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writerpeach · 23 hours

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Fantastic Breasts and Where to Find Them

aespa Karina x m!reader

10k words

"What time is it?" Karina asks as she stumbles into the kitchen, a half awaken mess, dark locks all disheveled in a white top and tight shorts. "Jesus, my fucking head..."

"Nearly one."

"Shit," Karina hisses. "I had a test in the morning, didn't you hear my alarm go off?"

"You think I can hear anything over you snoring?" you ask, glancing up with a playful smile as Karina sits opposite you at the kitchen table, resting her face in her palms. "You barely made it inside before I had to lug your body onto the couch.”

"Hey, I don't snore," Karina scoffs, giving you a dirty look with bleary eyes as she runs fingers through her messy hair in a feeble attempt to look presentable.

"Oh, of course you don't. Which is why I could hear you all the way upstairs. Pretty sure the entire neighborhood could."

"Shut it," she snaps back with as much bite as she can muster, though can't keep that grimace on her features for long before a tired grin escapes. "The last thing I remember is Yizhuo holding my hair up while I—well, you don't need to know the rest."

“Sounds like you had a fun night.”

"Fantastic," Karina responds with all the sarcasm she can manage. Her gaze immediately turns towards the coffee maker—the only thing that matters during this hellish hungover state.

“Coffee should still be warm,” you say, not missing a beat. “But take this first, it'll help."

Karina eyes the two painkillers in your hand with a grateful look as she scoots forward and reaches to accept a glass of water, tossing her head back a bit before chugging it all a single gulp.

"You're a lifesaver. I'm so embarrassing, you shouldn't have to keep taking care of me. Thank you," she says with a quick smile, gently placing the empty glass down, then heading straight for the coffeepot.

"Don't worry about it. It's what I'm here for."

"You should have been there last night then, maybe could have kept me in check. I'll never drink that much ever again."

Karina cradles a freshly poured mug of hot coffee as she makes her way back to the table, taking a seat ever so carefully, trying not to fall over in the process. She rubs her temple in gentle circles, feeling like absolute hell as she tests the coffee with a sip of uncertainty.

"You've said that the last couple times," you tease, leaning back in your chair as you focus back on your laptop screen and the paper that you’ve been working on all day. "You know that's not really my thing. As much as I enjoy watching other people make an idiot out of themselves."

"At least I could have had someone to talk to. The only person I knew was Yizhuo, and she was so busy making out with anyone with a pulse that I didn't say more than three words to her."

"Yizhuo?" you ask.

"You've met her, haven't you? She's one of my best friends."

"Don't think I have."

"Right, well—she'll sleep with anyone that so much looks at her," Karina chuckles as she savors the delicious warmth of coffee down her throat. She takes another careful sip and her eyes close, wondering if the throbbing in her head will ever subside.

"She's learned from the best, I suppose."

"Hey!" she says, faux offense laced in her tone, placing down her mug. "Don't compare me to that slut. I've got standards at least."

"Really?"

“I'll have you know, I don't sleep with everyone,” Karina huffs, turning her face away to sip at her coffee some more, but you can't resist the urge to tease her even further in her current state. "Just a few lucky guys. Sometimes two at once. Or three. But nothing crazy, I'm not a slut."

"Wouldn't dare even think of using that word on you, Rina."

"See, not like Yizhuo at all, not desperate and willing to suck and ride anything in sight. Besides, it's been like over a month since I've last gotten laid,” she says, out of nowhere. You let out a dry laugh, unable to believe your ears. It's strange, seeing Karina's pale skin so flustered, because clearly even she can’t buy that.

“I’m serious!”

"The walls say otherwise, you know. You're a terrible liar, Rina." From first hand experience, you know how thin these walls are—being able to overhear her muffled cries of ecstasy, every vulgar utterance from Karina's room, each time she sneaks home a stranger who has the absolute honor of getting to pound her senselessly.

"W-what, I'm not!" Karina blurts out, face getting even redder, so frazzled with that thought. "That—you were probably just hearing all that porn you keep on your laptop. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about the weird, kinky shit you’re into.”

Pausing for a moment, she gives an impish grin, so pleased with herself for trying to turn things around. You could call her bluff, but even better, you’ll come up with one of your own, something equally preposterous and absurd.

"Me? I don't even watch porn," you say somehow with a straight face, and it's such a ridiculous statement you can hardly finish getting the words out. Karina puts her mug down and brings her arms over her chest, letting out a small sigh before glaring across the table.

"Is that so? Now who's the terrible liar?"

"Believe what you want. This laptop is for school work only. Nothing else."

"Didn't realize I was living with such a prude," Karina says, as a teasing grin slides along her features. "All those times I've brought home a guy to fuck my brains out—I guess I've been making you feel extra uncomfortable."

"No, not at all, Rina. I just focus on my studies instead of how loud I can hear you scream through the walls. Noise-cancelling headphones do wonders," you say, doing your best to keep a stoic expression on your face. But Karina isn't having any of your bullshit. Not when she's sitting across from you with a smug look and trying her damndest to get you to break this facade.

"Look," Karina sighs dramatically, turning her head to face you directly. "There’s no fooling me. You don't have to act like you don’t enjoy listening to me getting railed. And you'd be lying if you told me you've never been turned on from all that. Just admit you've touched yourself to the sounds of it, and we'll leave this alone."

"Can't say I've done that either."

"Stop—" Her brow arches in frustration, and she can't even hide the smile beginning to break along her lips. "I get it, you're a better liar than I thought. You don’t have to keep pretending."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You think you deserve an award for not laughing your ass off at this point, but it's an ongoing struggle to keep this going. The best part is that Karina is so insistent on it, completely unwilling to let this go until she gets you to admit that she's caught you.

"Oh, come on, you've jerked off at least once or twice while listening to me, don't play dumb. Like you said, the walls are thin. I can hear when you're getting off too, you know."

"You've got a wild imagination, Karina. I've done nothing of the sort. The only thing I care about is getting a good night's sleep and graduating with honors."

"Fuck that, no one can study constantly. If it wasn't for me getting railed on the regular, I wouldn't even survive. I'd probably drop out and become a bartender or something. Getting dicked down does wonders."

"Everyone has their own ways of dealing with stress. Sex obviously isn't mine."

"Stop, you're such a fucking liar," Karina almost yells, frustration bubbling up as her arms cross even tighter, unable to stop the laughter that slips out. "There's no way that you're studying, what, seven days a week, without getting yourself off? Everyone has horny thoughts, especially guys. I know there are hot girls in your classes, there's no way you aren't fantasizing about them."

"I’m not. Too busy learning about the wonders of—"

"Shut the fuck up," Karina snaps in the most exaggerated tone, leaning forward, trying her hardest to hide her smile and fight whatever antics you keep coming up with. The longer this goes on, the more she breaks out into giggles. It's rather amusing seeing her get worked up like this, the little scrunched face she pulls and the exasperation that oozes from every word, knowing you aren't telling the truth one bit.

"You're not that studious. I've lived with you long enough to know that you're not the nerdy type. I'm right, I know I've seen you come home late. Don't deny it!"

"There's a really nice coffee shop that's by campus open rather—" you begin to say, not exactly sure how you haven't broken down laughing by now.

"Don't you dare tell me you're studying at one in the morning instead of getting your head trapped between some pretty girl's thighs," she interrupts in an instant, gaze piercing right through you. And no longer can you keep a straight face for another second longer, looking away to stop from grinning. But that might be a mistake. As you happen to glance back, Karina gets up out of her seat, this devilish expression as she strides around the table towards you. "If you aren't gonna be honest—maybe I'll just have to get the truth out of you."

Before you can even react, Karina swipes up your laptop with lightning speed and slams the lid shut, not caring for anything else as she drops her weight in your lap. It takes you by surprise, and by now, she has to know how close you are to breaking, deciding to pull out all the stops to try to win her little game of bullshit. "Oh, so you've suddenly gone mute."

And Karina gets impossibly close, staring into your eyes, enough so you have no other option but to look directly in her deadly gaze. She wraps her arms around the back of your neck, resting her hands there, a smirk curling up her lips as she tries to break your resolve all at once.

The way she looks at you is unbelievably seductive, which might be the reason your heart beats faster, with how gorgeous she is up close. That confident little smirk refuses to leave her lips, the scent of her perfume strong in the air, making everything more difficult to endure. It's impossible for you to hide all your weaknesses. And even more impossible to stash your sudden shyness while Karina traces light patterns upon your neck as she lets out another giggle when you start avoiding her eye contact.

"You're cute when you're nervous," she says, that deep voice dripping with nothing but sin and seduction as she takes your chin, lifting you towards her. It's difficult to look away or hide, with her looking right into your eyes—a sharp, penetrative gaze that you can’t flee from, especially not when she gets this close, feeling her warm breath on your skin.

“Tell me—where's that confidence from a few minutes ago gone? A pretty girl sitting on your lap is all it takes for you to break?" Karina purrs against the shell of your ear, lips hovering dangerously close.

You stay silent, muscles all tensed up, breathing audibly and wanting nothing more than to pull away. And it only gets worse when her fingers run lightly through your hair, messing it up playfully as her breath lingers. "Hm? Still not talking? When did you ever get shy with me?"

Karina knows she's won.

As she presses up against your chest, drawing ever so slightly nearer, it's in that brief second when the warmth of her body against yours completely overwhelms you. There's no defense left against her little game of interrogation.

"Let's be real, I know you're jerking off every chance you get, especially when I have a dick inside me," she coos with the most angelic smile you've ever seen, eyes brimming with delight, her touch following the path of your body and taking pleasure in seeing all the little reactions she steals from you.

"But there's nothing wrong with that. Hell, I want you to. The thought of you stroking your cock with the image of me naked and getting fucked turns me on. Knowing my loud moans and screams are the perfect inspiration for your orgasm—that makes it all better, doesn't it?" Karina brushes her lips right into the crook of your neck as she whispers all these obscenities, making damn well sure you hear every single word.

You’ve completely frozen up. It’s not like you to be so demure, but also this isn’t like Karina.

"Oh, you wish it was you, don't you?” Karina asks, memorizing every detail in your expression. ”Poor thing, being stuck as my roommate—having to deal with the fact you aren't fucking me from behind, playing with my tits, and smacking my ass hard until my cheeks sting."

Seeing the clear frustration in your expression puts a smirk on her face again, experiencing the thrill of finally having the upper hand on you. Karina knows she has all the leverage, right here, right now.

"I know you're not the least bit innocent. Not with the way you looked at me when you saw me in nothing but a towel, fresh out of the shower, my naked tits still wet. I bet that made you jerk off right away, didn't it?"

"R-rina—" You finally manage to utter out her name after some considerable struggle, at a complete loss for words. Because this isn’t at all how you expected this to go, but she's right about every single detail, and you find it harder and harder to deny it.

"What is it, sweetie? Have something you wanna say? Wanna tell me the truth? That you fantasize about me all the time, don't you?" And Karina keeps leaning in closer, getting all the answers she wants before you can speak another word.

"Y-yeah, I—"

"Use your words. You can do that for me, can't you? Tell me all the things you can't stop thinking about."

"Fuck, Karina—it's the only thing I think about in the mornings. And at night. Every single day. Even when you haven't had anyone over in a while, I just think about fucking you, what that body looks like naked, how those huge tits would look bouncing in my face.”

You’ve cracked. And there’s no going back now.

"Go on, don't stop there, sweetheart. It's too late to be shy now." Karina smiles so pleasantly and cups your face to keep you from looking anywhere else, her tone immediately shifting. "Tell me you wanna fuck me. You want my tight pussy to swallow up your cock until I can't walk properly tomorrow. You've always wanted that, right?"

"Y-yes, god yes, that's—that's what I want. Wanna bury myself deep inside you, squeeze those perfect tits and fuck you so hard until I unload everything inside."

"See how easy that was? Turns out you’re not very innocent after all, are you?" And Karina seals your confession with a deep kiss, drawing you into a rather warm, heated embrace as she nips at the bottom of your earlobe, giving it the lightest tease before letting go.

"Let's give you everything you've ever wanted, sweetie."

Karina tears herself from the kiss, just so she can run her tongue along your bottom lip and get another taste for herself. A slight pant, and she doesn't waste another minute getting rid of her shirt, exposing her bare skin and massive tits no fabric can contain.

Your pants, they grow tighter in an instant. Those huge tits, the deep cleavage—they're nothing but hypnotic. Karina watches you stare with wonder for several long moments before unhooking her bra to get the entire picture. You swallow hard, eyes going wide as her breasts spill out from their restraints, pale and so fucking perfect, and god, you can't even think straight from how absolutely delicious they look.

Karina leans back to unveil her bare breasts in full view, and even the slightest movement makes them bounce gently. They're practically begging to be touched, and there's no hope of looking away. "Are they everything you ever imagined?"

A nod comes almost automatically in response, captivated by those enormous mounds with the prettiest nipples you've ever seen. Your roommate takes hold of your wrists and leads you to feel every last inch of her luscious pair, right where she knows your fingers want to go.

"Go on, show me exactly what you've always dreamed about, sweetie." Hardly able to believe what’s happening, you take the plunge as you indulge, these tits soft and supple in the palm of your hands. The full weight of her breasts is everything, Karina exhaling a breathy whimper when you massage them with a perfect grip, lightly squeezing, testing their sensitivity.

“You don't have to be gentle. You've wanted to play with these tits so bad, right? Don't hold back now,” Karina says with such a sweet voice. So you take her permission to heart, getting two full handfuls of creamy flesh to squeeze greedily and grope to your heart's desire.

You’re practically speechless. Nothing could ever match the way they fill your hands when you knead them, fingers digging into all that flesh to press them together, only to release and have them bounce, this recoil that seems almost unreal.

"God, these tits—they're fucking incredible, you know that?"

"Oh these? I’m sure all those times you'd peek down my top gave me a clue you’d love them. And you haven't even had them in your mouth yet," Karina says as she reaches for the back of your head. In an instant, she shoves your face right into the delicious valley of her pale breasts, suffocating you with all the softness and warmth of her plentiful chest provides. Her huge tits completely consume your vision, and there is no fighting the urge to lick a stripe down that cleavage to take in the first taste.

It only gets better as she encourages you, tightening fingers in your hair when you run your tongue around her stiff little nub before closing your lips around it, capturing it to suck softly. A delightful shudder rocks her, gasping loudly, and Karina guides your movements, keeping your attention spread out across both breasts to ensure the other isn't getting left behind.

"Good boy," she hums with all the satisfaction in the world, gripping harder when she presses you back into her chest, helping you indulge in this buffet that's been laid out before you. "You’ve been waiting forever for a chance to suck on these tits, haven’t you?"

You refuse to answer with words, replying instead with more frantic sucking, the nipple between your greedy lips growing wetter and wetter. But your free hand stays occupied, as you squeeze the other breast not in your mouth not so gently, sinking into the softness even further. Hungrily, you move between them, feasting on those divine tits to satiate all of your desires, and you’ll suck on them forever if she'll let you.

There's no better treat than the way she feels in your palms and all over your lips. Not now—not while all this lust floods your veins. Not while she whimpers, your actions gaining speed, faster and faster to keep Karina's sensitive nipples trapped in your lips and suck harder. She lets out her moans, a gorgeous sound that echoes, and you can feel every vibrating sound rippling through her ample chest.

"Jesus, your mouth is amazing," she breathes through all the gasps and the moans, all those noises a pure sign of encouragement that drives you forward, until you need a moment to draw a desperate breath. It doesn't stop there. You resume immediately, introducing a bit of teeth to nibble down into the smooth, pink buds, because like you've been told, there's no need to be gentle. Not when Karina clearly prefers it like that, tugging a fistful of your hair, hoping you'll get the message to apply just a little bit more pressure.

All of this attention you're giving her gets Karina nice and bothered, mouth hanging open as she pants to control her breathing. You could stay here forever, happily settled with a pair of tits stuffed into your mouth. Maybe she lets you. Maybe you spend an eternity exploring that delicious rack, because it can never truly satisfy your craving for them.

"Mmm, feels so fucking good," is how she answers your teeth dragging across those wet nipples, whining when it suddenly leaves, depriving her of your lips just you can stare longingly at the swell of her heavy breasts once again.

You have to admire your work on her sensitive breasts when you pull back, swimming in bliss as you see the sight of them glistening with your saliva, nipples so visibly hard and drenched now. There's no denying how much you love having Karina's huge tits all to yourself, how you just want to drown in all this soft, pale flesh.

"Don’t tell me you’re done already?" Karina asks, disappointment in her tone while she strokes the back of your head. "I can feel how fucking hard that cock of yours is from just sucking on my tits…"

Once again, you have no response, still lost in a fog of lust as you squeeze those supple mounds, giving another tender lick to those nipples covered in spit to get the smallest gasp from her lips. "I could play with your big fucking tits all day.”

Karina giggles, content to let you do just that. "Well, you've earned that, sweetheart. But I think we should move this to the bedroom, so we can get more comfortable, and maybe you can get me out of these clothes?”

"Yeah—right, bedroom," you repeat, distracted by how tantalizing her perfect tits look still soaked with your spit. She laughs and offers up a hand to help pull you to your feet, taking the chance to sneak another kiss before you get too far apart.

You’re dragged along up to her room, left to gawk over her body as you follow obediently. Those shorts are just a bit too tight to hide any details of her curvy ass, which sways rhythmically with every last step. The second the bedroom door shuts behind you, Karina pulls you right into another embrace, a hot and needy kiss, your hands finding their place on her slender waist you plan to become familiar with.

"Get me naked like you've always fantasized," Karina says the instant your lips separate, heading towards the bed without waiting for your response. You don't have to be told twice, too eager to find out how the rest of her body compares as she bends over, placing her hands on the sheets.

The scene in front of you sends a rush of anticipation, and immediately, you reach for those ridiculously tight shorts, pausing a moment only to feel just how firm Karina's butt is under them. This all feels like a dream, one that you hope stays a reality as your eyes aimlessly wander all over this flawless skin.

Her huge breasts push into the mattress, so soft and inviting, fighting for your attention from that backside, and this is already so overwhelming, before you’ve even seen what’s underneath here.

"Taking your sweet time, hm?" she teases, rolling her hips ever so slightly, hoping to hurry your pace, a hint you gladly take without an ounce of hesitation. Undoing her zipper takes only seconds, and Karina's smooth, pale thighs become more exposed as you gradually peel her shorts down inch by inch. The curve of her ass nearly spills out from the pink thong you've seen for the first time, and this sight is almost as breathtaking as her massive chest.

"Only get to do this for the first time once."

“You poor thing. Guess I can’t blame you.” Slipping out of her shorts with ease, Karina makes them drop to the floor where they can be easily forgotten. You're left frozen in awe at the perfection of her full, plump ass that looks far too good in this thong, and those creamy thighs that must feel like heaven wrapped around your head.

"Come on, take my panties off too. You want a full view of this all, don't you?" Once you're done admiring her shapely ass, Karina turns her gaze over her shoulder, that smile far too much to deny. And as much as you want to keep staring, your hands already move on their own, desperate to finish what you've started.

Running your fingertips under the waistband, you tug that thin fabric right off, to reveal the fullness of those scrumptious cheeks and that pink, glistening pussy that looks too mouthwatering to resist.

Now it all comes together.

Karina is flawless, every deadly curve, every inch of milky white skin exposed, giving you yet another reason to stare at that sinful figure. There's no fighting the urge to squeeze what your fingers can sink into, taking a nice handful of her shapely rear that you can’t take your eyes off. It's an addiction without a cure, groping those juicy cheeks that are the definition of perfection, and you can't decide which part of her you want to worship the most.

"Such a pervert," Karina giggles, and this time you can’t say you disagree with that.

"Never said I wasn't." There's no point in denying what she clearly already knows, not when you can't look anywhere else. Not after being denied the privilege of her body until this moment—you've got some time to make up.

"The first time you've seen me naked and all you can do is stare?" Karina quirks an eyebrow, putting her hand on her hips, to display that body deserving of all the praise you can give her. She closes the distance between the two of you in just a few short steps, grabbing hold of the collar on your shirt. "How about you show me something too while you're drooling?"

There's no hesitation on your end, knowing what’s expected as you pull your shirt over your head and drop it on the ground to join her clothes. Karina runs a fingertip along your bare chest, an approving smile spreading over her lips while her eyes glance over you carefully, this newfound hunger in her eyes.

"Much better," she says, and now you're the one who's being gawked at, shirtless, under the gaze of your undeniably stunning roommate who can't help herself from exploring your body. You can’t say you don’t mind the attention at all.

She traces the outline of your biceps, grazing along your shoulders, then down to your abdomen, leaving a faint, teasing touch to test the reaction she receives. And then, with no warning, those fingers move lower to palm your growing bulge so blatantly straining through your pants.

"You're so fucking hard, it must be painful. But this time, I can help you with that. What do you wanna do with me, sweetheart?"

Where do you even start? Never did you expect to be caught in a moment like this, your roommate fully naked, stroking her hand along the length of your clothed cock, ready to finally do something about this pent-up tension she's caused. The possibilities are endless—but when Karina is looking at you like this, her fingers making your cock throb, waiting for you to choose, it's hard to think straight.

"Can't decide? I don't blame you. But don't worry—I know just what we can start with." You don't have time to guess as Karina takes the lead and pushes you back towards her bed, patting the mattress. "Be a good boy and sit here, and I’ll take care of you."

Karina drops to her knees ever so slowly and licks her lips. Before you realize what's going on, she's pulling down your pants, boxers falling shortly after, and now she can see exactly what you were hiding underneath, this hard shaft that's been desperate to spring loose.

"Oh my god, your cock—it's gorgeous, sweetie," Karina gasps, staring right at your stiff shaft twitching impatiently just for her.

There's barely a chance to process everything happening before she reaches forward, running a curious finger up the underside of your cock and watching the resulting shudder. Those pretty fingers wrap around your aching length, and Karina smiles up at you with pure delight in her eyes as she jerks your cock slowly, discovering all these new reactions you make.

"Karina," you gasp out, almost choking, a shiver running down your spine at that light stroke—almost too fleeting for it to bring any pleasure. She repeats, with more enthusiasm, tightening her grip and using the clear liquid that leaks out to aid the movement of her fingers.

"Look at you, so fucking hard, throbbing so much for me. You like that? My hand wrapped around your cock?"

Karina has this look on her face that has no business being that damn innocent, not with those fingers squeezing you just right, or those huge breasts that shake ever so slightly with each pump of her fist. When she begins to pick up the pace, working you faster, twisting her hand up and down the length of your hard shaft, the urge to do anything but moan becomes near impossible. “You really do, don’t you? Well then, how about this—“

A string of spit falls onto your cock, smearing over her palm to slicken your shaft. She leans down to part her lips, hot breath hitting your shaft for the first time as she takes the entire head in her mouth and starts to gently suck, tongue working right behind.

"Shit, oh my god, Karina—“

She’s got you in her sights, and there's nothing to do but surrender completely to the pleasure, eyes locked with her as she keeps those lips sealed tight, the wet warmth of her mouth engulfing you little by little. Karina's response comes in an instant, bobbing her head, slurping down on your shaft so greedily, showing all the appreciation you’ve earned.

It's when her gaze flickers upwards to see your expression that it really becomes the death of you—the sight of her staring, with her round doe eyes, sucking and lapping around your shaft so eagerly is just too much to take. And if that wasn’t enough, her cheeks hollow out, every long pass making the view even better—this filthy slurping and sucking as her drool starts to run down your shaft, spilling from the corner of her lips to create the perfect picture.

It's messy and wet, the sounds that accompany this sloppy blowjob only adding to the heat that's building. Her tongue doesn't stay dormant, sliding up and down and flicking around your swollen cockhead as she tastes what her lips aren't currently around.

"Your mouth, god, your mouth feels fucking incredible—" is about all you can gasp.

"Did you expect anything else?" Karina asks as she takes more of your cock, swallowing deep down without warning, bobbing faster and going just a little further to see how many inches you can handle down her throat.

Her mouth feels like heaven, so slick and warm, with those luscious lips wrapped so tightly around your throbbing cock. A steady back and forth rhythm keeps up to take more, over and over, until every inch is nestled firmly into the tight grip of her throat. “I've been missing out on sucking this beautiful cock of yours—mmph."

Her mouth only gets messier as she slurps and swallows you down, resting her palms on your bare thighs, taking down your length with far more vigor than you could hope for. This blowjob is effortless on her end, a routine, and Karina doesn't pause to catch her breath or rest her throat—she’s driven, determined to keep her spell on you, without a moment where she even looks close to gagging.

"How does that mouth feel on your cock, sweetie?" Karina asks. The words come so easy between slurps and sucks on your aching shaft, getting wetter from all the slick saliva that helps keep you buried down her throat.

"So fucking good," you groan, tilting your head back, and there isn't anything else you could think of to properly praise this work. That's all Karina wants to hear.

"Then let me make you feel even better,” she tells you, flashing a wicked smile with a gleam in her eye that has your cock pulsing hard between her lips. Before you can question a thing, her mouth releases your slick cock, taking these lazy strokes to keep you nice and stiff. There’s a moment where nearly nothing happens, aside from her staring and pumping your cock. The silence lingers. Until finally, she takes your cock, hard as can be—

Karina guides it directly between her enormous breasts. You can hardly breathe, much less speak, and your jaw practically drops when you feel the soft flesh of her massive chest wrapped snugly around your shaft. Her hands come together, fingers interlocking, pressing those tits tighter against your length and that devilish smirk returns as she looks down at the surprise and joy in your expression.

And you can hardly believe the sight when she begins to rock her chest, trapping you between her tits with no chance to escape. The friction picks up, sliding the entire length of your cock with no intention of slowing down or stopping, and Karina stares right into your eyes, admiring the pleasure written all over your features to make sure you commit this to memory.

With her tits wrapped so perfectly around your cock, you won’t last long. But that doesn’t matter. You’ll enjoy every second. Every delicate squeeze, every lingering moment her fingers massage the base of your needy, throbbing shaft. And when she spits between her deep cleavage to make the friction even better, a slicker mess for your cock to slide between, that’s how you start to lose it.

“Jesus, Karina—feels so fucking good, oh my god.” It took so long getting used to the blissful suction from that pretty mouth, but this? There isn't any way to survive these full breasts that keep your entire length enveloped in such perfect warmth.

“Does it? Love how good your cock looks between my big tits."

You can’t disagree one bit, because it looks almost as good as it feels. There's no describing how euphoric it all is, the way your shaft vanishes into that perfect valley of pale flesh with Karina squeezing firmly, grinding her chest up and down to let the slippery friction of her soft breasts coax those dizzying groans out of your mouth. "You love fucking my tits, don't you, sweetie?"

"Yeah—so much, this is just, fuck,” you moan, nearly collapsing back against the sheets at the intense sensations that jolt through your body.

But Karina doesn't give you a chance to relax, quickening her pace, making your whole shaft throb with need as you continue to watch that massive pair of breasts move and bounce atop your shaft. She's loving this as much as you are, dragging out all these desperate moans that beg for more.

"Look how needy you sound—all because you get to fuck these huge tits," Karina teases you, grinding her upper body harder, massaging your achingly hard cock that looks devastatingly good sandwiched between her breasts like that. Your mouth stays open, but no words spill out, leaving room for more groans and she doesn't hesitate to keep that pleasure building and building with such intensity.

You know this can't last forever, but despite that, you're savoring this mind-numbing pleasure, doing what you can not to succumb and explode too soon. These tits are so soft, so warm, and you're throbbing so much from the friction alone, trying to delay the inevitable when your cock disappears and reappears between Karina's abundant cleavage.

"Can't take much more—"

Karina smiles, smug and devious all at the same time as she doesn't bother to ease up, your stiff shaft begging to release all over those perfect breasts. There's not another moment to delay this endless bliss driving you mad, your balls tight and throbbing for an orgasm you can't ignore. "Are you going to cum, sweetie? Ready to make a huge fucking mess all over my tits?"

You're practically delirious, finding it harder to breathe, the weakest nod all you can give. But Karina can tell how close you are by how your cock endlessly throbs and leaks. She shifts forward again, squeezing as tight as possible, bringing you closer and closer to a long overdue release. All this delicious friction is too much, bringing that pleasure to the very edge, and when you look down at her again and share the next glance, the encouraging look in her eyes is the last thing that sets you off.

"Be a good boy and cum for me. Cum all over these tits like you've always wanted to."

That's all it takes.

Your whole body tenses and stiffens as your climax swells up and hits you hard. With your cock nestled between her tits, you can see everything as the first blast of sticky, white cum fires up and explodes all over her pale skin, groaning with every spurt that splashes across her breasts and neck, one heavy, thick stream after another that leaves you shaking.

Karina doesn't cease for one instant, her tits snugly pressed together as you fill up her cleavage with hot cum, keeping this explosive orgasm going strong. Her full lips part with surprise as your load leaves such a mess, this heavy warmth clinging all over her exposed skin, coating her deep cleavage nicely with that sticky sheen. Her breasts make you cum harder than you think you ever have.

And even when it's all over, your load dripping down and oozing out between her huge tits, they stay where they are, squeezing it all out so she can ensure nothing gets wasted. Only when Karina is satisfied that you've been properly drained, your breath all heavy and weak, does she ease off, freeing your cock from her cleavage just to rub your sensitive tip against her hardened nipples to smear the warm mess you made.

"Such a huge, thick load for me. You needed that so badly, right? Didn’t it feel so good to get it all out over my perfect tits?"

Words fail you, only able to muster a weak tilt of your head as you lean back, spent completely, eyes focused on the glistening mess on Karina's chest, all this cum that she wears proudly to put on a little show to display your work.

"Did I make you cum too hard for you to talk, sweetie? You poor thing, how long has it been since someone got you off like this?"

"D-dunno," you say breathlessly, watching her hand continue to work up and down your drained shaft, still twitching desperately, needing every second of her attention. "Can't remember—far too long."

"Oh baby, that's no good—this beautiful cock should always be given attention." There's no denying how right she is about that, but before you can even muster a sound in response, Karina is gripping your cock a little tighter in her hand to keep it rigid. While you stare at those beautiful, cum-covered breasts, the lust has hardly faded. "Think you can handle going again? Or does your cock need a little more time to rest?"

There's only one possible answer. As sensitive and sore as your cock might be after shooting a load all over those fabulous tits, your hardness makes its intentions clear when it pulsates with need in her hand. You'd be disappointed if you stopped now.

"Need more. Need to be inside you, please," you respond, borderline pleading to finally feel what Karina's heavenly pussy feels like—how tight that immaculate grip must be.

“Thought so. But there's no need to beg, sweetheart—now why don't you lie on the bed so I can ride your cock?"

You’ve never heard a more beautiful set of words.

There's no second thought or hesitation. Karina is every bit willing to fulfill all your desires as you climb onto the bed and get comfy on the sheets. She crawls over on her hands and knees, but doesn't settle right into your lap. Instead, she presses her warm body atop your own, your naked flesh crashing together, those heavy breasts squashed tightly up against your bare chest as her lips find your own.

Her skin is so soft when you caress it, and the kisses come so abruptly, as does the hand that snakes down to lazily stroke your cock while she's busy letting her sweet taste linger on your lips.

"Tell me whenever you're ready, and I’ll take you inside me. This is just a nice little warmup," Karina promises in such a dulcet tone that you're tempted to respond immediately—but honestly, you don't know if you'll ever be ready for what she has in store.

So you lie there, surrendering to those lips, and let yourself revel in this delightful warmth she presses against you. It's the kind of lackadaisical make-out session that could never end, with no urgent need to rush. Her kisses are slow and steady, lips claiming yours with the same care and attention her fingers give your stiff shaft, jerking you off at a deliberate pace that makes you leak more and more for her.

"Rina—"

"Yes, baby? What do you need?" Karina responds as she pulls her face away, waiting for that answer, but doesn't dare stop pumping your needy, achingly hard shaft in her delicate fingers. "Need to be inside me, sweetie? Do you wanna know how good my pussy feels?"

"So badly, yeah," you answer with haste, nearly stuttering over the words as Karina pushes herself into a full mount to straddle your lap. She swings her thighs on either side of you, all spread out so you can get a teasing glimpse of her pussy while she gazes down at you with a sweet smile, your shaft aching against your abdomen.

"Tell me exactly what you need. Wanna hear it from you, sweetie. Don't get shy on me now."

"Want you to fuck me—wanna be deep inside that beautiful pussy, want you to ride me until you cum. Please." The words tumble right out, and it's all so embarrassing, but that's exactly what she wanted, isn't it?

Karina takes your acceptance on her offer with a beaming smile, reaching behind her to grab your aching cock in her palm, keeping a firm grip as she positions herself to guide you inside. The anticipation hits its peak when she lifts her wide hips up, bringing you right against the warm entrance of her slick pussy.

"Don't you worry. I'll ride you until we both cum."

Before your next breath, Karina lowers herself—a slow descent onto your cock that spreads her pussy lips apart, sinking into that soaked, wet heat inch after inch. You're coated with all this slickness, and that tight cunt squeezes so goddamn hard as she works you deeper, breath shaky when you hit the deepest parts of her.

"Fuck—it's so big," Karina curses, shifting in your lap for the briefest pause to adjust, bracing herself to take more. “You still with me, sweetie? You’ve gone quiet again.”

"How can I say anything, when your pussy feels this tight and incredible?"

Karina just laughs. The moment her hips lower again, she’s already in motion, gyrating on you, adjusting to the tight fit. There's no time to process it all, with that hot cunt sliding up and down your length. She doesn't tease, and her movements aren’t the least bit gradual, just the rapid rise and fall of her body.

“You fill me up so nicely, sweetheart,” Karina says, the praise sending you over the moon as she rests her hands on your chest for support.

It's every bit as mind blowing as you'd hoped it would be. Her wetness makes for an effortless movement of her hips, keeping a steady pace right off the bat that leaves you helpless beneath her. "Does that feel good? Do you like how my wet little pussy grips your big cock?"

You want to reply, but that pussy is so perfect, wet and warm all over your aching length. So all that leaves your lips is a strangled moan that has Karina lifting her hips up with more ferocity. You don't dare close your eyes for one instant as she rides you with that sinfully tight cunt, your shaft vanishing inside her slick entrance, over and over.

Nothing surpasses this—to see Karina so beautiful on top, those luscious tits bouncing whenever she drops back down to fill herself up with your hard cock, only to ride up again and leave you gasping.

"Fuck, love being inside you," you say, trying your best to speak, but it's a challenge when her cunt gets tighter after each wild plunge. Those heavy tits move in motion with her hips, and the sight of her alone has you groaning as she gives it her all, relentless on that cock. "Can't believe how good your pussy feels, fuck—"

"Yeah? You like how I ride you? How I take your thick cock all the way in with ease?" she says, drawing you right back in.

Karina doesn't stop. The pace gets faster with each drop down on your shaft. It's more than you can handle, watching that perfect body move so effortlessly as she takes you balls deep to make you groan beneath her, so utterly drenched and tight around you.

You can’t take your eyes off her jiggling chest, how hypnotic the bounces of those breasts get, and this is the perfect chance to take them in your hands once more, squeezing and groping the flesh while Karina fucks herself harder on your cock.

"There you go, play with those fucking tits—squeeze them, smack them, do whatever you'd like." Karina gives the offer, and your fingers are already moving to obey, grabbing a perfect handful of those supple tits that can't even be contained in your palms.

It's the distraction you desperately need, and the first slap to one of her pale breasts comes so quickly, the pliant skin rippling so nicely under the impact of your hand.

"Fuck, again—slap those fucking tits, baby, just like that," Karina demands, and who are you to deny her? There's not a thing to hold you back, taking turns to slap those wonderful breasts with enough force that they bounce against each strike, and they get so red under your fingers. Each slap gets harsher than the last, earning the best response from her—a tightening grip around your hard cock and loud whimpers whenever your palm makes contact with that supple flesh, turning her creamy skin a darker shade.

All this treatment leaves your cock dripping wet with Karina's slick juices, every part of you soaked as she keeps bouncing her gorgeous body atop your stiff length.

Her mouth stays open to voice her satisfaction with needy gasps and groans, every inch of her pussy stretched around your girth, keeping you deep. Those continuous smacks against her jiggling tits elicit the sweetest whines, reddened so beautifully from all this attention.

Karina loves it all. So needy for your touch, for this sweet punishment she takes with all the desperation as you smack her tits while she rides your cock. Her movements, they’re hard to handle, hips slamming hard against you as that plump ass bounces on your cock, picking up all this speed. Fucking you harder and harder, those heavy tits never cease bouncing wildly, smacking together when you give a respite to let the sting linger.

"Fucking love your cock inside me, sweetie—love it so fucking much," she tells you, hips rolling faster to keep the pace going strong, all this wetness and heat smothering you.

And now you're content to just lie back, taking in the view while Karina rides you, how she takes every inch of your throbbing shaft like it belongs inside her. She keeps a perfect rhythm that buries your cock inside her tight pussy with every impale, so wet and slick when she brings those hips back up to start the entire process again.

"Gonna fucking cum, baby. Gonna fucking cum all over this hard cock. Can you last long enough?" Karina asks with a coy little smirk, not faltering for even an instant as she keeps fucking you, tight pussy clinging so harshly around your length. And to be honest, you don't even know yourself—but Karina seems determined to drain your balls, even if it has you finishing way sooner than you’d like.

"D-dunno," you answer, knowing that with your hands on her body and those bouncing breasts so mesmerizing, there's only so long before you're pushing past the point of no return. "Probably not—"

Karina lets out a giggle in response that gets ripped right out when she takes you so unbelievably deep, all of your thick cock filling her up in the right way. She's so fucking tight, pale skin glistening with sweat in the light, adding to the view that could get you off from just the sight of her devilish body. "That's okay, sweetie. This cock feels too fucking good to stop."

The next few breaths are all a blur as this becomes a race to the finish. Your eyes stay glued to Karina, unable to look away as her hips move on autopilot. Amidst each movement, she moves quicker with every passing moment, that delicious wetness sliding along your hard length, bouncing her ass each time those thighs slam down on you. The bed squeaks and shakes beneath the constant, rhythmic impact, and you know this can only end one way—

"Shit, sweetheart, gonna fucking cum all over that dick, oh my god—" Karina falls over the edge first, and that cunt grips harder than ever like a vice, nearly unbearable, overflowing with arousal while she quivers above you. Her lips fall open as she looks down with half-lidded eyes, fingernails digging straight into your chest when it hits, every whimpering cry a lovely symphony for you to listen, to watch as it all happens, clinging for dear life while she climaxes so fucking hard all over your cock.

It's incredible, to see the way she loses herself completely to the pleasure, the mess that drowns your shaft while her tight pussy keeps spasming with every gush, and you have to grit your teeth to hold everything at bay.

“You wanna cum in me, sweetie?" she asks, through ragged breaths, a proud look shining through the bliss on her face, still riding that intense high.

A question like that only has one answer.

"Y-yeah, so badly—wanna fucking fill you up," you say, with all the confidence you've ever had. Pushing herself into overdrive, Karina fucks you as fast as her body allows, this mindless, relentless motion of those hips that drives you to the very edge, those big tits bouncing wildly until there's no chance you'll hold back—not a second longer.

And then you fucking spill. You seize her body and keep those hips pinned in place, buried to the hilt as your cock pulsates and throbs inside her warm cunt. Everything fires all at once, flooding right into Karina, thick spurt after thick spurt as she watches the pleasure overtake you. Her walls clench down to milk it straight out of your throbbing shaft as your moans pour out, making sure this huge mess goes where it belongs while you pump her full of cum.

It feels like it’ll never end—so unbelievably overwhelming, your balls emptying right inside Karina, the relief of getting to blow your load inside her for the first time that keeps getting better and better. All your hot seed unloads into her warm pussy, filling her to the brim, and her euphoric gaze help your intense climax linger by the second.

And when there’s nothing left in your balls, Karina still wears that blissed-out smile as she remains right on your shaft, the weight of her body coming to rest against yours. She weakly runs her slender fingers through your hair and kisses you tenderly, both sharing this moment of pure euphoria.

"Good boy..."

The weight of those words, they nearly make you blow again.

Karina plays with your hair as she takes those sloppy, lazy kisses, with your spent shaft still nestled deep inside her dripping cunt. You don't dare move, or do anything else. She seems quite content to just stay there motionless, your bodies pressed so closely together as your cock stays warm in her pussy. "Didn't think you had that much left in you, sweetie. Fucked it right out of you, huh?"

You're much too exhausted to respond, so instead you just lean in for more, letting those lips do what they do best, savoring the taste, the bliss, and all this sweat on your body and hers.

It's in that moment the realization hits that your relationship has shifted. No longer do you have to listen to Karina get railed through the walls—because it's you who's in her bed now, naked, covered in sweat, with your cum deep inside her, and her lips feel so good on your bare skin that you don’t ever want to leave this position.

"So—” she says, and her voice hardly sounds out of breath in comparison. “Do you wanna shower first or—do you wanna just go again?“

It's the most absurd thing to hear—as if she didn't just drain you, the evidence still deep between her legs.

“Both."

Not the answer Karina was expecting, but one that leaves her more than pleased as she presses another kiss to your cheek before finally climbing off you. A few careful steps later and she makes her way across the room, your cum slowly trickling down her thighs. Not stopping to clean any of it, she just lets your load drip out as she saunters into the bathroom and leaves the door wide open.

"Don't keep me waiting, sweetie."

✦ ✦

When you next get wrapped up in these sheets, it’s the exact same picture. But you’re the one on top, lips wandering all over Karina, fingers interlocked while she gets all giggly between kisses. The sweat is still there, and so are the handprints, but this time in a different location, imprinted all over her pale buttcheeks.

And now you’ve learned that the view from behind is almost as impeccable as it is from the front, to see Karina bent over, those ridiculous breasts bouncing freely like there's no controlling them while you ram into her wet pussy. And then you cum, hard—inside her, of course, because how could you not when you’ve got both of her jiggly tits in your palms, squeezing that magnificent pair as you unload right into her pussy.

With Karina, there’s no such thing as too much, or too often—not with that body. You make her cum on your face twice, and then she returns the favor moments after. This time, it’s all over her face, absolutely covering her, that fucking picture-perfect face that makes it seem like Karina isn’t real. But she is—and the way she smiles as your cum drips down her gorgeous features proves it.

No longer do you go to bed horny, but exhausted, with Karina lying beside you. Your own bed becomes neglected as your days and nights become spent in her room, listening to her fall asleep, head resting on those perfect breasts that put any other pillows to shame.

Your mornings start with Karina, greeting her with your head buried between her creamy thighs while the coffee gets brewed. But she doesn’t need you to look after her when her head spins, because she doesn’t get as hungover anymore, with no reason to get drunk off her ass when she has you to help take the edge off whenever she needs it.

It isn’t a relationship by title, but you certainly have all the benefits, the biggest one being your cum coating those big tits as often as it gets inside her pussy—

“Fuck me again,” she breathes in your ear one morning, seconds after you just finished all over her chest, your cock still painfully hard in between them. You’ve got your hands all over her messy tits when she asks it, fondling the soft flesh slick with cum, making shallow pumps between her deep cleavage, but her greedy little pussy calls to you.

But before you slip out—a loud knock on the door interrupts out of nowhere.

"Were you expecting someone?" you ask Karina, but her eyes tell you she's just as confused, face covered with sweat and her hair all disheveled from this hot and heavy session.

"No, I wasn't. Were you?" she asks in return, and neither of you pay it any attention. But the knocks continue, more urgent, more frequent. You don't think it's the neighbors coming to complain—that wouldn't happen this early, and you're mostly surrounded by other students and college grads anyway. "Ugh. Just ignore it. We can continue fucking—"

And that's what you both plan to do. It isn't until the knocks turn into full on bangs that Karina sighs and gives up. "God, fuck. This better be important."

You can see the anger and annoyance written all over her face.

Karina doesn't bother to throw a towel over herself before heading to the door in all her glory, naked and beautiful, still covered in your load, all the sticky, white mess dripping down her chest that she couldn't possibly clean in time before the door swings wide open—

Yizhuo.

It's fucking Yizhuo. Standing there at the doorstep. And there's Karina, all naked, and Yizhuo seems completely unfazed to see her without a shred of clothes.

"Hey," Yizhuo says casually, like this isn't the weirdest thing she could have seen standing in front of her. "Do you usually answer the door naked like this? Was there a fire?"

"When you won't fucking stop knocking and interrupting, yeah. What is it?"Karina sounds so angry that Yizhuo is almost taken back, and you just watch from a distance after slipping your boxers back on.

"Well, I haven't heard from you in a while. Came to check how you're doing, you haven't shown up at any of the parties lately. Wanted to make sure you're still alive. You could have sent a message if you're too fucking busy to talk—"

"What? I'm not—sorry, I've had a lot of assignments, and—you know," Karina hesitates, stuttering to explain her absence to Yizhuo. She looks at you as if to plead for some support. "I-I'm...fine. Totally fine."

"Assignments, yeah, that's what it looks like you were busy with. Explains why you're all naked and sweaty," Yizhuo says, almost mockingly. But Karina just bites her lip and frantically waves you over.

"What the fuck were you knocking so loudly this early for, then?"

"To make sure you weren't dead! That's it," Yizhuo retorts, and it's all too funny how this is turning out. Karina isn't even ashamed to have been caught—even more so when you stand at her side, half naked and covered with sweat, just like her.

"Oh. Hi there, you must be Karina's new boyfrie—"

"He's my roommate!"

Yizhuo raises a brow at that, as if to challenge the excuse. "You have a roommate?"

"He moved in last year," Karina clarifies, with an exasperated sigh. But that isn't what Yizhuo cares about right now, or what she even wants to know—

"And you fuck him?"

"Yizhuo!"

"That's not a no. He's cuter than the last guy I saw you with. Does he have a name?" Yizhuo asks, turning to you instead, and she's all grins as you finally step forward to meet her. "You got a name, or is that only reserved for Karina to scream?"

"Okay, time to leave, you've seen enough."

Karina's more embarrassed than offended. And Yizhuo seems all too amused, but you don't miss that lingering gaze when she gives you a quick scan up and down, admiring all of you—from your bare chest down to your boxers. "Well, I'll let you two get back to fucking—"

"Alright! Time for you to go—have a good day, and text me if you want to meet up, yeah? We'll get something to eat, or have a coffee."

And just like that, the door closes shut behind her, and you can't help but laugh as Karina sighs in defeat and collapses onto the wooden frame.

"So, that's Yizhuo—" you say, trying to keep it together, but she glares back at you as if it's all your fault that this happened.

"Don't," she mutters. "Not a word, sweetie."

"She's cute, too."

"What? Oh my god, seriously, do not—" Karina protests, but she just rolls her eyes and gives this faux look of annoyance as she pulls you closer. "Do you wanna fuck her too?"

"I didn't say that," you reply, and without even getting a chance to explain yourself Karina silences you with her lips. It's all tongue and teeth and it's so damn sloppy that it takes a while before either of you can get another word in.

"You can fuck her if you want. I don't mind. If you think she's cute, that is. Go and fuck her. You have my blessing."

You laugh, still finding all this absurd "I don't—Karina, that's not what I meant. It's fine. I like what I have."

"And what is that?" Karina ponders, peppering your face with kisses.

"A hot roommate with amazing tits that lets me cum inside her everyday,” you blurt out, and Karina just turns beet red from embarrassment.

"Yeah? Is that all I am to you?" she asks, almost cracking up at the end from her snorting laughter, her arms moving around your waist to tug you closer. "Maybe all you are to me is just a big cock for me to ride.”

"Well, as long as we've got it all figured out—"

And just like that, your lips crash again in unison.

“But if you want, I can give you Yizhuo’s number. Pretty sure she would suck you off in the middle of a park if you just asked her for the time."

"Jesus," you mutter, incredulous at the words slipping from her lips. "Didn't you say she was your best friend?"

"Oh, she is. But she's also the biggest slut I know." Karina has the widest grin you've ever seen.

You don't even have a word to say to that, but you don't need one when you let those lips overtake yours again. "Weren't we in the middle of something? We’ve still got an hour before I have to shower and get to class, so I better see you fucking me into next week."

And you can't possibly resist that.

#kpop smut #aespa smut #karina smut #reader insert #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #reader x karina

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helen-with-an-a · 3 days

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Hi, so this came from a request that I got a little while ago. I'm sorry it took so long to get out. But I hope you enjoy.

Barça Femeni x Reader

Description: R has a bad game and is not doing so well after it.

TW: Mental health struggles

Word Count: 2.4k

It wasn’t like you had played poorly, not at all. It was just … not your best day. Everyone had them. For whatever reason, you felt like you weren’t moving as fast as normal – no matter how hard you pumped your arms and stretched your legs, you were always that split second slower than the opponent. Your shots weren’t hitting the back of the net, either. Wide, too high, straight to the goalkeeper, blocked, wide, not enough power, blocked, wide, wide, too high. It was the greatest number of shots you think you’d even taken in a singular game, yet your name was not on the score sheet. You were playing shit. Or at least that’s what you thought … and the fans. You didn’t need to see the actual words to know what the tweets were saying. The comments on the Instagram posts and the anonymous messages flooded in, adding to the overwhelming feeling. Not only was this your team's first home loss in 5 years, but you had missed 3 absolute sitters. One was in the first half; you had managed to defend their corner well and start a counterattack. It was a one-on-one with the keeper. All you had to do was chip it over Hampton, and you’d be in. Except, it wasn’t in. It had hit the post and rolled out of play for a goal kick.

So, you did what you always did when the world was too much. You pushed everything down and into a small little box in your mind. If you left it there long enough, you’d forget about it. Was it the healthiest? No, it most definitely was not. But it worked, and it was never a problem. You had no idea why you acted this way. You had a healthy family that tried to communicate with each other as best they could. You always had good coaches that expertly toed the line between firm and friendly. Your teammates were always kind and helpful. Yet you pushed your feelings down. It was just easier that way. It wasn’t the best in the long run, but right then and there, it was so, so much easier.

“Anímate, cariño,” Mapí said, resting her hand on your shoulder. She knew how hard you would take this. How personally you would take this loss.

“I’m fine,” you said, sounding somewhat upbeat, surprising both you and Mapí.

“Estas segura? Está bien si no lo eres.” Mapí tried to reassure you, not liking your habit of repressing your emotions.

“I’m fine, Mapí.” You dismissed again, a little more defensively this time. You weren’t fine, but you had to be. You smiled weakly, shrugging off her hand and walking towards the tunnel.

You continued to be not-quite-fine for the next few days. To anyone that didn’t know you, you genuinely looked fine. You went about your days like usual. Recovery was generally quiet, with no one feeling up to making small talk and the usual chatter that engulfed the room. Your voice remained deceptively cheery, your soft smile a permanent presence on your face. You went about your day off totally normally – you went to the shops to refill your fridge, stopping on the way to pick up a coffee and a sweet treat like you usually did. Your trolley was full of your usual fruit and veg, and you stopped off to check the eggs and spend time deliberating on the best fresh bread. Everything was totally, completely normal. But to those who knew you, they could see your constant rubbing at your temples, the faint lines of fatigue etched around your eyes despite your insistence that everything was totally fine. You moved like someone carrying an invisible weight, constantly adjusting your shoulders, rolling your neck, and shifting your feet. The shop was too loud for you, each sound and flash of light jolting through your body. As you walked through the aisles, your eyes occasionally darted around as if expecting something to jump out at you. The barista at the coffee shop noticed your slightly strained expression, offering you an extra smile, but you barely registered it. At the checkout, your hands trembled slightly while you packed your groceries, a subtle sign of your inner turmoil. You took a moment to pause, the deep breath you took forcing your emotions back into the little box you had made for them. Despite the routine, every task felt monumental, a herculean effort to maintain the facade of normalcy. Once you were finally home, you exhaled a long, shaky breath, the silence of your apartment both a relief and a reminder of the failure you faced alone.

Everyone knew you weren’t okay by the time the Levente Las Planas game rolled around. You had been quietly hopeful that your name would be in the Starting XI, the one thing you were clinging to. During training, the anticipation had given you a fragile sense of purpose, a sliver of light in an otherwise dark period. Yet, despite your best efforts to appear composed, your teammates noticed the subtle cracks in your façade. You moved through training with mechanical precision, your usual enthusiasm noticeably dampened. The energy you typically brought to the locker room was replaced by a subdued presence; your interactions were reduced to single-word responses and half-hearted nods. Everyone was down, that was sure, but you were on another level.

“Cariño, ¿estás bien?” Alexia asked, her voice tinged with concern. She had been calling your name for the last few minutes, watching from the side as you stared off into the distance, lost in your thoughts. Her brow furrowed as she approached you, her eyes searching your face for any signs of what was wrong.

“Hm? Oh, sí. Yeah, I’m fine,” you dismissed, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You quickly averted your gaze, hoping to hide the turmoil brewing just beneath the surface. Alexia wasn’t convinced. She took a step closer, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You’ve been out of it all day,” she said softly, her touch warm and grounding. “If something’s bothering you, you can tell me.” Her words were kind, but you felt their weight pressing down on you, making it harder to keep up the charade.

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “It’s nothing, really. Just a bit tired, I guess. Pack schedule and whatnot” The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to open up, not now, not when you were barely holding it together.

Alexia sighed, sensing your reluctance. “Okay, but if you need to talk, I’m here for you, siempre.” She squeezed your shoulder reassuringly before stepping back, giving you space but not leaving your side entirely. She hoped her presence was a quiet reminder that you didn’t have to face your struggles alone, even if you weren’t ready to share them just yet.

As she walked away, you felt a pang of guilt. You wanted to reach out, to let her in, but the walls you had built around your emotions felt insurmountable. With a heavy heart, you turned your attention back to the field, trying to focus on the rest of training but finding it impossible to shake the weight of Alexia’s concern. You really didn’t like causing people concern.

During the final minutes of the pre-match meeting, your eyes never left Jona, searching for any hint of his thinking, while your hands trembled ever so slightly as you picked at the end of your shorts. The minutes ticked by agonisingly slowly, each second adding to the weight pressing down on your shoulders. The team exchanged worried glances, their concern growing as they watched you struggle to maintain your usual demeanour. The coaches were starting to grow concerned, too. You insisted you were fine.

Finally, the moment came when the coach started reading out the names for the Starting XI. Your heart pounded in your chest, hope and dread warring within you. When your name wasn’t called, the last of your resilience crumbled. You managed to keep a stoic expression, but inside, you felt a devastating blow. Jona hadn’t really explained his thoughts behind it; he never did. How were you supposed to know he was resting you for the second leg? How were you supposed to know that he was deeply concerned for you and didn’t want to add physical tiredness to your anguish?

Alexia, Lucy, and Ingrid could see you visibly deflate when the team sheet was called. They saw your shoulders drop and your head dip slightly. The trio exchanged worried glances, silently communicating their shared concern for you. Alexia bit her lip, wanting to comfort you but unsure how to breach the distance you had placed between yourself and the rest of the team. Lucy clenched her fists in frustration, wishing she could do something to lift your spirits. Ingrid watched you with a heavy heart, recognising the signs of someone struggling to keep it all together and knowing all too well how isolating that could feel.

“Hey, kid,” Lucy said as she sat beside you. You looked up at her, blinking in surprise, when you realised only the four of you left. The media room, which had been bustling with activity just moments ago, now felt eerily quiet and intimate.

“Hi,” you replied, forcing your voice to be the cheerier tone it normally was. You winced slightly at the apparent fakeness, the effort of pretending weighing heavily on you.

“Look, there’s no easy way to say this,” she started, ignoring Alexia's glare. Lucy's tone was firm but kind, her eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of concern and determination. “We’re worried about you,” she confessed, the sincerity in her voice cutting through the silence.

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I’m fine, really,” you insisted weakly, but the words felt hollow even to your own ears.

Alexia stepped forward, her expression softening as she knelt beside you. “We can see that something’s not right,” she said gently, her eyes searching yours for any sign of the truth, a hand resting on your thigh. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’re here for you.”

Ingrid nodded in agreement, her usually stoic face filled with empathy. “We care about you,” she added, her voice low and steady. “Whatever it is, you can trust us.”

Their collective concern felt overwhelming, and for a moment, you felt the walls you had built around your emotions begin to crack. The weight of their support was both a comfort and a challenge, urging you to let them in even as you struggled to maintain your composure. The room felt heavy with unspoken words, and you realised that perhaps it was time to stop pretending and start facing whatever it was that had been eating away at you.

“I’m fine,” you tried one more time, weakly attempting to protest their concerns. “I’m just tired. Honestly, with the packed schedule recently, it’s been a lot. And I haven’t been sleeping fantastically either.” Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the truth behind your words.

Lucy frowned, not convinced. “We know the schedule’s been tough on everyone, but this feels different,” she said, her tone softening as she reached out and placed a hand on your arm. “You’ve been off since the Chelsea game.”

Alexia nodded in agreement, her eyes filled with worry. “We’re all tired, but you seem... reservado,” she added gently. “You’ve been pulling away from us, and that’s what worries us the most.”

Ingrid, usually the most reserved of the group, spoke up, her voice firm but compassionate. “We’re a team, and that means we look out for each other,” she said, her gaze steady and unwavering. “It’s okay to admit if you’re struggling. We want to help.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat, the weight of their concern pressing down on you. For a moment, you considered brushing them off again, but the sincerity in their eyes made it impossible to dismiss their words. You shook your head, rapidly blinking away the tears that were threatening to spill over. Lucy moved to put a hand on your shoulder.

“Please… please, don’t,” you croaked, hating how your voice wavered slightly. Lucy froze, her hand hovering mid-air, uncertainty flickering across her face.

“Por qué no?” Alexia asked so softly, her voice a gentle whisper that broke through your defences.

You took a shuddering breath, trying to steady yourself. “I don’t want to fall apart,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “If I start, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

Alexia's eyes softened further, and she shuffled closer, her presence warm and reassuring. “You don’t have to hold everything in,” she said gently. “We’re here for you, to help you through this. Está bien dejarlo ir.”

Ingrid, who had been quietly observing, spoke up with a rare tenderness in her voice. “We’ve all been there, feeling like the weight of the world is on our shoulders. You’re not alone, and you don’t have to carry this by yourself.”

Lucy, still hesitant, slowly lowered her hand, her expression full of compassion. “We care about you,” she said softly. “More than just as a teammate, but as a friend. Let us be there for you.”

The tears you had been holding back finally began to spill over, and you wiped at them furiously, feeling both embarrassed and relieved. “I don’t know how to start,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Alexia reached out, this time her hand landing gently on your back. “Just by being honest, like you are now,” she said. “One step at a time. We’ll be with you through all of it.”

The warmth and solidarity from your friends began to open the boxes you had created in your mind. The motions slowly seeping out. The burden you had been carrying alone started to feel a little lighter, knowing you didn’t have to bear it by yourself anymore.

I hope you liked it <3<3<3<3

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hearts4chriss · 2 days

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𝑷𝒖𝒔𝒔𝒚𝑫𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒌! 𝑩𝑭!𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 + 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍! 𝑷𝒐𝒄!𝑮𝑭

𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐛𝐟!𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 + 𝐒𝐮𝐛! 𝐩𝐨𝐜!𝐠𝐟

where do I even begin

the second he gets between ur legs it’s over he’s munching.

Loved when you close your thighs around his head from overstimulation.

Will eat you out until your forcing his head away and even then he’ll still continue until you use ur safe word

The more you pull on Chris’s hair, the faster he moves his tongue and sucks on ur clit.

Will do the occasionally of tracing things with his tongue such as..

“Chris” “my girl” “my pussy” “princess” etc

LOVES when you squirt all over his face and he always lets you know.

“Fuck! I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean-“. He cuts you off by slapping ur thigh

“No please never apologize, that was hot as fuck”.

big fan of face riding, he loves being able to grip ur ass and rock you on his tongue moving at inhumane pace.

“I-fuck Chris I-I can’t much longer-“. You’d moan out as his hands grip ur ass while holding you down tightly lapping up all of your juices.

“Mmhm god you taste so good-“. He groans into ur wetness before resuming eating your pussy

When you try and lift ur hips Chris slaps ur ass before going quicker.

You’ll have tears in ur eyes from the pleasure and it fuels his ego to keep making you feel good.

Is down for eating you out ANYWHERE

under the table acting as if he “dropped something” you’ll be dripping in no time.

He’ll even pull you into a bathroom stall because he saw you bend over revealing ur lace panties and couldn’t help himself.

“Mm look at that pretty pussy, all for me hm?”. Chris whispers while going on his knees behind you running his thumb over ur cunt as you whimper with sensitivity.

“O-oh Chris please-“. You push ur ass back towards him and after that he was a goner

ALWAYS complimenting you.

“God you taste so good baby”.

“You have the prettiest pussy”.

“Mmmhm love this pussy so much”.

“Give it to me pretty girl, all over my face”.

“Could listen to those beautiful sounds all day ma”.

ADDICTED to shaking his head in it like a fucking dog 😛 grazing his nose over ur bud each time

Will eat you out till ur juices are literally dripping down his face chin neck ALL of it.

Always leaves you with shaky legs and changing the sheets.

When Chris gets in a bad mood you always know that him eating you out is enough to make him feel better.

Would eat you out for breakfast lunch and dinner if you let him.

“Chris! F-fuck- okay!”. You’d try and mutter out but the pleasure felt so good.

“I’m not finished with you sweetheart, this pussys too good”. He’d whisper into your wetness before diving back in.

Sometimes he’d tease by kissing and sucking on ur inner thighs but normally he camt even help himself, I mean you pussy is right in his face.

sometimes he gets worried he did to much when he sees you shaking and tears down ur face.

“Shit shit are you okay baby?”.

“Please talk to me”.

And you’d roll ur eyes quick to reassure him your okay l

“m’ okay..just tired-“. You’d yawn tiredly unable to really make much of what’s just happened but you sure as hell enjoyed it

“Aw c’mere sweet girl, I’m gonna take of you, did so good for me” he’d plant kisses on ur face gently picking you up making his way to the bathroom

Aftercare!

Run you a bubble bath with ur bath bombs and would clean you up slowly as ur still sensitive

Would have your pjs ( his t shirt and ur panties ) ready for you as he’d help dry you off leading you to the bed

The rest of night would contain of you cuddling into his chest as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear lulling you to sleep

a/n- heyyy everyone! Sorry I’ve been gone for so long, I promise I’ve been writing I just took a very long break due to me graduation and I’ve been exhausted with school work but since I’m OFFICIALLY A HARVARD STUDENTTTT, I plan to be more active and I will have a panty soaking fic out soon 💋💋

@sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chriss @nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @hoesformatt @luv4kozume-deactivated20240512 @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @vicsguitarr @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @imaslut4kehlani @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @sturniololoverr @gamermattsgf @lilyloveschris @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @ineedchriscock @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @luhsexcbihh-deactivated20240523 @nickgetsmewetter @rubyjaneaxx @love4chris

#chris sturniolo #hearts4chriss #pussy drunk #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #Spotify

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evertidings · 3 days

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— MAY 2024.

accomplishments.

hi everyone!! i hope you're all doing well hehe. i recently came back from a mini-grad trip (oh yeah, i graduated? like, i finished university? woah. weird) in europe and it was so so wonderful. i can only imagine living in places like that.

in terms of chapter eleven, rest assured that it is still being worked on! i didn't bring my laptop on my trip so i couldn't write for the past two weeks, but since i've been back, i've slowly gotten back on the grind. i'm still trying to adjust from the trip and just, well, overall living in general, but we're making progress! i don't want to give any set dates for when the chapter will be released yet in case i let anyone down if it doesn't come true, but i feel really good about the content so far.

all five ros will appear in this chapter in individual or shared branches. one of the combos is expected (they're kinda stuck together like glue) and the other, well, i'm really excited to have them interact more. it sets up a base for the friendship they're going to work towards in the later books, which is very exciting. can you guess who the two characters are?

on a similar note, flirting has reached an all-time high recently and it's, like... gahhh. so much fun. i think i mentioned last month that the romance lock is coming up (should be within the next two chapters ish) so i'm really ramping up the options here. one, it gives you a better idea of who you might choose and two, well, it's just fun isn't it? it makes the progression of your relationship with the chosen ro, whoever it may be, much more natural as well. (and also i just like writing about stoic characters like Blane and K, or flirty characters like Rylan, blush).

i hope you all know this, but i adore this story and i have no plans to abandon it. no matter how long ago the last update, i am still very much working on the next one. that said, i really appreciate everyone's patience. knowing that there are still so many people sticking by me despite the radio silence on my end is more than i deserve, really. so thank you. i really hope i can continue to live up to your expectations <3

#update #when twilight strikes #the midnight hours #interactive fiction

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thatlittlered · 3 days

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would've, could've, should've | aaron hotchner

warning(s): one whole curse word, smoking, stunning amount of fluff and a little bit of action

GIF by @littlecarmine

part one

part two

author's note: Sorry for the delay, hope it was worth it! I also want to thank the sweet anon for the ask with the Robert Siken poem, which I included here. Next part will be straight-up filthy smut, so stay tuned, fellow sluts.

Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

You don’t see much of each other for the next couple of days. Aaron is on autopilot, avoiding any chance to be alone with you. The rest of the team unknowingly act as a buffer and all he has to do is not look at you during work hours, keep the door to his office shut to not hear your laughter.

It’s a relief when you and Morgan are called to testify in court for a case. You’re somewhere far away for the day, where he knows you’re safe and he can go back to pretending nothing has changed.

The problems start when he’s not being kept busy.

How much paperwork can one person do?

The stars align oddly in his favor and he’s into calls or meetings until long after everyone else has gone home. When ten pm rolls around, he finally calls it quits but sees no point in leaving in a hurry. It’s past Jack’s bed time, it’d be cruel to wake him up now and carry him back home when tomorrow’s Sunday. If all goes well, he can pick him in the morning and they’ll get to spend the day together.

His finger is hovering over Jessica’s number when he spots your name in his call logs. It’s silly and childish, but he hasn’t thought of you in a couple of hours and God.

Deep down, he knows he’s been incredibly unfair to you. He had to. Had to tell himself it was something outside of him causing him torment. An obstacle to overcome, a distraction to ignore. He had to act as if you were forcing your way into his life in order to be able to put up walls, but what have you really done except exist near him? He is the one to blame for allowing it to grow beneath his skin; succumbing to his need for some sort of intimacy when he could have -should have- nipped this at the bud a very long time ago. He recognized it within himself the other day, when he realized he could have -should have- kissed you.

But nothing is healed with a kiss. Only new grievances arise.

It’s where you go from there that matters and he finds himself unable to guide or be guided.

Where do you go from here?

When he decides to feed his insomnia with a cup of late-night coffee, he is yet again reminded of you. So, he calls, but you don’t answer and he pours another, completely indifferent to the idea of sleep.

It’s getting too late to be here, even by his standards. He tries calling again, but, no answer. He gathers his stuff to leave and there is a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach when he settles inside the car. It’s only eleven and you always say you never sleep this early.

Another call, this time to Emily, who miraculously, picks up.

“Hello? Hotch?”

There is a deafening buzz in the background; loud voices and music blasting.

Aaron apologizes for the late hour and tries to be discreet when he asks about you. Says he needs to go over something about a case file but you won’t answer his calls and he got worried.

“Yeah, she’s fine, she’s right here with me, but it’s a little hard to get her right now. Is it urgent?”

“Uh, no, don’t bother her. Is everyone else there too?”

“Not everyone, just the two of us, Garcia and Morgan. Do you need them as well?”

You didn’t invite him, why would you? He would have never said yes.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Sorry, sir, I can’t make out much with all this noise. We’re at the ‘Matter’ if you need us. I’ll tell the guys to call you as soon as they can, okay? Have a good night.”

So, he drives two miles a little before midnight to come sit outside ‘Matter’, which is apparently a very busy nightclub downtown, half a mile away from the nearest parking spot he could find.

He doesn’t really know why he came.

He can’t come in and join you. Can’t ask for you.

They probably wouldn’t even let him in while dressed like this.

It’s very unclear what the next step is.

He knows it’s pointless to call you again when you’re probably too busy dancing and drinking with a great many people who are not him. Morgan has some trouble keeping his hands to himself when he drinks.

He sits on the curb of the street, cracks open the pack of cigarettes he snack out of the car’s glove compartment, always hidden below the insurance papers. Astoundingly loud music plays every time the doors to the club open and people come out stumbling, kissing sloppily and dragging each other away.

He just wants to see you and put this horrible feeling inside him to rest.

“No fucking way.”

He jolts at the sound of your voice and throws away the cigarette, putting it out with his shoe before he turns to see you standing outside the club. You approach timidly until you can be sure it’s him and when you step closer to the streetlight, he can really see you. The clothes you could never wear to work, the shoes you apparently spend all your money on. You’re beautiful.

He can’t possibly move until you’re sat beside him. For the first time in what seems like forever, now that he’s grown so used to it, you keep a very respectable distance between your bodies.

“You didn’t have to throw it away; I already saw you and,” you pick up the abandoned carton from the sidewalk and almost laugh at how immaculate it looks just having been opened, “I have so many questions. Since when do you smoke?”

His voice is quiet, unamused.

“Almost never.”

You look at him curiously and he thinks you would make a great interrogator simply by the way you make everyone around you spill their souls out if it will satisfy you.

“Sometimes when I’m very stressed.”

You hum, “I never would have guessed that.”

He laughs to himself and looks at his hands.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of things that are not typical of me lately.”

You help yourself to a cigarette and he cups his hand over yours when the breeze makes it too hard to light up.

“Is that because of me? Am I a bad influence?”

“No. It’s me, I’m the common denominator.”

You hum again and smile at him teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Breakthrough.”

“So, this is what therapy is like?”

He wants to thank you, for always trying to make things as easy as possible for him. You open the door and difficult as it may seem, all he really has to do is walk through it.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t smoke in session.”

“Oh good.”

You’re sitting closer again and Aaron doesn’t know how. He doesn’t think either of you moved. He keeps his eyes on the road in front of him, glances at you only from the corner of his eye. Your perfume mingles with the smoke of the cigarette and it’s all a haze to him.

“Why are you not inside?”

“I needed a breath; it was very loud and packed in there… and I finally saw your calls.”

He hums, unable to find anything else to say.

“Why are you here?

“I don’t know.”

He knows that is not a good enough of an answer.

“I always have this terrible feeling that something is going to happen to you.”

Your shoulder touches his and he can admire the smoothness of it, focus on each mark there to avoid the dreaded eye contact.

“Do you think that fear is reasonable, or is it rooted in something else?’

His eyes shut tightly, “Don’t do that, please. Don’t talk to me like I’m a subject.”

“You use your ‘agent tone’ all the time outside of work.”

His voice deepens, “I am aware.”

Heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry I did all that and then backed out at the last minute.”

“It’s alright. I think I knew you would.”

“See, that’s even worse.”

You look at his suit, the wrinkles that have formed in the shirt underneath from the hours of wear.

“Did you come here straight from the office?”

A sigh, “Yeah.”

You nod your head in understanding and move to put out what’s left of the cigarette.

“I’m alright. I’ve got the others too; they’ll take me home. You can relax now.”

“I don’t think I ever can.”

You don’t know what to say really. If what he needs is time, you can give it, but he seems undecided as well when he picks up your hand.

“I think I’m scared of what will happen once the line is crossed.”

A confession.

That, you did not expect.

“Aside from the complications at work, I just,” his hand rubs gently on the spot your watch has left its mark, “I have proved time and time again that I can’t handle any relationship beyond professionalism and once we stop being just colleagues, I will lose you completely from my life.”

“Do you think that line has not been crossed already?”

He laughs quietly.

You can both feel the bouncer looking at you and Aaron is suddenly aware of how vulnerable he is right now.

“I guess it has.”

You’re both quiet for a little while.

“I have to go back inside now, or they’ll start getting worried.”

He looks like he’s about to say something, but no words leave his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them you were here.”

That hurt. You know it, but what else was there to say?

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll know.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze before you leave and he’s left staring while you go back inside.

-.-.-

A little past two, the girls drop you off in a shared cub before going their separate ways and you rush to your apartment building, only to find Aaron waiting there.

“Well, you certainly have a thing for sitting on curbs.”

He looks tired, so tired, and alone in the empty street. It’s very hard to maintain your position when he always looks this beaten down in his most tender moments. You wish to care for him, love him back into happiness but that wouldn’t be fair.

Still, you can’t help but go to him and he is relieved that you sit closer this time.

“Have you been waiting here this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

You softly take his right hand to look at his watch. His body relaxes at the touch.

“Huh.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, but I’m a little more drunk than the last time you saw me.”

Your skin glows under the soft moonlight and he notices.

It is technically tomorrow now.

“How drunk?”

His face moves closer and you can’t help but shiver at the sudden change. His breath is warm on your face. The words come out in a whisper.

“Not that much.”

That’s all it takes.

His lips press against yours once… then twice and then… he doesn’t stop.

You always thought he’d be one to kiss carefully and with absolute purpose, just like he does everything else, but he kisses like a man on fire. He seeks to quench something deep inside of him and you provide happily. The remnants of your lip gloss tingle on his mouth, as if kissing you alone is not enough of an awakening.

It’s becoming increasingly hard to keep up with breathing when he envelops you so, and cages you in the pleasant whirl of his scent. When you break away for breath, he’s quick to capture you once more. His hands come to your face to keep you there until he’s had enough, but how he can he ever have enough of you?

He only lets you go because he has to. You’re both practically panting and he can’t decide what to do. He wants to kiss you, look at you, touch you, but it cannot all be done at once. When your own hand comes to his face just below his jawline, he melts under the touch. His eyes are sunken, his body is begging for rest, but it would not come without you.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

His voice is low and breathy when he nods.

“Yeah…”

-.-.-

You walk upstairs, hand in hand, and Aaron can see your own exhaustion is taking over. Something started with that first touch. Your bodies wish only to find comfort near each other.

His breath is warm on your neck while you open the door, his hands softly placed on your waist with the excuse of keeping you steady. When you move to take off your shoes, he is behind you again, as if tied to you with invisible thread, and holds you gently by the elbow when he sees you struggling.

You’re suddenly very aware he is in your house again. Touching you.

“Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head no, but you’re too focused on the way his hand moves languidly up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

He is so caring. So soft below the austere guise.

“I just need to take a shower,” you almost stumble backward and he thinks it’s the alcohol, but it might just be the feeling of his hands on your face, “I must have fifty different people’s sweat on me right now.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”

His voice is soft – tired.

You turn on the lights for him in the living room and he gives a half-smile when you check on him again.

“I won’t be long.”

Once left alone, he gets to look around your house. He sees your carefully assorted nick-knacks and smiles at the framed pictures all over your bookshelves. He can’t help but notice you’ve chosen one, if not the only, photo of the team that he’s also part of.

He is important to you too.

He can see you in every corner of the room, in the books you buy and the realistic-looking-but-admittedly-fake plants sprinkled here and there for a lack of time to take care of any real ones. He can even see you in the soft material of the couch when he sits and lets his cheek touch the fabric. He has been here before in a dream, with your head in his lap.

The room is awfully quiet save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of running water in the background. For a man that’s usually so good at sitting alone with his thoughts, he suddenly can’t stand it.

He knocks gently on the bathroom door and opens it slowly, only to be hit with the dizzying cloud of warm steam. Your head peeks behind the shower curtain and he can tell you got tired of standing and sat in the tub instead.

“Is it okay if I sit in here with you?”

You thought he’d sit on the toilet seat, but he crawls to the edge of the tub and sits on the bathmat with his back to you.

How close is close enough?

Now that he’s ventured, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satisfied.

So, he closes his eyes and rests his head back on the, now warm, porcelain.

“Aaron.”

He doesn’t know if he actually fell asleep, but the water is now turned off and you’re looking at him. He realizes now, for the first time, that you’re naked behind him. Your hair and eyelashes are angelically wet, the sheen of water on your flushed skin is divine. He knows that you’d be warm if he touched you now.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

You smile at him -siren- and your hand grabs a handful of his shirt, staining it with water that reaches his body underneath and makes him shiver. You kiss him with plump wet lips and he reaches for you. His hand entangles in your hair until you’re both practically pulling at each other.

A less enamored man would have broken away just to sneak a peek at your bare skin, but he won’t. He is respectful even now, even like this.

“I should have kissed you the other day. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

It’s a whisper when his mouth leaves yours, but you catch it.

You hum, eyes glossy, “Would've, could've, should’ve.”

What matters is now.

He kisses you again – just one more time. You both feel like giddy, lovesick children.

“Can you hand me my bathrobe?”

The bathrobe is also impossibly soft to the touch and when you emerge clad in it, he thinks he’d like to hold you. The spell of the warm steam is broken outside, however, and being so close to your naked body suddenly becomes very serious.

You let him sit in your bed, still fully clothed, save for his suit jacket, and he closes his eyes again. The comforter underneath is lovely.

Is everything in this house soft?

Is this what it feels like to be loved by you?

You disappear inside the walk-in closet and reappear, now properly dressed in your pajamas. The bed dips when you sit next to him and he turns to you completely.

“I have a T-shirt you can sleep in, don’t know about pants though.”

Please. Just be here, with him.

He watches you leave, but it’s not long before you return with the aforementioned shirt. You laugh when he finally realizes he’ll have to sleep in his boxers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you.”

He throws a teasing look, but can’t possibly come up with a clever answer right now.

“I’ll go dry my hair and you can get dressed, alright?”

You are so gentle with your guidance that it makes him feel like a helpless child, but there’s a hidden relief at that. It’s nice; being cared for like this and there is something to be said about parallels, with you going now to do as you had done a week and a half ago in a Florida hotel and him waiting for you – on your bed.

It’s the same, but it’s different.

He hangs his work clothes carefully on the chair in the corner of your room and goes to sit on the bed, but feels too uncomfortable to climb under the covers. He knows you’d find his duality funny; how he goes from hungrily kissing you to being too embarrassed to join you in bed, even if it’s only for sleep.

You notice his stiffness when you come back in the room, but don’t say anything. It’s not exactly easy for you either, you’re just better at hiding it than he is. You choose to lead by example instead and turn off the lights before reaching for the one on your nightstand and climbing inside your bedding.

He only speaks to deflect attention from him again, “You have a TV in your room.”

“Jealous?”

He turns to look at you and you’re perched up on the plump pillows, smiling at him. Your hand reaches for his own over the comfort and you gently pull him to you.

He comes, of course.

“I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“Of course you don’t.”

He joins you with his back on the pillows and his shoulder touching yours, but he’s still too stiff.

“What do you watch?”

“Mostly reruns of sitcoms-,” he laughs at that, “-Seinfeld.”

“Isn’t that show a thousand years old?

“You would know.”

He laughs again and you can almost make out a wounded pout on his face, but a kiss is enough of a cure. His shoulders relax and he gives in to the warmth and softness; be it the bed or you next to him. You can tell he’s barely managing to stay awake, but he still can’t let go completely. His head slumps backward again.

“Can we turn it on?”

You find the courage to caress his hair, admiring the softness of it and the discreet sprinkle of grey that you can only see up close.

“If you want.”

The quiet humming of the television and your breath in his ear, putting his mind to ease, are enough for him to finally sleep and you’re not long behind. His head is turned to the side where you are, hand tightly holding yours.

Later in the night, when you stir in your sleep, he pulls you further into him – wraps his arm around you completely and doesn’t let go.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #thomas gibson

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ceesimz · 16 hours

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Leave Before The Lights Come On

Title is a Arctic Monkeys song! This trope has been done more times than I've blinked my whole life but this is my version, enjoy :) (ps it's not too long but it's a lil bit spicy and perhaps slightly ridiculous - plus, are we shocked to hear im nervous about posting this? it's quite different to anything else I've written but here goes)

Award shows, charity events, dinners with red carpets. It's how things started months ago, and it's still how the story goes now.

Everyone knew what private but not secret meant nowadays, it seemed to be the go-to for basically all couples. Yet, very few understood the thrill of private and secret.

Every night spent at these things was a new performance for you both, dancing around each other with fleeting glances and lingering, teasing touches. A chance to start fresh over and over, something most couples never endeavour in anymore, but it's so addicting. A game of cat and mouse that always ends in the same way, and despite that fact, it's still intoxicating all the same.

"One beer please."

"Just a beer'll do."

You know who is next to you, there's no use guessing. It always starts like this. And when she slithers closer, elbows rested on the bar that she's slumped over compared to you standing with perfect posture and hands clasped around your own arms that crossed over your chest, the cuff links of her suit sleeves glimmer in your eye line. Her hands purposely move to fiddle with them, knowing your attention is on her hands and the rings that are scattered across her fingers. She knows you too well, knows your eyes unintentionally fall to that part of her whenever they're on display, and it causes the first simmer of something to bubble in your abdomen.

At once, the bartender places the beer bottles down in front of you both, each reaching out to grab it and turning to the other. With eyes holding the other's gaze, you and Leah take a swig of your drinks, a silent agreement that the night has begun.

To your dismay though, the scales have already tipped in Leah's favour as she gets the first laugh. She takes another sip of her beer, first moving her eyes from your face to the way your hands make the bottle look bigger than it is as you hold it with both, rather than Leah who holds it with just one. Then, she trails her eyes downwards and up again, smirking smugly at you before walking away, not without a brush against your shoulder.

You shake your head just as the host announces the event will begin in ten minutes and advises everyone to find their seats. Working with one of the most well-known magazines got you great seats surrounded by good people to network with, and though if your manager found out she'd probably retract all future invites, you couldn't care less about networking. Not when you were stuck in the most mind-numbing game of back and forth, push and pull, take and give. You could be seated beside some random Tom, Dick or Harry from a no-name town in England, or you could be sat beside someone like Serena Williams, and it'd make no difference.

Leah Williamson, your new girlfriend and possibly the most frustrating yet attractive person you'd seen, was in the room. That was enough incentive for all thoughts to fly far from your mind.

The last event you went to was probably the most notable for your relationship. It should have been a pretty important one for you to pay attention to, considering it was hosted by GQ, but how could you when a certain blonde in a scantily clad dress was begging to be your girlfriend all night? She had asked in just about every way possible, and you would have said yes from the first instance if it weren't for her attention being pulled away before you could get a word in.

From whispering it in your ear as she slipped past you during a conversation with some of GQ's most important employees, to handing you a serviette with words written on that still send shivers down your spine when you think back to them, and even meeting your eyes from across the room in your respective seats and mouthing the question 'Mine yet?' with an upward quirk of her eyebrows. If you thought that part of the night was memorable, you didn't want to talk about the visceral reaction you got thinking back to the after events that occurred in the comfort of your hotel room.

But now, here in the present, you found your seat at a table with shareholders and employees and celebrities scattered around it, distinctively uninterested in every single one of them. They try to strike up conversation and you let them, your workaholic autopilot kicking in to entertain their interest for some time. These things are always boring, that's what makes them the perfect environment for this kind of thing. Sure, some were more fun than others and both yourself and Leah had found them enjoyable in the past, but there was an added element to them now that you were quite sure you could never give up.

The host drags on far longer than needed and to you it seems they're rather self-indulgent, revelling in the fact they've got the attention of the room. They talk as if everyone is hanging on the edge of their seats, grasping onto every word they said, when in reality it couldn't be further from the truth. Or at least in your case anyway. Apparently your boredom showed a little too much, because the person beside you asked if you're alright at a lull in the first speech of the evening. You reassure them you are fine, just in need of a drink since your beer had already gone down by now, and with a thanks from yourself they turn back away from you.

Your eyes search the room then, giving in to the temptation of her, only to find blue eyes staring right back at you from a few tables over. Her hair is slicked back into a low bun and she has one too many buttons of her white shirt undone - she's hot and she knows it. You still can't figure out if that's annoying or, unfortunately, attractive. The aura that exudes off of her hits you even from across the room, a combination of confidence and a smugness that gets under your skin in the best way.

It's at this moment that a short intermission is announced, allowing for people to go to the bathroom or fetch a drink and some snacks, or whatever they care to do. All you know is that there's a certain person in the room you've got to see and you need a new beverage, so you head to the bar.

Except, you're stopped in your tracks along the way. A body blocks you from going any further as she side-steps in front of you and shoves a champagne flute into your hand. In her hand is a sweet Manhattan cocktail, one with a cherry in it that immediately catches your eye. This is your chance to equal the score.

Maintaining eye contact with her, you delicately take the cherry and, with the most innocent look you could muster from under your eyelashes, you bite it from the stem. Those same piercing blue eyes track every movement of yours, from the moment you snatched it from her drink to the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed. In the low light, you manage to make out the sight of her pupils tripling in size, and just like that, the cards are in your favour again.

Before Leah can react, you're sauntering away without a word having been exchanged, and you can feel her staring incessantly at you as you drop back into the ocean of people in the room. She curses under her breath, downs her drink, and heads back to the bar.

After that interaction, you actually did fall into an invigorating conversation with the people on your table. You discredited them, in the midst of your tunnel vision you didn't realise who it was you were sat with. Turns out, they're some fascinating people who you could really do with speaking to again soon.

It's as you're talking to one of them, offering to go collect a tray of drinks for the table, that someone leans over you and refills your glass with more champagne. Initially, you guess it's just one of the event workers, but then those damned Arsenal earrings jump into view and your senses are overcome with her perfume. If she asked why there were goosebumps on your arms, you'd shrug and blame it on the chill of the hall. But, your question is, where the fuck did she get a whole bottle of champagne from?

She leaves as quickly as she arrived, leaving only a trace of her signature scent in her wind. You jut your tongue into your cheek momentarily - that was a bold move by the defender. It obviously caught the attention of the people on your table who were feeling as if they may have interrupted perhaps a private moment, but you wave them off and swiftly switch topics.

To their rather inquisitive annoyance, they demand you go get the drinks you'd offered to get since you weren't going to tell them about... whatever had just happened. So you do, you take your champagne flute with you and wander over to the bar with a focused look on your face, waiting for the right time to strike and get your payback.

That happens sooner than you could have guessed, and it forces a smirk upon your face as you approach your prey that's trapped in a seemingly boring conversation, judging by the unimpressed look on her face. She doesn't see you coming, her arms are crossed over her chest and her mouth is down-turned into a frown, another beer bottle in her hand. You see her sigh as you get closer, her head on a swivel but looking in entirely the wrong direction.

The set up is perfect, perfect for you to be able to walk past her straight to the bar with a little taunting. However, you're feeling bolder now, urged on by the alcohol in your system. Instead of a simple brush along her body, your free hand drops down to slide under her blazer and sleaze dangerously low across her toned back. It's a lingering touch, you don't pull your hand away until the very last second. You don't have to look back at her to know she's watching you go.

To both your individual irritation, the next hour or so of the night doesn't allow for anymore sly digs and heated encounters. It's so unbelievably dull, just ramble after ramble of people bragging and kissing each other's ass as they speak. It gets to around forty-five minutes of this bullshit before a spiteful plan forms in your head.

A few of the people on your table had switched seats, ensuring they get the most out of the night. You didn't care for it all, zoning out countless times so far, but when the guy beside you turns to you with a blissfully oblivious smile on his face, you know what you have to do.

The next however long, you converse with this guy more and indulge him in pointless topics that really are so fucking stale and tedious, but you have to play the long game here. And before you'd even done anything half as interesting yet, there's already daggers being forced into the side of your face.

It all comes to a head when you laugh and swat his shoulder in an exaggerated manner, giggling like a school girl at... honestly, you couldn't even remember. But he lavished in your amusement, shuffling his chair ever so slightly closer and throwing an arm around the back of your chair. He brushes his hair back with his other hand, exposing his less than favourable hairline, and really you have to hold back a gag at the fact you're doing this.

At that point, you decide you have to get away from him and his dreary, lifeless, and nonexistent charisma. So you throw one last look at Leah's direction, stifling a grin at her flared nostrils and completely unimpressed demeanour, before excusing yourself from your conversation and sliding out from your seat. Whether Leah had the guts to follow you or not, you weren't sure, but you were just glad you were away from that guy.

Unbeknownst to you, Leah had suddenly gotten up from her chair the second she saw you rise, and she was marching through the room to pace after you. The game was entirely forgotten for her at this point, the image of you with him tattooed on her eyelids. Immaturely, she had to stop herself from spitting at him as she walked past, settling for a warning glare instead.

You have all of two seconds to yourself in the bathroom, checking yourself out in the mirror, before the door slams against the wall with a resounding thud. A gloating smirk is on your face from the moment she walks in, and you stare at her for a moment then turn back to the mirror, pretending to fix your lipstick.

"Really?" Leah shrugged her shoulders more aggressively than you had ever seen anyone before, holding her hands out in an outraged gesture. "You really did that?"

"S'just the game, Leah. You know that." You replied simply, resisting the urge to meet her stare.

It's silent between you both then, possibly the most charged silence you've ever found yourself in. Leah takes a few mindless steps around the room without a particular direction, eyes flicking back to you every second. At once, she stops, just off to your side, and slips her hands into the pockets of her black slacks, kissing her teeth and raising her eyebrows at you. The moment she goes to say something, there's voices coming from the corridor leading to the bathroom. You turn to look at her then, daring her to act first.

She does.

She takes full advantage of the moment, gripping your upper arm tightly and tugging you into one of the cubicles. You gasp quietly in shock, caught off-guard by her actions, and you grumble unintelligibly at the triumphant grin on her face. Her hands are tight on your hips, meanwhile yours are crossed over your chest in disapproval.

"Flirting with a guy? That's a new low." Leah taunted, each stroke of her thumb unintentionally raising the fabric of your black dress.

"Says the one that's so riled up, she dragged me into a toilet cubicle." You hit back, refusing to give in. Leah just shrugs, purses her lips, and takes a quick glance down to your now exposed thigh before looking back at you.

"I'm not riled up. You're the one getting antsy here, you know I'm winning and that's why you had to start feeling up that scraggly arsehole out there. Think again, sweetheart." Fuck, she might have gotten you there.

"Maybe I found him attractive." It's a weak defence, even you know that. Leah knew it too, if the slight raise of one eyebrow was anything to go by.

"Okay. One, you're in a relationship. Two, you're in a lesbian relationship. Three, you hear that?" She looks around in feigned confusion, cupping her hand around her ear briefly before turning back to you in what looks like a stupid, cartoon light bulb moment. "Oh yeah, you're pretty fucking gay!"

You roll your eyes and huff, shaking your head at her idiocy and turning your attention to the wall behind her.

"What was his name? Tell me about him, if he was attractive enough to feel the need to flirt with him." She was picking and choosing every teasing remark from the file in her mind to get under your skin.

"...his name was Dirk." The bark of laughter she lets out at that makes you flinch a little. Maybe his name was a little amusing, but right now to you there wasn't a single funny thing on earth.

"Dirk? Really? Did he come with a Swiss army knife and a granola bar in his pocket? Did he have a flannel shirt under his knit sweater? And a tent in his car, ready for a hike through the Grand Canyon?"

As it turns out, your last thought was a little far off.

The giggle bubbles out of you before you can think to stop it, and you lightly push Leah's face away from you with a hand to her cheek. She turns back to you with a grin, knowing she had won this evening. To be fair, she has won nearly every evening so far. She was on a winning streak you really had no plans of stopping. Not when it got you to this moment here, at the end of it.

"Out of all the guys in the room, I chose a pretty shit one." You surrendered in a murmur, Leah nodding.

"It's alright, look who you get to go home with."

Her voice had dropped to a whisper as she stepped further into your space, her nose nudging against your jaw where her mouth rested just above your pulse point. The shivers you got without even barely being touched were enough of a reaction for her. But, she was greedy when it came to you.

One arm slipped around your waist, holding you to her tightly as her large hand splayed out across your lower back. Her head dipped further down, her lips moving to press open-mouthed kisses to your exposed collarbone.

"Let's get out of here. I'm done now." She murmured into your skin, turning her face more toward your neck and leaving softer, slower pecks there.

"Don't you wanna get your payback? Otherwise you're giving up the win. I was more than ready to get back out there, the night isn't over." You were lying, you were more than ready to get the hell out of here, but you also weren't going to pass up on the chance to tease her just once more.

"I'll get my payback when we get to the hotel."

That's all she needed to say.

These nights had a certain characteristic to them, and that was possibly the most anticipated time of the evening. As the hosts draw out the end of the event, thanking people you've never heard of and have a large lack of care for, you and Leah were already gone.

Normally, it was a fierce wait, hanging on to the other's every move, everything else in the room simply just background noise, as you wait for who blinks first. Who gives in to the tension and ends the night before the lights come up, before the eyes of the room see you chase one another to the exit.

Tonight though, neither of you have the patience.

Regardless of the time you leave, it's the same situation every time for your organised driver; he drops you off and, under strict instruction by his management, waits for you to come back so he can drive you to the hotel or wherever you want to go. Except, you never come, he doesn't see you for the rest of the night once you enter the building. He's used to it by now, a little in love with it since he's getting paid for nothing, he just has to wait for your inevitable apology text telling him you won't be needing a ride home.

Tonight is just like the others - Leah ushers you into the back of an Uber with a hand on your waist, sliding in beside you and slamming the door shut with a smirk on her face after she gives one last glance around. There's never anyone watching, nobody knows where to look and nobody probably even cares, but she does it anyway. She could imagine the articles that might get written about her if the pair of you were ever spotted, and that fuels her even more. Maybe that's the alcohol in her system, but the thoughts run through her veins and she can't help but turn to you, grab your face, and dive into a kiss that's desperate and hot, and the tension of the night reaches its peak.

The cab driver just shakes his head, pulling away from the curb as the pair of you stay stuck in your own world. It's a few minutes later when you both pull away, cheeks flushed red and lips a tad swollen as you put your belts on. Straight away, Leah's hand falls to your lap and you hold it tightly with both of your own, looking up at her with a certain feeling swirling through your eyes that drives her crazy. Her hand moves, then, to the back of your neck as she pushes you towards her for another urgent kiss.

"You're lucky I'm not really the jealous type. I could have done a lot worse in there when you started flirting with Dirk." She comments breathlessly after, a displeased quirk to her mouth that hints she is in fact somewhat jealous.

"I'll make sure to do a better job next time then." You tell her in a feigned nonchalant way.

Leah stared at you then, her hand clutching the back of your neck as she gave you a look that warned you to not even think about such things. To be honest, you couldn't. You were hers just as much as she was yours. There was no other way to live than like that.

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso fic #woso imagine #woso #woso community

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bidisasterevankinard · 1 day

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Bt headcannon:

The rest of the 118 don’t actually tell Buck about the story of Maurice the chicken, because it’s more funny to vaguely allude to it and watch Tommy sweat.

Bobby will serve a roast chicken for a family dinner and Chim will say ‘that kind of reminds me about that time with Maurice-‘ and Tommy will beg Chim with only his eyes to leave it alone because, miraculously, Buck still thinks he’s cool and Tommy would like it to stay that way, thank you. ‘So Chim will smirk and back down. One time Buck will be boasting about Tommy and how he isn’t afraid of anything and Hen will say ‘you should ask him what Maurice thinks of that’, so that night Buck asks Tommy and Tommy just says, ‘Maurice doesn’t have a say in the matter’ and moves the conversation along as quickly as possible.

And then one night Buck’s working up to say something and Tommy can see that he’s kind of nervous and jumpy but Tommy just takes his time and waits for Buck to be ready. And Buck, who is trying to be very chill and mature, looks up at him and says ‘Is Maurice your ex?’.

And Tommy curses everyone at the 118 because he has to explain to his poor boyfriend that no, people aren’t teasing Buck about an ex of Tommy’s, they are just brutally terrorising Tommy with a story about one of the most embarrassing and unattractive incidents of his past.

I'M LAUGHING SO HARD 🤣🤣😂🤣 and yes it's so true and I love it so much!!!!!!!

And last part about Buck thinking it's about ex is so canon Buck

Talk to me about bucktommy, Buck or Tommy HCs please. Madney too if you want

#bucktommy #firefam

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fastandcarlos · 3 days

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Dating A⇴Z Headcanon ⇴ Charles LeClerc

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Charles is an incredibly affectionate person, particularly when the two of you are behind closed doors. He loves having you as close to him as possible, where his hands can rest on your waist or his fingertips can brush gently through your hair.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

You both knew of each other before you started dating, you’d passed each other a few times in the paddock and smiled politely at one another as you rushed around to get all of your jobs done for your teams. However as soon as you’d finished your first conversation, Charles was sure that you were someone who he wanted to get to know and spend a lot of time alongside.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

One night when things were starting to get packed up and everyone was preparing themselves to head home after the race, Charles took a hold of your hand and pulled you into a quiet corner, making sure that there was definitely no one around. He was supposed to be celebrating yet another podium but instead he found himself sat in front of you, pouring his heart out to you as he found himself unable to clear his mind of thoughts of you.

D ⇴ DATES

He treats you like the most important thing in the world when it comes to your dates, Charles pays close attention to the things that you like and organises things that he knows you’ll enjoy. Most of your dates are usually quite private as Charles hates to have your moments together ruined by fans or cameras. Your favourite date with Charles was when he took you out to dinner, with you both dressed up wanting to impress the other, enjoying endless conversation as you sat at a table which always overlooked the beautiful sunset of Monaco.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

It was well known that you weren’t the first partner that Charles had, but he was adamant that with you things felt completely different and more special than with anyone else before. At times you worried that you didn’t live up to those who came before you, however Charles was always there to reassure you and insisted time and time again that he was at his happiest whenever he was with you. He didn’t care how many times he told you, whatever relationships he had before didn’t matter to him now that he had found you.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

There are definitely moments when Charles can get quite passionate and sometimes you both tend to get a little bit heated with one another. However, Charles never lets an argument go on for longer than it needs to, mostly because he knows how little time you have to spend together, and he absolutely refuses to leave you for work knowing that the two of you aren’t talking. Even if you don’t want to talk to him, Charles will talk at you and make sure that you know how he feels and how sorry he is, especially when he reluctantly has to admit that he’s the one in the wrong.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

You were like another sibling in his family, you got on with his siblings like a house on fire and they were definitely fond of you. You’d felt welcomed by them since day one and it melted Charles heart being able to sit back and watch as you and his brothers made each other laugh and teased one another at every opportunity.

H ⇴ HOME

There was never any pressure from Charles for the two of you to move in together, but that didn’t stop him dropping hints constantly about how nice it would be. He loved having you at his place where he was able to keep an eye on you, and if he was honest, the day you agreed to move in with him was one of Charles’ favourite days ever.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

Charles was the first one to whisper those three little words as the two of you reunited at the end of a race. Monaco was special, but when Charles finally won it, he was on top of the world. As his arms wrapped around you, he whispered closely into your ear, wanting you to know how big of a part you’d also played in helping you finally win the race and achieve his dreams.

J ⇴ JEALOUS

He had his moments when Charles would find himself getting jealous, he wasn’t proud of it, but he couldn’t help being so protective of you and your relationship together. If someone started talking to you that left a sour taste in his mouth, Charles would stand a little bit closer to you and usually wrap his arm around you as if he was silently sending a message to the person to let them know that you were his and there was no point them even trying to get to know you.

K ⇴ KIDS

There was no secret from Charles that he wanted to have kids, but he also made it clear to you that he was in no rush and would happily wait. He promised to wait until you were both ready, but that didn’t stop him gushing sometimes about what an incredible mum you would be someday. Quite often you would snap Charles out of a daydream as he found himself wondering about how amazing a family of your own would be.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

The two of you were a double act together, you knew exactly how to make each other laugh which made others laugh around you too as they watched you both goof around. At times you had quite a blunt humour with one another, your dry jokes would leave you both sniggering and prodding against the other person in fits of giggles. You particularly found yourself laughing at Charles’ silly side, a part of him that he often saved for behind closed doors, not wanting to share that side of himself with the rest of the world.

M ⇴ MISSING

It was tricky for Charles to be away from you, he would always worry about you and want to know that you were safe. In the back of his mind, he’d never quite find himself able to not fret a little bit. Whenever he had a spare couple of minutes he would be trying to get in contact with you, keen to hear your voice and see for himself that things were alright. As much as he wished that you could constantly be by his side, Charles was also very supportive and aware of the fact that you had your own career and that sometimes you needed that time apart in order to both be able to achieve your dreams.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

Charles was full of nicknames for you, the sweeter the better as far as he was concerned. He loved when his nicknames were able to make your smile turn up and turn the colour in your cheeks into a slight crimson colour.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He was obsessed with your smile as it filled Charles heart with love. He was always wanting to make sure you were happy, and knowing that he was the reason for that smile made it all the more meaningful.

P ⇴ PDA

Neither of you were huge on PDA, however everyone knew that you were a couple. Charles often held your hand or wrapped his arm around your waist to make sure that you were by his side and didn’t end up getting separated from him, and when he felt his confidence grow, he’d be there to plant a sweet kiss against your lips.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

One of the things Charles loved to do was ask you questions about your futures. He was intrigued to know how you saw the rest of your life panning out, particularly when you talked about how you envisioned life with Charles.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

No one aside from you knew this, but in his race boot Charles kept a photo of you so that you were still with him whenever he raced. He slid it in randomly once when he was still a junior and it seemed to bring him luck, and so ever since then it had just continued to be routine for him. He never changed the photo, despite the fact after so many years it was getting damaged, as he never wanted to change his superstition.

S ⇴ SEX

The most important thing to Charles when the two of you have sex is that you feel loved and that you feel adored in his company. He’s surprisingly romantic when it comes to those intimate moments between the two of you, Charles can be quite vocal, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and running his fingers through your hair. He’ll do anything just to make sure that you know exactly how much he loves you.

T ⇴ TEXTS

It’s the first thing that Charles does when he wakes up in the morning, he always sends you a message to see how you’ve slept or wish you good night, depending on where you are in the world and your difference in time zones.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

You were the centre of Charles’ world and he couldn’t be prouder to make sure that everyone else knew that too. He gushed about you constantly and gave you a lot of credit for all of the amazing things he was doing in life.

V ⇴ VACATION

During the off season Charles loved to go away with you, switching off from everything and forgetting about the chaos that usually followed your lives. Your phones would be off and your attention would solely be on each other as you explored a new place together and made plenty of new memories with one another too.

W ⇴ WHINING

Although Charles was understanding when other people were around, that didn’t stop him from whining when you weren’t paying even just a small bit of attention to him too.

X ⇴ XXXX

You always felt the amount of love that Charles had for you in his kisses. Each one was delivered to you with sentiment and meaning, he never liked to just kiss you without reason. His favourite place to kiss you was against your cheek or against the corner of your smile as when he leaned over your shoulder to place it there it meant that Charles had the perfect view of your smile when he pulled away from you again.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were everything to Charles, he simply adored you.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

One thing about Charles that never fails to surprise you is how cuddly he is at night, he refuses to let you go and makes sure to hold you as close to his chest for warmth as possible.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

#f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 reaction #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 x you #formula one imagine #formula 1 fic #formula one #f1 fic

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greatstormcat · 19 hours

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TW: Omegaverse, poly 141

There were no omegas in the military, everyone knew that. It was a fact that they were too small, too weak, too emotional and unreliable. So as Price’s career neared its end and he prepared to retire, it was a shock to find the suppressants he had successfully relied on all the years failed.

Price who was bigger than most Alphas.

Price who had bested males bigger than him in hand to hand combat.

Price who could make anyone cower with his voice and presence.

Price who hadn’t had a heat cycle in longer than he could remember.

It would be hard to hide, his natural scent was already beginning to creep through the fake shit he’d used all this time. That sweet, enticing scent that would betray him to any Alpha with a nose on their face. He smoked his cigars, another tool he’d used to hide any hint of his natural hormones that might sneak through, but it wouldn’t be enough for long.

While he sat in his office, trying to work out what to do, the rest of the team began to catch the subtle hints on the air. The 141 were all Alphas so there shouldn’t be anything close to an omega in the area. Three highly trained males prowled the halls of the building, intent on finding the source, such a familiar note to it that it drove them mad.

When they finally tracked it to Price’s office, confusion had taken hold. The Captain emerged, face flushed and sweat streaked as his body hurtled towards its heat. No amount of cigar smoke and cologne could shield him.

“Sorry lads, gotta get to Medical. I’m coming down with something,” he hedged, head starting to swim as the world shifted around him.

“You’re not fit to walk around like this,” Ghost countered, quickly piecing together the last pieces of the puzzle. “Come on, we’ll get you somewhere safe.”

Brain fritzing with rushing hormones, buoyed along on the protectiveness of his three boys, Price was ushered to his quarters. A quick call to Laswell by Gaz had the building locked down, quarantined due to a mysterious chemical agent the Taskforce had been exposed to on their last op. For the next three days Price worked through his heat, insatiable and driven, an omega with teeth and strength. The three Alphas gave him everything they had, both in care and carnal lust.

Price hadn’t let himself experience an Alpha’s knot before, to feel it now, in the safety of his team’s embrace, was a devine blessing. Sweat kissed skin grazed by sharp teeth, heavy breathes in his ear, back arched as he ground back against firm hips, all of it drove him to the brink and beyond. When his heat finally broke, the four of them slept in a protective huddle, an illusion of a nest for the Captain.

This wasn’t what he had planned or wanted, but it was not something he would regret.

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rustedhearts · 3 days

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just friends (again) (roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: you’ve convinced everyone around you that you and steve are just friends. now you just have to convince yourself—but it proves difficult when steve finally admits how he feels.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ just friends (part one) ✶ the library

tags: pining, yearning, they want each other so bad they're so stupid, little angst/hurt/comfort, oh steve harrington the man that you are. didn't proofread so ignore any mistakes oops.

buy me a ko-fi! (my blurb commissions are also still open!)

“I’m having a little carpet picnic.”

Julia Roberts’ voice filled the living room with a familiar warmth. The pinks and whites of the Beverly Hills hotel room from Pretty Woman coated the coach and the surface of your face with a gentle glow. The Chinese food you ordered a few hours ago was starting to stink. Even Ted, who was curled at your feet for most of your movie marathon, could no longer stand the vegetative life and scampered away.

It had been a week since Eddie broke things off. After Steve punched him, you spent the Sunday post-knockout calling and texting, hoping to sort things out. But Eddie never picked up. Eddie never replied. You figured stopping by the shop was a bit too far—if he wanted to talk to you, he would’ve by now.

So here you were, spending another weekend on the couch. Single. Broke. Lonely.

“He thought I was cheating on him,” is the excuse you have for getting dumped.

But the look on Theresa’s face when you told her is the first time it made you recoil. The first time you doubted that Eddie was 100%, entirely out of his mind.

Theresa winced into the overpriced lattes you were drinking at a curbside patio on Wednesday. “Well…I mean…”

And you gasped, mouth agape and heart hammering in your chest. What the fuck did that mean? Because you were just friends. All Steve ever was and is: your best friend. Why did everyone act like you were having a secret affair when the doors were closed on the public?

“You’ve gotta be kidding me—“

“I’m not defending the prick,” Theresa justified. “He was an asshole for talking to you like that. But I can see why he might have thought that. You and Steve are really close. Like…very close.”

“We’re friends,” you insisted.

And Theresa dropped it, holding her hands above her latte with innocent agreement. But her words haunted you the entire week. Every time Steve filled your coffee and had it ready on the counter for your commute to work (he even used your favorite travel mug). Every time he came home with a bag of peanut m&ms when he dropped by the store because it was the little treat you always asked for, but he didn’t even need to be asked anymore.

But like any other Saturday, the apartment was void of him for most of the day. He mumbled some excuse about going to the mall through your door this morning, and when he came home twenty minutes into Pretty Woman with an Abercrombie shopping bag, you knew he’d been date shopping.

“Hey,” he called to you, door clamping closed behind him. His keys jingled on their toss toward the table cluttered with half-opened mail.

Cheek squished against a throw pillow, body splayed flat on the couch, you cut him a glance sideways and adjusted the volume. “Hey.”

Steve kicked off his shoes and set his bag near the door, making your chest tighten when he immediately sauntered toward the couch. He turned to the tv with his hands on his hips.

He asked what he always asked, despite his eyes watching the very thing. “Watchya watchin’?”

“Pretty Woman.”

“Did you already watch Mystic Pizza?”

“Yep.”

Steve sighed. “Damn. Alright, well, scooch over.”

When he plucked your feet up and flopped down under them, he smelled like the sickeningly sweet butter of a soft pretzel, and the overwhelming stench of Abercrombie & Fitch. You couldn’t believe he still shopped there.

His hands were still resting on your ankles, bracing your feet against his jean-clad thighs. His touch was warm, soft, all-encompassing—and suddenly all you could think about even as Richard Gere came on screen. Steve's touch, his heat, the body those hands came attached to resting just inches away. He was wearing blue today. He looked so good in blue.

You swallowed and coughed, cheek rubbing on the pillow. Steve’s finger twitched around your calf.

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” you croaked.

His eyes bored into you for a moment before he turned back to Julia Roberts. "Notting Hill or My Best Friend's Wedding after this?"

Your lips parted to reply, but then his finger began tracing shapes into the patch of skin between the bottom of your pant leg and the elastic of your sock. Air choked in your throat. Your eyes bulged on the glowing television screen. The muscles in the center of your body knotted and squeezed like nausea.

In your stock-still state, it didn't even occur to you that Steve somehow knew your entire I'm-sad-and-can-only-watch-Julia-Roberts-movies marathon setlist, but it certainly crossed your mind later on. You and Steve are really close. Maybe Theresa had a point.

"Um..." Your tongue darted out to lick your suddenly-dry lips.

"You good over there?" Steve chuckled, head tipping to gauge the features and their current predicament on your face.

You buried it further into the pillow, as far as it could go without hiding completely. "Yes, Steve, I'm fine."

Steve pulled back, settling into the couch again. "Jeez, oh-kay."

He waited a moment, and you inched free from your pillow enough to bring your eye back to the television, doing your best to focus on the movie you'd seen a million times and not Steve's hand sweeping under your pant leg. He'd done that a million times, too. Touched you. Felt you.

He held your hand when you crossed the road like a child that needed guidance. He braced your back to move you which way he wanted, and to pull you close when public situational occurrences arose that made him uncomfortable. He brushed your hair once when you were victim to an ungodly illness that had you picturing death. He removed your makeup on your birthday last year when you got so drunk you puked in the doorway.

His hands were always so gentle. His touch was always so soft.

But, God, why did it feel so different right now? Why did it feel so good?

"Want a mall haul?" Steve asked, too uncomfortable in the sudden silence of the living room. He was already standing and placing your feet back on their own before you could reply.

In your periphery, he headed toward the door to retrieve the bags he neglected. "Got a couple shirts to try. Also, am I too old for that store? I swear, everyone in there was like a little Taylor Lautner wannabe from 2012—meaning they were fourteen and on steroids—"

"Steve!"

He stopped. Standing at the edge of the rug with both hands on the corded handles of his Abercrombie & Fitch shopping bag to pull it open. The snicker gathering in his throat hitched into a snort, smirk drooping into wide-eyed surprise.

You never yelled. Not at him. Not at anyone that didn't deserve it, like the neighbors when they were arguing too loud again and you were trying to nap. Like the guy that tried to steal Steve's package a few months ago that you nearly tackled down the hall.

But never Steve.

You shot up on the couch, hands flying to your pounding head. "Just...please! I don't want a mall haul, I don't want to talk, I just...—I just wanna be alone."

Steve blinked, cheeks colored pink. He closed the bag slowly, paper crinkling as he went. He took it in one hand and backed up, stepping off the rug foot by foot. He glanced at Ted, who skittered in surprise at your outburst and was standing with an arched back and black pupils near the tv stand.

"Uh...yeah, okay. Sorry," he mumbled, scratching at the nape of his neck.

Your shoulders slumped, deflating into the couch as Steve turned his eyes to the floor and tugged at the back of his hair. That stress tick again—the one you hated causing. He turned slowly, caution stiff in his spine. You watched his finger twist and wind into a lock of chestnut hair as he trudged into the hall. His door clamped closed a moment later.

A heavy, moaning sigh shuddered from your mouth as you flopped back on the pillow. Two arms locked over your head, pressing down on your eyes to blind them and the horror you created.

"Slippery little suckers," Julia Roberts snickered on the screen.

"It happens all the time."

✶ ✶

You ate dinner separately. It was the first time you'd ever eaten dinner separately within the same four walls. Even the night you moved in together, when you were nothing but a pair of strangers gauging how weird it might be to live with the opposite sex without something romantic or sexual in the undertones—even then, you ate a greasy cheese pizza together on the living room floor with an empty box as makeshift table.

He asked all the right get-to-know-you questions, and when he successfully made you laugh with all his snarks and quips, you knew Steve Harrington would be an alright roommate. You never figured he'd become your best friend.

Tonight, you pouted into the salad you regretted purchasing yesterday because a "healthy" lifestyle was born and had died within the span of your forty minute shopping trip. And now, you wanted nothing but another wet, shiny pizza, and Steve Harrington's dumb jokes.

He ate in his room. Shuffled out while you were finishing Notting Hill and made another bland chicken-rice-and-broccoli dinner. And then he shuffled past you, shut his door, and ate it alone. Never even giving you a chance to tease his unseasoned plate for the purpose of "gains." You thought he could remain just as toned and handsome with flavor on his food.

By the time you were showered, redressed, and gurgling with lingering hunger, you were properly sour with guilt.

And maybe the black sweatpants with the bedazzled jewels on your ass were pulled on with manipulative purpose before you shuffled to Steve's door. You lingered there a while, gnawing on the skin around your thumbnail and glancing between the wood grain of Steve's door and the plush surface of your yellow slippers. At this proximity, you could hear the low hum of his radio behind the door. He had a strange affection for the 70s and 80s station.

If only you knew that it was because Steve knew "the all time hits of the 70s and 80s" were your favorite.

The radio dimmed, and a moment later Steve's voice called through the door. "I can hear you lingering out there."

You jumped, stepping away from the door. Your thumb returned to your mouth, teeth piercing the skin to nibble it away. The shuffle of feet and jingle of the doorknob came too swiftly for you to evade, and then the door swung open to reveal Steve in grey sweatpants and a tight red t-shirt. He looked good in red, too.

"Oh. Hi," you murmured, hand instantly dropping to your side.

Steve caged the doorway, biceps bulging on either side. You averted your eyes with a swallow.

He sighed. "Hi."

Steve watched you sweep a slippered foot back and forth like sloshing through water. He tipped his head and bit away a smile when he caught the edge of a jewel on your hip. His favorite sweatpants.

"Are you mad at me?"

Steve sighed again, this time a little shaken with laughter. "No, kid. I ain't mad at ya."

To prove his point, he nudged the door open with his palm and motioned toward the bedroom behind him. "Come on in."

You flopped on the edge of his bed, bounced up and down by old springs. Steve swung the door closed and joined you, easing back against his wooden headboard to reassume his rumpled position. He reached toward the nightstand and turned the knob on the radio to lower the Elton John song playing.

Steve snatched the small plastic basketball from behind the radio and tossed it in the air. "So, what's goin' on?"

You watched the ball soar into the air and come back down into his palm. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I was just...cranky."

Steve quirked a brow, catching your eye over an orange blur when he threw the ball again. "Yeah? That all?"

The corners of your mouth pulled down. "Yeah...? What else would it be."

Steve shrugged, chin turned up toward the ceiling as he watched the basketball fly toward it. Elton John died down and switched to Def Leppard. "Hysteria" was one of Steve's favorite songs.

"You tell me. You were having a Julia Roberts marathon."

"So?" Your thumb returned to your mouth, teeth ripping at the skin.

"You only watch Julia Roberts when you're sad."

"Not true."

Steve fixed his head straight again, eyes narrowing into a pointed look. The basketball sat in his right palm against his chest. You huffed, angling yourself toward the door to glare at it instead of your roommate and his smug, all knowing expression.

He waited a while, like he always did—waiting out your stubbornness and refusing to let it break him. You could talk to him, you knew that. He wanted you to know that.

"I guess..." You sighed, throwing yourself back on the bed with your arms locked over your eyes. "I guess I'm just upset that Eddie still hasn't called. I've been calling and texting him, but...he doesn't wanna see me."

Steve immediately felt every blood cell in his body curdle. Like they were burning and festering, irritated under his skin. He swallowed, bringing the basketball to sit between his knees where he could pick at the design with blunt fingernails.

"And you want to see him?"

You dropped your arms, letting them plop to your sides. "I mean...yeah."

Steve couldn't help it—he scoffed.

The sound had your head turning, brows furrowed his way. His head was shaking, eyes focused distinctly downward to avoid yours. All the smugness of his expression dimmed into something distasteful and angry.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Nothing."

"You scoffed."

"I sighed."

"No, you scoffed."

"Well—"

This time, Steve did sigh. He took the basketball in his hands and chucked it toward the door, causing it to boomerang off the wood and catapult back toward the mattress again. The sharp smack had you jolting upward, and your eyes widened on Steve when he hopped from the bed and stood to his feet.

"What the hell—"

"He's not good enough for you!"

You paused on weak wrists used to push you upward. Steve stood a foot away from the bed with pink cheeks and outstretched hands. They curled back toward him to sweep through his hair and tug hard at the roots.

"Steve—"

"He sucks. Alright? All your ex boyfriends sucked, but especially Eddie. He didn't understand you, he didn't appreciate you. He made you cry, for fuck's sake, and you want him back? I just don't get it."

Your lips parted, but it felt like gulping for water on dry land. And Steve watched, helplessly, as you stammered for words in the face of his impending and inevitable confession. Inevitably painful, he knew, but he could no longer stomach the tireless routine of finding the body closest to yours in another dark bar, hoping she would comfort him enough to soothe the ache he had for you.

You, who slept across the hall and shared the sofa with your head on his shoulder. You, who looked at him like some sort of light source with those little round eyes. You, who made his heart pound and weep endlessly every second that you were near, and every moment you were away—leaving him in a constant, centrifugal loop of torture.

So—knowing it might ruin every bit of good the pair of you worked so hard to keep—Steve stepped closer to the bed and swallowed. He prepared himself to form the words he'd practiced a million times over in his head.

"I just figured that eventually...you'd get tired of all the wrong guys, and realize that...I'm here. That it was me, that you loved me. Because I love you—don't you love me?"

He paused, but it would never have been enough time for your mind to process his proclamation. He had a look of such anguish embedded in his features, all scrunched and screwed together with wet, shiny eyes.

"And I figured it was easier to sleep my way around than sit and watch you waste your time with these idiots. But they were never you. And I never bothered to get to know them, because I only wanted to know you."

Your breath hitched when Steve crowded your corner of the bed, hands clasped over his chest. You had to tip your head back to meet his eye, and you felt your arms shake in their locked position holding you up. The sight of him blurred with the onset of your own hot, salty tears.

Steve sniffed: a wet slurp proceeded by a tear slipping down his cheek. He wiped it quickly and sank to his knees before you on the bed, hands coming to cradle your bent knees.

"I just can't take it any longer," he whispered, and his hazel eyes were like shiny coins gazing up at you.

His lips were wet with his own tears. His tongue swept them away. Every breath inhaled rattled in his chest, and every exhale shuddered his cheeks full. He chuckled when he rubbed his palm into his eye and turned it red, sweeping his forearm over his face to clear the tears again but they just kept coming.

"Fuck, say something, please," he huffed, lacing it with laughter despite its absence of humor.

Your throat felt like it swelled to twice the size. Sickness rolled in your stomach. But it only grew at the thought of breaking Steve's heart with your silence. Because the longer he looked at you with those almond eyes, and the longer he sniffled and massaged your knees to comfort himself—the more your heart crumbled.

"I...I don't know what to say," you croaked.

Steve inhaled again, stuttering through a sniffle. He wiped his cheek on your knee and chuckled again. "Yeah. Yeah, of course—it's okay."

"Steve—"

"It's okay," he insisted, scrambling to his feet. He backed away toward the door and you finished pulling yourself upright.

"Steve, wait—"

"Really, it's okay, honey. I'm just gonna...—we ran out of ice cream, so 'm gonna g-go—go get some. Mint chip, yeah? Okay."

He sniffled again upon his exit, slipping through a small crevice he opened the door to. The front door slammed shut moments later, and you rolled onto your stomach to unleash a scream into Steve's mattress.

"Stay tuned for more all time hits of the 70s and 80s!"

✶ ✶

Steve did not return with the mint chip until nearly midnight. It came in a plastic bag that announced his arrival even before the clamber of keys. Yet, it was the squeal of old hinges that woke you from your couch slumber, and you jolted upright as the door swung open.

Steve closed the door and stood there for a moment, spotting you in the dimness of the living room. You rubbed your eye and he shifted on his feet. Ted scampered off the couch and butted at Steve's calf.

He held up the plastic bag. "Got the mint chip. It's uh...it's all melted now, though."

You wanted to reply, to make him feel better again. His eyes were still pink and puffy, and you hated the thought of him spending hours in his car or another dark bar agonizing over what you might be thinking. Worst of all, regretting any of what he said.

Because you spent the past few hours doing plenty of thinking. You laid in his bed, curled on your side, and looked at all the pictures pinned to a cork board above his desk.

The sepia toned film strip from a wedding last fall where you took him as your date. You were smiling in every one, and to the unbeknownst you might have already appeared as a couple.

The Polaroid from his most recent birthday, where you were sitting on his shoulders and clutching onto his hair for dear life. His sister took the picture.

The black and white he printed from his phone of just you on a park bench, feeding the ducks. You never even knew he had that one.

And when you shuffled to your room, you suddenly stopped. The clack of hard-bottomed slippers caught your attention, and you looked down at the plush yellow footwear around your toes—a gift from Steve.

You stood on the other side of your bed and stared at the windowsill full of miscellaneous yellow items all gifted from Steve. The movie ticket stubs shoved in your mirror and the hundreds thrown in a box on your dresser because you'd probably seen a thousand over the years with Steve, who loved movie theater popcorn and sitting close to you in the dark.

The birthday cards he wrote extensive messages of well wishes and gratitude for your friendship in with terrible penmanship. The purse he bought you for that you said you liked in passing but would never spend that much money on, and the note still tucked inside the zipper that came pasted to the bag on Christmas morning:

Because you deserve it.

Love, Steve

And then you ended up on the couch, falling asleep watching the door and waiting for it to open.

Steve trudged to the kitchen while you were lost in thought, and you hurried to catch up as he swung the freezer open. He wrapped the plastic bag around the pint of the ice cream and stuck it on the top shelf, hand reaching to close the door—when he was pushed forward by a force crashing into him.

And then there was warmth around his stomach: two arms curling around his ribs. Two hands pressing to his stomach and pulling him in. Steve stopped, immobilized in the open freezer door.

"I'm sorry," you breathed into his shirt, eyes closed tight. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I was just so stunned. And I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot, Steve, for letting this go on for so long. Of course I love you, of course you love me—God, I just never wanted to ruin everything. But you make me so happy, and I—"

Steve spun around, causing your head to lift off his back. You went to drop your arms, but he instantly brought them around his neck. Two hands, still frozen from melting ice cream, braced your cheeks.

"You mean it?"

You nodded in his hold, happy to see his hazel eyes free and clear of tears. "Yes. Yes, of course I mean it—"

"Oh, thank fucking God," Steve breathed, and then his mouth descended on you.

You curled to the tops of your toes to press into his kiss, whimpering at the warmth and softness of his lips. It felt exactly as you thought it would—anticipating their plushness every time he pressed his lips to your cheek over the years.

It lasted until the pair of you were breathless, and you heaved for air upon release. Steve brushed his thumbs over your bottom lip, smearing spit and hemming your airless grin.

He kissed you all night, and let his hands roam where they could not roam before. You fell asleep in his bed tucked under his arm, and when you woke you shared the refrozen pint of mint chip with one spoon.

And when Steve called his sister while you were showering to share the good news, all she did was laugh.

"Jesus, about fucking time."

#rolly!#steve harrington #roommate!steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things

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animeyanderelover · 3 days

Text

I've just recently finally gathered the courage to buy a horror manga from Junji Ito and I've gone for Tomie and now that I've actually started reading it, I just can't stop thinking about having a female s/o based on a similar concept. Someone who has the uncanny ability to make people obsessed with her if they spend enough time with her and who always regenerates no matter how cruel her deaths are by the hands of very same people who fell victims to her strange powers and claimed to adore her.

After years of enduring death and obsession in an never-ending cycle again and again, I can only imagine how jaded and morbid reader would be with everything. She has fully embraced her cursed existence at this point because there is literally nothing she can do about it so at this point she has turned it all into a game. Every time someone else falls for her, she's basically playing the 'what Yandere type are you going to be?' in her head as she has seen it all. She has seen the possessive, the obsessive, the delusional, the overprotective, the clingy, the submissive and dominant, the worshippers and the sadists.

Reader can only sit back and watch with a mixture of pity and amusement in her heart as her newest victim is molded into another obsessive freak that she will live with and indulge their every whim for as long until they snap and she will die yet another death at the hands of her supposed lover.

There are a few worlds where I think such a reader would be especially interesting to let loose (by the way, there are spoilers for Chainsaw Man if you are an anime only):

In Hunter x Hunter I have two headcannons for a Tomie reader. Either she has a Nen ability. Considering that her mere presence would twist and change everyone's emotions as well as considering her regeneration abilities and other things she can do with her body, she'd either be in possession of two nen types which would be Transmutation and Manipulation or she would be a Specialist

The headcannon I consider to be far more intriguing though would be if reader would be a humanoid creature who originated from the Dark Continent but somehow found her way to the Known World. Imagine the Hunter Association or the Known World Government finding out about your existence and hiring skilled Hunters and assassins to track you down and murder you before your abilities could cause any panic.

Imagine Chrollo and the Phantom Troupe catching wind of the situation that is currently being hidden from public. Chrollo, who would be instantly intrigued to track you down and see for himself what a creature from the Dark Continent is capable of and who would keep you as his most priced treasure the moment the troupe has finally found you after searching for you for a long time. Who has to share with the rest of the Phantom Troupe as your mere presence eventually gets to them too, to some sooner than to others and who notices your mild surprise that they actually work together insted of slaughtering each other, something you must be used to seeing. Chrollo, who shares with you experiences in the Known World and adores listening to your stories about the Dark Continent where you were born.

To make it even more interesting, let's assume that you are caught and kept around the time Hisoka has infiltrated the Troupe. Hisoka, the only member Chrollo doesn't trust to leave you alone and neither do any of the other members. There are usually at least two other spiders with you when Hisoka is around but the clown takes it with slightly infuriated amusement as he gives brief glances in your direction, patiently waiting for the day where he can keep you for himself. He has to give it to Chrollo after all, the man knew just how special you'd be when he decided to go after you. He can't wait to steal you away right under the nose of the criminal~

Another possible scenario would be that the Zoldyck Family is hired to hunt you down and capture you as they were informed that you are akin to an immortal being. Imagine Illumi spending months tracking you down and successfully capturing you, though that is only because you do not resist when he finds you, only to never hand you over to the government. Instead he keeps you, black eyes staring fascinated at you whenever he sees you, his cold skin tingling whenever he touches yours, his chest clenching with a sensation he can't quite grasp. He only knows one thing though. That he needs more of whatever it is he feels when he sees you and touches you.

I've already explored this world with a Tomie reader before in this post but Jujutsu Kaisen would literally be perfect because reader could literally be the enbodiment of the curse of obsession which could be used to explain her immortality. No matter how many times she is killed or even exorcised, she will be reborn for as long as people obsess over someone else, no matter how superficial or deep their feelings really are.

Suguru would be an interesting choice that I didn't talk about in the Hc's I linked since he uses Cursed Spirit Manipulation to control curses. The question would be though whether or not Suguru would be able to exorcise and consume you to enable him to gain control over you and summon you at any given time he wishes. Ironically enough a relationship with you in a scenario where you would be a curse would probably be better for you than if you were human since Suguru doesn't look down on you nor would he judge you for your nature as it is the negative emotions of humans from which you were created. You have shared with him some stories of the past where you were murdered from non-sorcerers when they lost control due to your powers and it only fawns his hatred against the monkeys. There are always sweet promises whispered into your ears that he'll never hurt you like they did and you can only wait half-interested whether or not he will remain true to those words.

We could also go way back in time to the Heian Era and simply crown you as the Queen of Curses who stood by Sukuna's side as obsession over someone else is as ancient as the concept of love in all its twisted and radiant forms itself. For a curse to be so strong that it can even influence other curses would stir Sukuna's interest, though he never expected to fall under your spell himself. He is somewhat displeased that his resistance is that weak as he has had multiple women warming his bed before he consumed them and enjoyed their flesh yet he knows that you are a being that will be reborn even if he kills you. Now that you have done it and seduced him though, he'd much rather have you pay the price for it. From now on you shall be his queen. When he is sealed away, you go into hiding. You feel no deep grief in the centuries that follow, though Sukuna has certainly been more memorable than the thousands of other people that follow him, one as bland as pathetic as the next one. It isn't until the 21st century that Sukuna is finally reincarnated into Yuji's body, thrilled and excited about this chance to finally live again. Now he only needs to find his Queen again...

As someone who just recently finished Chainsaw Man, in this universe the reader could just be a devil who has the form of a young woman. You'd probably also assume the role of the Obsession Devil in that scenario and whilst you could just be a wild devil, I think it'd be much more interesting if you actually work sort of together with the Devil Hunters without being locked away like some other devils are. It's rather rare for you to make contracts yourself even if multiple Devil Hunters have willingly offered limbs, senses and much more to you to form a contract with you as you only accept a contract if you are actually interested in a Devil Hunter. Instead you find yourself often negotiating with other devils to convince them to form contracts with Devil Hunters as your influence to make people infatuated with you even affects other devils.

Extreme femme fatale vibes and interesting scenario would be if it is Makima aka the Control Devil herself who is no exception to your abilities. What would make this so unique would simply be that Makima is, just like her devil suggests, someone who represents the fear of conquest and is a woman who is always in control, no matter the situation. That would so very much contrasts with the fear you represent since an obsession is rarely something that can be controlled and both of you are aware of her feelings she harbors for you. You have little capacity to care about people around you as years of living through the same events again and again have made you jaded towards the very idea of attachment and love but perhaps it is the uniqueness of the situation that perks your interest as she can tell that you are testing the waters with her. Are you willing to play the game with her? You should be prepared for the possible consequences if your answer is yes.

Kishibe is one of the few people who you have ever approached and asked for a contract as he caught your eye when he first joined and decades later he takes pride in the fact that he is the one you have held a contract with for the longest time. Your condition for a contract have always remained the same. The moment the Devil Hunter you were contracted to would stop being interesting to you, you wanted his heart and until that point, you would assist them whenever they desired your help. Some sane people would consider those conditions as nothing short of lunatic yet a Devil Hunter rarely survives if they do not belong to the crazy kind and the first time you approached him, he could already tell why you were as desired as you were by many Devil Hunters. Kishibe has survived for as long as he did precisely because he is a madman and that is why your interest in him hasn't faded to this day. You fulfill his every wish in this contract yet he has held himself back in comparison to some of your previous Devil Hunters, though some things are always the same. Like the few other Devil Hunters who had a contract with you, he proposed to you and it isn't the first wedding you went through yet it is the first time you have let a contract last as long to the point where both of you already had a silver wedding to celebrate 25 years of marriage. You're going to miss this one the most when his time comes...

In One Piece a reader with such mysterious abilities could of course be suspected of having eaten a Devil Fruit but I personally would like you to instead be an ancient being that, according to rumors, originated from somewhere in the New World, though nothing about you has ever been revealed. Throughout history, you have only gotten yourself involved a few times yet whenever you did, you were the demise of entire nations yet the full extent of your powers remains as shrouded in darkness as the rest of you. Only the highest-ranked people in the Marine and are even aware of your existence and the World Government has been after you ever since they were established. Not only are your powers frightening but it is also the knowledge that you hold that has made you the most dangerous being in the Grand Line.

You have watched history unfold in front of your eyes, know about the Ancient Weapons and other events that occured throughout time that no one is supposed to know, know even about the darkest secrets of the Navy and know exactly where the proof for their hidden atrocities lies that would ruin their reputation. Whilst the citizens on every island do not know of your existence, in the Grand Line exist tales of you that parents commonly tell children as bedtime stories where you are usually portrayed as a monster. You know of that but you do not care as an existence as long as yours has taught you best that you are not even remotely a human, though your appearance may fool others into thinking otherwise.

I'm not quite sure yet about individual characters in One Piece yet but since I just recently finished the Marineford Arc, I can't help but imagine that after essentially centuries of laying dormant and only being a silent watcher, you finally decide to take an active role when news of Fire Fist Ace's public execution reaches you. Your eyes and ears are everywhere, you always know what is happening in all different oceans after all, no matter how much the Navy may try to hide it from the rest of the world. Though the news of the execution are not kept as a secret this time and reach ears on every island throughout all of the seas. There are no heroic motives though as you make your way. You're just simply bored and decide that messing with the Marine, the pirates and all the people who will watch it all unfold might be amusing and provide some thrill, even if only temporary. The world is certainly going to shake when they find out that the monster from the fairy tale has always been there yet those who will be exposed to your aura on that day will probably go out of their way to chase you down, pushed by their ever-growing obsession. You do not mind. It has been way too long since you've been entertained by them after all. You're just hoping that at least a few of them will prove to be more than yet another waste of your time...

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gubsbuubs · 2 days

Text

MASKED

(18+)

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 5K

Warnings: smut; mask.k!nk (kinda), creampie

Summary: When tasked with directing a new episode focused on y/c/n, Matthew and Y/N unexpectedly uncover a shared affinity for masks

A/N: Hey my loves! I know I promised an MGG director smut, but after giving it some thought, I realized the story I have in mind needs more development so it´s going to be a multi-part fic. Stay tuned for that! In the meantime, here's a little taste of a MGG smut.

Please let me know if you guys enjoyed the visuals. I love to see them in works so I wanted to try it out.

English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

Friday 11pm - Quixote Studios Trailer Park - West Hollywood.

Being an actress on the set of Criminal Minds meant that a time would eventually come when she'd receive a script with her character´s name in the title.

"Y/C/N – Directed by Matthew Gray Gubler" She read it out loud as she stared at the cover page of the script.

Y/N knew, she didn't even need to flip through the pages to know that Y/C/N was clearly about to go through some traumatic event in her story development as the youngst and newest member of the BAU.

She was thankful; yes, don't get it wrong, she´d been waiting for an opportunity to take her own storyline even further since she joined the show almost a two years ago, but she didn't expect a 'Y/C/N" episode, especially not one directed by Matthew.

With his knack for blending spine-chilling suspense with heart-wrenching drama, it was bound to be a wild ride - equal parts terrifying and captivating.

With a laugh, she muttered to herself, "Well, this calls for a glass of wine,". She made her way to the small refrigerator tucked into the corner, it was late, everyone was already wrapped for the week, and a sip wouldn't hurt.

After pouring herself a generous portion of red, she returned to her seat on the couch.

The script lay before her, gently resting on her legs, feeling its weight against her skin. With a delicate touch, she let her fingers skim the cover, tracing the intricate patterns and feeling the slight texture beneath her fingertips.

As she opened the script, her eyes were immediately drawn to a sketch that covered the opening page. Unmistakably one of Gubler’s stills. Matthew had a very particular way of bringing his visions to life—through meticulously drawn storyboards.

And there, in stark contrast to the white of the page, was the figure that would probably haunt her dreams for nights to come.

No expression adorned its featureless face; the black mask it wore was void of emotion and intent. It seemed to leer at her from the page, its presence ominous and foreboding. Her eyes then drifted to the bottom right corner of the picture, where the word "Phlegethon" was written in bold letters.

Intrigued, she skimmed through the pages, scanning the lines of dialogue in search of any clues that might offer insight into the enigmatic masked figure and the direction of the episode.

And then, she found it—a classic Spencer Reid rambling session. A familiar warmth spread through her as she encountered the distinctive style of the beloved character. "Perfect," she thought, a soft smile gracing her lips as she sipped on her wine before delving deeper into the script.

(BAU CONFERENCE ROOM - LATE NIGHT) The team is gathered around the meeting table, discussing the details of the new case. David Rossi: "I've just never seen this type of burning technique before, how the victims are left with only their heads burnt to a crisp, leaving behind blackened, charred skin." (Pauses) "Guess the unsub has a flair for the dramatic." Spencer Reid: "I know how he's killing them." (Rises from his seat) "It's right there, he's giving us a clue." (Approaches the board and rearranges the crime scene pictures - depicting black letters on walls behind the victims) "P" "H" "L" "E" (Looks back at the table again) "He's spelling his name." (Pauses again) "Phlegethon." JJ: "Reid, English, please."

Spencer Reid: "Phlegethon... In Greek mythology, Phlegethon is one of the five rivers of the Underworld, known for its fiery nature and its association with punishment and destruction. It's often described as a river of fire, a torrent of burning flames that consumes everything in its path." (Motions at the pictures again) "He's achieving this burning technique by painting the victims' faces with Greek fire. Greek fire, also known as 'sea fire' or 'liquid fire,' was a devastating incendiary weapon used by the Byzantine Empire during naval battles. It's said to have been composed of a mixture of various substances, including petroleum, sulfur, and quicklime, which probably explains the smell the firefighters reported." (Sits back down) "By painting the victims' faces with Greek fire, the unsub is ensuring that the fire burns with intense heat in those specific areas, consuming the skin with a ferocity unmatched by conventional flames, leaving behind only blackened, charred remnants." Emily Prentiss: (Confused) "But that doesn't explain the sheer brutality of the wounds found in the victims' bodies." Y/C/N: "Or the masks he reportedly wears, as mentioned by Marianne Smith, the almost third victim who managed to escape." Spencer Reid: "It's possible that the masks serve a dual purpose. Firstly, they could serve as a grim reminder of his handiwork, a twisted reflection of the charred, disfigured faces left behind by his method of killing." (Pounders for a second) "Secondly, the masks could also provide a layer of anonymity, allowing him to operate without fear of being identified. By concealing his face, he's able to move freely without leaving behind any recognizable features, making it harder for law enforcement to track him down." Luke Alvez: "The beatings could serve as a means of subduing or torturing his victims. The physical violence may not only serve to incapacitate them but also to instill fear and control, further amplifying their suffering."

Y/N lifted her eyes from the paper, bringing the glass to her lips. The smooth taste of the wine coated her tongue as she pondered the words she had just read. Eventually, she came to realize that kidnapping was what connected Y/C/N to that creppy man. As the BAU delved deeper into their investigation to catch Phlegethon, Y/C/N's would fall victim to his clutches.

Reading through the script, she couldn't help but flinch at the vivid descriptions of the torture scenes her character would endure. Well … there it was - the trauma.

Each page turned brought forth mounting tension, yet, amidst the fear and apprehension, there was also a strange sense of excitement. As an actress, she relished the opportunity to delve into the depths of her character's psyche, and portray the resilience and strength needed to survive such harrowing circumstances.

The quiet of her trailer is suddenly shattered by the creak of the door, causing her to jump in her seat. Before she could react, the door swung open, revealing a person standing in the doorway, their face obscured by a dark, featureless mask.

She let out a piercing scream, panic setting in as she scrambled backwards with her eyes wide with terror.

Then a sound cuts through the air: laughter, the unknown person in the mask reaches up, removing it and revealing a familiar face.

"GUBLER! You son of a bitch, you scared the shit out of me!" she exclaimed as she stood up to smack him in the arm.

“Sorry, I couldn't resist," he said between laughs. "But you have to admit, it was pretty good."

Shaking her head in disapproval, she sat back down, "Yeah, yeah, good one."

With a soft click of the door behind him, Matthew fully entered the room and threw the mask into Y/N’s lap. She glanced down at it, then back up at at her co-star as he took a seat beside her on the sofa.

"Soooo…. What did you think?" He asked as he picked up the script.

"Well… It's intense, to say the least." She let out a shaky laugh. "I mean, the storyline is gripping, but those torture scenes... They're pretty chilling."

"Yeah, it's definitely going to push some boundaries," he commented, glancing down at the mask. "Speaking of which, what did you think of him? Does the mask capture the essence of Phlegethon?"

"It's... haunting," she murmured softly. "Definitely adds to the creep factor, gives me chills just to look at it."

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.“Did you see who I cast for the role?"

She looked up at him, curiosity evident in her expression as her eyebrows rose slightly. "Who did you cast?"

“You didn't even look at the casting?" he teased, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I was too caught up in the story," she admitted with a sheepish grin as she took the script out of his hands and flipped to the last pages.

STARRING: David Rossi - Joe Mantegna Emily Prentiss - Paget Brewster Dr. Spencer Reid - Matthew Gray Gubler Phlegethon - Matthew Gray Gubler Y/C/N Y/C/LN - Y/N Y/L/N Jennifer Jareau - A.J. Cook Penelope Garcia - Kirsten Vangsness Dr. Tara Lewis - Aisha Tyler Luke Alvez - Adam Rodriguez Matt Simmons - Daniel Henney

She stared in disbelief, her eyes widening with surprise. "What? No way”

"Oh, way, my sweet Y/N," he murmurs as he swiftly snatched the mask from her right leg. His fingers accidentally touching her exposed skin. Goosebumps immediately rose on her legs involuntarily.

With a wide smile he places the mask on "I'm gonna be haunting your dreams tonight," he whispered in a spooky voice.

As Matthew waved his hands in a ghostly manner in front of her face, she stood still, analyzing his barely noticeable features under the mask. In the dimly lit trailer, only accompanied by the small hum of her mini-fridge, she found it weird how into it she was getting by seeing Matthew with a mask on.

It wasn't that he needed to cover his face to look good, I mean, have you seen the man? He looks good all the damn time. But there was something strangely appealing about the way he looked in that eerie disguise. Creepy, but good.

Her heart was beating a little faster as she caught herself admiring the contours of his jawline, the way his nose perked up under the mask, and how his slender neck appeared from the gap between the mask and his slightly unbuttoned oversized patterned shirt.

Now silently standing before her, there was something undeniably hot about the mysterious aura he exuded.

Suddenly he reached out, his hand lightly resting on her arm. "I'm sorry, did I actually scare you?"

She cleared her throat nervously. "No, no," she waved her hand dismissively, trying to brush off the effect he was having on her.

"You're sure?" he pressed, adding reassuring pressure to her skin.

Her skin was warm, soft, so couldn’t help but notice how goosebumps formed on her skin under his fingers.

"Yeah, it was just..." She sighed, not wanting to give away the fact that she actually felt turned on by this. "It was weird seeing you like this."

Unconsciously she let her hand meet his cheek, analyzing the way the black fabric hugged his features without giving his identity away. “You look, I don’t know... different."

Now it was his turn to get goosebumps. He could feel his face getting hotter as her hand caressed the shape of his jawline. The fluster creeping up his neck was probably visible to her as she studied his masked face attentively.

He locked his eyes on hers and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was witnessing something beyond the ordinary. Was he seeing things, or was that a glimmer of lust? Desire? Her cheeks flushed with a warmth that mirrored his own, her delicate touch tracing the contours of the mask with an intimacy that set his pulse racing. Her breathing unstable, coming out in small quickened breaths.

It couldn't be... could it? Was the mask somehow affecting her, stirring something she wouldn’t dare to acknowledge?

The mere thought made his heart pound faster in his chest and he swallowed hard when he noticed the unmistakable tightness in his pants.

"Different how?" His voice was low as their proximity increased, so close now that if either dared the only thing separating them was the black fabric.

She took a deep breath,"You look... mysterious,".

He chuckled slightly “Is that a good thing?”

“Humm… yeah” her tongue darted out to wet her lips before she caused her bottom lip in between her teeth. “a very good thing.”

He was definitely not seeing things, if he ever did need a confirmation that was it. As she flashed them a smile with her bottom lip caught up in between her teeth his mind was racing at 1000 mph. She looks so innocent before him, so soft and fragile, but the look on her eyes was that of darkness and desire and he couldn’t ignore it even if he tried.

"Do you like that?" His voice was a low, teasing murmur, and although concealed by the mask, she could sense the mischievous lift of his eyebrows. “Do you like how mysterious I look”

She swallowed hard as her pulse quickening at the playful challenge in his voice. "I do," she confessed.

"You know… I’ve got to be very honest Y/N" the pressure he applied on her arm raised as he carefully knead the skin under his finger tips. "I could get used to you looking at me like that."

A small, innocent smile adorned her lips “And how exactly am I looking at you?"

He chuckled softly, his smirk growing wider "You really want me to describe what I see in your eyes?"

She simply nodded in confirmation.

He gently took her chin in his hand, tilting her head up "Okay," he murmured, his thumb traced the contour of her jawline. "Let's see... I’m sensing …a mixture of desire and curiosity. It's like you've just discovered something new about yourself… something exciting and a little dangerous.”

She felt her cheeks flush gently looked away.

“No, eyes on me!” He commanded holding her face in place “You’re scared but also excited…. I would even dare to say, turned on…”

Her eyes widened in surprised as she came to realize she wasn’t being a subtle as she planned. “I.. I… don’t … what?”

He chuckled as she struggled to find the right words. “It’s okay I feel the same… I’m actually pretty worked up to”

Her expression lit up “You are?”

He nodded his head in confirmation “You have no idea how much you’re driving me crazy right now”

She looked unsure, confused even like she could never believe the undeniable and pretty noticeable effect she was having on him.

“Do you want me to show you Sweetheart?” His left hand met hers.

Without being able to form a proper answer, she uttered a simple, “Please.”

Matthew took her hand and placed it on the visible bulge that imprinted his pants. Her eyes momentarily left his covered face to glance down, trying her best to not start moaning at how good his cock felt under her touch.

She began to caress him, feeling the heat and firmness through the fabric. Her fingers traced the outline of his erection, eliciting a throaty groan from him as he threw his head back.

Her strokes grew more deliberate, fingers gliding over the hard ridge and pressing lightly, teasing him and feeling the way his cock throbbed under her hand. As she continued to caress him, she felt the tension in his body build, his hips subtly rocking forward, seeking more of the pleasure she was giving.

Unable to resist any longer he moved up his mask just enough before he reached forward, tangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her close. He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing a trail along her sensitive skin, earning a sweet moan.

His other hand slid down to her chest, gently caressing her breast through the fabric of her dress.

His other hand slid down to her chest, gently caressing her breast through the fabric of her dress. “Is this okay?” Matthew whispered

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice tinged with longing, reveling in the sensation of his hands on her body.

He kissed right below her ear before he spoke “Tell me what are you thinking right now?”

Her eyes fluttering closed. “You’re making it hard to think,” she admitted.

“Good,” he murmured, “Then I’m doing something right”

He leaned down to meet her lips, his tongue lightly sweeping over her bottom lip. She surrendered to the kiss, her body shuddering as his tongue danced with hers. Her fingers found their way to the back of his neck, gently tangling in the curls that peeked out from under the mask.

With a soft moan, she deepened the kiss, tugging on the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. He followed her lead, pressing against her as she laid back.

His fingers trailed along her exposed thigh, the fabric of her dress riding up as she wrapped herself around him.

He melted into her, his breath mingling with hers as a quiet, involuntary moan escaped his lips, intensifying the throb of his cock against the fabric of his pants.

His teeth grazed the delicate skin of her neck, and with a sigh, she tilted her head to the side, granting him access as he began to suckle gently on her skin, leaving a trail of warm kisses in his wake.

"Fuck," she moaned as she pressed herself closer to him, his breath hitched as he rocked his hips against her, the friction growing intense between them. Their bodies moved together, and it was becoming almost unbearable as they both craved more.

Her hands tugged at his shirt, desperate for more contact, and he let out a low groan, his fingers gripping her hips tighter, holding her close and increasing the pressure against her core.

“Matthew” She panted, her voice filled with urgency, "we shouldn't be doing this here."

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his breath hot against her skin.

"Please no!” she sounded desperate, her body betraying her protests as she grownd her hips against his croch. "It´s just.. we're at work," she pleaded, torn between desire and reason.

He chuckled softly, his lips still trailing kisses along her neck. "You're right," he murmured, his hand gently moving the strap of her dress down, exposing more of her soft skin. "We really shouldn't be doing this."

His hand skimmed over her breast, his touch gentle yet possessive as he caressed her through her bra. She shuddered, her skin breaking out in goosebumps at his touch. "But I don't think I can stop now," he whispered, his voice husky with desire, as he pulled the straps down, exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze.

"Some… Someone…” she stumbled her words, her voice tinged with urgency. "Someone could walk in any minute."

But her protests were met with the delicious sensation of his lips circling around her left nipple, lightly grazing it with his teeth. A whine escaped her lips as his hand kneaded her right breast, alternating between a gentle caresses and rougher grabs.

"Then tell me to stop, Y/N" he challenged, his hands moving to the hem of her dress, slowly raising it up as he positioned himself between her legs. His touch was firm as his lips brushed against the skin of her hip, teasing her with their proximity.

She moaned, her voice a desperate plea as she pushed his head down, craving more of his touch. He responded eagerly, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on the skin of her stomach.

"What if someone hears?" Her eyes searched for some type of reassurance as he settled his head between her thighs.

"What if?" he asked as he placed a kiss inside her thigh "Just let them hear how good I'm making you feel."

She let out a moan, her breath hitching with desire before she quipped "Wait!"

"Yes, sweetheart?" He raised his head to look at her, his hands rested on her thighs where his fingers traced small circles, teasing and tempting her further.

With a swift movement, she reached up and pulled the mask off his face. "This was fun but I want to see your face when you eat me out,".

That earned a wholeheartedly laugh, his eyes sparkling in the dim light now that the mask was gone. "You've got it," he replied.

His fingers gently moved her panties to the side, and as soon as she was bare before him, he couldn't help but let out a groan at the sight of her, so wet and inviting, begging for his touch.

"I've been dying to taste you," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers as he lowered himself between her legs. Then, without breaking eye contact, his tongue made contact with her slit, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her lips.

Her back arched in response, and her hand flew to his hair as he explored her with his tongue. The room was filled with the sounds of wetness, and hums of pleasure.

His tongue drew circles on her clit before taking a long stripe from bottom to top, catching her bud between his lips once again. "You taste better than I've ever imagined,".

His fingers traced a path from her hip to her lips, and she eagerly welcomed them into her mouth, coating them with her saliva. A moan escaped him, sending vibrations against her clit and intensifying the pleasure coursing through her body.

As she threw her head back in ecstasy, he took his fingers and lightly breached her entrance, initiating a slow, pumping motion. Her grip on his hair tightened, seeking steadiness. He continued to explore her with his fingers, feeling her walls clench around him in response to his movements. With each thrust, she felt herself edging closer, unable to contain the building tension within her body.

"You look so pretty," he whispered.

"Matthew," she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper, "don't stop."

"Can you please cum on my tongue," he pleaded. "You taste so good, baby."

Her legs trembled as her cunt dripped and he hungrily lapped up every essence, savoring the taste of her pleasure.

Her legs trembled as she ran her hands through her hair, trying to steady her breathing.

He sat up in front of her, a satisfied smile playing on his moist lips. "You're incredible," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration "I could do that all day."

"Me too," she chuckled as she sat up, meeting his lips in a desperate kiss. She undid the buttons on his shirt, each one revealing more of his chest.

"Arms up," he instructed as he rose in his feet, with ease he swiftly removed her dress and bra, revealing her soft skin, adorned only in her panties.

His hand met her cheek, his touch gentle yet possessive, as he stood before her.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as she leaned forward, letting her fingers trace the outline of his bulge. With delicate movements, she unbuttoned his pants, and they fell to the floor with a soft thud. Carefully, she wrapped her fingers around him, lightly pumping his cock before taking his pink tip into her mouth. His head flew back, a guttural moan escaping his lips as she took him deeper, her tongue swirling around him with precision.

"You're going to have to stop," he gasped, his fingers entangled in her hair as she looked up at him, her mouth still working wonders on him.

“Please," he pleaded, his voice thick with desire, "I need to be inside of you."

She released him with a soft pop, and he felt like he could have cum right then and there, especially with that smile she just flashed him. God, she looked so pretty kneeling before him like that.

He reached forward, wrapping his fingers around her neck gently, and she followed his lead, sinking back onto the sofa. He lowered himself on top of her, his weight pressing into her as he settled between her legs.

With a hungry look in his eyes, he reached between them to grab his thick and throbbing cock. Slowly, he guided it to her entrance, teasing her with the tip as he felt her wetness coating him. With a slow motion against her slick folds he finally sank into her.

She was a moaning mess against his lips as he fully bottomed out, her walls stretching deliciously around him, welcoming him deeper.

He began to move, savoring the feeling of her warmth enveloping him. His movements increased in speed and intensity as her moans grew louder, filling the room with the sound of their bodies coming together.

He glanced down, watching as her wet cunt hungrily swallowed his cock, now glistening with her juices. The sight of himself disappearing inside her, inch by inch, was almost too much to bear.

"Fuck, you look so good taking all of me," he growled, his voice thick with lust. His hips moved with primal intensity, driving into her with a fierce, unrelenting rhythm.

Her moans grew louder and more desperate as he filled her completely. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

"I won't," he promised, his breath hot against her ear. "Not until you cum on my cock."

He reached down, his thumb finding her clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure. She cried out, her body arching into him as the added stimulation pushed her closer to the edge.

“Oh my God," she panted, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

"I can feel you squeezing me." He groaned, his thrusts becoming progressively urgent and demanding. "You're going to cum for me, sweethart?"

"Yes," she whimpered, her nails digging into his back as she clung to him. "Yes, I'm so close."

A final, powerful thrust was all it took for her walls to clench around him as she reached her peak, her body trembling with the force of her release. He groaned in satisfaction, feeling her shudder beneath him.

The sensation of her pulsing around him was his undoing, he had to cum. He was about to pull out, but she circled her legs around him, holding him in place.

"Keep going," she gasped, her voice barely coarse.

"Oh, please don't," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I'm not going to last."

"Please, come inside of me."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"Yes, please," she pleaded. "Fill me up."

With a guttural moan, he couldn't hold back any longer. His body trembled fast against hers as he released inside, filling her with his warmth. "Fuck," he muttered, his climax hitting him hard.

He collapsed on top of her, both of them breathing heavily as they layed intertwined.

She smiled up at him, a satisfied look in her eyes. "That was amazing," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair.

He kissed her forehead gently and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You're incredible," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her swollen lips.

Matthew reached for the tissue box on the counter, gently cleaning her up. He got up, and she adjusted her panties back into place.

Extending his hand, he helped her to her feet. He found her bra first and handed it to her with a soft smile.

“Here you go,” he said, his voice warm. She slipped her arms through the straps, and he stepped closer, clasping it at the back with ease. His fingers brushed lightly against her skin, and he placed a kiss on her shoulder. Next, he picked up her dress and held it out for her. As she got dressed, he turned to find his pants, pulling them on.

"Let me help you with that," she said, stepping closer to him as he got his shirt on. Her fingers deftly worked on the buttons fastening them with care.

After they were both dressed, they stood in silence for a moment, the air felt heavy with the remnants of their intimacy.

Matthew's gaze wandered to the floor, where the black mask lay discarded. Bending down, he picked it up, the smooth surface cool against his fingertips. A small grin tugged at the corners of his lips.

"So, we accidentally discovered we're into masks, huh?" he chuckled, holding up the mask between them.

Y/N burst into laughter. "Seriously, how the hell are we supposed to film the episode after this?" she exclaimed between giggles.

Matthew laughed along “Yeah, it's going to be really difficult to not get hard in front of the whole production team"

"I'll never look at masks the same way again," she admitted "Thankfully, I do not l come across a lot of them."

"Well, I have to admit, I do have quite the collection of masks back home," he continued, raising his eyebrows "I don't know if you know this, but Halloween is kind of my thing."

"Oh, really? I had no idea" Y/N said in an ironic way, a playful grin spreading across her lips. "Is this your way of inviting me back to your place?"

"Maybe," Matthew's lips curved into a smirk, “But.. humm… actually" he began, his voice sincere. "I want to know if you would you like to go out to dinner with me? Like, a proper date?"

Y/N's eyebrows shot up in surprise "Matthew, we just had sex. Shouldn't we be doing things the other way around?"

"I know it might seem backward, but... I really like you, Y/N and I want to do things the right way. So, what do you say?"

"I'd love to go on a proper date with you," she replied with a smile.

#matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthewgraygubler #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler pics #mgg #mgg x y/n #mgg x reader #mgg smut #mgg fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

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jakesangel · 3 days

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how it would be like to date w high school jake ꣑୧ - requested

overall jake was/is nerdy n popular, his good grades in physics n his perfect scores in football made him known as the sim jaeyun who wanted to do music / somehow ?ᩚ / because of that i think he had lots of friends n was also popular w girls.

football player

- he would often ask you to come to his games or even to his practice, wanting to show you off his skills but also showing YOU off to his friends

- would be the type to kiss you during practices, everyone cheering him up

- would even fake injuries so you could take care of him n makes u kiss him

please, come see me at my game, you're my lucky charm bb, he would say the day before the tournament final, a small smirk on his face. if you'd say no or pretending that you won't, he'd take your hips in his hands, forcefully pully you closer, i like to see you in my jersey, i need to see you in it to win. please bby, as his voice goes lower, almost coming out like a murmur. as you finally asgreed, he'd smile would come back, giving you a quick peck before running towards the fields.

physic genius jake

- lots of study dates ᵎᵎ jake doesn't like to study but is naturally good w number so if you struggle w them he is more than willing to study to help you. either at his place or yours in his favorite because it can also means having fun later whereas in the library he has to stay focus

- would be so so proud of you when you get good grades thanks you his teaching n your hard work

- he would do project w you only, leaving his also-not-good-at-science friends calling him a simp

violin player jake

- he would ask you to come over during the weekends to see him practice his violin.

- he would learn your favorites songs n surprise you during those practice.

- he would even play it for you during anniversaries knowing it made you happy.

outside of school jake

- he is busy but will spend them as lunch time w you as possible meaning he will prioritize you over his friends n will make sacrifices towards his football duties for you.

- lots of dates during school break n love going to the beach w you, his friends, n your or dates w layla as well ᵎᵎ

- he would introduce you to his family n you basically be apart of them w the number of time you'll come over so that means lots of sleepovers or even so inviting you for xmas n such ᵎᵎ he would also expect you to do the same for him, as family is very important to him.

want to come to dinner with my family baby ? my mom misses you n layla too, he would often ask you, only meaning that he misses you, studies n football practice tqking too munch of his time. as you read thru him, n accepting, he would be happy the rest of day, completely forgetting the english test he has later that day. but yk my mom really does loves you, he'd add w a pout, i think she love should more than me. she always wants me to give your her cookies and omg layla can't get calm down sometimes. he would keep on nagging until he can't pretend anymore, and you know i miss you too, my princess. i can't catch a break lately n i might pass out lacking of vitamin U.

notes : haii anon i hope you enjoyed it ᵎᵎ i tbh felt a bit uncomfortable talking about minor jake, i hope it's still good nonetheless <3

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @stwrjvke @amouriu @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee

#enhablr #sim jake fluff #jake fluff #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jake #jake soft hours #sim jaeyun #jake sim #jaeyun fluff #jake x y/n #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #enhypen jake fluff #jaeyun imagines #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #jake enhypen

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chloewriteswhenshewantsto · 2 days

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Afterglow

Authors Note: It’s me. Hi. I’m back with another attempt at “writing”. This is an angsty one this time. I felt I should learn to write something that pulls at the heartstrings. I hope this doesn’t disappoint.

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton X Female! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Period Specific Sexism

Word Count: 2.9K

Anthony looks up from his desk, rubbing his tired eyes as he calls out a gruff. "Who is it?"

The rain outside continues to batter the windows, the sound muffled but still audible through the thick oak door of his office.

Anthony's expression softens immediately as he sees you standing in the doorway. He smiles, setting down his pen and pushing himself away from the desk.

"Love, what are you doing up at this hour?" he asks, his tone gentle as he looks over to you. "You should be in bed."

“I couldn’t fall asleep without you.” you admit sheepishly. “The bed doesn’t feel the same without you in it.”

Anthony's smile widens, his heart swelling with a tender affection as he hears your admission. He steps closer to you, his hands coming up to tenderly frame your face.

"You know I'd rather be in bed with you too, darling," he murmurs, his voice gravelly with tiredness. "But the ledgers won't balance themselves, I'm afraid."

“Surly you can do them in the morning, you’ve been working so hard lately, my love.”

Anthony lets out a weary sigh, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he holds your gaze.

"You know I'd love nothing more, sweetheart," he admits, his exhaustion clear in his voice. "But there's so much work to do. I've been neglecting my duties, thanks to our trip to the country"

“You have been in here all day, it is past midnight surly you can rest now.” you say frustratedly. Your husband is a hard worker, but the dark circles under his eyes betray him. He needs to rest.

Anthony flinches slightly at the tone in your voice, the frustration in your words evident. He lets out another sigh, his hands dropping from your face and going to his hips.

"I know I've been working late, darling," he says, his voice quieter now. "But there's just so much to do. The ton relies on me to keep the estate running smoothly, and with the ball coming up, there's so much to prepare for-"

“Then let me help you lighten the load, I might not know how to balance the books but teach me I am a quick learner. Surly two heads will be better than one.” you say, pleading with your husband to let you help ease his burden.

It is not a woman’s job to deal with finances, you know this, and your husband is a proud man that will want to take the pressure off everyone but himself. You can only hope that he is too tired to argue with you tonight.

Anthony hesitates for a moment, torn between his natural instinct to handle everything himself and the desire to please you.

"Darling, it's not your job to help me with all this," he starts hesitantly, his gaze flickering between you and the papers scattered on his desk. "I'm supposed to take care of everything, that's my responsibility as the viscount-"

“And what of my responsibility as your wife?” you interrupt him sharply. “Is it not part of my duties to help you when you are struggling.”

Anthony falls silent for a moment, your sharp words cutting through the air like a knife. He looks at you carefully, his expression a mixture of surprise and contemplation.

"Of course it is," he admits quietly, his shoulders deflating a fraction. "Be that as it may, these are things that I'm supposed to handle, sweetheart. The estate, the financial planning-"

“I wish to help, I wish to spend time with my husband outside this office!” you frustratedly plea.

Anthony's expression darkens, his shoulders tensing as he struggles to keep his own temper in check.

"You know I wish I could spend more time with you, darling," he snaps back.

"You think I don't want that too?" he retorts, his voice rising slightly. "You think I enjoy spending every waking moment in this damn office, bogged down by paperwork and figures? But it's my job, my responsibility-"

Anthony continues to rant, his frustration and exhaustion getting the better of him as he snaps at you.

"I don't need another problem to deal with. I don't need you hovering over me, trying to help, when I'm the one who has to carry the weight of this estate on my shoulders. You're already distracting me enough as it is."

The words hang in the air like a poison, their harshness cutting deep.

"You need to stop being so bloody needy!" he snaps, his tone sharp and frustrated. "I'm doing the best I can, but there's only so much I can handle! You're asking me to do the impossible. Besides, what on earth could you possibly know about running an estate? All you know is dresses and tea parties and silly little gossip rings, you don't know the first thing about what I’m going through-"

Anthony immediately regrets his words the moment they leave his mouth, his eyes widening in alarm as he realizes the damage his words have done. His lack of sleep and his patience that has been holding on by a thread that has finally snapped.

The words hang in the air like a poison, their harshness cutting deep into your heart.

Anthony's face softens immediately as he sees the tears welling up in your eyes. His anger and frustration disappear, replaced by regret and guilt as he realizes the impact of his words.

"Wait, darling, I didn't-" he starts, reaching out a hand towards you.

“I am sorry I didn’t realise I was another problem that you had to deal with, my lord.” you say stonily, taking a step back from his reach. “I shall leave you be.”

Anthony winces at your formal address, the coldness in your tone cutting through him like a knife.

"Wait, no, that's not what I meant-" he tries to explain, his voice filled with remorse.

Anthony stands there, frozen, as the door swings shut behind you. The sound of the rain outside is suddenly deafening, drowning out the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears.

"Shit," he mutters, raking his hands through his hair in frustration. "I shouldn't have said that, I didn't mean it...fuck." he curses out, swiping the papers of his desk in anger.

Anthony storms over to the corner of the office, pouring himself a generous glass of whiskey. He downs it in one gulp before pouring himself another, the whiskey burning its way down his throat and into his stomach. He paces the room, his mind a maelstrom of guilt and self-recrimination.

Anthony spends most of the night in his office, drowning himself in paperwork and the bottle of whiskey by his side. He tries to focus on the figures in front of him, but his mind keeps drifting back to you.

He can still hear the echo of your hurt and angered voice in his ears, the way you'd shut the door behind you with a sharp click. It pains him how callous and cold he'd been to you, how he'd let his frustration spill out in the worst possible way…

As the first rays of sunlight start to filter through his office windows, Anthony finally falls asleep at his desk, head resting on his arms, his dreams plagued with visions of you. Countless apologetic notions fill his thoughts, he will make things better. He has too.

———————————————————————

Anthony groans, as daylight makes its way through his office windows. Lifting his head off the desk, memories of last night come rushing back, and with them, the sharp pang of guilt. His head is pounding from the liquor, his neck aching from the awkward position he slept in. He sits up, rubbing his temples with a weary groan, the events of the previous night playing over in his mind on repeat.

"Bloody hell," he mutters to himself, shoving a hand through his disheveled hair.

Anthony spots a maid walking down the hall as he emerges from his office, his expression still weary and guilt-ridden. He stops her, and with a gruff in his voice from tiredness, he asks her.

"Excuse me, have you seen my wife this morning? Where is she?"

The maid, a young woman with a cheerful smile, gives Anthony a puzzled look as he stops her in the hallway.

"Good morning, my lord," she says, a little taken aback by his weary and disheveled appearance.

Anthony runs a hand through his hair, attempting to straighten it but failing.

“I have not seen the viscountess this morning, my lord. Would you like me to check with the other maids on her whereabouts?” she respectfully responds.

His heart sinks at the maid's response. He had hoped that he would find you wandering the halls, ready for him to apologize and make things right. But instead, he is left with a sense of confusion and growing dread as to your whereabouts.

"Yes, please. Anything you can find out would be greatly appreciated. I need to speak with her urgently." he says tiredly.

The maid nods her head in understanding as Anthony dismisses himself to ascends the stairs with a heavy heart, his mind still spinning with guilt and worry. As he reaches the door to his bedroom, he hesitates for a moment, taking a deep breath as he mentally prepares himself to face you.

He quietly pushes the door open, peering into the bedroom to see if you are there.

Anthony's heart drops as he sees that the bed is still made and empty. You are nowhere to be found, and he immediately starts to panic.

"Damn it, where is she?" he mutters, stepping further into the room as he looks around frantically trying to find clean clothing to change into.

Stepping out of his room, Anthony runs through the hallways of the estate, calling out your name frantically as he looks in every room and corridor, his footsteps echoing loudly. He checks the library, the study, the drawing room, anywhere he can think of where you might be, but you are nowhere to be found.

"Damn it, where are you?" he repeats, his voice ragged and desperate. "Please, love, where are you?"

As Anthony is running through the estate, he is stopped by a staff member who approaches him urgently. His eyes immediately snap to theirs, a flicker of hope and desperation in his gaze.

"What is it? Where is she?" he asks urgently, his voice betraying his anxiety.

Anthony listens intently to the staff member's words, his heart hammering in his chest as he hears the words "gardens". Without a moment's hesitation, he spins on his heel and takes off in that direction, his steps quick and determined.

Anthony's heart stutters in his chest as he sees you, tucked away in a tranquil corner of the gardens, reading a book. Relief floods through him, but it is quickly replaced by guilt and worry. He pauses, watching you for a moment, his eyes taking in your figure, the sight of you a balm to his weary heart.

Taking a deep breath, he steels himself and starts to walk towards you. Your eyes meet his, and he is struck by the sight of you, sitting there under the tree, reading like nothing had happened between you. His heart clenches in his chest, and he opens his mouth to speak.

"Darling," he says, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"

“I suppose so, if you are not too busy that is.” you dryly respond looking up at him.

Anthony flinches slightly at the cold tone in your voice, but he doesn't blame you for being angry. He takes a seat on the grass next to you, rubbing a hand over his face in exhaustion and regret.

"I am never too busy for you," he replies softly, his gaze fixed on yours. "I... I wanted to talk to you, to apologize for last night."

Your expression does not give him hope that this will be an easy conversation for them to have. Feeling nervous he gestures towards the book in your lap, his expression softening.

"May I ask what you're reading?" he inquired, his voice quieter now, almost nervous.

“It is a book on mathematics, I thought it would be smart to fill my brain with things other than dresses and endless gossip.” you respond hitting back at him for his earlier words.

He winces at your words, his shoulders visibly tense as he absorbs the sting in them. He knows he deserves it, after everything he said to you last night. But still, the reminder of his careless words hurts.

"I deserved that," he admits quietly, his eyes downcast. "And I am sorry, for what I said yesterday. It was careless and cruel, and I didn't mean it, truly. You are not another problem, love. You are my partner, my wife. I was just... frustrated, overwhelmed."

Releasing a sigh you meet his eyes. You can see how tired he looks, how vulnerable.

“I know that, which is why I wanted to help. I never meant to become another issue that you had to deal with when you are already so busy.”

Anthony's heart aches as he sees the hurt in your eyes. He reaches out a hand, tentatively resting it on your knee.

"You are not an issue," he says firmly. "You are the furthest thing from it. I was out of line, love, and I'm sorry. I... I should have let you help, should have been grateful that you cared enough to ask. I know how difficult it is for you, sitting at home while I'm stuck in that office day in and day out."

“You hurt me you know, with your words,” you say sadly. “I went to bed alone last night and I cried for what seemed like hours. Then I thought of how angry I was with your stubbornness, so I woke up this morning and went straight to the library because as much as I am upset with you I still love you too much to see you end up in an early grave because you worked yourself to death.”

Anthony's heart clenches as he hears your words, knowing he is the cause of your pain. He lets out a shaky breath, his hand tightening on your knee as he hangs his head in shame.

"I know," he says quietly, his voice thick with regret. "And I don't blame you for being angry with me, I was a fool for saying those things to you. You have no idea how much I regretted those words as soon as they left my mouth. I hurt you, and for that, I am truly sorry. Tell me how can I make it better."

“If you wish to make things up to me you may sit with me and teach me what you know of accounts. I do not wish to have this argument again so I wish to know so I may lend a hand when you truly need it.”

Anthony's eyes widen in surprise at your suggestion, but he quickly composes himself, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He nods slowly, his hand still resting on your knee, a warm and reassuring presence.

"I'd be happy to teach you," he says softly. "And I promise, I will never be that careless again, love. I'll ask for your help next time, I swear it."

“Hmmm, you better.” you gently smile at him. “Also if I am to help you I would like a desk. A large one.”

Anthony chuckles weakly at your request, a mix of relief and amusement at your stubbornness. He nods, his gaze fixed on you.

"Of course, love. You'll have your very own desk, right next to mine. And I'll make sure to explain everything to you, I promise."

You lean over to kiss him gently. Placing a hand on his cheek. You can never stay mad at him for long you blame his face.

“You know if we are to spend more time together in your office, we might need to think of a way to destress after all our hard work.”

Anthony raises an eyebrow at your words, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Oh, and what do you suggest we do to... 'destress', love?" he asks, his voice dropping lower, a hint of something dark and suggestive in his tone.

“Hmmm something like this prehaps.” you say as you climb upon his lap giggling.

Anthony's breath hitches as you climb onto his lap, and he instinctively puts his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His eyes darken with desire as he looks up at you, a smirk on his lips.

"I like the way you think, love," he laughs, his hands traveling up your waist.

The staff can't help but overhear the sound of laughing and joyous voices coming from the gardens, and a wave of relief washes over them. After all, witnessing the viscount and viscountess argue and bicker wasn't a comforting sight for them. As they continue about their work, they can't help but feel glad that the tension between you and Anthony has been lifted, replaced instead by playful banter and laughter. A happy couple suited the viscount and viscountess a far lot better than a bickering one.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton #taylor swift #lover #afterglow #taylor swift lyrics

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