his shoulders until König slowly retrieved.

He took two steps back, with a very noticeable defeated look.

"Hey. We can keep going whenever yer up to. Don't look at me like that, sweet thing." Your voice carried a playfulness that comforted him from the sudden feeling of defeat.

König couldn't meet your eyes, his voice was shaky "I'm just not like this-..."

"Andreas-"

"DON'T -...!" He barked, startling you both.

It was too much, too sudden, too weird, too suffocating. He liked it at first but... König couldn't put into words what he was feeling right now. He hated that the moment was cut short, he hated that he felt like it was his fault and he hated the way you are looking at him with so much concern like when you two were at the meeting.

"Verzeihen Sie mir." He muttered giving you a final short glance before he rushed out of the place leaving the door open and your startled self still leaning on the wall.

You recognized those words even if you didn't know much of German.

"Forgive me." You translated in a whisper.

Will you?

#call of duty modern warfare #cod #witty reader #konig x reader #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig x reader angst

[scalproie]

just wanna say that previously i really didnt know how annoying "x reader" posts were probably bc i never usually stumbled upon them in the kazuya tag but now i am starting. to understand why there is hate on them once i stepped into a popular tag so i get it now 👍LMAOOOO

these fucking things are a plague in ANY major tag of a franchise somehow and its always the same thing: obnoxious length with no read more, every tag under the sun EXCEPT a general x reader one which would make filtering easier for everyone else, and always some fun mischaracterization of the character involved but thats just the nature of it

Speaking of the nature of x reader, some people are annoyed by them bc they clog the tags, but I, myself fucking hate the mere concept of it bc 1) characters dont exist in a vaccum, if you remove them from the story theyre from whats the fucking point. where's the flavor outside of some vague aesthetic attraction. like that one post once said, what's y/n's narrative significance? what about the other characters? and why dont they show up in the story if they're so important to be (usually) the character's love interest? Which leads to 2) the character is ALWAYS going to be some degree of being uncomfortably (to me, canon enjoyer) OOC. and 3) either the author has the absolute confidence to think they can characterize my favorite character AND ME (IM the reader in this scenario last I checked) correctly, or its just personal projection that they then slap a generic x reader and y/n on top to reach max audience, and I dont like the lack of self-awareness

#sorry to use your ask as an excuse to hating i just needed to get this of my chest #and despite it all this isnt an attack. if YOU enjoy reading x reader good for you #Im just spelling out why *I* really really really DONT like them #anyway yeah. if x reader has no hater i am no longer of this world👍 #and glad kazuya is spared. tho on one hand people have no taste if they dont write them about him. on the other hand good leave him alone #tagging later #kazooyah

[alienzil]

Okay so I saw this post and you know the types of fics where adult Danny moves to Gotham and winds up emotionally adopting one or more of bat kids or accidentally coparenting with Bruce (with or without a relationship between them)? I had the thought, what if Danny parented the bat kids but he started doing it out of spite?

Like, Danny moves to Gotham and runs into Batman and Robin one night while out for a late night flight and drops down to the rooftop to say hi.

Bruce sees this 5'6" twink that looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over and is so obviously new in town and thinks Gotham is going to eat him alive, he needs to leave before he gets killed.

Batman: Looming menacingly and in his deepest scariest Batman voice, "Leave. Metas aren't allowed in Gotham."

Danny: Offend! Excuse?! Who does this guy think he is?! 😡 Danny was trying to be polite here! "First of all, I'm not a meta. Second of all, rude much?!"

Batman: Does scariest bat glare. "Leave." Swoops off into the night.

Robin (Damian): "My father is correct. You should leave the city for your own safety."

Danny sees this tiny vigilante child with fierce expression and a sword and is just like awww, so cute! 😍 Then he noticed Robin had a small cut on his arm and his inner gremlin activates. If the rude flying furry can't take care of his own kid properly, Danny will do it better!

He bandages up Damian's arm, gives him a cookie and teaches him a neat sword trick before sending him on his way with a hug telling him he needs his sleep.

Danny goes out of his way to run into the bat kids and be the absolute best dad.

He takes Nightwing flying and throws him in the air so Nightwing can do all the fanciest acrobatic tricks.

He tracks down Red Hood and starts a book club with him (Danny may or may not have used his connection with Ghost Writer to get ahold of some rare books).

He eats waffles with Spoiler and trys out weird topping combinations that make them both make faces and laugh.

He makes new gadgets for Red Robin but carefully breaks them just a little bit and takes them to the teen so they can fix them together (it's enrichment!). He always insists RR keep them as a reward.

He follows Signal around during the day invisibly, making faces and doing tricks only Signal can see (he made him laugh in front of the police at a crime scene twice!).

All of the kids get his attention and love and Danny smugly thinks how Batman must be absolutely seething about his kids bonding with Danny and Batman missing out on all of it.

Danny started it out of spite but he does wind up genuinely loving the bat kids.

Batman definetly hates it when the kids are bonding with Danny and is extremely jealous (sulky Batman brooding in his cave about it).

Bruce's repeated attempts to intimidate Danny into leaving Gotham don't work and him telling his kids to stay away from Danny had zero effect (the terrible children don't listen to him at all).

So Bruce starts spending more time with the kids to compete against Danny. The bat kids love it and (little gremlins that they are) use the two of them against each other constantly.

Bruce:"Sorry Tim, I can't make it to your photography exhibit this weekend, there's a meeting with the Justice League."

Tim:"Oh that's fine... I'll just ask Danny to come." 😏

Bruce: Narrows his eyes and grits his teeth, "Actually, the Justice League needs to have contingencies in place to manage without my input. This would be a good time to test their capabilities. I'll skip the meeting and come to your exhibit."

With both of them competing to spend more time with the kids it leads to the two of them spending time with each other to be around the kids more.

After Damian catches a terrible flu bug, Danny spends an entire weekend at the manor babying him. This is when Bruce finds out Danny has known their secret identities for months and tries to get mad about it but Alfred puts his foot down, raises a judgmental eyebrow in Bruce's direction that puts a stop to that nonsense and sets up Danny with his own room in the family wing.

Eventually, Danny gets to the point where he spends most of his nights at the manor and he and Bruce consult each other on all major household decisions.

The whole family is at the manor one morning including Danny. Bruce has a meeting at WE and he and Danny are absently discussing their plans for the day at the breakfast table.

Bruce: " The meeting should take most of the morning and then I have paperwork this afternoon and a scheduled walk through on one of the new engineering projects. I probably won't be done by the time school let's out. Can you pick up Damian today?"

Danny: "That shouldn't be a problem. Would you mind swinging by the bookstore on the way home and getting my preorder? Jay and I just finished rereading the first book and we were wanting to start the second tonight before you all go on patrol. I'd rather not try to make it to the bookstore in school rush hour traffic"

Bruce: "Sure."

Stephanie watches Danny reach out and absently straighten Bruce's tie as they both get up to leave. Bruce grabs Danny's coffee thermos and hands it to him while they walk out the door.

Stephanie: "Sooo, bets on how long until they realize they're basically married?"

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #Adult Danny #Parenting out of spite #Bat dad #Batfamily shenanigans #bat kids #There's a mug in the manor #It says Number One Dad #Bruce and Danny constantly steal it from each other #Bruce/Danny? #Maybe #they're both idiots #But they love their kids

[inkskinned]

it's hard to explain because inevitably you sound like an asshole, but some people are allowed to lose their temper, lose their mind - you're not, though.

when your friend never texts you first and misses your birthday and never makes an effort; you don't mind. you know she's struggling, and you want her to get the help that she deserves. you give her every excuse and every chance.

it shouldn't matter to you so much that people are always coming through for her. you want her to be happy, you love it for her. you love that her community rises up to the occasion. why does it bother you that when she snaps at someone, says horrible mean things - but two hours later, everyone is comforting her while she's crying. you know she's stressed. why do you kind of hate that she is welcomed back to her job, that her parents are endlessly wiring her money.

and you're - fuck, are you envious?

but when you don't text back, someone sits you down and says i know you're struggling, but you're being a bad friend. when you're too numb to show up for work, your boss just shakes his head. i'm sorry. i can't approve more time off. we have the company to protect. when you finally snap back at your family for making that shitty comment again, you're forced to apologize for being too sensitive.

god forbid you need something. people aren't used to you being the one asking. you're the giver like the book you hated; your pages all open and rumpled. you always have the answer, always have the solution. you are reliable, trustworthy. people like you don't struggle with things. you're supposed to be lifted by tragedy. you are given a maximum of 24 hours to grieve, and then you need to just behave at the party.

you can't read the giving tree without feeling like crying, and even that feels like it's too much emotion. like, nobody looks at you and assumes you're the tree; they'd name five other people before even considering you in the running. you're just there, never-asking.

your friend gets to say mean shit, that's just her personality. when you make a snide comment, you're just being petty. people laugh when your friend stands you up for another event; they say she's just like that. you were 5 minutes late to a meeting with friends and they were mad about it for the rest of the evening. your friend sets everything on fire; everyone applauds her through the ashes. you so much as light a candle: and suddenly now you're an arsonist.

you don't want your friend to suffer, though. the thing is that you just wish that the empathy and kindness your friend gets - you wish you had that option, that everyone offered you grace and money and a gentle reception.

the other day you were fighting down the bad urge; the void call, the end note. you tried-anyway. you went to the family event, tried laughing at the right moments. nodded and smiled and all of it. one of your siblings threw a fit, but she's allowed to, so everyone just rolled their eyes about it. you took 3 whole minutes to stand outside when you got overwhelmed. you literally set a timer about it.

in the morning you woke up to a text from your parents: you were a complete disgrace last night. idk what your attitude problem is, but you really need to fix it.

#writeblr #eldest daughter syndrome #tbh

[sharlsworld]

soft lauch? - 𝐜𝐬𝟓𝟓 ✽

✿ carlos sainz x influencer!reader (obvi)

✿ y/n and carlos try to soft launch their relationship but his millennial mind can’t comprehend the idea

✰ i got a little crazy at the end guys so i sincerely apologize for that also there’s a age gap…i’m sorry i’m obsessed with them sue me

🝮🝮🝮

definitelynotyn

liked by joris__trouche and 113 others

definitelynotyn is it time to start soft launching?

carlossainz55 Mi corazón I need you to explain a soft launch to me again

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux everyone take a minute to pray for y/n

♥︎ by author

landonorris LONGGGGG over due

⤷ definitelynotyn we’ve just been waiting for the right time

francisca.cgomes soft launch us? fs

⤷ definitelynotyn let’s go over the captions

⤷ carlossainz55 Alrighty then!

⤷ pierregasly idc how many years go by i’ll never get used to this

⤷ definitelynotyn cry about it

⤷ pierregasly i will

charles_leclerc You would hope so after almost 4 years of dating

⤷ definitelynotyn it’s not our fault we can keep a secret sharl

⤷ charles_leclerc What’s that supposed to mean 🤨

lilymhe carlos sainz deserves to be locked up for going after my little kitten when she turned 18 😾

⤷ carlossainz55 Your just mad I got rizz

⤷ lilymhe obviously not that good if your girl is eating lunch with me rn

⤷ carlossainz55 @definitelynotyn Come home baby the kids miss you

⤷ definitelynotyn omw 😍

⤷ lilymhe damn…someone took my bitch

georgerussell63 Nah i’m waiting for the hard launch engagement post

⤷ carlossainz55 😏

alex_albon bros gonna catch a case 😭

⤷ danielricciardo He’s ready to risk it all

🝮

yn

liked by carlossainz55 and 6,924,085 others

yn so baby girl coded 🎀

charles_leclerc My eyes 😓

⤷ yn oh please spare me the dramatics

landonorris you two make me sick 🤢

⤷ yn all i’m seeing is a bunch of hating jealous bitches 🤧🥱

hoeforsainzzz guys…that watch looks pretty familiar

f1wags 👀👀👀

smoothoperator55 yk…i’ve spent some time memorizing the arms and hands of the f1 drivers and let me tell you…that’s gotta be carlos sainz 👁️👁️

ynstan4lyfe some of you guys need to except the fact that carlos and her are just friends and nothing more

carlossainz55 Lucky guy

this comment has been deleted

operatorsainz ik ya’ll seen that 🫣

danielricciardo How many times must I remind you that children are on this app

⤷ yn it’s not my fault if they see it the age requirement is 13 🤓

🝮

carlossainz55

liked by lewishamilton and 9,813,762 others

carlossainz55 4 years with you by my side ♥️

charles_leclerc Tell her to cut her claws it looks like you asked a bear to scratch your back

⤷ hoeforsainzzz HELLOOOO??????

carlossainzappendix HELLO THATS THE SAME PICTURE Y/N POSTED IN HER SOFT LAUNCH STHU

landonorris bless carlos and his millennial mind 😞

iliveforcarlossainz welp this definitely wasn’t on my 2024 bingo card

hearts4lando SHUT THE HELL UP 4 YEARS AND WE HAD NO CLUE?

flowersforyn sooo…we’re not gonna talk about the 8 year age gap?

⤷ alex_albon no his lawyers are on speed dial he was ready to risk it all

⤷ yn shut up albono

yn oh baby 😭

⤷ carlossainz55 Did I do it wrong?

⤷ yn yeah but it’s the thought that counts

maxverstappen1 Almost had it mate

alexandrasaintmleux whoever didn’t pray for y/n this is your fault

🝮

definitelynotyn

liked by schecoperez and 98 others

definitelynotyn why is bro tryna rizz me up

francisca.cgomes HAHAHA HES SO OLD WHO TYPES WITH AUTO CAPS

⤷ carlossainz55 Mature adults

⤷ definitelynotyn excuse me?

⤷ carlossainz55 I can never win

⤷ lilymhe HAHAHA THATS WHAT YOU GET FOR MESSING UP HER SOFT LAUNCH

charles_leclerc He actually was sweating like a bitch when he realized he posted the same picture

lewishamilton Roscoe misses his godmother he’s in need for a visit

⤷ definitelynotyn stop i’m coming over tmr

oscarpiastri 29 year old spaniard seen running around paddock looking disheveled and almost in tears after the realization hit that he ruined his girlfriends soft launch

⤷ definitelynotyn thanks for the update osc

carlossainz55 Babe please i’m on my knees begging forgive me

⤷ landonorris stand up carlos

⤷ definitelynotyn don’t you have a race to lose or something?

⤷ landonorris maybe in a different lifetime…you aren’t my bully 😔

⤷ definitelynotyn oh go cry me a river

⤷ landonorris i will

alexandrasaintmleux i wish charles was this down bad for me

⤷ charles_leclerc Girl………..

⤷ yn is what you are? 🤣🤣🤣

⤷ charles_leclerc You are my biggest hater

⤷ definitelynotyn proudly

🝮

yn

liked by haileybieber and 10,172,253 others

yn ruined my soft launch but it’s ok cause the D is fire 🔥 yeah, i said it.

carlossainz55 Mi corazón es tuyo ♥️

⤷ yn ♥️

charles_leclerc You guys should pay for my therapy since i’ve spent the last 4 years sleeping in the room next to yours

⤷ carlossainz55 Get ear plugs

ynlos ik those bitches are like bunnies 🫣

hoeforsainzzz y/n giving us a little snack 😩

ynstan4lyfe i would like to take back what i said on her soft launch

danielricciardo Your pr managers are quaking with rage right now I know it

⤷ yn i was gonna say something but then i chose peace 😇

⤷ georgerussell63 That’s a first

⤷ yn alright bro your entire existence is a meme calm down 🤣🤣

⤷ georgerussell63 I can always count on you to make me cry

🝮

carlossainz55

liked by lissiemackintosh and 9,019,723 others

carlossainz55 Dibs

francisca.cgomes WOAH THERE BUDDY

arthur_leclerc that’s enough instagram for the day.

landonorris my poor eyes

yn best pillow 😇

⤷ carlossainz55 Just for you

ynissocutiepatootie her side profile 😍😍

ynsmywife carlos sainz can’t handle allat

carlando this altered my brain chemistry

carlitossainz brotha don’t know what to do with allat

charles_leclerc Every time I open this app man I can’t escape it 💔

⤷ yn is that a little bitch i hear?

⤷ charles_leclerc You wound me

maxverstappen1 Wasn’t prepared for that

carlossainz55 All you bitches can stay mad

🝮

yns.asskisser

liked by oscarpiastri and 84 others

yns.asskisser Date night with the missus

yn WOOF WOOF MEOW 😍😘😋👅🤤 SMASH SMASH SMASH YOU CAN HAVE IT ANY DAY ANY WHERE ANY TIME

⤷ yns.asskisser I love u mami

yn do you want head?

⤷ yns.asskisser Always baby 😘

⤷ charles_leclerc JUST BECAUSE THIS IS A PRIVATE ACCOUNT DOESNT MEAN OTHER PEOPLE CANT SEE IT

landonorris aw you sick bastard

lilymhe what is it finna play…WOAHHHH

alexandrasaintmleux i miss the person i was 10 seconds ago

francisca.cgomes you and y/n put 50 shades of grey to SHAME

alex_albon so who’s coming to church with me and lily on sunday? 😇

⤷ pierregasly me and kika

⤷ charles_leclerc Me and alexandra

⤷ oscarpiastri me and lily

⤷ danielricciardo Me

⤷ schecoperez Me

⤷ maxverstappen1 Me

⤷ yukitsunoda0511 Me

⤷ lewishamilton Me and roscoe

⤷ georgerussell63 Me and carmen

⤷ landonorris me

⤷ joris__trouche me

⤷ lance_stroll me

⤷ logansargeant me

⤷ fernandoalo_oficial Me

⤷ yn ya’ll mad i’m getting my world rocked every night 🤪🤪

♥︎ by author

#f1 smau #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz smau #f1 imagine #f1

[lady-ashfade]

Hi, I wanted to request something platonic with Percy, with him meeting his older half-sister after he finds out he's the son of Poseidon.

Sorry for my English, I'm using the translator to write, and sorry if you don't understand my request

Pictures On The Wall

Percy jackson x older!sister (platonic)

-£ this was the first thing that came to mind and it’s such a cute idea! thank you.

-£ words: 700

-£ warnings: short, nervous percy, cool reader, sassy and kinda grunge reader, siblings bonding, fluff.

the wall across from his bed was covered with many things. pictures of people he didn’t know along with a bed half made and clothes piled up. “that’s y/n’s” a name he never heard but yet was family. his half sister was somewhere on a quest and didn’t know that he was snooping round her things.

he looked at the pictures all the time, liking the smile you had. he knew that smile, a distinct memory in his mind but you wore it with pride. you looked so cool and by all the stories he heard you were one of the most awesome person at camp.

every cabin knew you, it was like he needed to fill some sort of shoe now that you walked in but he didn’t know the first thing.

“percy,” grover peaked into the cabin and looked around for his best friend, when he found him he looked nervous. “I think you should come.” percy jumped up at the sound of his voice that sounded like something horrible had happened.

percy walked along his friend while his heart raced, “what happened?” had another monster attacked the camp, what could have happened that he had to come.

“she’s back.” Grover muttered while sighing, “And we thought you should meet her.” oh,- oh gods. you were back so soon? he didn’t have a clue on what he would say or do. would you like him, would you hate him and somehow kick him out of the cabin? he’s never had a sibling before.

“she’s getting patched up and I’ll warn you,” Grover patted his shoulder with a kind smile, “she’s unpredictable at times.” Yeah, that makes me feel much better Percy thought.

as soon as the walked into the infirmary all they could hear was yelling and arguing making the young boys look at each other. they walked to the door and saw the girl on the bed glare at the other around her age.

he knew you. the picture he looked at every day you seemed to be exactly like that, but you didn’t look happy like all of them. the shirt you wore had rips in it and a bloody bandage wrapped around your arm. the redhead girl in front of you held a spoon up to your mouth but you kept fighter her off.

“I’m fine! It’s just a few scratches, I’m not a child!” it was ironic that you looked like a bratty child that wanted to stomp their feet. your lips pouted slightly. percy didn’t know what to think at the scene.

“take it. you’re just keeping yourself from leaving, so do it so I can leave!” the other girl seemed to knock some sense into you as you huffed and took the spoon in your mouth. if looks could kill then she would be on the ground by now, you looked so angry.

humming the redhead walked out of the door and looked at the boys before rolling her eyes and kept going down the hallway. you didn’t seemed to notice them as you started to take off the dirty bandages.

Grover was the first to speak, “excuse me,” you looked at him quickly but your eyes were now soft and no longer sharp. “Grover, come in!” you invited him over but your eyes soon fell on the boy next to him. and immediately the connection between the two of you went off in your head.

“you must be percy?”

he shifted closer and awkwardly not knowing want to do, “yeah. how do you know?”

“I received letters telling me of the idiot brother I seemed to have,” you chuckle and throw the dirty cloths in your hands on the bed. The cut was gone but dry blood still stayed on your skin, “you have dads eyes.” You pointed to your own.

“really?” he asked quietly as you hopped on the floor and stretched. “Oh yeah, less disappointment in them but I’ll give it time.”

you yawned and picked up the black jacket and your backpack, “I’m starving,” you stood between the two of them and then swung your arms around the two of them.

“Now, tell me what you did to Clarisse!” You smirk at the brother you just met, “my favorite sibling already.”

#pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x reader #platonic percy jackson #platonic percy jackson x reader #platonic x reader #fluff #brother!percy jackson

[everythingne]

christmas in monaco - cl16

You are Charles Leclerc’s best kept secret. Twin of his best friend, a racing prodigy, and his secret girlfriend of two years. The first six months had been secret, just to make sure you’d actually survive a relationship, but then Max said something to Charles that made the idea of ever telling him impossible. So you end up here, half in your brothers apartment half in your soon to be fiancés, trying to celebrate two Christmases in one day.

verstappen!reader x charles leclerc, secret dating/brothers best friend

warnings/notes: cursing, jos is there for a bit in the beginning, poorly translated dutch and french, danny is in red bull bc i said so

next chapter..

-

Warm. That was the best way you could explain the way the bed felt as hot breaths fanned across your chest from the head tucked against your neck. One arm draped across your waist, pulling you closer as you stir and reach up to turn off your phone's alarm. The second arm sleepily comes to wrap around your chest, dragging you back into the warmth of your two year secret.

"No," Charles sighs, eyes still closed as kisses are peppered along your neck and jaw, "Don't go..."

"I have to, Char." You murmur, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you sit up and look at your still very sleepy boyfriend who blinks wearily at you and the sun that halos you, "We don't need Max getting suspicious as to why I'm never home."

"I wish we could tell him." Charles sits up next to you, a hand coming up to fix some loose hairs that were sticking up at odd angles against your head. You didn't answer, just humming. A year and a half ago, during the summer break, you and Charles planned on telling Max. He and Charles got along like a house on fire, there was really no reason you wouldn't have been able to tell your brother about your little blooming relationship.

And then Max had said something to you and Charles, moments before you had planned to tell him, about how you were strictly forbidden from dating any Formula racers. For no specific reason. You had played it off like a joke that night, but once you'd returned to Charles apartment a few nights later you realized just how much your brothers words had affected the both of you.

So, you agreed that night it was (questionably) better to keep it secret.

But Charles and Max knew each other like the backs of their hands. They had been destined from the start to be together, even back in the days of them literally hating each other on the track. You had tagged along with your brother, never driving because of your fathers beliefs, before moving away to live with your mother around the age of fifteen. You and Charles had only reconnected when he debuted in F1, and instantly clicked, even before he and Max did.

Somehow through the busyness of your brothers seasons, he had been distracted long enough for him to not catch on. It was even better when you had moved in with him in Monaco and established a good, core friend group you used as your excuse most times. All of them knew if Max called and asked, to say you guys were together last night since you told them every time you went to go see Charles. It felt foolproof.

“You really have to go?” Charles whines, sitting up finally and stretching his shoulder out, “You can’t stay for breakfast or anything?”

Humming out a maybe as you check the time, you roll to your side and then curse, giving Charles a quick peck on the lips before shoving him off of you and down onto the bed. He crashes amongst the blankets and such tangled together from the way you both toss and turn, nearly whacking his head on the headboard as you scamper to your feet and the cool breeze through the window makes goosebumps run along your skin. Leaning down, you grab your jean shorts off the floor and a hoodie you think is one of Charles' old ones you'd been wearing around.

“Ow?!” his voice echoes behind you and you throw a sorry over your shoulder, scrambling to find your bag and other items in his apartment. Half of your life was here, so you were able to find a spare pair of your socks in his drawer.

Getting to his feet, Charles grabs his shirt from the floor and tugs it over his head as he asks, “What is happening?"

“My dad is visiting today and I forgot I had to leave early!" You curse, jumping to slip on one of your sneakers and bending to fix the parts of the shoe that fold under your heel, "Fuck fuck fuck—!”

"Jos?" He inquires, pausing mid movement to scrunch his face at you. As far as Charles was aware, you and Max had some sort of huge blow up fight with your father and now you both no longer spoke to him.

"No, Charlie, my secret second father." You deadpan, turning around as you toss your bag over one shoulder, "Yes, Jos! Who else?!"

"Sorry!" He apologizes and comes besides you to give you a kiss to your hairline as he wipes a bit of fallen makeup off your cheek, "I thought he wasn't visiting this year?"

You know he means to say, I thought you and Max emancipated from him.

"I thought the same." You huff as you step back from his grasp to find your car keys on the bedside table.

He knows you mean to say, Max can't say no to him. It's a problem.

Charles just hums in response, and when you throw your purse over his shoulder and capture his lips in a quick goodbye kiss before rushing out of his apartment, a small smile peeks across his lips. Soles squeaking in the dew covered grass, you make your way to your parked car. Searching the streets as you walk and dipping between two cars when a guy who slightly looks like he could be Max passes, and then you continue down the road.

Monaco was small. It was a little country, beautiful and bursting at the seams with life, but still so small. So, seeing Max, especially if you were out and about, was likely. Every precaution was taken, and luckily your best friend Jolie lived in the apartment building next to Charles', so you could just park your car there to not raise suspicions.

Getting in your car you slam the door, cursing when you see the missed calls and messages from Max.

And... Daniel?

"I'm back!" You shout, shutting the front door and taking off your shoes and setting them on the shoe rack as you walk in. There's a tense feeling in the apartment and you set your backpack on the ground as Jos smiles.

"Ah, Y/n, how are you?" He says and you cross the room to give your father a quick hug.

"Fine fine, I slept in on accident, otherwise I would've gone with Max to get you at the airport." You sit on the couch next to Max, who's jaw is locked tighter than you've seen it before. The two of you share a look of 'why is this guy here' before your father waves off your words.

"It's fine, how's the degree going?"

"Good good, I'm working on finishing up my degree in Sports Management right now. Charles has been trying to set me up with an internship for Ferrari since Red Bull filled their internships for the season already." You cross one leg over the other and your father nods. Luckily your able to hold civil conversation with him until he takes a rideshare back to the airport. You and Max groan, flopping down on the couches as soon as he's gone and you bury your head in your hands. A typical Verstappen household afternoon.

-

It's fucking hot in Abu Dhabi. Though not as bad as Qatar, you're still sweating through your thin sundress. Wandering into Red Bull's paddock you're greeted by your brother, and then quite literally--and not anyway discreetly, escorted to the drivers room by none other than Daniel Ricciardo who claims he has a sports management question for you.

You know it's not about sports management when he locks the door to the drivers room and turns to you with eyes wide, mouth open in some sort of half grin half shocked expression.

"Charles fucking Leclerc?!" He hisses when you make a vague motion for him to explain and a groan leaves your throat involuntarily. You had been so safe for two years and of course it's Daniel of all people who figures it out. The only other guy who your brother trusts with his life.

"Danny you can't say anything, also why were you even in Monaco?" You snap back, poking Daniel in his throat right above his Red Bull logo on the collar of the fireproofs, your nail digging into the skin there.

"I was stopping by for media stuff," He puts his hands up, stepping back from you, "and how about you answer my question about Charles?"

"I was just--there?" You try and Daniel crosses his arms and looks at you with the most incredulous look in his eyes, head cocked and everything as he laughs.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Well, I--augh, okay," You groan, sitting on the back of the couch in the drivers room, "this isn't exactly easy to say. I'm kinda not trying to tell my brother about this?"

"Woah woah, Max doesn't know?" If Daniel could look more shocked at this point, he does.

"No and he can't know because he'd kill Charles." Your voice is small, frustratedly bringing heat to your cheeks. Other than your small group of friends from Monaco, and some from back home, you hadn't told anyone about this yet, "Do you promise you won't say anything?"

"I can pretend I saw nothing if that will make you feel better?" Daniel offers and you shake your head curling your hand around the edge of the dress you wear.

"Charles and I..." You huff, crossing your ankles, "have been dating for... two years now? I practically live at his apartment in Monaco when I'm not with Max and Kelly. And Max, apparently, doesn't want me dating any drivers so we... can't exactly... tell Max."

"Two and a half years? You've kept this a secret for two and half years and I'm the one who figured it out?" Daniel scoffs, "Honestly, Y/n, I'm impressed."

"Thanks? But I... I don't know what to do, Danny! We wanna tell Max so bad, but if I do I risk ruining everything!" You bury your head in your hands, groaning, "I can't lose Charles, but I can't lose Max either."

"Do you really think Max was serious about that rule?" Daniel asks, sitting next to you, "Because you're a fully grown adult, so like... how much control does he really have over who you date?"

"Well, I am viewed as an extension of my brother so therefore he gets a bit of a say. And if people find out the baby sister of Max Verstappen is dating Charles Leclerc?"

"Point taken." Daniel hums, "Media nightmare."

"Yep." You stand, pacing the room as you talk with your hands, something you'd picked up from Charles at some point, "there have been a thousand times I've wanted to say something! Thousands! Everytime the two of them are together, I can't ever imagine Max being upset about it. But then I get that little gnawing feeling in my gut. I just... can't do it. Because... if I do, and it ends in disaster, I don't know if I'll be able to handle it."

"And if it doesn't end in disaster?" Daniel inquires after you pause. You turn slowly to face him, watching as he tilts his head to further push his question. You've dreamed of it. Finally being able to tell Max everything about it, Charles had made it clear to you he was itching to tell his practical best friend too, and it would clear the main argument you and Charles had.

You laugh, "I'd be the happiest person alive."

--

y/nverstappen made a new post !

liked by maxverstappen, danielricciardo, lewishamilton, and 238k others...

y/nverstappen: mon nounours <3 j'adore les fêtes

maxverstappen: who?????

⤷ maxverstappen: also when the fuck did you learn french?

⤷ y/nverstappen: i have a tutor or two

user1: omg baby verstappen has a boy???

danielricciardo: 'i can't say anything' and yet u CAN post that. ITS NOT EVEN SNEAKY??

⤷ y/nverstappen: a moment of weakness i admit. ALSO YES THE FUCK IT IS DANIEL

⤷ user2: danny tell us what u know

charlesleclerc: babys first rolex?

⤷ y/nverstappen: im too afraid to wear it !! i dont want it to break or get lost or stolen 😵‍💫

lewishamilton: rolex + bracelet combo perfection

user3: i need to know who shes dating.

charlesleclerc made a new post!

liked by y/nverstappen, arthurleclerc, danielricciardo, and 289k more...

charlesleclerc: deux ans de toi, mon étoile. pour toujours.

maxverstapen: two years?? and I don't know her???

⤷ charlesleclerc: look i can keep a secret, surprisingly.

danielricciardo: good man

user1: CHARLES SOFT LAUNCH???

arthurleclerc: oh so you left out the part where you've been dating her FOR TWO YEARS??? CHARLES???

⤷ charlesleclerc: oops !

user4: 'two years of you, my star. forever' im going to SCREAM

liked by charlesleclerc

carlossainz: am i allowed to say who she is yet?

⤷ charlesleclerc: no and i still owe you for not locking the door

⤷ user2: HELP???

⤷ user3: poor carlos has been scarred for life.

⤷ carlossainz: honestly it was kinda funny

#f1 fanfic #formula one fic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader

[reticent-writer]

Alastor x teen reader (platonic)

@ghostly-one

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

Today was one of 'those days'. You woke up feeling better than ever so you decided to enjoy the day and take a little walk outside.

From the moment you stepped onto a sidewalk you were catcalled by some gross-looking thing that you didn't even want to describe. As you continued to walk just trying to enjoy your day when You spotted Mimzy.

You tried to walk away without being noticed but she saw you.

"Oh Y/n dear it's been so long. How have you been? How's Al, he's being. a. little. bitch." She said in a baby voice as she fussed over you.

"I'm good, He's good. I have to go." You talked fast as you backed away from her but she pulled you down into her chest.

"Oh not you trying to avoid me too. I still remember when you were a tot, all small.... living and breathing." She pinched your cheeks.

"That was back when I was alive, Mimzy." You deadpanned.

"Oh, I know darlin' but I still remember it. Come Come, I can only imagine that you don't know your way around seeing as you're always inside."

With that comment you were offically done with her. You rarely use your powers but you did to get away from her.

You hated when anyone mentioned how much time you spend in your room. You like your time alone and find nothing wrong with it.

You poofed away in a puff of smoke into an alleyway. You caught your breath while facing a side wall.

"Down to bone." some Random said as he grabbed your arm and tried to pin you against the wall. You broke his arm causing him to scream in pain.

"Don't touch me. Don't talk to me. Go." You succesfully scared him into running away but once he made it to the edge of the alley he bumped into someone. That someone killed him in an instant.

"Is that Alastor's little assistant?" The sound of a TV voice came from the sidewalk.

"You gotta be FUCKING. KIDDING." You hit the wall in frustration.

"Oooh~ someones mad." He teased as he walked up to you. "What are you doing out, the radio demon gave you permission?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"That's not very nice. I rarely see you without the big man. Can't we just chat."

"N-"

"What are you doing all by yourself, I'm on a walk myself I needed a break from the Vs." He said honestly just wanting to chat but you weren't in the mood, plus you didn't want to get in the middle of his and Al's rivalry.

So you poofed away again, this time going back to the hotel. Your day has been wasted, and you just want to go back to your room.

"Y/n you're back right on time we were just about to do some ex-" Charlie greeted you as cheerful as ever but it just annoyed you.

"Sorry Charlie not in the mood." You moved past her and everyone that was in the main area.

"Damn kid you look like shit." Angel laughed making everyone turn to you. You made eye contact with Alastor who got up at the sight.

"Are you alright? How was your day out." He asked. You tried to brush past him.

"It was a lot and I just want to go to my room now if you'll excuse me." You ran to your room and slammed the door.

---------

Later you got hungry and were about the raid the kitchen but when you opened the door you saw a plate of cookies and notes from everyone in the hotel.

'Maybe hell isn't all that bad'

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fluff #x child reader #child reader #teen reader #male reader #female reader #gn reader #platonic #reticent writes #reticent writer

[electriccenturies]

I think the thing that’s pissing me off the most about that friendship that I had that ended is that she not only spent years ignoring me ON PURPOSE, but she totally, knowingly took advantage of my patience. It was mean enough of her to string me along like that (she knows I’m autistic and can’t read cues that well, plus she knows I worry about being intrusive and so will put up with a lot of bullshit before getting confrontational, especially since I just assumed it was mental illness and tried to be patient) but while she was taking 2-3 business weeks to respond to any message I sent her, she was still reaching out to me when she wanted support.

I fucking dropped everything to talk through whatever she needed to talk through — every time. No matter how long it had been since she’d replied to me, no matter how many excuses she was throwing at me to not hang out, no matter how many times she cancelled on me 10 minutes before we were supposed to meet up... I would always make a point to be there for her. Meanwhile she couldn’t even do me the courtesy of telling me she didn’t want to be friends, and when I finally got fed up after years of it, she had the audacity to ask me if I’d felt any “tension” between us... yeah asshole, you know it because it’s on YOUR END! I’ve been nothing but patient and kind to you! Don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on!!!

#its like going up to someone and being all 'omg you had NO idea about this but i used to talk such shit about you in middle school. sorry!' #<- that's apologizing for YOU not them!!! they just found out something hurtful that they didnt need to ever know about!!! #i didn't need to know she hated me for YEARS?! i didn't need to know the rudeness was intentional wtf?! #she could have just left me be and I'd have been happier for it. she tried to pin it on me/make it mutual too like #'well its so hard but i guess we shouldnt be friends because it wouldn't be fair to you' uhhhh you decided that yourself years ago... #anyway im mad. im mad she kept using me as support when she wouldnt give me the time of day and let me blame it on her mental illness #she'd make excuses to not hang out like 'oh i can't afford it im so sorry' #when shed just told me she rebought a game for a new console and i was asking if she wanted to get fucking mcdonalds coffee with me #youre gonna buy a video game TWO TIMES and tell me im not worth literally $1.05 to spend time with? #its just really hurtful i resent her so much for this. if you dont want to be friends FINE but this was so beyond mean

[luveline]

Hello Jade! I have a request for hotch if that’s okay, I was thinking something like he’s dating sunshine!reader who goes to a police precinct with the team and the sheriff/deputy insults Hotch in front of her (maybe she’s not part of the BAU so he doesn’t realise she knows Hotch?) and she snaps and punches him/pushes him to the ground and afterwards she’s really quiet and refusing to tell anyone what happened cause she doesn’t want Hotch to hear that people were bad mouthing him. Everyone is confused cause she’s usually so bubbly and it’s disconcerting to see her so stern but she has to protect her man damnit 😤

(Ps I’m the anon who got confused about rules n you’re right I was looking under guidelines not requests 🤦🏼‍♀️ sorry!)

hi babe, thank you for your request! (and no worries at all, no sorry necessary!!)

—hotch is dumbfounded when you slap a deputy sheriff, but you have your heartfelt reasons. fem, 2k

You're not specifically BAU, but when Hotch calls, you answer. You don't look BAU either in your skirt with your blue laptop carry case; twice you're asked what you're doing in the precinct and if you need assistance, but eventually you get to the centre of the action upstairs, meandering through the detective's desks toward a conference room with a sticky-taped sign that says to knock before entering. 

"Hey, Spencer," you say, shouldering open the door. "They leave you behind?" 

Spencer turns away from his white board. "I'm more useful here right now. Did you bring the ethernet cable for Garcia?"

You put your laptop case on the table and pull out her desired cable. "Where is she?" It's hard-pressed for Penelope to be found anywhere away from her computer during case times. You must get twenty or more rejection emails a month from your fellow tech analysist. Sorry, working a case :'( 

"Bathroom. There's a kitchen if you need coffee. You have a badge?" 

You flash your visitor's badge at him. "Get you one?" 

"Four sugars. Thanks, L/N." 

You flash him a smile. The kitchen is back the way you came and to the right. It's nowhere near big enough for the workforce, three tables and one microwave next to a sink full of mugs. You smile at anyone who looks at you and beeline for a coffee pot. No one questions you. They must be used to outsiders invading their space this week. 

"Mean fucking guy." 

You tilt your head to the side, hand paused in their cup cabinet above the sink. You shouldn't be nosy, but they're not being very quiet, either.

"He has to be mean, I guess. That's a tight ship to run," says a second voice.

"I'd understand it if I thought they were getting somewhere. It's been four days, and between the string bean and his pushpin map and that tech girl who won't shut up? They're doomed. The boss is either too stubborn or too damn stupid to realise." 

You close the cabinet and turn around. 

"I fucking hate this shit. Ties in their suit jackets coming into our investigation and chasing the wrong leads. We could've had Miller in cuffs two days ago if Hotchner hadn't shut us down, two days ago! And now another kid is dead, and there's not a drop of remorse on him. He doesn't care about doing his job, he–" 

"He what?" you ask. Your heart is beating hard before you've so much as parted your lips, your hands trembling. You screw them into tight balls. 

"Excuse me?" 

Your opposition is a rough hewn man in a deputies badge, a cup of coffee held between two paws. He narrows thick salt and pepper brows at your question, his mouth screwed into a telling snarl. 

"You think Agent Hotchner doesn't care about his job? So why is he here? Why did he agree to take the case?" 

"Who the fuck are you?" 

You shake your head in annoyance and take the FBI badge from your little cross body bag. You toss it on the table, your beaming face looking up at him a juxtaposition to the glare you wear now. 

He stands up from his table. The lunch room hushes but the riot of precinct cacophony stays strong just outside of the door, a thrum that battles your roaring heart. You're so angry you can barely speak, and it'll only get worse. 

"I'm sorry you have to hear it from me, darling, I am, but your boss out there? Agent Hotchner?" The deputy scoffs. "He's a fool running blind. He turned away from the real issue here. He's a prideful, narcissistic idiot who's let the power of his paycheck get to his head, and as far as I'm concerned? So long as he stops us from arresting Jaden Miller? He's a murderer, too. The blood is on his hands." 

You know you're going to slap him from the moment he says 'murderer', but the knee to his crotch straight after is a surprise even to yourself. All you're thinking for one horrible white-hot moment is How can I hurt him? It's shameful, and you slam your knee up a second time anyhow. 

—

"You can tell me what happened now or later, but it's going to be much easier on you if you tell me now." 

Hotch hates this part. What he wouldn't give to have someone else here to reprimand you. He understands why Gideon left and he wouldn't want him back unwillingly, but Hotch thinks your nightly phone call may go over smoother tonight if it were Gideon standing in his place. Half the time Hotch finds he's uninterested in scolding you. It's why you stay firmly in your department and away from his bias in the BAU. He can't be optimal at his job while you're around. 

It's not limited to telling you off, of course. When you're near, he wants to act like it. He wants to take your hand, hold your arm, rub a palm between your shoulders. He wants to pull you into his lap, or pinch the soft lobe of your ear between his fingers to watch you shiver, blow warm air at the back of your neck to hear your laugh. This cold silence is his worst nightmare, but he can't cross the line. 

Well, he can't cross the line too much. 

In the privacy of a cordoned, borrowed office, Hotch can sit beside you. The blinds are closed, and his intimidation act wasn't getting him anywhere anyways. More flies with honey than vinegar. 

"I can't show favouritism here, do you understand? Especially when you're being physically violent against the deputy sheriff." Hotch watches the soft pillow of your bottom lip tremble in a private terror. "I know you wouldn't do this for no reason. I know. Give me a reason to take your side and I will." 

"I don't want to talk about it." 

"Did he say something inappropriate?" 

You don't answer.

"Did he?" Hotch can feel the anger he's been pushing down start to rise. When a woman like you, happy-go-lucky, pretty, and always smiling, turns to violence, it's not hard to picture why. He knows full well the horrible things a man can say to a woman. "Please, trust me to take care of this." 

"Hotch, I really don't want to talk about this. You can reprimand me, send me home." 

"No. Tell me what he said." 

You glare at him. Hotch finds with a heart-skipping hurt that it's the first time he's been on the receiving end of your disdain. "No. I don't want to." 

"And I don't want to send you home." He knows how he looks, stony-eyed and furrowed brow. He has to try hard to relax into a more neutral expression. "I won't. Not when I know you'd never hurt someone." 

"Well, I did." 

"We all do things we don't mean to in anger." 

In the quiet, he can hear Emily asking loud questions about what happened, and her almost comedic gasp as someone informs her of the situation. Morgan couldn't find the words to tell Hotch over the phone what happened, just told him to hurry back, and it was doubly difficult to get the story out of Spencer, who'd been the one responsible for standing in your way. 

"He called her a bitch," Spencer told him. "I didn't want to hold her back after that." 

The sheriff deputy has a good hundred pounds on you, so no matter what he called you, Hotch is glad you were pulled away. 

Hearing that you'd been called a bitch set his nerves aflame. When Spencer explained that this was said by a man on his knees after a swift jab to the crotch, Hotch was more confused. 

He follows a whim. He's biassed for sure, but he knows you're the most beautiful woman in any room that you walk into. It doesn't shock him that a high-ranking authority figure would take advantage of his position to make a pass at you. 

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," he says softly. "Whatever he said to you, I– I'm not supposed to support violence, but I understand if it got too much. Sexual harassment is unjustifiable, and I'll stand with you and your actions completely." 

"He didn't harass me, Aaron," you say, looking down at your knees. You're wearing dark stockings, pinching at the fabric distractedly. 

"Did he touch you?" 

"No, Aaron–" You sigh frustratedly. "I don't want to tell you what he said because it's not true." 

"He insulted you?" 

"He insulted you." You glance at him and then away. "I couldn't stand it." 

If there weren't cameras in the room he'd bundle you into his arms and kiss the slope of your cheek, because how is he supposed to handle this? You're hitting people when they talk bad about him now? 

Hotch doesn't need to ask to know it was bad. You're a well-meaning, well-adjusted person. You'd hardly hit somebody for calling Hotch a jerk. Something severe would've been said to have pushed you over the edge, but, to his detriment, Hotch has heard a thousand awful things about himself from a thousand different mouths, and he doesn't worry about what it was. 

"Alright. Listen to me carefully." Your shoulders stiffen. "I don't want you hurting people over me. I don't need you to defend me. I don't want you to fight my battles for me, and I certainly don't want you assaulting people on my behalf." 

Your lip again begins to tremble. "I'm sorry." 

"No. Don't be sorry." He covers your knee in his hand gently, ducking his head to meet your glassy eyes. He's gone about this the wrong way, upsetting you unnecessarily. He rushes to correct it. "I love that you want to defend me, I love that you did, and it isn't lost on me how much it means to have you at my side, but… You could have been seriously injured. Honey, picking on someone your own size is a double-sided coin. What if the deputy hit you back?" 

"I'm not afraid of getting hurt." 

He leans down more, imploring, desperate to be heard. "I'm afraid of you getting hurt. Me. I'm worried someone's going to hurt you when I'm not around." 

"He was saying all this stuff about you and it wasn't true–" 

"It's okay," he says, shaking his head slowly from one side to another. "It doesn't matter. I know what people like him think of me, and he's not in an easy position." He drops his voice to a murmur for your ears alone. "I'm not saying you should agree with him, I can't tell you that I like him much." 

You laugh weakly, the sound quickly melding to a sniffle. "I'm sorry, Aaron. I shouldn't have hit him. I don't know what came over me." 

"We get angry for the people we care about." 

He can't kiss you, really, not at work, but he can show you some heavy affection. It's a boundary crossed. Luckily, Hotch knows you won't report him. 

"Thank you for defending me. You can stay on the case if you promise not to do it again," he says, squeezing your smaller hand in his, drawing a lopsided heart with his thumb into the back of it. 

"I'll promise not to do it again if he promises to keep his stupid mouth closed," you mutter. 

"Is it wrong of me to like this version of you?" he says. 

You look him straight in the eye, your usual lightness restored, if dimmed just a touch. "I like all your versions, Agent Hotchner." 

"Good. Remind the version that's your boyfriend to treat you accordingly tonight. Okay?" 

You nod emphatically, both relieved and chastened. "Okay. Thanks, handsome." 

You look tired. Tonight, he'll kiss you like he means it, maybe a touch too rough but apparently you're a hard ass now who can handle it, and he'll hold you close even if he can't give you the attention you deserve until the case is done. He'll make sure you know how much he appreciates your protection, rub your back for hours just the way you like it while sleep fails. 

"You're welcome," he says. He has more to say but there's no more time to waste. There's still work to be done. 

It'll come easier with you at his side, he's sure. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[teapartyprincess4two]

can you write another Matt story? I'm obsessed with your writing!! <3

Manage- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Secretary!reader x Boss!Matt

classification: smut w/ a plot

warnings: 18+, MDNI, use of y/n, power dynamic, sexual content, suggestive content, slight cursing, mentions of alcohol use, mentions of jealousy, literal sex

summary: You’re Matt’s secretary, in charge of overseeing everything related to his schedule. Everyday when you come into the office he suppresses the urge to take you then and there. When on a work business trip, he can’t hold back anymore.

—

You loved your job, not because it was your dream job, but because it was easy. You went into work, did what you had to do, and at the end of the day you could go home and disconnect from it entirely. There were some odd days when your boss, Matthew, would call you in your days off or call you from home to ask about something. But, for the most part, you could completely forget about the job once you clocked out.

Just because the job was easy doesn’t mean that there wasn’t rules to be followed. As the boss of a world renowned magazine company, Matt always made sure to enforce them. For example, deadlines had to be met, sales were critical, and the workplace environment was meant to remain professional. He was a strict, straightforward boss and didn’t play when it came to the rules. Another one of his big rules was time management, he hated when people were late.

You were running a little late today, and as the boss’s secretary that was completely unacceptable. You stayed up late last night with an old friend, catching up on life and drinking one too many glasses of wine. Before you knew it, it was midnight and you still weren’t home. By the time you fell asleep it was already 3 in the morning. As a result, this morning you woke up late, you had to force yourself out of bed and rush to get ready.

So, now you’re walking into the office an hour late wearing an outfit you would’ve never picked out if you were in your right state of mind. You avoid eye contact with your coworkers as you make your way to your desk that’s situated in yours and Matt’s shared office. That was the worst part, out of all your coworkers you were the only one who had to be with the boss throughout the entire work day. There was no room for mistakes, especially on your part.

“You’re late,” Matt grumbles as he watches you dump your things onto your desk. You looked frazzled, but he wasn’t going to make an exception for you just because you were his secretary. Sure he’d built a rapport with you from working alongside you all these years, but if he made an exception for you then he’d have to do it for everyone.

“I know, I’m so sorry Mr. Sturniolo,” you reply meekly, avoiding eye contact out of embarrassment. You hated this, you felt like a school girl getting reprimanded for missing homework. If he wasn’t such a strict boss, maybe you’d take the time to explain why you were late, but you knew better than that. He would just see it as an excuse and write you off as a lazy employee.

Matt takes a long look at you, you were wearing a skirt that was definitely not workplace appropriate. He hated how easily he got riled up at the sight of your legs. He looks away immediately, training his gaze on the computer in his desk. “I’ve got a lot of meetings today, Y/n. I need you performing at your best potential, so get it together,” he says sternly, trying to think about anything other than you in that tiny skirt. You finally situate yourself at your desk, adjusting your skirt so it won’t ride up. It’s no use, this skirt was definitely not meant for the office.

“Yes, sir,” you reply, turning on your computer and preparing yourself for the long work day ahead.

—

For the rest of the day you sit in business meetings taking notes and writing down important dates and deadlines. For the most part, you’re really bored, but you were already late today and can’t afford another mistake, so you try your best to pay attention so you don’t miss anything.

Matt sits next to you, watching as you mindlessly take notes on what the presenter is saying. These meetings were very important and it was imperative that he paid attention too, but he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander down to your legs. They’re crossed under the table, your ankle swaying back and forth rhythmically. If he could, he’d crawl under the table and spread your leg-

“Okay, Mr. Sturniolo, you’re up,” the presenter suddenly says, breaking him from his thoughts. Matt coughs awkwardly, adjusting his pants slightly to hide his growing erection. He stands from his seat, taking the remote clicker from the man and continuing the presentation.

Matt knows this information like the back of his hand, it’s all numbers and statistics that he’s memorized over the course of managing such a large company, but as you sit there with your legs on full display he can’t think straight. He stutters throughout the entire presentation and at one point completely zones out with thoughts of you bent over the desk, pushed up against the wall, or even squirming in your seat.

“Sir?” you ask timidly, he’s been quiet for a while and is just staring down at you. His eyes pierce into you, lighting your skin on fire. The other men were looking around confused as to why the presentation stopped.

Your voice breaks him from his thoughts yet again and he coughs awkwardly for the second time. “Would you like me to get you a water?” you ask politely, standing from your seat. As you do this, your legs uncross and Matt catches a glimpse of your lacy underwear. His brain is on fire with thoughts of you.

He forces himself to look away with a clenched jaw as you quickly adjust your skirt. “Yes that would be nice. Thank you, Y/n,” he finally manages to say. You nod your head and excuse yourself from the group of men briefly.

All of the men allow their eyes to wander on your body, taking you in like a tall drink of water. They were all silently wishing they had a secretary like you.

“Pretty girl you got there,” one man comments as he leans forward in his seat to watch you walk down the hall. The skirt ended right above the edge of your ass, lifting slightly with each sway of your hips.

Matt sends him a warning glare before returning back to the presentation.

—

“Don’t forget to book the flights for the company trip. You and I will be leaving two days early to make sure everything is in order. Make sure you account for that, okay?” Matt says as he rapidly walks from the conference room to your shared office. You walk behind him, holding your skirt down with your left hand as your right arm is holding the papers from the previous meeting. Matt needed to walk in front of you or he’d be staring at your ass and legs, unable to concentrate on anything else.

“Are you catching all of this?” He asks, waving his hand in the air to catch your attention.

“Yes sir, I’m just um- I’m struggling with these papers,” you admit, adjusting the stack of papers again so they won’t fall to the floor. He stop his rapid walking and looks back at you, feeling bad for leaving you with the brunt of the work all the time. If he was honest, he was very harsh with you and would often overwork you, but it was because he always found himself staring and admiring at you. If he wasn’t so harsh with you then he’d certainly cross the line of professionalism in your relationship and entire uncharted territory.

Matt takes the stack of papers from you, mumbling a small sorry as he does it. He’s careful not to graze your skin, knowing that your simple touch would send him into a frenzy. He couldn’t trust himself yet, especially not with the skirt you’re wearing. He needs an excuse to get as far away from you as possible right now.

“You can go to lunch.”

“Are you sure? It’s only 11 and I still have to book the fli-”

“Yes. Bring me a sandwich from the deli I like. You can finish that later.”

You’re confused, he never sends you to lunch this early, especially not after business meetings. He’d usually have you type up a report or schedule the next meeting, sometimes he’d even assign you busy work like reorganizing the files or shredding letters. You don’t question it though, you knew better than that. Instead you send him a nod and head out to grab lunch.

As soon as you’re gone he’s relieved, he makes his way into the office, dumping the stack of papers on your desk before slumping down on his chair. He sighs, it’s a sigh of relief, but also of frustration. Everytime he closes his eyes his mind is overtaken with thoughts of you.

The thought of you sitting so close to him everyday, those lacy underwear mere inches from him. Your legs on full display for him, ready to be spread open at any moment. That tiny skirt riding up every time you took a singular step. Even your hands as they expertly typed away on your computer. The thought of you was driving him crazy, he doesn’t know how he survives entire workdays with you so close. If he could have it his way, you would’ve been bent over your desk the second you arrived late to work, for the simple fact that you arrived late. Then he would’ve eaten you out until you were begging him to stop as punishment for wearing a skirt so short. But he’s your boss and he needs to control himself and his thoughts.

His eyes are squeezed shut and his jaw clenched as he tried to think of anything other than you, but no matter how hard he tried his mind always came back to you. His dick twitches at the thought of you pressed up against the wall, your skirt halfway up your abdomen as he fucks into you relentlessly. He thinks about how he’d pick you up and guide you towards his chair where he’d let you do all the work, bouncing up and down on him for hours. Your hair would fall onto your face and he’d have to push it back, creating a make-shift ponytail to use as leverage to fuck into you harder.

His hand starts subconsciously wandering onto his hard, clothed dick at the thought. No one is here to watch him, the door is closed and you’re off on your lunch break, if he’s quick enough he can get in a quick, satisfying release. The idea floats around his head as he imagines you on your knees, face covered in his cum. Your lips would wrap perfectly around him, just like they wrapped around the straws he’s watched you drink from. Then he’d lay you on the desk on top of all the paperwork as he fucked you until the desk broke.

One time won’t hurt, right?

Briefly he looks around the room, making sure no one walks in as he begins unbuckling his pants. This is the first and only time he’s allowing himself to go this far at the thought of you. An adrenaline rush surges through him as he pulls his zipper down, becoming anxious to touch himself. His dick is twitching, precum leaking out as if it’s crying and begging to be set free.

As he’s about to let his throbbing penis free of its constraints, the door opens abruptly, causing him to look up in shock and immediately scoot himself closer into the desk. He tries his best to hide himself under the desk, using the ledge to serve as a shield.

You walk in with a big, kind smile, a bag of food in one hand and two drinks in the other. “Here’s your sandwich, Mr. Sturniolo,” you say, as you place the bag and one of the drinks onto his desk. “They didn’t have the soda you like so I brought this instead, I hope that’s okay. If not I brought another option,” you ramble on, plopping an alternate drink on the table.

His face is red hot and he won’t meet your gaze, “That’s fine, y/n. Thank you.”

“If you don’t like it I can get something else, I just didn’t know which one you’d like-”

“Y/n. You can go,” he interrupts you sternly, embarrassed that he was almost caught. You stand in silence, taking the hint that your boss wanted to be alone. You grab the paperwork from earlier and a pen before dismissing yourself quickly, deciding to work through the rest of your lunch break in the break room.

When you’re gone, Matt lets out another sigh of relief before looking down at his pants. They’re unbuckled, exposing the hem of his underwear. He quickly readjusts himself before looking at the bag of food.

He wasn’t even hungry anymore. All he could think about was you.

—

You’re currently preparing to board the plane for the long awaited company-wide business trip. The trip is to a resort where other major magazine companies will be hosting a week long conference. You and Matt are leaving two days early to ensure that everything is in order. This means that it’s your responsibility to make sure that all the company presentations, spreadsheets, paperwork, informational brochures, documents, and other records are in order. The thought of it stresses you out, you can’t even begin to imagine what Matt would do if even a single thing went wrong.

Even if you’d have some time to yourself in the resort, the thought of actually working made you dread the trip. But you put on your best performance as you walk behind Matt in the large airport in search of your boarding gate. Your suitcase is heavy, filled with all your personal necessities, some casual clothes, and a plethora of work clothes.

“Mr. Sturniolo? I think you might be heading the wrong way. I wanna say that the boarding gate is over here,” you speak shyly, afraid to overstep when speaking with your boss.

“Matt.” he replies, he hates that you call him ‘Mr. Sturniolo,’ it was a constant reminder that he was your superior, your boss. A reminder that you’d never be able to be his unless he fired you or risked a workplace scandal. “I’m sorry?” you ask, unsure of what he meant by that. You knew his name was Matthew, but you’d never called him anything but his last name.

“Please just call me Matt,” he reiterates. After years of working by your side, he’s determined to finally make an impression on you that doesn’t scream ‘I’m your boss!’ You hum in response, finally realizing that he wants you to refer to him by his first name. The thought of being on first name basis with your boss was a little weird, but it humanized him a bit and made him seem less intimidating.

“Okay. Well, Matt I think you’re heading towards the wrong gate.”

He looks around the airport, then down again at his ticket, realizing that he is in fact heading the wrong way. “You���d be right, Y/n,” he replies with a playful grin.

He’s dressed very casually, it’s an outfit that you’d be able to wear to a grocery store, but still lounge around your house in. The look contrasted his everyday attire drastically, he almost looked… normal? He didn’t look like a man who manages one of the largest magazine companies in the world, a man who drives a sports car, a man who has a secretary ready to do what he says when he says it. No, he looks like a man who walks his dog in the afternoon, a man who reads books before going to bed, a man who washes the dishes after every meal. He just looked normal and that made him easier to talk to.

The two of you begin walking to your designated gate, Matt trails behind you and takes in your attire too. You’re wearing a pair of leggings, a fitted top, sneakers, and a cropped sweater. You look great, but the change of style opens his imagination to the thought of you being fucked in a domestic setting. He could imagine you on the couch, by the sink, or even in the shower. He hated how easily his mind wandered into sexual territory, but he loved thinking about it.

You two board the plane quickly. You take the window seat, letting Matt situate himself in the aisle seat. The flight isn’t too long, but you’ve prepared yourself with some activities in case you become bored or restless.

Throughout the entire flight Matt is still thinking about you. All he can do is hope you don’t look down at his lap and see how excited he truly is. Fortunately for him, you’re deeply immersed in a game of sudoku. You’re biting the end of your pen in concentration, your eyes wandering across the page as you try and figure the puzzle out. He wishes you were biting across his skin, or that your lips were occupied with something else…

He takes a look at your lips, then at the page in front of you, “6 goes here.” His finger points to a specific square on the puzzle, breaking you from your concentration. You pause your chewing, processing the information Matt just said. You write in the 6, that singular move solving the entire puzzle for you as you quickly fill in the rest of the boxes.

A big smile is planted on your face, “wanna try?” You extend the book and pen out for him. He doesn’t have anything else to do, so he shrugs and takes the items from you, “sure.” In the process his hands graze against yours, goosebumps raising along his arms immediately. “Okay, well while you do that I’m gonna go to the restroom,” you comment, getting up from your seat so you can head to the back of the airplane.

You shuffle out of your seat, pressing your stomach to the seat in front of you as you try to wiggle out onto the aisle. Your butt briefly grazes Matt’s knee, your thigh touching his inner leg as you weave your way through his legs. “Sorry,” you whisper to him, finally making your way into the aisle. He wishes he could grab a hold of your hips, rip off your leggings, and pull you down onto his lap then and there. Even with all these people occupying the rest of the airplane, he’d fuck you so hard you’d forget how to walk.

His eyes do a once over on your whole body as you walk down the aisle, your tight leggings leaving little to the imagination. A small groan escapes his lips, if this is how he was feeling during the flight how was he going to survive the entire trip?

Matt shakes his head, beating himself up for being such a pervert. He stares down at the sudoku puzzle in front of him, suddenly forgetting all the rules.

—

The resort is huge, much bigger than the resort used for last year’s conference. Every year a different company hosts the conference, this year your company’s top rival was hosting. They were known to show off and pamper their guests, which would explain the grandious size of the resort.

You and Matt walk up to the front desk with your suitcases trailing behind you, ready to check in. The clerk at the front desk offers you both a warm smile as he asks for the name of the reservation.

“Matthew Sturniolo, we’re here for a weeklong event,” Matt replies, taking his ID out for further proof of identification. As you admire the luxurious look of the lobby the clerk looks for the reservation on the computer. When he finds it he immediately pulls out his rehearsed speech before handing Matt a singular key card, “Awesome! Looks like you two will be in a master suite on the top floor. Here’s the keycard, if you have any questions feel free to use your room phone to ring the front desk. We do offer room service which can also be accessed through the room phone. Enjoy your stay!”

Matt waits for another key card, because there should be two rooms, but the clerk becomes preoccupied with the computer once again. “I’m sorry. I reserved two rooms,” he says politely, trying not to lose his temper. If there was one thing he hated it was incompetent workers, and if this worker wasn’t so incompetent he would’ve known that Matt had two rooms. The clerk looks up from the computer briefly before checking again on the reservation status, “Right! Well it looks like the rooms you previously booked were given to two other guests. A lot of people will be visiting us for this conference so they had to move a couple of people around to make room for everyone. That’s why you’ll be sharing a room now.”

You watch as the situation unfolds, ready to step in if Matt became too abrasive. As a secretary, you were used to dealing with mistakes like this and have become an expert at deescalating situations, especially with Matt as your boss. He has a tendency to lose his temper or make snarky remarks and then leave you to deal with the aftermath.

Matt’s about to lose his temper and the clerk can tell so he quickly interjects again, “Don’t worry, sir. The room is very large and is equipped with a Queen sized bed. If you have any issues, we will work with you.”

Matt’s about to say something he shouldn’t, but is stopped by your gentle hand on his shoulder as you speak, “Thank you! We will call if there are any issues.” You grab the key card from the desk and pull Matt away and towards the elevator as you offer the clerk an apologetic smile.

He’s tense at your touch, because it elicits something feral in him, but also because he’s still on edge from the previous conversation. “I’m sure the room is big enough,” you comment once you two are inside the elevator. You can tell he’s bothered, his jaw is clenched and his fists are balled up so tight it causes his arms to flex. Even though he’s clearly angry, he looks extremely handsome right now. If he wasn’t your boss you’d even go as far as to say he looked hot.

“Doesn’t matter. I reserved two rooms, we should’ve gotten two rooms.”

“Yeah, but we’ll make it work,” you say with a smile, trying to remain positive.

“That’s not the point,” he grumbles. The elevator dings with each floor, and each ding reminds him that he’s closer to having to share a room with you for an entire week. If he wasn’t able to contain himself at the office, or even on the airplane, how was he ever meant to survive an entire week with you?

The elevator dings one last time as you reach the top floor, the doors opening slowly to reveal a long hallway. You exit the elevator, Matt following suit behind you as you read the keycard. The keycard reads room #505, it’s all the way at the end of the hall, perfectly secluded in a corner.

This only sends Matt’s imagination more wild, he didn’t know how he was going to keep his hands off of you for an entire week.

—

After getting settled, Matt informs you that there’s a brief introductory meeting that you need to attend. He tells you to dress up professionally because a lot of important people were going to be there and to be prepared to take notes. You know this is a business trip, but a part of you was hoping to relax the first night. With Matt as your boss, you should’ve known better.

The living situation wasn’t that bad, the room was very large, complete with a queen size bed, two closets, and a restroom that had a his and hers sink. Before doing anything else you two got situated, Matt insisted on sleeping on the floor, but after further deliberation you insisted he join you in the bed. You were adults after all, it didn’t have to be weird. He protested at first, but the thought of sleeping in the same bed as you was exciting.

After that, you decided to take a shower. You needed to wash off the jet lag from the flight. While you were in the shower Matt’s brain was going wild with thoughts of you. The water slowly running down your body, being able to see your silhouette through the foggy glass, pressing you up against the glass as he fucked you from behind. He was itching to get up from the bed, barge into the restroom and finally make you his. But he had to remind himself that this was a purely professional trip, that you were only in the same room due to circumstance.

You’re currently lining your lips, adding all the finishing touches to your makeup. You decided on a black dress, it was simple and classy, but still fun. Your hair was perfectly styled to show off a silver necklace and matching earrings, they were actually a gift from Matt. He gave them to you one Christmas, mumbling something about how they were from the company, but in reality he chose them himself specifically for you.

Matt’s been dressed for a while now, waiting for you to get out of the restroom so he can make any last adjustments to his outfit. You’re taking forever though and he still needs to put on is his tie, so he decides to walk into the restroom and use the mirror adjacent to yours.

As soon as he walks into the restroom his eyes are all over you, admiring everything about your face, body, and outfit. He notices you’re wearing the jewelry he gifted you and he makes a mental note to gift you another set.

“You look nice,” he comments nonchalantly, his fingers working expertly to tie his tie around his neck. You smile at him through the mirror, popping on a thick layer of lipgloss before returning the sentiment, “you clean up nice yourself.” Matt sends you a smile of his own, flattening the tie against his button up shirt. His outfit matched yours, it was all black from head to toe. It was a nice coincidence that made you two look almost like a couple.

You reach out your hands to fix his collar, it was popping out slightly. “Lemme fix this,” you whisper, your fingertips grazed against his neck. His breath hitches in his throat as he tried not to look down, he had the perfect view of your chest from where he was standing. He’s in the perfect position to pick you up and fuck you on the bathroom counter. If he wanted to he could smudge your lipstick, and fuck you so hard you cry, ruining your makeup.

“Thanks,” he whispers back, placing his hands on your hips to move you away from the mirror. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, he’s never touched you like that before. Matt tries to focus his attention on his reflection, ignoring his once again growing erection.

You look him up and down, noticing the tent in his pants for the first time. He looks so sexy right now that you want to get on your knees and worship him, servicing his cock until it has nothing left to offer. Then you’d let him pleasure you as you sit on the countertop, his head between your thighs.

You shock yourself with your dirty thoughts, turning abruptly towards the mirror as you try ignoring the sexual tension.

—

The meeting was more of a cocktail party, it was the perfect setting to get to know everyone before the real work started. Most of the people here were men in power, followed around by their assistants, secretaries, and interns. There wasn’t much for you to do but follow Matt around as he introduced you to a few of his colleagues. You remembered most of them from previous business trips, but still did your rounds around the event.

After getting comfortable and introducing you to everyone, the drinks started. You dismissed yourself and wandered off to find a drink for yourself. Matt wasn’t a big drinker, especially not at events like this, but he let himself fall victim to peer pressure. He found himself drinking scotch, whiskey, and vodka with a group of extremely powerful and wealthy men. They were hooting and hollering, engaging in conversation about all the females in their field that they’d fucked. Matt didn’t have any stories to share on the subject, so after a while he bid the men goodbye to look for you.

He was kind of drunk at this point, stumbling slightly as he searched for you. You were at the bar drinking a martini while talking to a man. He, much like you, was an assistant to a very powerful man. The conversation between you two was casual and innocent, but as Matt watched he couldn’t help but feel jealous.

“Does your boss drag you along to boring events like this too?” the man asked, taking a sip of his own drink. You weren’t drunk, but you were getting there. You take a sip of your drink and look around the room, catching a glimpse of Matt in a far corner. He looked upset and drunk. “Mmm yeah, but the job is easy so I don’t complain,” you reply, your eyes trained on Matt’s approaching figure. His nostrils were flared, jaw clenched, and the fabric of his shirt strained against his flexed arms.

“Umm that’s actually my boss there. I better go,” you say, hopping off the barstool. Your dress rides up slightly, exposing more of your thigh than necessary. The man watches as you walk towards Matt without a word, before turning to the bartender and asking for another drink.

“Are you drunk?” You immediately ask Matt once you meet. He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your arm and looping it around his. This is his attempt at leaving the event while looking put together and professional. He dismisses himself from the few colleagues you run into on the way out as he leads you towards the elevator. You play along, but once the elevator doors close you pull your arm away.

“What was that about?”

“Didn’t like the way that guy was looking at you,” Matt replies in a gruff tone. He presses the button to your floor aggressively. “Okay, but why did we have to leave?” you’re feeling feisty, the martinis giving you the daring push you needed to express yourself.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving, I was just looking for you. But when I saw how that guy was looking at you, I decided it’d be better for us to go back to our room.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, crossing your arms, causing your boobs to pop out slightly from your dress. You didn’t need a protector, especially not when the man you were talking to was just being nice. Matt looks at you when you scoff, groaning at the sight of your boobs spilling out of your dress. “Don’t do that,” he instructs drunkenly, pointing towards your arms. You look down at your chest, noticing how exposed you are, but you’re too drunk to care.

“Don’t do this?” you tease, pushing your chest out further. Matt inches closer to you, his face dangerously close to yours. “Stop” he whispers sternly, allowing his arms to rest on your hips as his nose grazes yours. “Or what?” you’re taunting him at this point, trying to see how far he’d go with you. But you’re drunk and so is he, if you two were sober you’d never be this bold.

The elevator rings, signaling that you’ve reached your floor. The sudden sound is sobering, it pulls you both from your trance, causing you to pull away immediately.

The walk to your room is awkward, the sexual tension lingering as you adjust your dress. Were you really about to kiss your boss? You try convincing yourself that that only happened because of the alcohol, you’re too inebriated to act against your natural, feral instincts. You fumble for the keycard in your purse, opening the door nervously before walking in. How were you supposed to sleep next to Matt after that?

“I’ll sleep on the floor, Mr. Sturniolo,” you comment quickly as you sit on the edge of the bed, unstrapping your heels. The use of his last name catches his off guard, “I thought I told you to call me Matt.” You didn’t even realize you reverted back to using his last name, but there must be something telling you to remain professional. For the sake of this trip and for your job.

He’s standing over you, looking down at you with an intimidating look. You look up at him, leaning back into the bed slightly to get a better look at him, “Right. Sorry, Matt.” Whatever awkwardness you felt was quickly dissipating as the wetness between your legs grew. He used his knee to separate your legs, standing in between them as he took ahold of your face.

Matt leans down closer to you, his lips inches from yours as he says, “Make it up to me.” Without another word, he takes your lips in his. It’s a slow and sensual kiss, and your arms fold so that you’re now resting on your elbows. Matt’s now on top of you, his body fitting against yourself perfectly.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” he whispers against your lips, holding himself up with one hand as he allows the other to trace from your face to your chest. He’s admiring everything about you, his fingers toying with the silver necklace around your neck. You’re watching him in awe, you’ve never known a man as sexy as him.

“Matt-“

“Shhh, pretty girl. You can moan my name all night long, but first I need you to do me a favor,” he says, pushing himself off the bed, you prop yourself up eagerly in the process. You watch as he unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants swiftly, pulling them down to reveal his underwear. Your mouth waters at the sight, his dick struggling against the cloth. You know exactly what he wants and you’re ready to comply.

“Open up, pretty girl,” he instructs, whipping his cock out and pumping himself briefly. You do as you’re told, kneeling between him and the bed as you open your mouth for him. His dick is big, but you’re so hungry for him that you don’t question how it’ll all fit.

Matt lets you take control from here, moving his hands to the sides of your face to caress a few strands of hair out of your face. He watches as you take his cock into your hand, pumping it slowly as you kiss from the base all the way to the tip. A groan escapes his lips when you finally wrap your lips around the tip, swirling your tongue around the slit in the process.

He moves his hand to the back of your head, moving his hips closer to you as he pushes himself into your mouth fully. Matt thrusts into your face slowly, using his hand to keep your head in place. Your eyes begin to water, small gag noises following each time he hits the back of your throat. “So good,” he moans, throwing his head back in pleasure as you hollow your cheeks around his cock.

He fucks your face faster, causing tears to brim at your waterline. You look so beautiful under him, taking him without a complaint. This is better than everything he’s imagined, you look so innocent under him with tour hands on your knees, pushing your boobs out for him. The sight alone is enough to make him cum, he pulls out of your mouth completely letting you catch your breath as he feverishly strokes himself.

You don’t miss a beat, moving your face closer to him so you can kiss the base of his cock and suck his balls as he continues stroking himself. He groans at your eagerness to please, pushing your face back and instructing you to open your mouth again. You do as your told, Matt laying his heavy dick in your mouth as his cum decorates your tongue. His moans fill the room as he praises you for taking him so well.

You take him in your mouth again, swallowing the cum in the process, bobbing your head up and down his cock a few times. You kiss his tip, a small whimper coming from Matt. You’re drenched at this point, the only thing you can think about is his dick inside you, your spongy walls clenching around him.

He watches attentively as you stand up seductively from your spot on the floor, your knees are red and your makeup is ruined. You look so sexy, he’s ready to go again. You kiss him, moaning into his mouth as one of his arms wraps around your waist and the other massages the skin right under the hem of your dress.

“Fuck me, please,” you whisper into the kiss. You asked so nicely that it makes his dick twitch.

He doesn’t have to be told twice, instead he guides your make-out session to the restroom where he turns you around so your ass is flush against him. You moan as he pulls your dress down, accidentally tearing the straps in the process to free your boobs. He’s watching you from the mirror, taking in how your boobs bounce with every movement.

Matt’s fingers trace along your chest, slowly reaching your nipples. He pinches your nipples between his cold fingers, eliciting another moan from you. “So beautiful,” he mumbles, trailing kisses from your neck to your shoulder. Your hands hold you up against the counter and your head is thrown back in pleasure, resting against his shoulder as you await his neck move.

One of his hands cups your breast as the other works towards moving your lace underwear to the side. He groans at the feeling of your wet folds against his fingers, you were all worked up and it was just for him. “So wet. Is this all for me?” he asks, locking eyes with you in the mirror. You bite your lip, nodding your head feverishly. All you want is for him to fuck you already.

“Use your words, baby.”

“It’s all for you Matt.”

He seems satisfied with your response because he finally lines himself up with your entrance, letting his tip sit there for a while before fully pushing himself in. You are immediately sent to a state of euphoria at the feeling of him inside of you, breathless pants and moans escaping your lips. Matt moans out your name as every fantasy he’s had about you flashes through his mind, none of them comparing to the sight in front of him right now.

One of his arms is wrapped around your waist while the other snakes around your chest so he can hold one of your boobs. Your head is thrown onto his shoulder as you try to anchor yourself to the counter with your hands. His hips snap back and forth as he pumps in and out of you, causing your body to rock against the counter top.

“You feel so good,” he moans, holding you tighter against him. You’re clenching around him, one of your hands reaching behind you to grab his neck. You turn your face towards him and capture his lips in a heated kiss as he continues fucking into you, his fingers pinching your nipples and massages your breast. You’re moaning his name into his mouth, a string of curse words following as you feel your climax approaching.

He picks up on your queues and doesn’t slow down, kissing you harder as he pushes you past your breaking point. Matt feels you clench around him one last time, a loud, high pitched moan following as you come undone on his cock. He pulls away from the kiss so he can see your fucked out expression through the mirror. You look so sexy, taking him entirely like a good, obedient girl.

He grins at the sight in front of him, pecking your shoulder before grabbing a fistful of your hair and fucking you harder than before. His orgasm is close, and he’s chasing it faster and faster with each thrust. One hand is gripping your hair as the other rests on the small of your back, he watches as your ass jiggles against him with each thrust. You’re whimpering at this point, still very sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“So perfect,” he mumbles. The room is filled with the sound of your whimpers, Matt’s groans, and your skin slapping against each other as he drops his warm, sticky load inside of you. This time it’s your turn to watch him from the mirror, his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is slack as his hips stutter inside of you, breathy moans tickling your back.

“Fuck,” he groans, snapping his hips into you one last time before pulling out of you completely.

Matt’s grip around you is still firm, holding you up so you can balance yourself properly. The two of you catch your breath before you turn to face him, a fucked out look on your face as you smile at him. He smiles too, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you in for a genuine kiss. Not a ‘let’s fuck again kiss,’ but a genuine kiss.

“How am I supposed to work with you after that?” you joke, placing your arms on his chest.

“You’ll manage,” he says with a smirk, pecking your lips again.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Happy Valentine’s Day enjoy this boss Matt story😋Kk byeeeeee

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

#teapartyanonreqs✨💗 #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt x y/n #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo imagine #Matthew sturniolo oneshot #christopher sturniolo x y/n #sturniolo smut #smut #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris x y/n #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo fanfiction #nicolas sturniolo x reader

[sassypossumm]

I Trust You....

A little bit of Coach!Miggy angst to mix it up (I'm so sorry!) CW: infidelity

Miguel's heart sank when he heard the sink running in the kitchen. 

He'd really been hoping you'd still be asleep. 

As quietly as possible, he eased the door shut, cursing when the hinges creaked. 

"Miguel?" 

He groaned inwardly and closed the door. 

"Yeah, it's me." He took a deep breath, and slowly walked into the kitchen. By the looks of how clean everything was, you'd been up for hours. Glancing over your shoulder you took in his disheveled appearance and turned back to turn off the water. 

"You're just getting in." 

"Yeah..." He scratched the back of his head and leaned against the door frame, hoping and praying you weren't wise to him yet. 

Wishful thinking. 

"Go take a shower, Miguel," You dried the last dish. "You still smell like her." His stomach dropped to his feet. 

You knew. 

"Okay." He said simply, shuffling to the bathroom with heavy steps. Of course you knew. He grumbled to himself as he stripped and threw his clothes in the hamper. Somehow you always knew what he was up to. There were times Miguel paused to ask himself who the covert spy really was, you or him? Sighing heavily, he turned the water on and stepped wearily into the shower, closing his eyes. Breathing in the steam, he ran his hand over his face. 

"What am I doing with my life?" He muttered, reaching for the body wash. The one you'd gotten him for Christmas. The one that you claimed made him smell woodsy. The first time he'd used it, you'd shown him just how enthusiastically you liked it. Miguel smiled faintly at the warm memory. You'd both needed a shower, something he hadn't complained about in the least. The smile slipped when he thought about the context of the shower he was currently taking. 

"The call sounded urgent, babe." Miguel had said as he pulled on his jacket. You'd folded your arms and snorted. 

"Oh, I'll bet it did." You'd said wryly. "She's probably urgently wanting you to bone her." Miguel couldn't argue with that logic, it wouldn't be the first time since the divorce Dana had called him under such pretenses. And before he'd met you, Miguel had happily indulged his ex, and on occasion it had been he who'd called her. 

"She was pretty insistent this was about some legal papers, the divorce or alimony." He shook his head. "I don't remember exactly." You'd sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

"I trust you, Miggy." 

The shower head started squealing in protest from the water pressure. Miguel snapped back to the present and lathered his hair. It was a lame excuse he knew, but it just sort of happened. He hadn't had any intention of waking up in his ex-wife's bed. But one drink turned into four, and Dana had gotten handsy, going on about how lonely she was and how much she'd missed him. 

And he'd caved. Like the wuss he was, he'd caved. Scrubbing his scalp to the point of pain, Miguel cursed himself for what felt like the fiftieth time since he'd woken up two hours ago, wrapped up in a woman that clearly hadn't been you. He hated himself. He was a total dick, and he knew he wouldn't blame you if you left. After thoroughly scrubbing Dana's scent from his skin, he turned off the shower, and toweled dry, prolonging the inevitable. 

It wasn't a conversation he wanted to have, but he knew that you had the right to let him have it. And somewhere deep inside, Miguel hoped against hope that you wouldn't be calm and reasonable. He prayed that you'd yell at him, throw something, anything but that calculated stare you got when you shut down. Pulling a worn shirt over his head, Miguel sighed heavily and trudged back into the living room to find you sitting on the couch, reading a book. He cleared his throat. You didn't look up. 

He shuffled further into the room and perched tentatively on one of the armchairs and clasped his hands in front of him, waiting for you to deign to look at him. After a long agonizing silence, you did look up. And his heart jumped into his throat. Impassive and neutral would describe your features best. Not a sliver of anger in sight. 

"Y/N..." You held up a hand. 

"Please don't tell me it didn't mean anything, Miguel." He opened his mouth to respond, but quickly shut it when you gave him that firm look that told him he was in trouble. "It meant something. The question is, what did it mean to you, Miguel?" He drew a blank and stared at you. He tried to form an answer, but none came. 

What had it meant to him? 

"I didn't say no." He said woodenly. You hummed. 

"Yes, that much is evident. But why? You could've come home. You could've walking away, but you didn't. The question is why? Why did you break my trust?" A shiver ran down Miguel's spine at how unnervingly calm and levelheaded you were being. 

"Because I was thinking with my dick." He began. 

"And..." You raised a brow. 

"I didn't want to leave." He finished slowly, letting out a deep breath. You hummed and picked up the book again. Miguel looked at you expectantly, waiting for... he wasn't certain what he was waiting for. "I'm sorry." 

"I know." You flipped the page. Miguel sighed and looked down at his hands. 

"Are you going to say anything else?" He muttered, looking up at you. "I slept with another woman, Y/N." 

"I'm aware of that." You said casually. 

"You're aware, and you're acting like we're deciding where to order take out from!" He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. 

"You broke my trust, Miguel." You closed the book and set it aside. "You put your dick in another woman." He winced at your candid description. "You fucked another woman. You pumped and sweat for another woman. A woman that wasn't me." You looked at him coldly. "What do you want me to say, Migs?" You slipped, using his nickname.

"I don't know." He slumped back in the chair, defeated. 

"You caved to a basal instinct. We're not frogs, Miguel. You made a conscious choice. And I'm dissapointed, and hurt." His heart twisted. Your calculated tone hurt more than any screaming or throwing vases ever could. "I love you dearly, but what you did was reprehensible." 

"I know. And I've got no excuse." He leaned forward, looking at you with desperate eyes. 

"You used each other like fleshlights. And that's disgusting." You spat. And Miguel took it. "Do you love her?" You looked at him, a brief sliver of vulnerability shining in your eyes. 

"Baby, no." He instinctively reached for you but pulled back when you flinched. "I love you." He kneeled in front of you. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me." 

"Then act like it." You paused and took a deep breath. "I need space." You grumbled, grabbing your coat and storming out of the apartment.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel imagine #angst #i'm sorry

[abbyromanoff]

Can I request a top! Jane Banner x fem!reader, with angst,smut and fluff at the end, where, reader is a new police and Jane is her superior & she take a like in reader months later but try to hide it, making reader feel bad then you can do the rest as you want

HATE ME? OR LOVE ME?

PAIRINGS: Jane Banner x reader

WORD COUNT: 3,220

WARNINGS: smut, love hate relationship, kinda enemies to lovers, angst, Jane hiding her feelings, cunnilingus, pet names, r getting stood up, making out, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, top!Jane, fluff, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“That’s the problem, Y/N, you can never do anything right!” The words rang through your mind on repeat. Your superior was the one who spit them, letting her built-up anger rise to the point of overfilling, and you were the one to suffer. You knew she despised you, and if it was up to her, you wouldn’t have been hired in the first place. You didn’t mind, you were used to being disliked throughout your life and came to an acceptance of the fact. And it wasn’t because she was your boss that it affected you so much, it’s because you liked her in ways you shouldn’t like your higher supervisor.

She would watch your every move, each step haunting her mind. You expected it was so she could find an excuse to report you and see you go, but it was really because she just wanted to admire you any chance she had. You wouldn’t understand, which is why she kept quiet. It pained her to see you frown, but she couldn’t let herself get as close as she wanted to. So, instead of remaining neutral, she decided to take her frustration and fill your heart with the hurtful words she’d mutter.

People suggested you report her, but you didn’t want to. You’d rather take the glares than see her separated from you, or even worse, be forced to leave for good. You instead took to ridding yourself of the sleep you needed and thriving on the suffering you enforced, all while she painted your mind. You couldn’t even focus on the comments, only focusing on the beauty that expressed them. That’s what you hated most, that you couldn’t hate her.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but if your other person doesn’t arrive in the next five minutes, we’ll be forced to remove you. Unless you’d like to place your order, that is.” The waiter smiled apologetically, and you guessed he had dealt with this before, a guest being stood up and holding hopes they’d arrive. You were ready to give up and leave with a small apology for wasting their time, that was until you noticed a woman stepping forward.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jane looked in your direction, her eyes widening at your low-cut dress. You looked so beautiful, just like you always did.

“Y/N, nice to see you here.” You rolled your eyes with a groan, handing the menu to the waiter before standing. She furrowed her brows slightly, nodding the man off as you tried to walk past her, only for her arm to grasp your shoulder in an attempt for you to stay.

“Woah, relax now,” She started. “Where do you think you’re going?” You took a deep breath before turning, eyeing the woman with a clenched jaw.

“Home. Why, you going to follow me there too?” She chuckled, releasing her grip when she realized she didn’t have to force you to stay.

“I just might.” There was a short beat of silence before you blew a breath, getting ready to leave before she repeated her actions.

“Alright, what do you want? I’m off work hours, you can’t keep me.”

“Gosh, don’t be such a fucking bore. You got stood up, so I was trying to do the right thing and ask you if you’d like to join me instead.” You didn’t believe her, there was no chance she had good intentions when it came to you. She hated you, why would she ever want to change that?

“What, so you can make up a lie that you need to pee so I’ll end up being stuck paying the bill?” She remained relaxed, refusing to feed into your annoyance and letting you get a reaction. She got hers already, now you were just dying to get some sort of revenge.

“Look, I know we don’t get along all the time-“

“We never do. Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking dick, I’d actually be willing to strike up a conversation with you.” You stated calmly, and she tightened her grip at your interruption. No one interrupts her, especially when you’re beneath her. But, she let it go past her, maintaining a tense smile as she pointed to her seat. There were only two chairs, either she was on a date or was eating alone. And with her lack of empathy, you guessed it was the latter.

“Well, maybe this is me trying to redeem myself. C’mon, you know we both have nothing better to do. I’m waiting for my mother to arrive, and you’re going home alone.”

“How do you know I’m going home alone? Maybe I’m going home to my wife and kids, maybe I’m going home to my family, maybe I’m going home to my cat-“

“Alright, I get it. If you really have places to go then you wouldn’t have been waiting for your date to show up for half an hour. But, if you really don’t want to, then you can leave.” You debated between your options, dinner with a woman who hated you, or going home to imagine being with the same woman. She’d hold you tight on the couch, kiss your forehead while your legs laid across hers. Her soft giggles showing her whitened pearls. Then she’d kiss you goodnight as she tucked you into bed, joining you soon after and returning her arms to their righteous spot around you.

You blinked twice, trying to register that you were in fact forced to live in the present time when all you wanted was to experience the daydreams you escaped through.

“Fine, I’ll stay. But don’t think I wanted this.” She smirked, letting you sit before pushing your chair in. You saw your previous table being occupied by a happy couple and smiled sadly, wishing you were taking their current places. You didn’t care for the view the seat had, but the one they each held was better than anything.

“Can we get the Le Medoc De Cos wine for the table, please?” You failed to understand how she didn’t miss a single beat, she must be a regular.

“Of course, ma’am, is there anything else I can start the two of you with?” He turned his gaze to you respectfully, and you grinned warmly.

“Uh, I’ll just have a glass of water, please.” He nodded and returned to the back where you assumed he was preparing the carefulness of the wine.

“You don’t order water at a restaurant like this, dumbass.” She scowled while her eyes remained on the menu, occasionally letting her eyebrows lift in a small excitement as she read the ingredients.

“Well, I think we both know I don’t have the funds for the wine you got.” It was true, you were only just starting a few months ago and were still considered young by most, it was nearly impossible for you to make the same as her.

“You’re not paying the bill, don’t worry about prices.” Your eyes widened as you looked at her dumbfounded. She lowered the paper and returned your gaze, making you evert your own slightly.

“We’re cutting this in half, I’m not letting you pay the bill and then use it against me for the rest of my life.”

“Oh my fucking God, will you relax with the assumptions? I’m not that big of a bitch, no matter how much you think I am.”

“I would calm yourself on the language, young lady.” Jane turned to see where the voice came from, only to sigh as her Mother came into view. She gave a tight-lipped smile and stood, giving the older woman a small hug and resting her hands on her arms.

“It’s great to see you, Mom.” She brushed her off, pulling out her chair as your boss was left stranded. She gulped, glancing towards you as you gave a small greeting to the guest. She took your hand with a small shake, something Jane rarely saw.

“Sorry for the intrusion, I’m your daughter's coworker and we happened to be dining in at the same place tonight.” She looked to her child for more description, and you feared you spoke wrong.

“Y/N here got stood up tonight and I thought I’d do the right thing and invite her to eat with us, I hope you don’t mind.” The reminder brought a roll to your eyes before you disguised it with a clearing of your throat, catching the attention of both.

“Oh, not at all! It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” The entire dinner went on with minimal chatting, you started to assume you were intruding on their special night. You grabbed your phone, excusing yourself to the bathroom with shaky hands. You refused to lift your gaze for the entire walk until you reached the door. When inside, you placed your hands on the marble countertop and sighed, letting the tension from the week release. Suddenly, you heard the door open with a small squeak and turned, only to see Jane looking back at you.

“Please don’t leave.” Confusion wrote itself across your face before you chuckled softly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“And why is that?” She licked her lips and bit them softly, knotting her arms together as they laid across her chest.

“I can’t stand that woman and I definitely don’t want to deal with her alone.” She admitted, but you didn’t understand her hatred for her mother. You picked up on the small comments throughout the dinner, but you guessed it was playful nature when she’d give a small laugh in response, only now did you realize they were most likely fake.

“And…I guess I enjoy having you there to, you know, ease the awkwardness.” You were planning on cutting the meal short for yourself, but you understood her request. Even if she was technically using you, you didn’t want her to suffer through something like this, you still cared for her.

“Fine, I’ll stay.” She seemed relieved by your response and rushed forward to greet you in a grateful hug, only to come to her senses moments later.

“Oh, right, uhm- sorry.” She gave you one last smile of appreciation before exiting, returning to her awaiting mother.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I was just checking in on them.” She took a bite of the food, instantly regretting the action as the heat filled her senses.

“You know, you two make a really cute couple.” Not only was it hot, but now Jane was nearly choking on the steak. She pressed her fist against her chest a few times before clearing her throat.

“Uh, we’re- we’re not dating, Mom.”

“Look, I know you don’t believe in love, and trust me, after your father, I thought I never would either. But, love comes random, you can’t choose who you fall for. Besides, I may be old but that doesn’t mean I can’t spot the sexual tension between you two.” The sudden outburst sent heat waves to your boss's cheeks.

“Mom! There is no sexual tension between us! They hate me, if anything, I’m a complete dickbag to them.”

“Because you don’t want to accept that your dream of being alone forever is fading into something new. So, please, do me a favor and stop being a baby.” She saw you stalking back out of the corner of her eye and grinned as she stood. Jane was still stuck in thought, her forehead creased together as she, once again, started to bite her lip.

“Well, I believe I should be leaving now. It was so lovely to meet you, dear, I know me and my daughter loved your company.”

“Awh, you’re leaving already?” You brought her in for a short hug while she nodded, turning to her daughter to say a short goodbye. You wondered why she didn’t do the same with her as she did with you, but you brushed it off.

“Alright, I’ll ask the waiter for a box, are you saving your food?” Her Mother was now out of the building and you could get rid of your facade. She shook her head as she came back to her senses, your voice filling her ears as they dinged in excitement.

“Why not get a dessert? I mean, we’re already here, no point in leaving yet.” You eyed her with suspicion and she only pestered on.

“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you? Why are you being nice all of a sudden?” Her mother's words rang in her head once again as she got a true, genuine look at you. She always thought you were a heaven-sent piece of artwork, but now you looked ever more angelic. She didn’t know how you did, but you did.

“I just want to get dessert, is that so bad?” You huffed out a breath and examined the menu, your mouth watering at the descriptions. When the waiter came over, he kindly took your requests along with the papers. There was a silence that roamed over the both of you, Jane found it comforting. She knew you probably didn’t feel the same, but being able to have a moment with her thoughts that filled of you was always her peace.

“Dove chocolate cheesecake for you, ma’am,” She smiled in appreciation and took the dish before he turned to you. “And the chef’s special Tiramisu for you, Miss.” You repeated Jane’s movements, leading him to stand over the table with his hands together in front of him.

“Would you or your wife like anything else before I hand over the bill?” You blanked for a moment, chuckling awkwardly to yourself as you glanced up at him.

“Oh, we’re not-”

“Yes, actually. Would we be able to have a refill of their water, please?” You turned to look at her now, tilting your head to the side as she acted oblivious. He nodded and returned shortly with your new glass and the bill. You examined the total with widened eyes.

“The lady with you paid for half already.” He stated before leaving the two of you.

“Why didn’t you correct him?”

“For what?”

“Don’t play dumb, for saying you’re my wife.” She shrugged with a mouthful of her food, leading you to eventually give up and bask in the flavors the dish greeted you with.

The two of you were walking out of the restaurant, Jane holding the door open for you and leading you to your car. She hoped you parked as far as possible, just so she could get an extra few minutes with you. Her hand longed to interlace with yours, but she held back in fear.

“I hope you enjoyed tonight.” She spoke when you stopped in front of the vehicle she recognized as yours. You nodded with a thin line on your mouth before she said her goodbyes. She turned around with a sigh before stopping herself when she heard your voice.

“Yeah?” She saw you stalking forward, your head down until your body was mere inches from hers.

“I actually did enjoy tonight, thank you for inviting me.” She smiled gently when you lifted your head to glance at her, her impulses failing her as she placed her hands on your hips and drew you in. Her lips touched yours in a soft, searing manner as you sunk into it.

“W-what?” She gulped fearfully, pulling away as your hooded eyes searched hers.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to-” Her words were cut short as you pulled her back in, groaning as her body molded against yours. She placed her hands on your bottom, smiling gracefully as her tongue was granted entrance. She pushed you against the hood of the car, feeling your arms wrap around her neck while your thighs parted enough for her to place her knee between them. You instinctively grinded against the soft skin that greeted you, resulting in a muffled moan to escape.

“Wait-” She furrowed her eyebrows as she rested her forehead against yours, instantly following your request.

“I don’t want to do this here. Will you come home with me?”

Her slender fingers drew in and out of you in a hurry, her hot breath fanning across your face as you mumbled out pleas. She found her gaze falling to the connection between you two, shuddering as your tight hole accepted a third digit. Your legs wrapped around her form, your chest heaving with every inhale. Your nipples hardened from the gush of wind before a gasp left you, Jane’s wet mouth finding it as her free hand led yours to the neglected breast. You toyed with the hard bud, fluttering your eyes shut as you bit your lip.

“No, let me hear you, baby.” She dreamed of hearing everything you released, she wasn’t going to let that be stripped away from her.

“Jane-” Her name wasn’t her favorite word, but hearing your soft whine made it a blessing to her eardrums. Her clit throbbed in delight, begging to meet yours.

“Yeah?” Her jaw was now resting on your shoulder, her lips right next to your ear as she left pecks down your neck. She hoped they’d leave a mark, just so everyone would know you belonged to her now. But, in reality, you always have.

“Need to cum- fuck! I need it so bad.” Your fingertips came to scratch at her scalp softly, your legs starting to shake the closer you got. Your coil tightened the more you held back, yet it begged to let go.

“I need you, Jane.” The stumbled sentence brought a stall to her movements. She only continued her thrusts when a whine bounced off the walls, the creator being the person beneath her.

“I know, I need you just as bad, darlin’.” She felt liquid spray against her crotch as you cried out, clawing at any part of skin you could grapple onto.

“Oh, God, ‘feels ‘o good!” Your babbles brought a dark chuckle to the woman. She thrived on the fact that she was the reason you were like this. You were no longer crying from her harsh words, you were crying from how good she made you feel.

“No, no, we’re not done just yet,” She informed when noticing you tried squeezing your legs shut.

“Don’t be embarrassed, love, I find it so fucking hot that you squirted for me, makes me so, so wet.” Your cheeks reddened, your eyes unable to meet hers when her finger came in contact with your chin. You hadn’t noticed her pulling out of you, the bliss of the moment being too heavy for your mind to keep track of your surroundings.

“Don’t you taste fucking heavenly?” She forced you to suck the sweet nectar coating her digits, chuckling as you gagged when they hit the back of your throat. You moaned around them, suckling every last drop.

“Spread ‘em, angel,” You whimpered, shaking your head in disagreement. “I said, spread ‘em, you can take another, you will.” You obeyed slowly, feeling her fingers instantly spreading your folds as her tongue came in contact with your sensitive bud.

“More, baby, I want you to struggle.” Her lips instantly wrapped around your clit, the sounds of your juices being evident as she sucked harshly.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

#jane banner #jane banner x you #jane banner smut #jane banner x y/n #jane banner fanfiction #jane banner x reader #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff comfort #wind river #wind river fanfiction

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR THINGS FRIENDS SAY TO EACH OTHER *  assorted dialogue for a multitude of friendly and platonic conversations and situations ranging from soft to dramatic, adjust as necessary

of course i love you. you're my best friend.

i really couldn't do this without you.

did you just call me your best friend?

that's what friends are for.

if you know me so well, what's my favorite color?

remember when they mistook us for siblings?

you're the only person i've ever trusted.

i know i can count on you for anything.

do you approve of them?

there's nothing i wouldn't do for you.

if something was wrong, i would tell you.

i can tell when you're lying.

okay, now tell me the truth this time.

i'm not leaving you behind.

i don't know what i'd do if i lost you.

let's not fight like that again.

i always knew you would accomplish amazing things.

that wasn't fair of me to say to you.

i'm sorry i upset you.

i know everything about you.

maybe we should go someplace fun.

will you be in my wedding?

we've been friends for years. you think i didn't know?

i figured you'd tell me when you were ready.

you called me your best friend.

if it matters that much to you, we'll do it.

i just want you to be happy above all else.

you deserve a whole lot better, you know.

i wish you could see yourself the way i see you.

you've always been there for me, no matter what.

i'd risk my life to save you.

we need a girls trip.

i know you better than you know yourself.

you don't think i can tell when you're lying?

you can't get anything past me.

as your best friend, i have to step in.

that's wrong, and you know it.

i love you, but not in that way.

we need to get out of here. just us.

you mean the world to me.

you deserve better than the way they treat you.

i think i have a right to express my honest opinion when it comes to my best friend.

the only way we survive this is if we work together.

you trust me, don't you?

we could sit for hours in silence, and i'd still love the time we spent together because it was with you.

i can tell you anything, and you won't judge me.

maybe we should take a trip together, just us.

i'm so happy for you and the life you've created.

you know me so well.

one day we'll end up in rocking chairs on a porch together, complaining about everything.

you're like a sister to me.

you're like a brother to me.

you're practically family at this point.

if you asked me to help you hide a body, i would.

no one messes with my best friend.

excuse me, but i'm your best friend. i think i have a right to know.

i've known you all my life.

i hate it when we fight.

#mcflymemes #mine #friendship prompts #rp prompt #rp meme #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #ask meme #rp starters #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #best friend prompts #best friend memes

[atlasnessie]

or — loving beastzai

cw: mild mentions of blood

the text you’ve gotten from chuuya wasn’t anything new. dazai had come back to the port mafia headquarters late, far past midnight, soaked with blood that was both his and not. the executive urges you to come and take care of him.

the walk inside the building didn’t concern you. people took a step out of your way as you went up the elevator and into the office of your lover, the doors swinging open with a swift tug by a few guards you were posted by the room. there, dazai stood in the middle of the room gazing out one of the large windows and into the streets and port of yokohama, clothing stained with scarlet red, his bandages discolored with an unrecognizable shade you swore you’ve never seen on bandages and gauze.

the doors close behind you as you stand silently, your nightwear making you feel slightly out of place of osamus rather professional attire. without turning to face you, dazai cracks his dry lips open, words barely a whisper.

“you should be at home.”

you can’t respond, unable to find the words that you should say. instead, as if it was a routine set by destiny and fate, you walk past dazai with the soft shuffle of your shoes on the red carpet and go behind dazai’s desk and open a large closet, crouching down to find a first aid kit that you had placed for occasions such as this. you stand up with the kit in your arms, then look towards your lover, who’s eye is locked with yours. your soft, tired eyes tell him to take a seat, words without the struggle of saying them.

dazai walks slowly to the desk, sitting on his seat with his back straight. you place the kit down on the large dark wooden table and slowly peel off his coat with your sleeves rolled up. crimson stains your hands slightly as you do so, dropping the coat on the ground and opening the kit with a hand. you pull out a small towel, wiping any blood that was yet to be dried and crusted on the exposed parts of his back, shoulders, and neck. you stop and look at osamu with a gentle look, tugging on the bandages on his neck gently.

“can i ..?”

“you know you can. don’t need’ta ask.”

“just making sure.”

with soft, feathery hands, you peel off the bandages off his neck, the blood making the fabrics heavier than usual. as dazai’s neck and body unravels, you pick the towel up again, wiping the sweaty blood off.

“youre gonna need to take a shower when we get home. not everything is coming off …” osamu hums in response, his breathing shallow and simple.

home. he hasn’t been home in a while. most of his nights resided in the grim darkness of the port mafia. he hadn’t been home to you and your embrace in a few week, his arms had nearly forgotten your touch, warm and gentle, like another to their newborn child.

dazai lifts a hand up to his bandages eye and tugs on it, unraveling it and allowing it to fall on his lap. shifting your eyes, you peak to see both of his eyes. dark and void-like. you couldn’t read them as well as he read your own.

“we don’t have to talk about it. i know you’re trying to think of an excuse, osamu.”

he whispers a sorry.

after a few more minutes of wiping off any blood you could, you place the towel down and sigh. your hands smell metallic and osamu reeks of death. silently, you start to clean up, separating unused things back into the medical kit and blood soaked towels and bandage rolls out of the way.

“you should be at home,” osamu starts again. “you hate the port mafia headquarters. you hate the violence here.” his head shifts to you, lifeless eyes staring into yours.

“so why are you here ?”

“because,” you said with a matter of fact tone. closing the kit, you place it back into the closet and close the doors to it. “i love you.”

“don’t do any of this out of love.” with the shift of the chair, dazai is now face to face with you. a cold, shaky hand reaches out for your warm cheeks.

“i don’t wanna make you uncomfortable with all this, love.”

his voice is soft and mellow, different from how he usually speaks to you. you can’t help but shake your head, a slight smile on your lips.

“i’m okay as long as you’re okay.”

the room goes silent once again. dazai can’t bring himself to respond back, a foreign tug of guilt twirling with his heart. your hands are stained with red, dazai can see. there are dark shades of crimson under your nails and slightly staining your nightwear. he feels terrible. he can’t help it. and yet …

to see a soft smile on your face as you clean him up, the blood soaked coat staining the red carpet below him, he can’t help it but feel as if you being in this world, with him as you are in the other, is fate. destiny itself.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs dazai #bsd dazai #osamu dazai #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #dazai x you #beast dazai #beast dazai x reader #atlas writes !