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kpopnstarwars · 2 months

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Atonement: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: fic i wrote with @triluvial 's lovely idea

tw: 18+, smut but pretty soft, oral (f recieving), so so so so much angst, fluff after tho dw, swearing, hints of sa and pedophilia from the baron, baron is also creepy to reader but not explicitly, u gotta bear with my yapping in the beginning but it gets good i promise, inkpie

wc: 3.9k

headcanons for this universe

When you married Feyd-Rautha, you were warned of many things. His cruelty, both in and out of the bedroom, his bloodlust, his uncontrollable rage, his violence, his complete and utter lack of mercy. They told you he was psychotic, he was a cold blooded murderer, he was insatiable and that you’d be lucky to last a year with him, and yet, they never cautioned you of his sheer, unerring indifference.

Before your marriage, you fancied that he’d be like fire; raging, searing to touch. You went as far as to wish to tame his inferno. Late at night, when you could not sleep and doubt wreathed your thoughts, you also considered that he’d be like ice, like the colour of his piercing eyes, glacial and cold, devoid of anything soft or sweet.

As a child, you saw him fight in the arena. There he blazed with passion, his victor’s smile a cruel curve upon his face, his knife blade stained dark with fresh blood: he was mesmerising. At that time you were beginning to understand that your future had been sold to this violent man, and you resented your parents for it - now you realise that it went deeper than that, that it was rooted in generations of religion, of whisperings of the Bene Gesserit. Still, even then, you found the way he burned intriguing, and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

But you were wrong. He turned out to be neither fire nor ice, just stingingly, dismissively apathetic. His eyes slide right over you when he happens to pass you in the corridors, as if you’re lower than a servant, lower than the rare rats that survive Giedi Prime’s conditions. You suspected your marriage would be painful, wedded to a man such as he was, but you didn’t think it would be this damn lonely.

You wished he hated you.

That way, at least you’d mean something to your husband. At least then vehement, savage emotion would rise within his gaze whenever he looked at you, not that horrible, polarising blankness. You wish you disgusted him, because then he’d at least he’d speak his mind - you had learnt that he spoke with brutal honesty, uncaring of the consequences.

Maybe to him, that’s all you are. A consequence of being high born, of being the na-Baron. You mean nothing to him, and he treats you as such; to him, you are less than the speck of dust on the floor, less than a grain of sand in his beloved arena.

It’s not that you wish for him to dote on you, nor love you or devote himself to you. You just wish he would look you in the eye and feel something; you’d rather him stare at you in revulsion and call you names that you can’t even think up yourself than the dead, lifeless detachment that clouds his face when he sees you in your shared chambers.

Feyd-Rautha has never laid a hand on you in violence; in fact he rarely touches you at all. The last, and only time he kissed was during the wedding day, and he makes no moves to be in bodily contact with you any more than he has to be. You are obliged to produce an heir from him, yet even in these infrequent encounters it seems as if it is a chore for him - he takes no pleasure in your body nor does he try to pleasure you, and he makes no sound when he takes you, staying as long as it takes for his seed to fill your womb before leaving without a word. On those nights, your thighs tremble as you stumble to the bathroom, only allowing your tears to fall once the shower water is searing on your skin.

During the first month of your marriage, you did everything in your power to please him. You thought maybe you weren’t pretty enough for him, maybe you were not desirable as a wife, so you always smiled at him, made an effort to fill the silence that pervaded the air around him, bringing up topics you knew he would enjoy, like the arena, like his love for knives and duels. To even that he would not reply, rebutting your questions with monosyllables or simply ignoring you. You stopped once he began to leave the room while you were mid sentence.

It is now your fourth month locked in this marriage with an uncaring man, and all you feel is bleak, crushing resignation. Somehow, Feyd-Rautha seems to take more interest in conversing with his brother than you.

You wonder if he has forgotten your name. He addresses you simply as ‘wife’ - that, and nothing more, the title leaving his lips like an accusatory curse, reminding you that if you did not serve a purpose to him, and if decorum did not restrain him, he’d have disposed of you by now, either by slitting your throat or simply abandoning you outside the palace grounds, not even bothering to end you himself.

The palace in question is lonely, but you feel the loneliest when you lay awake at night, shivering on your side of the bed as Feyd-Rautha slumbers to your right. Tears always prick your eyes during those moments, but you stifle them, afraid that you’ll rouse him with your crying; you do not know what you’ve done to garner his mistrust, but many times you’ve glimpsed the knife he keeps beneath his pillow, the cold blade glinting in the moonlight.

Often you wonder if he has a secret lover, and that is why he does not bother with you. You wake up sometimes and he is gone, but soon you realised that he would visit his concubines, especially after he had bred you. You would finish your shower, unable to wash off the feel that you were dirty, you were just an animal, a mindless thing to produce an heir for him, and he would be lounging in the antechambers of your quarters, ignoring your presence with the three harpies wrapped around him, whispering in his ears and caressing his moonlight skin. They accompanied him everywhere he wished, even in public, and to begin with, you felt humiliated that he would so explicitly show that you were not to his satisfaction.

Now, it just makes the solitude even worse.

You find solace in no one. More than once, you have walked in on the servants laughing behind your back, and as it became evident your husband was uninterested in you, they did not hide their mocking. The Baron’s other nephew you hardly saw, and the Baron himself terrified you: there was something in the way that he stared at you, his beady eyes glittering from where they were set deep within his putrid flesh, that made you feel more soiled than even after Feyd-Rautha took you.

So you remain isolated, speaking only when spoken to, drifting through the palace’s wide, dark hallways like a ghoul, a mourning spectre. You can barely remember your life before, just wisps and fleeting flashes of colour that ridicule rather than comfort you.

To Feyd, it is obvious who you are. A spy, commanded by his uncle to report every single one of his doings to you; he cannot slip up once around you, cannot reveal his weaknesses, that he is desperate to be loved, to be seen as someone whose only use is not war. He sees the way his uncle looks at you, hungry for information you do not have because he does not impart it, the way the Baron comments on you and the way you flinch at his words, pretending that you do not report to him.

Feyd is determined in his resolve to give nothing away. His uncle has held power over him since he was young, he refuses to give him even an inch over him now. He still has nightmares of it, which he wakes up from with his pale skin sheened in clammy sweat, clammy like the hands of his uncle.

Sometimes, he sees the tears in your eyes after he fucks you. The first time, he almost stopped, almost asked you where it hurt, but you turned away before he could, acting, always acting; acting when you smile graciously at him, acting when you ask him what his favourite type of blade is, what his favourite form of swordsmanship is. You are good at pretending, but of course you are - his uncle is the Baron, a man who bathes in power. No doubt he would get only the best of spies.

Tonight, you are not where you normally are. At this hour, you are usually asleep, or feigning it in the very least, curled up small on your side of the mattress, yet the bed is still made, the sheets unrumpled and smoothed down as they were this morning. Feyd thinks that maybe he might catch you reporting to his uncle, so he strides out of your shared chambers, pausing in the doorway to listen carefully; as a boy, he hunted in forests that have now been chopped down and industrialised, but he has maintained his keen ears long after the last wild plant on Giedi Prime’s surface choked on the fumes of pollution.

There’s a soft noise, barely perceptible, that echoes down the corridor to his right. Silently, he tracks it down the labyrinthine passages of the palace, servants scurrying out of his warpath, bowing their heads to him - he wonders if they too report to his uncle, if they travel now to his quarters to inform him of his beloved nephew’s whereabouts.

Feyd wishes he and Rabban were brothers first before rivals. Then he could have someone to rely on, someone who he trusted in this palace built on lies.

Pausing, Feyd cocks his head. You huddle in a crumpled heap at the end of the corridor, your knees hugged tightly to your chest, head low as if under a crushing weight. It occurs to him that maybe the Baron was displeased with your efforts to gain information and made it known to you - a pang of pity tugs at him, for he knows what his uncle’s wrath is like. At least you have been spared from the sole thing worse than that - the Baron’s thirst.

‘What are you doing, wife?’

Your head snaps up, Feyd-Rautha’s unfeeling voice kindling a rare burst of temper from you. Is it not evident to him what you are doing? Or is he just too blind to see the tears streaking down your cheeks? Your words are injected with venom when you speak, and you hope that it stings him for leaving you alone in this cold, dark place.

‘So now I am of concern to you?’

Feyd is taken aback by the indignant arch of your brows, the resentment displayed in your eyes. It takes him a moment to register the harshness lacing your voice - you have never addressed him in this way - and another to digest your words. There’s a bleakness in your wet, tear stained face as you stare up at him, and shock too, as if you did not expect yourself to speak against him this way.

Something clicks into place.

Feyd recognises that look in your eyes. He recognises it, because he’s seen it in the mirror a hundred times before; haunted, harrowed, lonely. He remembers nights when he trembled beneath the cold sheets of his bed, when he was small enough that he felt like he was drowning in the black satin, his eyes wide as the fabric seemed to wend around his limbs, tying him there as he lay fearful of everyone, fearful that his uncle would summon him. Even young, he was so terribly aware of not knowing who he could trust and who would turn to the Baron, bearing information like knives to split open his childish skin and spill his guts on the freezing stone floor.

It broke him. He is barely a shell of a sentient being, repressed emotions wreathing like ghosts around his frame, his eyes hollow, his heart decaying. In his fear, he was blinded, and he pushed you to the place where he had been all those years ago, so terribly, terribly alone - you are stronger than him, for lasting this long.

Sharp, plunging, dread sinks in his stomach, weighs down his soul; he has done unspeakable things to you, treated you like a dog, like a whore - worse. How can you look at him without hatred in your eyes, spite?

Bile rises in his throat, his heart seized by a dark, burning anger. He has done this to you, he has slashed your skin and left you bleeding, and yet all you did was try to please him. In an effort to save himself, he trampled you under foot; in order to keep you out, he left you surrounded by shadows. Feyd has never hated himself so much, has never despised who he has become with this much furor.

Slowly, he crouches before you. Eyes wide, you shrink away, misreading the direction of his rage, flinching when he reaches out a hand. Pressing your back against the wall behind you, you turn your head away from him, fear causing tears to spill down your cheeks: he sees the way you will the stone to swallow you up, knows the feeling.

‘Please don’t hurt me,’ you choke out, hands trembling uncontrollably.

Something deep within Feyd’s soul withers and dies at your words. Forcing his jaw to unclench, his hands to release the fists they held, he shoves down his anger. The fury is for later, for when he has made things right - for now it is you that is his priority. Too late, a voice whispers in his ears, too late, too late, too late -

Gods, he deserves to burn at the fucking stake for this. He deserves eternal hell for this, he deserves worse. He is a fool: a blind, blundering fool, stuffed to the brim with paranoia and cynicism.

He sucks in a breath. ‘I will not hurt you. You have my word, whatever it is worth to you. I - I have made an irredeemable mistake, I - ’

After his first sentence, you have not heard him. Tears of relief soak your face, and you whisper needless apologies for them; it is an arrow through his heart that you fear him so - yet the pain is where it is due, justifiable for the way he has shamed you, belittled you.

‘May I - may I touch you, my wife?’

You do not know why you nod in reply of your husband’s strange request, but the moment you do, strong arms pull you into a solid chest, and a sob leaves you - he is so warm, warm enough to banish the seeping cold embedded in your bones, warm enough to let your sorrow flow anew, soaking his shirt as your hands bunch in its fabric, so that if he is cruel enough to leave you here, at least he will have to fight to do so. You have not been held in a long time.

Each of your shuddering sobs is a knife blade twisting in Feyd’s spirit. He lets the pain wash over him, clings to the way you burrow into his arms, a kind creature in the embrace of a monster. At one point, in the throes of your crying, you beat at his chest, telling him that you hate him, and he takes it with a bowed head, stroking your hair and holding you tighter once you exhaust yourself; this is only a fraction of his atonement.

You fall asleep in his arms. He carries you back to your quarters, and only once the door is closed behind him does he let his tears mingle with yours. Keeping you cradled to his chest like a child, he pours a glass of water for you to drink in the morning, knowing you will be dehydrated; he sets it on your bedside table before laying you down on the mattress.

You don’t let go of him, even in your sleep. His heart clenches, tight in his chest, and he drops a kiss in your hair before lying down beside you.

He believes he will love you, if you will let him.

Consciousness leaks slowly into your mind, and you blink, squinting through the beam of light that filters in through the curtains. From your months spent here, you’ve realised that Giedi Prime’s atmosphere is normally churned up with violent storms and choked with pollution, so this ray of sun that falls against your pillow, warming your face is far from unwanted - nor is the pale forearm tucked around your waist, firmly so, but not trapping you either.

Your husband’s chest fits snugly against your back, his breath warm and steady against your skin; his fingers splay out across your stomach, gentle, communicating so many things that were left unsaid. Vaguely, you remember falling asleep, nestled against his chest, tears drying on your cheeks.

When you roll over, you’re unsurprised that he’s already awake. With blue eyes softened by the sunlight, he regards you, fingers settled at the small of your waist. Something clouds his gaze, and he shifts, propping himself up on his elbows.

‘I owe you an explanation.’

You wait silently, unperturbed by the way he clenches his jaw. He vowed to you last night that he would not hurt you, and you trust that. Wordlessly, his lips open, then close, and you patiently watch him, far too well acquainted with how this man struggles to let down his guard - even now, you cannot read the twisting of his features, the way his eyes squint as he looks at you.

‘I - I thought you were a spy sent by my uncle,’ he finally confesses. ‘My uncle… when I was younger, he,’

Reaching out, you cup his jaw in your hand, running your thumb along his cheekbone until he relaxes. You see the battle in his eyes, to let go, to tell you the knowledge that he thinks you deserve, but you see with it the years of hurt, of solitude. Something hopeful, something beautiful blossoms within you - the realisation that this wounded beast before you is someone that you could grow to love; you want him to bare his scars to you, those that are long healed and those that still seep with blood.

‘All in good time, Feyd,’ you assure him quietly.

He sighs, touches his lips against your palm. ‘I am sorry, my wife.’

Slipping your hand down to grip his shoulder, you lean closer towards him so you can kiss him. An anguished sound leaves him, and you see clearly how he realises that he has wronged you, how it pains him, and yet how the taste of you awakens something tender within him - you marvel at it, that it has survived, buried within him for so long. Perhaps he will let you love him.

Feyd is neither forward nor insatiable in the way he kisses you. In fact, he pulls away first, moving to get up from the bed despite the way your hands grip his shoulders, and you almost doubt that he wants you before you glimpse the longing in his eyes that lingers before he pushes it down. You wonder if this man knows how to make love or if he just knows how to fuck, you wonder if he feels the same molten feeling in his stomach that you feel and that is why his movements are tinged with nerves as he gently escapes your grasp. It is clear to you: he does not want to scare you.

‘Must you go?’ You ask, tugging at his fingers.

He tilts his head. ‘I don’t know if you want me here, after what I have inflicted upon you.’

A streak of bravery takes ahold of you. ‘Please, Feyd, I want you.’

You delight at the fire that ignites in his eyes upon your words. He wastes no time in returning to your side, dropping a sweet tasting kiss to your lips before taking your chin in his hand, eyes searching yours as he sits between your thighs.

‘Tell me if you want to stop,’ he says. ‘Yes?’

‘Yes,’ you echo, blood heating your cheeks.

Feyd kisses you again, giving you time to rescind your reply if you want, but you just tug at the hem of his shirt, drinking in his sculpted chest when he pulls the black cloth over his head. Delicately, he trails his lips down your skin as he undresses you, his broad hands warm where they encircle your waist, holding you flush to him as his calloused palms explore your body, skimming over your spine and caressing your breasts before settling on your thighs and pulling them open.

You’re terribly aware of how wet you are when his eyes settle on your pussy. Instinctively, your knees tip inwards, your face growing hot at the hunger in his gaze, but his broad shoulders block your legs from closing, followed closely by his hands which gently push them back open. He smiles at the blush high on your cheeks, rubbing his thumb over your ankle in order to put you at ease.

The sound you make when he pushes his fingers into your cunt and curls them almost makes Feyd moan. You tremble for him, bashful, and he can feel himself rock hard against the mattress, aching for the tight clamp of your velvet walls. He wants to bury himself between your thighs, and so he does, your sweet slick exquisite on his tongue - he presses kisses like butterflies to your thighs, your hips, worshipping you as his fingers pump in and out of you to the same pace as your heaving chest.

You look beautiful, gilded by the sunlight, lower lip trapped between your teeth, but he doesn’t miss the way you grip the sheets with one hand, the other clapped over your mouth, panting as he pleases you. Stroking your thigh, he pauses, licking your slick off his lips.

‘Let me hear you,’ he bids.

You blush again but obey him, tremors wracking your body as he sucks on your clit, laving his tongue over it until you throw your head back, eyes rolling as you come, your honeyed moans and hot release exquisite upon his senses. He wants more, needs more of the taste of you, but you tug at his shoulders, whining for his cock, and he’d rather die than deny you.

The way you say his name when he buries himself inside you sets his soul on fire. You look beautiful beneath him, shaking and whimpering from the hot pulse of his length, clawing at his shoulders until he wears red marks that he’s proud to bear, moaning into his mouth when he kisses you. It seems you cannot get enough of him, and Feyd is more than fine with that because he finds himself addicted to the feel of you under his hands, begging him for more.

Feyd remains entranced long after he comes inside you, with you, your cunt spasming around him. You draw close to him, intertwining your legs with his as he kisses your face, your neck, your chest, making sure he has not hurt you, making sure you are sated. Curling your fingers under his jaw, stopping him, you look him in the eye and smile before kissing him, and he finds himself mesmerised again by you.

He is certain you will let him love you. He is yours.

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libraryofgage · 4 months

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Been watching sooooo much say yes to the dress so.....

Steve and Robin are consultants and co-designers at Kleinsfeld. Robin especially loves designing and Steve really loves that moment brides find The Dress because they light up and he helped make that happen and it just makes him smile

Enter Eddie Munson, rockstar and definitely not in a relationship but at Kleinsfeld to find a dress he can wear for an upcoming music video that's a little corpse bride vibes re revenge and murder (dead bride raised by necromancer and given opportunity to get revenge on her killer ex)

Eddie shows up with the guys and Steve/Robin are their consultants (they can't be separated bad things happen like Robin knocking over a rack of dresses bc Steve isn't there to pull her back in time) and when Steve (knows who Eddie is, doesn't care that much, they get celebrities all the time) asks who the bride is neither blink at Eddie raising his hand with a shit eating grin

They just go right into the design/style/budget questions and Eddie is almost disappointed he didn't get to cause more of a scene lmao

Anyway Steve is the one helping in the dressing room and he's getting Eddie into this big dramatic ballgown when Eddie asks why he's a consultant

Steve inadvertently just rambles about helping brides and making them feel the center of attention and cared for and special during their appointments. He also talks about designing affordable but fashionable dresses with Robin since he has experience with high fashion and general design and she knows best about keeping costs down without making things ugly

Obviously Eddie Munson is immediately heart eyes listening to this guy describe all of this while expertly lacing a ballgown corset and getting clips in place so it fits right and before he knows it Steve is leading him to where Robin and the band are waiting

The guys are immediately all giving Looks (derogatory) but can't describe what's wrong until Robin looks at Eddie and asks if he's adverse to negative feedback

Eddie is like "???? No, I guess???"

And is just even more confused when Robin goes, "No. Really, think about it."

So when he says it's fine Robin pushes Steve forward and tells him to let loose. Eddie is surprised cuz Steve is so sweet? How could he possibly be mean? And then Steve just holds nothing back like "the color washes you out, that beading makes your chest look uneven, the ballgown is actually a horrible silhouette on you because you just look uncomfortable having so much dress hanging off you"

And he says it all with this little popped out hip and slightly pursed mouth and raised eyebrow and it's so so bitchy and Eddie is fucking in love okay, he's gone, he needs to make fun of other people with Steve immediately

But also he's a gremlin so he's like "can a guy even look good in a wedding dress tho, like, does it matter?"

And Robin immediately jumps in like "of course it does you plebian especially if you want the music video to be any good"

This leads to Eddie and the guys not believing them so Robin and Steve share A Look and they do love proving people wrong so they're both like "bet" and tell Eddie to wait there

Cue them grabbing a sample dress (click to see what I'm thinking literally this is such a pretty dress holy shit) from their collection, putting Steve in it, and then showing it off

Eddie is dead. Immediately. Steve's arms? His legs? His chest? His confident little smirk as he spins in front of them?? 4 braincells dead and 28 injured in Eddie’s head

Anyway he literally ends up on his knees begging Steve to be in the music video, Steve agrees cuz he thinks Eddie is hot and funny, and CC fans lose their shit over the bride and his dress in the music video, especially when he and Eddie kiss at the end after the revenge murdering

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #stobin #robin buckley #corroded coffin #rockstar eddie munson #designer steve harrington #say yes to the dress #my writing #the brainworms here are unbelievable #maybe I'll write it one day #idk have to see how long it lingers hfkshfks #bitchy steve harrington my beloved btw #i love that for him

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csainzoperator · 6 months

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yummy: LN4 ☆

summary: y/n is a chef in the mclaren hospitality who is famous for her fabulous recipies. everyone is head over heels for her recipies, and a certain someone is most definitely more than head over heels. but not just for the food.

(lando norris x fem!reader)

read more under the cut!

itsmey/n has posted!

another day at work! for the british gp, their special "sticky toffee pudding" was a success :)

tagged: landonorris and oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, lewishamilton and 76,123 others.

landonorris it was so yum (she fed us the so called desert forcefully after giving us a 4 course meal)

- oscarpiastri you're such an ungrateful brat. it was great, bestie itsmey/n

- itsmey/n thank you pastry, and lando...i might leave you to starve to death.

lewishamilton i would kill for a pudding rn! you should drop by merc hospitality y/n!

- mclaren look at you trying to steal our goddamn chef....

f1wagsss oh my god you're so pretty

landonorris has posted!

P2 AT HOME RACE BABY!! so proud of the team to be finishing at P2 and P4. also special thanks to y/n for feeding us well :)

tagged: oscar piastri and itsmey/n

liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55, itsmey/n and 872,182,283 others.

landonorizz are we gonn ignore the fact that y/n just made it to a lando post???

lechaaair OH Y/N FEEDS US TOO. SHE SERVES ALL THE DAMN TIME. MOTHER 🙏🏼🙏🏼

itsmey/n its literally my job tho...?

- oscarpiastri some people are bad at their job. he's appreciating you for being good. (lando you fr have no rizz man)

carlaando lando are you trynna make a move GN

- landonowinss BROS PROBABLY REGRETTING RN 💀

(time skip!)

it was the hungarian gp. you were in the mclaren hospitality. the mclaren kitchen was quite big, and your co-workers were extremely sweet. you mainly cooked for the drivers and mechanics, while guiding the others. you were tasting a dish when you feel a presence behind you. you immediately recognise who it is.

"what is it now, lando?" you ask with a knowing smile on your face. he sits down on the counter beside you and watches you as you work. "i was wondering if you would like to, maybe, just maybe, come outside with me and sit down and talk and get some food you know?" he blabbers

"are you asking me out on a date?" you tease him. "well, yeah. only if you want it to be. its okay if you say no" he says with a sad smile on his face. you cup his face with one of your hands and give his cheeks a squeeze. "ofcourse i'll come, dumbass. now shoo, let me work. you're too distracting"

the smug smile he has on his face makes you blush. "so i am distracting huh? what else am i? you can give me details when we go on that date" he winks at you and walks off. you just simply shake your head in amusement.

the date goes well. to be honest, more than well. you both have the most fun ever. lando is everything that you craved. he was the sweetest boy. day by day, meal by meal, both of you started talking more, discovering each other. one fine night, in his apartment in london, where you taught him how to bake his favourite cake, he surprises you by asking you to be his girlfriend. you say yes without hesitation. you knew he wasn't going to play around with your heart.

it was the brazilian gp. lando had placed P2 again! you were the proudest girlfriend to exist, and the happiest. you were just so incredibly proud as he was doing so good this year.

itsmey/n has posted!

brazil you were brilliiianttt <3 liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, landonorris and 92,233 others.

f1wags HOLD UP. SOFT LAUNCHING????

oscarpiastri yuck i hate being around the hospitality now.

landonorris 🌟

- carlandodod PLS IM NOT OK WHAT DOES THIS MEAN.

- leclercvc oh. my. god. guys. i think its lando and y/n.

f1gosssip apparently some people saw looking for his "girlfriend" after the race, and some people even saw him kissing a girl in the mclaren garage! we hope its y/n 😫

y/nfannn MOTHER WHO IS THAT

landonorris has posted!

brazil with bae. thank you team for making the P2 happen! more to come.

p.s i don't believe in soft launches. she let me hard launch after 8 races 🖐🏼

tagged: itsmey/n and mclaren

liked by mclaren, itsmey/n, charles_leclerc and 827,123,12 others.

oscarpiastri GAG

carlandooo MAMA Y PAPA

carlossainz55 finally mate! congrats :)

maxverstappen1 lando isn't a kid anymore

f1wags OFFICIALLY OUR FAV WAG (with lily obv)

itsmey/n i love you, baby! super proud <3

- landonorris i love YOU. so much. so much.

paddockclubb 8 RACES?? HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON OMG

the end ♡

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #carlos sainz x reader #f1 instagram au #fanfiction #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #formula one #instagram au #fanfic

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deadghosy · 4 months

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Ive just been reading your Lucifer big sister headcanons, and thier so so so so good, i love how you wrote it🥰. What about Lucifer with a little sister? Any thoughts? How different would he treat her? Maybe she fell at the same time as him and Lucifer blames himself for leading his sister down the same path as him. I can seen him being a protective older brother because come on their in hell surrounded by sinners its got to be stressful even tho she isnt weak what so ever but Lucifer can help but baby his sweet little sister.

(Obviously no pressure to write this)

Have a nice day 😁👋

As a younger sibling, I was gonna make this as I made the elder sister! So I’m glad you asked this as I can’t help but love to make this version. 🦆 sorry if it’s long, I just had fun making this🔥

YOUNGER SISTER! READER X PLATONIC HAZBIN HOTEL

Prompt: you are the younger sister of Lucifer Morningstar who fell along her older brother.

Dead ass you fell on top of Lucifer when you both fell from heaven.

“Groannsss….GET OFF!” Lucifer yells pushing you off him. You huffed getting off him as you dust yourself.

I headcannon reader to have a slight rebellious attitude sometimes like Adam but she’s not as terrible.

Like reader has a shirt that says “kiss my ass” with a kiss mark on the shirt as she puts up a rock gesture 🤟

Lucifer found your shirt and burned it, he can’t have his baby sister have such an inappropriate shirt!

“LU-LU! NOOO MY SHIRTTT” “THIS SHIRT IS NASTY LITTLE SIS!-”

He put his hand to your face to keep you away as he burned it. It was a funny sight as you huffed kicking him in his nuts as he groaned falling face first to the ground.

I also headcannon that reader is the reason why Charlie had a emo phase as reader kinda has a different aesthetic than Lucifer.

But on a serious note, Lucifer was kinda scared when you fell with him as he puts his hand through his hair watching you sleep. He couldn’t believe he brought his baby sister with him on his down fall. He knew he influenced you as you looked up to him more than the other angels. It was like if you were his child, his baby.

But he tucks you in bed as you were sprawled out in your bed snoring loudly. He chuckles kissing your head and leaving your room as he closes your door with a slight sad look.

Back to the funny sibling things, you are definitely the one who sneaks in the kitchen to take his leftovers for payback. After Lucifer walks out of his workshop tired and hungry.

You basically told him to take care of himself more. He walked in the kitchen to find his leftovers gone. So you could tell what happened next.

“Y/NNNNN!” You heard a fierce yell as you had shoved the food down your mouth and ran as you heard a loud flapping of wings behind you. “WHEN I CATCH YOU, YOU BETTER PRAY!”

It’s was so cartoony at how Lucifer chases you while you ran for you life. You have wings but he flys better than you so it’s no use.

He caught you, making you cook dinner for a month as you groan while he smirks patting a duck like a mafia man. “And you better wash the dishes too-” “NOW YOU ASKIN' TOOO MUCHHH!”

But soon the sinners came and made the freedom Lucifer gave them, turn into pure hell as you watch worried at the stress your older brother had. Lucifer tries to smile to show you it’s not affecting him, but it is.

He soon makes you stay all time in the palace, scared for your safety as you stay in your room worried at how isolated he soon becomes. Charlie would walk around babbling about you as she kept your company. You smile at your cute niece giving her boops to her nose.

I also headcannon you and Lucifer are like secret twins as you both hyper fixate about a lot of things like [favorite thing] as he hyper fixates on ducks and gives you his ducks to show off how cool he is as your older brother.

But also I can see reader being shorter than Lucifer, like to his shoulder as Lucifer blinks like a frog as you smile with an evil gremlin ready to stab someone.

But now for some overprotective brother headcannons.

You know how Lucifer when to see Charlie at her hotel, you joined wearing basically a female version of Lucifer’s outfit. But you wore shades to off your ✨coolness✨

Alastor was irritated at your louder personality but you also had a charming aura around you like how Lucifer has his prideful smile. Alastor smirks down at you as you are shorter than Lucifer, he kisses your hand with made you just stand there with a dotted blank expression.

Immediately Lucifer picks you up like a doll as he growls at Alastor like a dog ready to chump his hand off. He knew the radio demon just wanted to piss him off, so the whole time you were in the hotel with him. He always has you close and behind him from the radio demon.

Now if it was a sinner trying to court you, they better hope you don’t snitch like the young sibling you are. Cause ohhhh boy! Lucifer is teleporting to their house to give them nightmares. Maybe even killing them if they made you uncomfortable.

Heaven and hell agrees you are a cutie, demon or angel. Cause in heaven there were angels trying to court you but your brother was always behind you looking stern as he puff his chest trying to see if they suit you best.

Like literally he scares people off as you stand there minding your business.

“I feel a disturbance in the air…” Lucifer says as he was reading a book but pulls the curtains to see an angel trying to court you with their wings.

Immediately you’re being teleported to your room confused as a duck poofs in your hand.

“What the fuckkkk….” You say confused

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #fluff #hazbin hotel fluff #platonic Lucifer Morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #younger sister #young sibling activities #sister reader #young readers #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel x you

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love-bitesx · 11 months

Note

I loveeeedd the last story Tysm ❤️❤️❤️ Keep up the amazing work 🌈

I have another request

Hobie x fem spider reader

Reader has a weird stalker ex-bf, and the reader tries to keep it a secret from Hobie but he finds out and deals with the ex.

: ̗̀➛ STALKER. hobie brown x fem!reader

any criminal minds fans out there … i hope u see the parallels of my baby spencer also i'm so sorry, i didn't see until after i wrote this entire thing that you said 'fem spider reader' so it's a fem normal reader, so sorry! i hope it's still okay, tho!! thank u sm for ur support angel !! summary: hobie & y/n have been doing long distance for months, but she never told him exactly why. words: 2.8k (the words just kept coming, sorry its so long lmao) warnings: fem!reader, pronouns not really used but "my girl", "lady", etc. are, read at your own risk! weird stalker bf, creepy fella, hobie n y/n are long distance, very very soft hobie

“when can i call you next, darlin’?” hobie’s voice was laced with longing, bass distorted by static at the other end of the phone.

“if you’re quick, we can call tomorrow after 5,” you smiled, and if you were in an 80’s romcom, you’d be twisting the phone cord between your fingers.

“5pm it is, don’t be late,” you can hear his smirk, and a bolt of guilt strikes your chest.

“look, i need to ask something, and i think i already know the answer,” hobie speaks, and you bite your lip in anticipation, “the band and i are playing at a new venue tomorrow, it’s the biggest we’ve played, we’re all dead excited, and…”

a sigh.

“well, it won’t feel the same without you there, pretty.”

if the first bolt wasn’t enough, then the second one lived up to it, striking you into the dead center of your heart. it had been well over 6 months since you met hobie. well, “met”. you’d accidentally called the wrong number one day, meaning to contact a friend of a friend, but typing the last number wrong. picking up at the other end was a deep, almost mesmerising voice, telling you; “no bother, darlin’. it happens, just make sure not to lose this number, wanna hear more from ya.”

“hobie, you know i can’t,” your voice is brimming with remorse and you look to the ground.

“i know, shit with your parents, i get it," he tried hard to hide the disappointment, but his heart twanged with neglect and it creeped through into his words.

parents. strict, all-demanding 'parents'. that's what you told hobie when you first started dating, that the reason you aren't able to see him was because your mother was overbearing and extremely protective – it was a lie. a lie that was eating you up from the inside out. the truth was slightly more grim, however.

years ago, you got involved with a guy at work. a couple brief conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into anniversaries, anniversaries turned into toxic, violent arguments and after a long time of dating, you broke up with him. to say he took it badly, was a criminal understatement. threatening phone calls, showing up at your work, sending you gifts and menacing letters – his signature move was scaring off, and even once harming, any man or potential love interest that you interacted with. it was exhausting, and terrifying.

and hobie was different. he was sweet and kind, but rough around the edges, and his voice dripped in passion no matter the topic of conversation. his promises were never empty, and most importantly – he loved you. and you loved him. the last thing you wanted, was your ex to pop up and scare him off, so you kept it from him. limiting your relationship to phone calls at arranged times incase your ex was keeping tabs.

“i’m sorry, hobie,” is all you could muster, not even scratching the tip of the catastrophic iceberg that wedged the back of your throat.

“it’s okay, darlin’, don’t worry that pretty little head over it,” and just like every phone call, you melted into his words, “i love you, yeah? i’ll call you tomorrow at 5.”

“i’ll be waiting,” you smiled, cheeks flushed at his gentle affirmations, “i love you.”

with a ruckus of movement, and what sounded like a kiss, the call ended, and you stared at the screen silently for a moment. not much longer could you avoid it, and the malten bubble of dread spilled into your gut.

sending him a quick text:

‘good luck tomorrow, handsome. what’s the venue called again? you’ll do amazing x’

you turned off your phone, discarding it on the bed as you climbed into the hole of guilt you’d dug yourself.

“oi, you ready, blud?” hobie’s band mate yelled above the bustle and cheers from the crowd before them. large, bejewelled hands poised onto his guitar strings, he smirked.

“always.”

with a nod to the roadie, the lights went up, illuminating the stage and instruments, hobie's glowing with a harsh red tint. immediately, his sepia eyes digested the crowd. seeing the flushed, excitable faces staring back at him sent a shot of confidence to his bones, and they moved, strumming the guitar with such vigor that the stage floor shook beneath his feet. cheers erupted, and yet felt oddly empty. it was missing something, and he knew what it was immediately.

he'd truly give his all to have you there, front stage in his eyeline, screaming his songs like gospel. not that he'd ever seen you properly, only seeing teasing selfies you'd sent him over the months you'd been together. he didn't care, inherently, he'd fallen head over heels for your personality; a pretty face was only just a bonus.

however, he did yearn for your touch. to feel his hands in your hair, to kiss your cheek, your nose, your neck. he longed to have you with him, even just doing stupid little tasks, having you by his side through the domestic side of life.

his gall spurred him on, his passion surging through his fingertips, spilling out into the sound waves. the audience were lapping it up, screams and chants only barely audible under the booming power of their set. song, after song, after song his talented blood seeped out onto the strings, and his feet were almost numb from the vibration of the bass.

the final song arrived, and his chest was burning, vision blurry, heart pounding against his chest – and he loved it. it was their biggest crowd, their most excitable achievement so far, and his blood pumped with adrenaline as he finished off the set, falling to his knees as he strum his guitar with one final chord. lights falling, his chest was heaving and his eyes scanned the audience one final time – you weren’t there. he had to accept that.

“that was fuckin’ sick, blud!” his bassist yelled as they exited the stage, palm slapping hobie’s shoulder blade and elicited a wide, ecstatic grin.

“you smashed it, mate,” hobie shouted back over the booming stereo that took their place.

“nah, man, you stole the show,” his bassist shook his head, patting him again in appreciation, “good that your lady’s here to see it, too, she must be proud.”

“i wish, mate,” he sighed.

“did you not see her?” his ears perked up, and at his confused expression, his bandmate continued, “over at the back, by the bar, i didn’t know what she looked like, but she was asking after you. ‘er story adds up.”

"shit," he mutters, feet solid on the ground. his heart pounds, skeptical of your presence, but chest bursting with hope that it just might be you, "look, bro, i need to–"

"go! go, man, go see her," his bandmate pushes him in the direction of the bar, and he almost stumbles over his own feet to push the stage door open, met with the chaos of the crowded bar.

dark eyes scanning the aimless faces, he searched for anyone who could look like you; his stature brought him above everyone else, only by a little, but gave him an advantage to seek you out.

"sorry, i need to get past," he repeated, over and over to unassuming bodies, setting through the chaos to find his peace. pushing out at the back, a wave of light met him, shining through empty pint glasses and illuminating the bar.

there you were.

standing quietly, head nodding along to the blasting instrumentals, drink in hand; you were heart-stopping. and he was pretty sure his did. even if he’d never seen you face-to-face, he’d memorised the soft plump of your lips, alluring light in your eyes, even the way your hair fell against your skin from the photos he'd seen. there was no doubt it was you, and my god, you were beautiful. he couldn’t even stop his legs if he tried, as they carried him over to you.

"y/n?" his voice barely travelled through the sound waves, but it hit your ear like a familiar embrace.

turning to him, eyes wide and bright in the twinkling of the bar lights. you drunk him in, warm eyes swallowing every part of him. you'd seen pictures, again, but it could never compare to him. dark brown skin, soft to its complexion, hugged his bones in every perfect way; folding at the creases of his handsome face. he was tall, very tall, and the detail of the curves and indents of his muscles, altered by the shadows of the dim bar light, made your head fuzzy. god, he was beautiful – nothing that a digital screen could ever portray with justice.

"hobie," your voice was crisper than he was used to, and he would bottle it if he could, "hey, handsome, you got a–"

"come 'ere," he interrupted, essentially scooping you into his tense embrace, melting into your scent, the feel of you in his arms. his heart was pounding against his chest. you wrapped yourself around him, running your hands along his leather jacket, ghosting the skin below it.

"you interrupted my introduction," you pouted against his shoulder, "had a whole little joke planned and everything, you know."

"go on, hit me, love," he pulled back a tiny bit, his arms still glued around your waist, looking down through his lashes. you faltered under his intense gaze, giddy smile bursting onto your face and you buried your head in his chest.

"nuh uh, not anymore," you shook your head against him, "you ruined it."

his hand came up to touch your face whilst you spoke, following the edge of your hairline and tucking your hair around your shoulder. he was in awe, having you here, having you with him. tightening his embrace, he didn't want to let you go – ever.

"mhmm," his voice vibrated his chest, and you pulled away, "i'm sure it was hilarious, love."

"it really was," you chuckled, giddy in his presence.

the air grew thicker, your laughter dying out and left with just his strong gaze, his dark brown eyes following yours. you could barely comprehend him being here, in front of you, around you, and he was so much more than you had imagined. feeling his calloused hand caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch, inviting him into your world. cupping your face, hobie bought himself to you, leaning down until his pierced lips were ghosting your own. months he'd dreamed of this, imagined how it would feel to kiss his girl, to taste your lips and feel your love. he could feel your breath, and you were about to give in, until you pulled away.

"wait, i–" you swallowed thickly, pulling your touch from him.

"what's up, darlin'?" his eyes scanned your face for any sign of reason, "did i do somethin'?"

"no! no, you," you sighed, "you're perfect, it's not you."

he'd be lying through his teeth if he denied the pit of anxiety building deep in his stomach, bubbling up his throat.

"what is it?"

"i–" you stuttered again, and fought to get your words out of your brain and into the thick air of the bar, "i haven't been telling you the truth."

silence. just for a second. hobie's brain working over time.

"look, if you've got another fella, or somethin', just get it over with–"

"no! no, hobie, i'm yours, i promise," your words settled him for a second.

"my parents don't care about us, they aren't strict, in fact, they were happy when i told them about you," you begun, opening the dam.

"they know about me?" his voice was smaller than you were used to, and if your brain had a spare synapse to process it, you'd probably have melted.

"yes, and i'm sorry i haven't told you," you avoided his eyes, "it's my ex."

"oh, fuckin' 'ell," he sighed, dropping his arms to his side, and he's about to speak, until you interrupt.

"we broke up years ago, but he's never left me alone," you ring your wrists with your hands nervously, and hobie notices – you looked terrified, "i've tried everything; i've tried the police, i've moved countless times, i've changed jobs, made new friends, met new people – he won't leave me be."

tears welled up now, and his heart reached for you, but his arms stayed stuck by his side.

"every guy that i meet, he's, i don't know, calling them telling them i'm someone i'm not, or following them home and slashing tires, or roughing them up outside pubs," paranoia enveloped you, and your eyes darting around the crowd, "i was so scared, because you're the best i've ever had, and probably will ever have, and i don't want him to scare you off."

"y/n–"

"and i understand if this has done exactly what i'm scared of, because i get that keeping it from you was awful, but i was only trying to protect you and–"

his lips cut you off, warm against your own, capturing your words and pushing them back down your throat. hands on your cheeks, body flush against your own, you melted into him completely. it felt like heaven, like months of tension and longing unravelling like ribbon into the wind. it was safe, gentle, like a promise – a promise that it didn't scare him, and that he was yours.

"is he here?" his voice was low, lips hovering yours.

"i-i don't know," you were flustered, your brain trying to make sense of it all, but his hand on the small of your back stopped any cognitive thoughts, "i haven't seen him."

watching him, hobie's dark eyes floated around the crowd, before falling back onto you. smirk on his lips, he placed a quick peck onto your cheek.

"hmm, i hope he enjoyed the show," he chuckled lowly, and you couldn't help but mimic it, relief flooding off your shoulders, "how about we go somewhere a bit safer?"

"like where?" you questioned, intrigued by the coaxing tone of his voice.

"well, i only live around the corner," he shrugged, before offering his hand. blushing, you slipped your hand into his, the soft skin of his fingers pulling you towards him, until he threw his arm around your shoulder.

"nothing could scare me off, you know," he whispered, placing a kiss to your hair, "i'm 'ard as nails."

"oh yeah?" you giggled.

"mhmm."

clothed eyes glued to the suspicious figure, hobie stood on a rooftop, footsteps silent as he follows the man below. tailing him through the cobbled back lanes of london, hobie's back tingled with apprehension – he'd been following him for at least a mile, waiting for a perfect opportunity.

and he'd finally found it.

pausing his heavy stroll, the man dug into his pockets and pulled out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes, fumbling further for a lighter. a small orange glow lit up the air around him as he puffed away, smoke fluttering to meet hobie's nose.

silently, hobie swung to a platform below, pulling his guitar tighter against his back and dropped to the hard ground. the sound of his leather boots colliding with the cobble made the man turn in his direction, eyes wide at the sight.

"spiderman?" the man breathed between puffs, voice hoarse, "can i help you?"

"you know what, i think you can," hobie strutted, hands stuffed into his leather jacket, lanky stance towering him, "are you y/n's ex fella?"

"who's asking?" he questioned stupidly, and hobie let out a laugh.

"bruv, who's– are you stupid or somethin'?" hobie punched him lightly in the shoulder, "do you not see the whole get up?"

"the fuck have you got to do with y/n?" he spat, defensive stance taking over his body.

"none of your business," hobie knew that would sting, "but you're gonna leave her alone, fella."

"you don't know what you're talking about."

"i'm not askin', mate," hobie stepped closer, "and i'm not givin' you a choice."

before he could even utter a response, hobie had swung his spike-studded arm in his direction, knuckles colliding against the pathetic man's jaw, knocking him to the ground below.

"tha's my girl you're messin' with now."

#hobie brown #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie #hobie my beloved #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie x you #across the spider verse spoilers

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gamermattsgf · 4 months

Text

Silk ribbons // sub Chris

Warnings: major sub Chris / mommy kink / blindfold kink / restraints kink / overstimulation / praise kink / cum kink (I literally have no idea what to call this lol, you’ll get what I mean tho… hopefully) / degradation / slut shaming / male masterbation / hand job / female masterbation (if u squint)

Summary: chris invites you around to bake brownies, but after a slight mishap with your underwear he finds it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything but the sight of them.

Author’s notes: this oneshot is literally the physical embodiment of training wheels by Melanie Martinez ugh, it matches the vibe perfectly. You guys wanted sub Chris so I delivered, enjoy yourselves thirsty hoes ;)

“I love everything you do, when you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do… I wanna ride my bike with you, fully undressed, no training wheels left for you…” - Training Wheels, Melanie Martinez

Chris thinks he’s a little strange.

Ever since he’s been young he’s loved all things to do with the colour baby pink, and he’s always led a life of soft aesthetics, pearls and strawberry shortcake daydreams. He’s grown up looking around at other people and thinking there has been something wrong with him because there’s no way a man should have been this obsessed over all things soft and delicate.

But he couldn’t help it.

He just couldn’t resist the gentle look of soft pink bows, used for both accessories and decor, and he really loved his mom’s antique pink china tea set, so much so that whenever she offered to make him tea he’d always shyly request it to be poured into one of those cups. He just liked the look of them, that’s all.

He also loved his mom very much, he was for sure a momma’s boy, but unfortunately her affections and coddles rubbed off on him a little too well, which left him as a touch starved 20 year old… absolutely terrified of being asked to top.

Truthfully, he really had no idea what he was doing in the bedroom, he didn’t like the control or the freedom to do whatever he wanted.

Within his sexual fantasies he’d much rather have been the subservient one to whoever was willing to entertain his strange desires.

Because he wanted to be babied, he wanted to be degraded, he wanted hair strokes and wrist ties.

He had met you at his local skatepark whilst sitting on the edge of a ramp.

Biting his lip, he had been peeling off the paper from the sticky side of a hello kitty bandaid that he had needed to use to cover up a graze. His nostrils had flared and he had hissed at the rawness of it on his skint kneecap. He knew he should have worn his jeans that day, not his jorts.

Whilst securing it onto his cut, the skateboard that he had been sat on top of creaked gently underneath his weight. Suddenly, the wheels to another skateboard had filled his ears whilst he focused in on the calming pink colour of the bandaid, admiring the soft little white cat print. The gritting sound of them on the concrete had forced him to look up to you, who had now stepped off of your own skateboard and kicked it up into your hand.

You had smiled down at Chris cheekily, curious but shy in front of him. Fondly laughing, you had pointed to the hello kitty plaster on his knee that had covered up his cut as he sat before you on the floor. ‘Nice bandaid.’ Chris had swallowed nervously, thinking that this stranger was about to tease him about the girly looking bandaid… but - to his bewilderment - you had sat down next to him instead, your perfume a waft of sweet roses that again, readily attracted Chris because of his acute love for all things light.

‘Got a spare for me?’

And after that day you two had just clicked.

You’re not really sure if you were friends or something more, but Chris undeniably felt attracted to you, partly because when he had muscled up the right amount of nerves to invite you around to his place, you had excitedly freaked out over his coquettish room, marvelling at its cuteness and flopping onto his bed to grab his monkey stuffed animal and cuddle it into your chest.

Chris had been so fucking terrified that you would have been weirded out by his taste in room decor, but on the contrary- you had found it extremely interesting, that someone as masculinely set and attractive as Chris had such a unique aesthetic.

You had never really met anyone like Chris, and that excited you. His room was queer, a perfect mix of both boyish and girlish things. His skateboard was always leant up against the door to his closet and random pictures of rappers haphazardly dotted themselves about his walls. Additionally, a desk with a pc sitting on top of it took up the left hand corner of his room whilst his blue and white headset constantly rested on top of his Xbox.

Oddly, you hadn’t expected his bedcovers to be a pearly silk pink when you had first entered the threshold, nor expected the white fluffy throw blanket draped lazily over the side of it, but you hadn’t complained. You had loved it.

Looking back, it didn’t surprise you much. He did wear an awful lot of pink. A deep pink puffer jacket, pink t-shirts, a pink button down for formal occasions and he had even doodled pink swirls onto his white Nikes with acrylic leather pens. He usually skated in them, and one day when you asked him where he had gotten them from he had told you did them himself. This only made him ten times cooler in your eyes.

On this occasion, you were around at his place to hang out downstairs. Chris had suggested baking brownies and you had been quick to agree with him, finding a recipe online and opening different cupboard doors to select ingredients.

For some reason however, sexual tensions between you two had been high. You felt it hit you extra hard whenever your sides brushed or whenever Chris flicked his powdery blue eyes to meet yours, before he shyly averted them and cleared his throat. Multiple times you had looked down to his arms to see that the soft hairs of them were raised to attention, and whenever Chris’ palms touched against yours to help you stir the mixture you felt them to be clammy with sweat. It was only when you bent down to grab another mixing bowl that you realised something was truly up, because Chris had gone silent.

Why you ask? As you had bent down, your soft white sweats had slipped from above the handles of your hips to reveal the tight waistband of your lacy underwear pinching against your skin perfectly. Chris’ throat had gone dry. Fuck, he had felt like such a pervert looking at the soft cherries of your ass cheeks that were covered over with your sweats, but he couldn’t help the way the butterflies shooting through his gut quickly traveled past his own underwear and right to his cock.

You were wearing lacy pink underwear.

Chris was a naturally anxious and nervous person that liked to overthink. Immediately his mind drew itself to a bunch of different conclusions over something probably meaningless. Were you wearing that set because you knew that you were going to be around at his and that the colour pink reminded you of him? Or was it just a coincidence that you chose to wear literally the most tantalising pair of underwear that you could have in his presence.

He wasn’t sure, but his mind overwhelmed himself with these thoughts whilst his eyes greedily drank in the eyeful you had given him. Reacting quickly, he thought it necessary to speedily dart behind the other side of the counter before you could turn around and see how embarrassingly hard his cock had gotten. He felt wet, his tip hot and soaking as he quickly plummeted into humiliation at his lack of self control. He pressed his hips into the counter, flustered with a stupidly obviously blush dusting lightly over his cheeks whilst he held his breath, trying to conceal any noise he might have been tempted to make at the rub of the hard-wooded counter against his flushed cock.

You had turned back around, completely oblivious to what had happened and unconsciously pulling your sweatpants back up by nature.

After quickly edging his way to the exit of the kitchen and rushing an ‘I’ll be right back’ shakily, he stumbled his way up the stairs, practically cupping his length so that you couldn’t see it before sprinting into his room and closing the door behind him.

Chris has never felt more embarrassed in his life. You are still downstairs and he still has a raging boner.

Panicking, he doesn’t feel like he can get rid of it by willing it to go down with just images in his mind, so he worriedly comes to the conclusion that he’s going to have to touch himself.

His heart races, and his cheeks flush a humiliated red, getting even hotter the more he meekly pads over to the side of his dresser with his cock throbbing and his balls tight. He frowns when all his mind can do to help is cast 3D printed images of your ass snuggled into the pair of underwear you were wearing right in front of his field of vision, evidently making his stiffy now much worse.

He slaps his clammy hand to his forehead, his fingertips lightly brushing over the yellow bandana that he has on to pull back his hair. His shoulders heave as he squeezes his eyes shut in disbelief.

As he reaches out his other hand to his top dresser drawer, he swallows when noticing it’s shaking with nerves. He can’t believe he’s going to have to do this whilst the girl he normally thinks about when he strokes himself is actually downstairs in his house.

The thought makes Chris want to throw himself out of the window, because he’s generally embarrassed wanking off with his family in the house, no less with the girl that he likes as more than a friend residing just downstairs in his kitchen. But there’s no other way to get rid of it, and wouldn’t it be more embarrassing for him to be parading around you with his cock proudly on show than for him to quietly sate his horny hunger in the comfort of his own room?

Sliding the drawer out, his jittering hand goes straight for the tube of lotion, knowing that he’s going to have to make this as quiet as possible so that you don’t get suspicious as to where he’s actually gone.

Rapidly sliding off his sweatpants, he takes a shaky breath at the feeling of the fabric rubbing against his sensitivity before the soft material drops down to his ankles and he has to step out of them.

Kneeling onto his bed, it squeaks quietly underneath his weight and Chris has to cringe in both guilt and arousal.

Inconspicuously worming his bottom half under the silky pink covers, he tunes in his ears to make sure that the house upstairs is silent and that there can be no creaks of floorboards heard before blinking and flipping open the cap of the lotion.

He squirts a heavy amount of the sticky clear liquid onto the palm of his sweating hand before gulping and arching up his hips so that his spare hand can thumb itself into the band of his white boxers. Pulling them down he pants a little and shamefully looks at his twitching cock, his tip a bright red and his skin a needy pink whilst the thick vein on the left side of his shaft bulges outwardly.

Before he begins, a surge of sexual excitement hits his nervous system and has adrenaline pulsing through his blood. He decides to grip onto the hem of his shirt at the last minute so that he can tuck it into his mouth and bite down on it as a last ditch effort to suppress any noises he knows that he’s going to make.

Another thing Chris is embarrassed about is how loud he gets, and this statement still rings true as the already cherry red flush on his face seems to thicken even more after he looks down at his cock to observe the way his hand spreads the lotion along the hot thickness of his girth.

At the first touch, his back arches slightly, and he has to take in a laboured breath at the feeling of his cock, rock hard in his grip and begging to be stroked by his hand.

‘Ugh fuck…’ he moans breathlessly into the bite of his t-shirt, humiliation swarming him in waves as he starts to jerk his hand up and down. It was like torture, being forced to listen to the sticky slickness of the lotion moving upon his throbbing skin as he whimpered and spread his legs slightly with the current of pleasure that came with it.

‘Fuck… fuck… f-fuck…’ he stutters quickly through more pants, his fist tightening perfectly as he feels the slimy texture of his guilty filth run over his hand. His back rests against the headboard of his bed but it doesn’t stay there for long intervals at a time because of how much it arches.

He sweats, and breathlessly feels like he doesn’t know what to do with himself the more he stimulates his cock. His other hand grapples and fidgets, first clutching onto his thigh, but then moving restlessly around to grope his pearly pink pillow, only to then move once again up to his headboard. His arm extends across the expanse of it whilst his fingers knuckle the wood.

Chris’ head tilts and hits the wall with his eyebrows furrowed when his thumb comes up to quickly swirl over his tip before he whimpers into the air and allows his t-shirt to drop down out of his mouth and crumple back into its original resting place. He simply cannot hold it within the bite of his lip anymore because all his mouth does is lay slackened and open.

He then allows himself to tune out the rest of the world, only focussing in on his pleasure until playing with his slit becomes too sensitive.

Looking down once again in fascination at his hand working against his cock, the erotic noise of the lotion lubricating his skin makes him mumble a quiet ‘Jesus Christ…’ before he’s shutting his eyes again.

This time however, when he shuts his eyes an almost incriminatingly foul image crosses his mind, and he wants to slap himself for thinking such a dirty thing about such a sweet girl.

But suddenly, he sees visions of an elegant you, lying down sprawled across the other side of his bed. An elegant you that seems to be wearing a matching two piece set in baby pink…

The bra is see-through, allowing Chris to fantasise about what your nipples may look like whilst your tits lay perfectly nestled in between the sheer silky material with bows and pearls decorating the pale pink lace, he also seems to imagine it being one of those pretty bras where the fabric is detachable from the wires so that Chris can easily suck on your tits, drooling all over them like a lovesick puppy.

The panties are indeed too, lacy and decorated with a little bow on the top, however, scandalously attached to the sweetheart underwear are sensual-looking garters, that pull up knee high white socks with tiny pink love hearts stitched into them, the frills at the top also being a matching baby pink.

Chris moans again at the image and pants into the air at the thought he fantasises just for himself. His absolute dream underwear set on you.

But that’s not all. Because along with the temptress-esque underwear he has you wearing, your knees are also propped up with your legs spread out, one hand perched lazily on the covers. You lie there, with a somewhat helpless look on your face, whilst your other hand slips down your bare navel to in between your spread legs so that you can delicately play with yourself.

The noises Chris imagines you let out are soft, and you almost purr desperately, looking at him with lustrously hooded eyes and your hair fanning out around you like an angel.

‘Aren’t you going to play with me Chris…?’ His imagination pouts gently to him in the warped voice of you, your finger circulating where Chris wants to touch the most before you hiss quietly in pleasure.

‘I want you to touch me… please… be my good boy, I’m aching for your cock…’ you whine again, panting quietly whilst Chris moans once more, whimpering this time a pathetic ‘mommy…’ that more so comes out like a babbling baby’s whisper, before he dares to look down at the image he’s conjured up in his mind once more to help himself get off.

‘I’m dripping Chris… please… I need you angel boy… I- I- I wish you could just stuff me full of your cock. I’ll always be your sweet girl, I promise! Haven’t I been a good mommy? Do I not deserve it?’ You coquettishly pout once again, your big beautiful glassy eyes almost welling up with tears as you perfectly demonstrates the balance between sadness and sexual desire. You look like his strawberry shortcake daydream… and Chris so badly wants to sink his teeth into your flesh.

This almost pushes him over the edge, his legs spreading the furthest they can go to make sure that his hand can get the best access to his cock whilst the covers that he once had concealing his embarrassed sensitivity now rolling down his legs.

The bed squeaks as he fucks his hips upwards gently into his hand. The more he gets carried away within his groans of struggle and hitched breathes of a long awaited high, the more agressive he gets with his grip.

All of his incoherent speeches are drowned out by the squeaking groan of his bed and the sticky stroke of his cock. Now, the red blush from his cheeks has spread to pretty much his whole entire face, his sinful act also feeling so so fucking addictive. And he feels like he’s swimming in ecstasy, mumbling your name in pleasure, over and over again. That is… until there is a gentle, almost timid knock at his door, the cupped fist most likely belonging to the only other person in the house at the moment. You…

…oh fuck.

‘Chris what are you-’

You suddenly burst into his room, completely unannounced after your knock, because you had heard the guttural stutter of your name…

And there Chris sits, like a deer caught in headlights, frozen with his lower half naked and his boxers clinging to the skin of his thighs. You clock the discarded bottle of lotion on the left side of his bed covers and then gawk at his glistening cock, wrapped up within his right fist.

‘Oh- fuck, sorry!’ You yelp suddenly, yourself unable to look away and Chris too stunned with embarrassment to rush and cover himself up. There would be no point now anyway, it was so fucking blatantly obvious what he was doing.

‘N-no please it’s my fault. I- I just didn’t want you to see. Thought I could get rid of it quietly’ Chris stutters back at you, now finally gaining the common sense to cover himself up by draping his duvet over his nakedness so that he could regain some of his decency back. But his decency quickly crumbles once again when you let out a huge breath. You relax, your eyes blinking as you cock your hip to the side. ‘Why’d you stop…?’.

Chris swallows nervously and his jaw goes slack at your question, he furrows his brows, slightly confused, ‘why’d I- why’d I stop?’. His voice sounds hoarse and he has to clear his throat ever so slightly in awkwardness.

‘Yeah… doesn’t really bother me to be honest’.

His hands are shaking underneath the plushness of his silky covers.

‘Umm… well I just thought you’d be a little weirded out by it that’s all… s’that not normal?’ He chokes out, feeling it very queer to be having a conversation with you like this, still hyper aware that his cock is painfully hard and that you can probably still see it poking up from under his bedsheets. He squirms around at this thought, his cheeks red and emanating heat.

You just shrug. ‘I mean… for some people probably, but not me’ you smirk ‘what were you thinking about?’. As if Chris isn’t embarrassed enough already, this question makes everything so much worse. ‘Umm… well I- uh’ he bumbles stupidly, struggling to find the words, which just makes you even more smug. You’re not stupid, you had heard him mumble your name from the other side of the door before you had burst it open.

‘C’mon Chris be a big boy now and spit it out’ you chided him, walking towards him a little. In response to this he shuffles further back up his bed, trying to get away from the overwhelming burden of having to admit that it was you he was thinking about.

‘Umm… just- stuff’ he jitters, and you roll your eyes. ‘Don’t bullshit my Chris, you and I both know that it was me… believe it or not you weren’t dealing with it as “quietly” as you thought you were’. Chris knows there’s no way to possibly skirt around this, so his chest deflates and he sighs. Fucking curse him for being too noisy. His eyes shyly look to his bedcovers, refusing meet yours. ‘Fine… it was you. Sorry… I just couldn’t help it’. His hand not covered in a thin layer of lotion comes up to his eyes and pinches them shut.

‘Don’t be sorry. I’m flattered to be on your mind. Because you sound so pretty getting off to the thought of me…’ you smirk when Chris snaps his eyes open, his misty blue irises flicking about your face to scan for any hint of a lie. But there’s none there to detect because you are being genuine with him.

Chris is a very interesting person, so you feel like he’s the kind of guy to have interesting kinks… I mean… look at him, so feminine yet so fucking masculine at the same time. He’s the kind of person that anyone would be lucky to taste before they die.

‘Yeah? You think about me with your hand down your pants often Chris?’ You taunt him, your heady smirk working him up into a flustered state of stuttering. ‘No! Well- I- yes… but it’s not like-’.

He vigorously tries to defend himself but he only makes a mess of his speech pattern, so you do him a favour by hushing him softly. You’re now towering over him, his big eyes trained on you and his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. ‘What do you like Chris?’ You ask, leaving the question opened ended. This could have been about anything, but of course, you only have one goal in mind. You want to know what gets him going, gets him hard, gets his back arching and his legs spreading…

‘What do you mean…?’ Chris decides to play dumb, his shyness seeping through every pore in his body. ‘Chris you know what I mean. What keeps you up at night… what do I do in your imagination that makes you want to touch yourself until you’re making a mess all over yourself hm?’ Your voice is light and gentle whilst you bravely reach your hand out to cup underneath his jaw. You lift his chin gently, the weight of his head softly resting on your hand as he swallows again.

‘I like…’ he mumbles breathlessly, struggling to get the rest of the words out before you are peeling back his sweetie pie pink covers to expose him. You look down to see his thighs twitching slightly at being revealed to you once again. ‘Oh Chris that looks sore baby…’ you coo, and his hips squirm. ‘Keep going’ you respond to him, wanting him to finish answering your question. But this time, you reach out your hand to grasp onto his cock, his texture warm and damp.

Chris bites his lip and feathers his eyes closed, his head tipping back and a boiling hot surge of pleasure scalding his gut as soon as you start to work your hand against his slick skin. ‘Um… look- look in my bedside drawer…’ he moans, his voice struggling to crawl up his throat without a whine tinging to every single word. You furrow your eyebrows, keeping your hand on Chris as you lean over to use your other one, which wraps around the handle of his drawer slowly.

Sliding it out, you look inside to see all of the typical things kept in a man’s nightstand, as well as some girlier things like a bundle of different pearl necklaces, but you’re not interested in that.

You’re more interested in the pink silk ribbons, that are long enough to wrap tightly around someone’s wrists and restrain them there.

‘Chris… are these for…’ you trail off, subconsciously squeezing his cock a little harder as your eyes sparkle at the cheeky silk ties. Chris nods, filling in the gaps for you and answering your suspicions with an ‘uhuh’.

Your hand dives in without a moment to lose, fishing out the exiting looking toys that you can play with. ‘Chris you little slut’ you giggle with a surprised air about you, admiring the way he looks at the ribbons as you place them on his bed.

‘Hey! M’not a slut!!’ He snaps his head back up to look at you, whining in offence, but you shake your head, finding that so fucking hard to believe.

‘Is that so… well, in that case I’ll just have to make you into one using them then’ you slur seductively, before slinging your leg over his naked lap. Chris nearly chokes at your fast actions whilst you fully straddle him and push his back into the headboard. Wrestling one of his wrists up to the holed wood Chris pants and slides his bottom half further down onto the bed so that he can lie on his torso whilst you tie his hand to the headboard. Chris doesn’t put up a fight… he wants this.

He’s wanted it for so long.

The second one doesn’t come long after.

He hisses suddenly at how tightly you had tied them, his wrists practically unable to move in their awkward position slung up over his head and pinned to the headboard. The pretty pink silk brushing against his skin delicately makes him ache, and he admires your work.

‘Where’d you learn how to do that?’ He utters in breathless wonder whilst you find it hard not to smirk at what you’re going to do next. ‘Practice’ you muse whilst Chris shuffles about, unable to get comfortable. Your hands then shoot out and come to rest on the yellow bandana neatly pushing back his long wavy hair.

‘W-wait, what are you doing?’ he stutters as you use them to gently slide the fabric down over his eyes. This conceals his line of vision, and you watch the way his fingers and arms flex helplessly, his mind immediately trying to move his hands to push the bandana back up onto his forehead. But it’s no use, and he moans in frustration when he realises that there’s no way he’s going to be able to slip the bandana back up because his wrists are restrained.

‘Fuck… t-that’s not fair!’ He cries out in defiance but all you do is snigger, getting off of the bed so that you can admire the way his long legs stretch out to the bottom of his bed and kick about restlessly, his cock still red and throbbing whilst his colourful t-shirt rides up just above the curves of his slutty little waist. Strands of his soft looking hair fall over the yellow bandana that rests on the delicate curve of his nose whilst he twists his neck from side to side, his wrists bending and yanking helplessly against his silk ties.

‘Oh really? If you’re going to be a naughty boy and touch yourself like that without my permission then you’re going to be treated like a naughty boy’

Chris’ cheeks flame at how much he enjoys this degradation, his prick now painful and needing to be touched once again.

‘You got anymore requests before I give you what you want baby boy?’ You quip, extremely excited and getting wet at the fact that Chris has absolutely no idea what you’re going to do to him because of the blindfold obscuring his vision.

Chris hums, debating on whether or not to reveal to you his deepest and most yearned for sexual fantasy.

You don’t skate around his debate though, ‘Chris just say it, I think we’re a little too far into our friendship now to judge each other’. He sighs at this and stops biting his lip in contemplation.

‘Can I- can I call you mommy? Please’ he shyly requests and your stomach squeezes at the idea of being called mommy. You’re not surprised that Chris has a mommy kink, it’s pretty obvious with the way he carries himself, his actions are always so soft and delicate.

‘You can call me whatever you like Chris’ you say, before crawling back onto the bed. Chris’ back arches at the freedom you give him and his head twists from side to side yet again, trying to look in vain to see if there is anyway he can possibly clock where you are. But it’s no use. His makeshift blindfold has completely obliterated his sense of sight, equally, his sense of touch is also limited which heightens his other senses tenfold.

Running your finger tips up the inner sides of his thighs, he shivers with his breathing hitched and his shoulders heaving. He looks so sweet practically defenceless before you.

‘Go on then Chris… call me mommy… beg for it’. Chris whines into the back of his throat when he feels the pad of your thumb slowly sliding over his weeping tip. ‘Please mommy- call me a slut, I don’t care… just- just touch me’ he breathes, a surge of power flowing through your veins at the way you can make him unravel at the sound of your voice. Even the faintest of touches to his cock makes him worm about pathetically.

‘There’s a good boy’.

Finally, you find it right to praise him, and by god does it illicit the desired reaction. Chris’ lips curve up into a proud little smile, his legs spreading and his head throwing all the way back to put his powerful jaw on show, his masculine neck heavily contoured and highlighting his strong throat structure within the dim lighting of his room. ‘I am a good boy mommy’ he meekly responds back whilst your hand rewards him further by wrapping itself around him yet again.

He feels nice in your palm, warm and thick, precum dribbling down his tip and mixing with the lotion that is still making him sticky enough to easily slide your hand over him. And doesn’t he just look like the sweetest darling, all messy and panting beneath you?.

‘You like the way I touch you? Is this the kind of thing you dream about baby?’ You muse as you work your hand along him to stimulate his prick. You know he’s not going to last long, he had edged himself enough already before you had interrupted him. And you know that he is most likely going to have the most earth-shattering orgasm at your touch.

He nods shakily, his hips thrusting up accidentally to get more friction. ‘All the time’ he states, this time a little more confidently, and you hum in satisfaction.

‘You look pretty in pink baby boy’ you suddenly compliment him, and this makes Chris the happiest he’s been yet. He gets flustered and shy, especially after you stroke his ego with telling him he looks nice is his favourite colour. Something about someone complimenting him in that way makes him feel soft and light. ‘Thank you mommy…s’my favourite’ he shyly peeps, his voice as smooth as butter and making your thighs quiver. You’ll definitely be around at his place a lot more often after this to get even more of his strawberry goodness.

‘I know sweet boy… and that’s why you look so pretty in it’ you praise him even more, and he moans uncontrollably, his cock twitching within your hand. ‘Fuck, is my good boy ready to cum already?’.

He hums vigorously. ‘Y-yes mommy… so bad’. You sigh, feeling sad that this moment is over so soon, because he just looks so pretty tied up and blindfolded below you, but you conclude that he’s suffered enough already with having to hold on for this long, and so you let him cum.

‘Okay then sweet boy, you cum when you’re ready’.

And cum he does, a fuck load. It melts and drips all over his stomach, and Chris curses into the air after every time your hand works down his length with a squeezing motion to get rid of as much cum as you can. After the sticky strings of them are spent and Chris whines in overstimulation, you let go of his cock.

Chris thinks it’s over, and he cools down with his chest heaving and his mouth panting, that is, until you unexpectedly place your hands on his stomach, right into his puddle of cum.

Chris chokes when your hands start to make a slow ascent up his stomach, past his happy trail and up to his chest, absolutely covering him in his own cum. He moans at this, feeling your sticky fingers trailing over his rib cage. You smirk at him.

‘Thought you weren’t a slut Chris…? Good boys don’t like this kind of thing’.

His tilted head snaps back up, cutting his enjoyment short with a pout and a pitiful ‘but I am a good boy-’, his blindfold still completely concealing the way his eyes are probably glassing up with worry. ‘Really? Because I don’t think so…’ you tease once again, knowing that it’s just going to get him even more worked up. Gathering up a dollop of his cum onto two of your fingers you sneakily gravitated them up to his mouth whilst he fusses about underneath you.

To shut him up, you use your spare hand to open up his mouth fully and slot your two fingers onto his tongue. ‘Shhh, suck on this baby, you just focus on how you taste and I’ll worry about everything else, that’s what mommy’s are for yeah?’.

This quiet babying seems to work to get Chris to calm down, and his needy figure relaxes whilst curling his tongue around your two fingers and licking off his own cum. He swallows it all in one go. Removing your hand from his mouth, finally, you let him see once again by pulling off the yellow bandana, leaving his hair in a ruffled, fluffy mess.

His lips are blood red and his cheeks are a light pink, his silk ties matching his sheepish complexion whilst he watches you unravel them. After they’re removed, you look to see the red marks they’ve left on Chris’ wrists from how tightly they had been tied and equally how hard Chris had been tugging against them within his pleasure filled trance.

Suddenly you begin to giggle. And you can’t stop. A tired looking Chris gazes over at you in confusion, his stomach and chest shining with a trail of his own cum.

‘What?’

He shuffles around insecurely, his shyness once again blocking up any other emotion.

‘Nothing… it’s just… I kinda always knew you had a mommy kink after you mumbled it in your sleep one time I was staying over. Think you were having a wet dream’.

Chris goes red once again, his eyes widening as he smacks his lips, grabbing his fluffy white pillow and affectionately hitting your head with it at not telling him sooner that you had actually heard something you shouldn’t have.

This of course, initiates a playful pillow fight between the two of you, which slowly transitions into somewhat of a messy make out session with your tongues twisting against each other’s and your noses brushing before you both collectively hear the sound of the smoke alarm going off in the kitchen.

You gasp and pull away from Chris’ sugary lips.

‘FUCK, THE BROWNIES!’

Author’s notes p.2: phew that was a lot. Can u guys tell I love the colour pink?? I’m lowkey obsessed with coquette baby girl Chris ngl, he’s literally the male embodiment of a Melanie Martinez song. I hope u guys enjoyed my take on sub!Chris, but request and ask me anything as always!! :) @luverboychris this one is for you wife, I know you’ve been waiting for it <3

Taglist: @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @luverboychris @luv4kozume @strniohoeee @sturniolosreads @thesturniolos @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @ellie-luvsfics @matthemunch @mattsleftnipple03 @robins-scoop @asturniolos @imwetforyourmom @sturnioloenthusiast @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @rootbeerworshiper @strawberrysturniolo @chr1sgirl4life @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @isabellehoran @carolsturns1 @1800chokedathoe @lovergirl4387 @sophie21153-blog

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sub matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #mommy k!nk #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

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querenciasturniolo · 5 months

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chris or matt x fem!reader please !!! i legitimately cannot choose between them for my life so you can choose :) maybe reader’s also like an influencer and they have this secret sort of relationship for a while and its all super fluffy, but fans are already starting to speculate that they’re together and stuff, and then at the end they finally go public with a hard launch and/or live and everyone in the comments ( or chat if it’s a live ) is going FERAL

p.s. also i’ve loved your works for so long you DO NOT UNDERSTAND and i’ve finally gathered up the courage to send in a message even tho it’s sent in with a request !

hard launch ⮕ m.s.

word count: 911

warnings: swearing

summary: request

a/n: STOP YOU’RE SO SWEET 😭 please don’t be scared of me, i promise i don’t bite HAHAHA, ily are you kidding me 🫶🏻😭 also this was so fucking cute, i’m obsessed fr

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

Watching Matt stream always had your heart stuttering in your chest.

The theme for Hogwarts Legacy was playing as he was adjusting his camera, your eyes watching him closely and trying to fight the smile stretching across your face. You were sure the viewers could see you staring, considering you were sitting in the chair directly next to him, on camera. His eyes dropped from the screen as he grabbed his controller.

“Alright guys, so, we’re playing Hogwarts Legacy tonight, but I have a special guest with me, as you all can see.” He turned his head and met your eyes, his own smile growing and his cheeks tingeing pink as he caught you already staring. Introduce yourself, he mouthed. You turned to face the camera, grinning wider than before as your eyes scanned over the chat.

“Hey guys, I’m the guest, obviously. My name is Y/n.” You said.

did anyone else see the way she was staring at matt ? they’re in love, confirmed

she’s so real, i’d be staring too

i can’t even handle this, she’s so cute

“Basically, Y/n’s going to play while I tell her what to do. She’s never held a controller in her life.” Matt teased, his eyes flickering between the screen and the chat as you pressed the button to start the game.

“Wait, I have to create a whole character?” You asked, glancing over at Matt as he placed the headset over your ears. He chuckled and nodded.

“Yes, you have to create a whole character, is that not what you were expecting when you begged me to play this game?” He teased. You rolled your eyes and adjusted the headset, making sure the ear that was on his side was exposed so you could hear him.

“This is ridiculous, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me I had to create an entire chara—oh my God I can have pink hair, I take it back.” You rambled, scrambling through the hair colors. Matt’s laugh next to you had you grinning as your eyes flickered between the screen and the chat.

this banter is only proving my point that they’re in love

i’m so glad she’s streaming with him this is so funny

has anyone else noticed that matt hasn’t looked at the screen once

You glanced over at Matt, meeting his eyes immediately. You couldn’t help but mirror his smile as you shook your head and faced the screen again. You created your character, groaning when you realized you had to go through a thousand cut scenes, even though you were thrilled to be playing this game.

“I never understood why you can’t see those weird horse things until that dude gets eaten by the dragon.” Matt said, catching your attention enough for you to glance at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. You sighed through your nose and shook your head.

“I forgot, you’re a fake fan.” You said, interrupting him before he could fire back. “They’re thestrals, you can only see them if you’ve witnessed death, but they’re always there.” You explained, Matt furrowing his eyebrows as you faced the screen again.

y/n being a harry potter fan was not on my docket, but i’m not complaining

her humbling matt has got to be the funniest fucking thing i’ve ever seen in my life

i love this

The entire time you were going through the beginning quests, you and Matt had bickered back and forth, your smile wide with each comeback you shot at him. It wasn’t until a knock on Matt’s door that the two of you stopped talking. You paused the game, but Matt scoffed and unpaused it.

“You keep playing.” He demanded playfully, your own scoff leaving your lips as you shook your head and continued. Chris peeked his head into the door.

“Food’s here, just thought you guys should know.” He said, Matt nodding his head. Chris left the room, and Matt turned to you.

“I’ll go get it.” He said, standing from the chair as you turned to face him. Before you could process it, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours firmly and turned to leave the room. You smiled and shook your head before facing the screen and realizing what just happened.

oh mY GOD I FUCKING KNEW IT

DID ANYONE ELSE SEE THAT ??????

WHAT IS GOING ON MATT JUST KISSED HER ON FUCKING STREAM

You ignored the chat, trying to play it off and completely move past what happened, thinking that Matt did it on instinct. Chats were flying in at such a rapid pace that it felt as though everything on the screen was lagging. It was completely screwing up how you were playing, not only your racing heart and shaking hands on the controller.

You completely short circuited, having no idea what to do as Matt walked back into his room. He was laughing at something Chris had said as he sat down next to you and glanced over at the chat.

“Oh.”

You looked over at him and raised your eyebrows, your skin on fire as you watched his eyes scan over the rapid chats flying in at once.

“Yeah.” You said, Matt finally meeting your eyes with pink cheeks. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your nose before he sat back and grinned widely.

“I guess that was one hell of a hard launch, huh?”

tags: @strniolo , @ssturniolo , @thetriplets3 , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @toyourloves , @lvrsparadise , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @jellybeanbby , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @champangekisses , @floofparker , @lovelysturniolo

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets #querenciasturniolo

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8mitsurikanroji8 · 1 year

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𝒦𝓃𝓎 𝒞𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈

ɪɴꜰᴏ : ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɴʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼

𝘛𝘢𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰. 𝘡𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶. 𝘐𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘦. 𝘔𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘰 . 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪 . 𝘖𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘪 . 𝘎𝘪��𝘶 . 𝘒𝘺𝘰𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘰 . 𝘔𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘪. 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘶.

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𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Not obvious at all ?

. He’s a sweatheart to everyone he meets ahem Tanjiro effect?

. Blushes whenever you get close ><

. Would offer moments with you

. “Y/n want to eat together ?” “Y/n want to train together?” “Y/n want to take a stroll” etc

. You think nothing of it but for him his heart beats fast and is comforted by these actions

. Doesn’t realize he has a crush on you

. Just thinks you have an amazing personality that draws him in

. It’s just that, right ?

. He finally gets the hint when you guys were alone on a stroll catching the sunset. He caught himself staring at you while smiling as you stood and watched the sun fall, painting the sky orange

. His face goes RED when he realizes ><

. He turns away trying to calm himself down

. You notice, concerned, you take your hand and put it on his face thinking he has a fever

. Faces is literally fire

. Other than that you don’t really realize his feelings for you as he seems to be the same. Only asking for more time with you and more blushing but your mind waves it off

. Little do you know he stares at you while your mind is adrift thinking

. His heart beats fast and his eyes soften

. Yep. He likes you.

𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Now this one you KNOW [ Sorta ]

. I mean he ask you to marry him only 2 minutes in meeting for the first time

. “YOURE THE PRETTIEST GIRL I HAVE EVER MET. PLEASE MARRY ME!”

. You are dumbfounded with his open admiration

. A little flatter? Yes. Caught off guard ? 100%

. Soon within getting to know him you learn of his lovely dovey personality

. Realizing he is like this with every girl you push aside his comments of marriage and admiration

. I mean he would say that to any one, right ?

. Wrong [ also right tho >< ]

. He would say this to almost every girl he’s met

. But after you ? Oh honey

. You don’t realize how he’s actually fallen for you. Deeply

. Follows you around like a duck

. Someone criticize you [ Even if it’s just critiquing so you know what to work on ]

. That person will not hear the end of it

. “Y/N IS THE BEST PERSON EVER AND IS THE GREATEST DEMON SLAYER SO YOU SHUT UP!”

. Cringey ? Mhm. Cute ? A little.

. If you use sweet words to him [ You mostly say them to everyone tho ] like “honey” “sweetie” “cutie” “sweetheart”

. What color do you want your wedding bouquet?

. He’s planning it all

𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You don’t know and neither does he ._.

.”FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW. LETS SEE WHO WINS!”

. That’s something you will never hear the end of

. He has no idea about what a crush is nor love

. He just thinks you’re a good fighter and wants to fight you whenever he can

. And you just think he’s being his normal weird self :)

. You don’t mind it [ usually ]

. He likes to eat with you

. If you both are heading to a mission and forget to pack yourself food

. He will eat his infront of you and say

. “HAHA IDIOT”

. You roll your eyes ignoring him

. Suddenly his food is being shoved down your throat no comment added

. You better not ask about it

. Your ears won’t be able to handle anymore of his yelling blabber

. But you take his action to heart and enjoy it

. His face is a bit pink

. BUT only because his boar head is warm, right ?

. Sureeee ._.

𝐌𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Who are you again ?

. Oh right. The one who gives him the hebegebees

. Jkjkjk

. well

. He’s too lost in the clouds to realize his feelings for you or even realize you’re the only one who’s company doesn’t annoy him or pushes away

. And you don’t realize because his vocabulary is just so grand

. “Mhm” “No” “Yes “I believe so” “What did you say?” “I assume” “Could be” “I have no opinion”

. You tag along him to the point where others know

. “Oh there’s Muichiro. Y/n must be near”

. And vice versa

. He doesn’t realize how close together you guys alway are

. When you’re away on a mission he finds himself with a unfamiliar feelings

. Oh you’re back! Never mind the feeling is gone nothing to worry about !

. You just like his character and enjoy spending time with him

. He won’t realize but he thinks the same

. And more ><

. Both of these are unaware to you and him

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Oh boy

. You may be strong both physically and mentally

. You’re enduring both his need to constantly train and his vicious tongue

. You most likely match his adittuide

. Oh he’s got something to say? So do you

. Everyone believes he HATES you

. I mean he does insult you and always wants to fight

. Poor guy doesn’t know what it is he’s feeling

. He didn’t really see romantic love in his childhood

. So he just stuffs those fast heart beat, pink cheeks and fuzzy feeling deep down and try’s to ignore it

. He doesn’t realize but one of the reason he always want to spear with you is because you guys spend close time together

. Also because he’s Sanemi

. And you being you, you don’t mind and take it as another challenge to conquer

𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You talk and he doesn’t

. Perfect match <3

. Here goes another damage one !

. His love language is definitely quality time

. You’re eating ? Under [ or up ] a tree? Simply walking around the garden ?

. Oh look there he is too!

. He definitely catches on to his physical and emotional reactions to you

. And you just thinks you guys are the closets of friends !

. You guys always seem to travel together

. Even in your free time you are found with him strolling around a village together

. Some one insults you?

. You’ll just ignore it and move on

. He doesn’t. Pray for that person.

. Kaburamaru seems to have also found a fondness for you

. He may be jealous of that fact

𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You don’t know what the others are talking about

. Giyu is lovely to talk to !

. He may be one of your favorite hasira to spend time with ♡

. He’s gentle and kind spoken [ with his little use of words ]

. He pays for your meals no matter how hard you insist and listen to you ramble for hours on end with no sign of annoyence

. Why would the others hate him?

. He’s like this with everyone, right ?

. Oh honey.

. You take these actions as part of his character, while he assume he act this way because of his admiration for you being so nice to him !

. I mean you are one of the few who do talk to him without insult

. It never clicks for him what the feeling really is

. That’s until one day

. [ Shinobu ] “Good evening Tomioka”

. [ Giyu ] “Evening Shinobu”

. [ Shinobu ] “You look as bland and boring as ever. How are you”

. [ Giyu ] *no answer*

. [ Shinobu ] “I must say without your little friend you somehow appear more dull. It is odd to catch a moment with you two apart”

. [ Giyu ] *nothing*

. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “It’s almost like you two are in a romantic relationship with how close you are.”

. His heart stops with that comment

. And his brain finally realize the feeling

. I mean he’s never felt this way before ♡

. His eyes trail off and soften, catching Shinobu attention

. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “ I was only just kidding. It’s not like someone like Y/n could admire your dull personality”

. Oh. Right.

𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. “YOU ARE ONE SKILLED SLAYER” “I ADMIRE YOUR TECHNIQUES” “GREAT JOB” “YOU HAVE INCREDIBLE SKILLS” “WONDERFUL WORK”

. He praises you non stop

. I mean who wouldn’t with your talent !

. You take his compliments as a part of his cheerful personality and respect it

. And maybe take a bit of flattery with it ><

. He does too

. He just admires you skill is all

…….

. He offers to dine with you or take you out to eat

. “Y/N WOULD YOU LIKE TO SPEND TIME AND DINE WITH ME!?”

. [ You ] “Oh um, sure okay!”

. “SPLENDID, LETS GET ON OUR WAY!”

. He always ask where you are

. Remembers the small things

. You like that color ? Oh look he just bought you a keychain with it. That’s your favorite food? Guess that’s where you guys are eating tonight

. His acts of romantic feelings fly over both of your guys head

. But not to anybody else

. *Kyojuro and you side by side laughing together*

. [ Slayer 1 ] “Are they together?”

. [ Slayer 2 ] “isn’t it obvious ?”

𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You guys are actually inspectable

. Always together <3

. She loves your company !

. Mitsuri finds everything about you adorable

. From they way you eat to your fighting techniques

. You make her feel safe ♡

. More touchy with you than others [ expect hugs, face pokes and hand holding when she’s around ]

. She definitely realizes her feelings for you

. She is the love hashira after all

. But she doesn’t act on it afraid you won’t feel the same and forever ruin the relationship you guys already have

. She’s oblivious to the shared love you have for one another

. *Mitsuri thoughts* Oh they just see me as a friend

. Mhm okay ._.

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. This one is a slow burn

. Every mission with you she seems to oddly enjoy

. Whenever you walk into her estate she feels a warmth

. Her heart flutters whenever you hug her or compliment her

. Your smile makes her smile

. She always watches you [ not in a creepy way >< ]

. She just finds herself drunk on the way your eyes light up

. Once it hits her why she feel this way poor girl try’s to ignore it

. Afraid to allow herself to get too close in this field of work

. But the heart wants what is wants ♡

. You begin to dine after missions together

. Have light conversation when running into each other

. And occasionally meet ups outside of work

. She compliments you often

. Once you start to spend more time together she will accidentally graze her hand over you thigh or your fingers just to see you reaction

. This girl knows what she’s doing

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A/n

ᴀʜʜ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ !! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ <3 ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

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4K notes · View notes

limpfisted · 8 months

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something great about wyll is like. how patient he is with other ppl. he NEVER expects them to be as good and kind as he is, and yet he still is patient and understanding with them. he has SEVEN YEARS of experience on the road, he can pierce a goblin all the way thru, hes got a +4 to animal handling, a +4 to intimidation, and yet with all his experience, he NEVER intimidates you. never even goes “get out of the way. let me do it.”

answer gale’s quiz incorrectly? thats alright, champ, “i think you meant—“ “easy mistake, i think it’s—“

lick the spider? thats interesting. keep licking the spider? thats ok chief. hope you learned ur lesson sowing your wild oats. (wyll also approves of licking the spider LOL.)

put ur hand in a weird hole? he loves wandering hands! but think more carefully next time.

you can hear theo solomon smile into every word

he calls the tiefling kids heroes for learning to fight

astarion says hes going to eat people and wyll doesn’t threaten to stake him—(nor does he when astarion actually bites him, even tho he teases from his very first reaction to astarion that hes ‘all bite.’) he says, youll have to settle for vagrant chickens. i imagine wyll would even help him chase some down.

wyll is respectful of the githyanki and lae’zel for being fearsome warriors, despite the war crimes

if you kill alfira, he doesnt blame you, he doesnt call you a monster, he simply mourns her loss, and genuinely understqnds the violence in you, and offers to help you redirect it

there are so many times wyll could just kill the dark urge/astarion and be done with it, and hes fully capable of doing so

and yet he CHOOSES to be kind, he chooses to help, he chooses to be a friend and a supportive “role model” in his own way. and he doesn’t make choices for people. he makes comments, sometimes sly, sometimes judgemental

but despite his extreme sense of righteousness. wyll is an extremely tolerant person who is generous with his kindness. he is careful with his words despite 99% of his dialogue being him being a silly goose. he is encouraging and so so so sweet

#ooc #hc

2K notes · View notes

ihave-atummyache · 3 months

Text

you drive me crazy

Stray Kids Imagine

summary: things that makes the boys weak in the knees.

OT8

5.3k words

NFSW!!! 18+

(some smut but not really a smutty piece. super suggestive tho!!)

(im just gonna post this and pretend i havent been mia for weeks<3)

Bang Chan: low rise pants

Your boyfriend doesn't know exactly what it is about you in low rise pants that gets to him, but he knows he's always having to drag his eyes away from that little sliver of skin. The fact that one wrong move could have him catching a glimpse of your panties makes him feel like a horny little teenager.

The two of you decided to go out one night, just some fairly private club that you frequented together. He sat in your living room while you placed finishing touches on your outfit for the night.

It had been a while since you went out and you were super excited to wear an outfit that you had been imagining in your head for months, but you just never got the opportunity to wear it.

You slipped the cargo pants up your legs and looked yourself over in the mirror again. You look hot. The corset top you had on accentuated your chest perfectly and was low enough that only the strip of stomach just below your bellybutton is visible. You quickly grab one of your favorite necklaces, a delicate "C" pendant hang just below your collarbone and you smiled at yourself one more time before grabbing your bag and walking to the living room.

Chan glanced up from his phone while you slipped your shoes on and had to do an honest double take. You were slightly bent over and that little sliver of skin that has him wanting to bend you over every surface is exposed right to his lurking eyes.

He stands quickly just as you straighten and approaches you from behind, pressing a kiss to the back of your shoulder. His hands find purchase on the exposed skin, his fingers sliding through your front belt loops and his thumbs rubbing over the warm skin of your hips, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

"You drive me crazy, baby," his voice is low and you let out a quiet hum when his lips brush over the back of your neck.

"I didn't do anything, Channie," you smile to yourself when you feel him smile against your skin.

"You know how much I love these pants. You're so pretty," he speaks up again, a shy chuckle following his compliment. You reach your hand back and scratch the back of his head, letting out your own chuckle.

"You compliment me too much," you tease and pull away from your boyfriend's arms to step out the door. He follows you out and his hand quick finds your hip again, holding you possessively close to his body as you make your way to the car.

It doesn't even matter if you have a little happy trail or if you're completely bare on that little spot. He just absolutely adores it. When you wear low rise pants in public, he secretly wishes you had a hickey over your hip so everyone knows that you belong to him. Or, even better in his opinion, a tattoo of his name or initial.

I imagine him being the type to be absolutely obsessed with a tramp stamp if you have one. His fingers always tracing over the lines when he’s looking at it or when he’s drilling into you from behind.

And if you happen to have a whale tail? It's over. You aren't even making it out the house. As soon as he lays eyes on the little string of your thong hanging out the top of your pants, all he wants is to pull them down your legs with his teeth and eat you out for hours.

Lee Know: flare leggings/yoga pants

Flare leggings make everyone's butt look good. It is a known fact around the world. It is also a known fact around the world that your sweet and loving boyfriend loves a good butt.

The first time Minho saw you in some black flare leggings, he didn't think much of it. You had told him earlier that you were going to a yoga class with one of your friends. Of course you would wear something along the lines of yoga pants.

You lean over and give him a quick kiss before you turn to leave and his eyes nearly pop out of his head at the sight. He was already sitting on the couch so he was essentially eye level with your ass, he had no choice but to look.

"Honey..." his voice trails off as soon as you bend over to pick up your bag from the ground, a low and involuntary groan leaving his throat. There's no way you had any underwear on and he so deeply wished he never had that thought because now his pants are significantly tighter than they were a few minutes ago.

"Yes? I need to go. What's wrong, love?" You turn to face him again. His eyes meet yours and he licks his lips before shaking his head.

"Never mind. Have fun!" He continues shaking his head, a smile cracking over his features. You eye him suspiciously before turning and heading to your yoga class.

The second time he sees you in flare leggings, you were meeting him at his house to go get some food with one of his friends and their significant other. You gently knock on the door before he opens it. His eyes immediately dart down and recognize the pants you have on, making him gulp.

You had on a cropped shirt with a cropped knit sweater and those damn black pants. You're smiling at him when his eyes finally meet yours again but his smile had quickly dropped.

"What's wrong? Did I do something?" You question, a frown taking over his features as your boyfriend clenches his jaw and shakes his head before stepping to the side to let you in. You wordlessly enter and kick your shoes off.

You sit your bag down at the table and before you even realize he's behind you, you feel a sharp slap on your ass. You jump at the sudden sting and immediately turn around. Minho's eyes only meet yours for a second before a smirk covers his face.

"You want my roommates to see you in these? I think I should burn them," He raises his eyebrows at you and you look down at your outfit, still confused before looking back up at your boyfriend.

"Min, I don't-"

"What? You're going to say you haven't noticed how amazing your ass looks in these pants when you wear them? No need to lie to me, princess. There's no way you haven't noticed," he interrupts you and you feel heat creep up your neck. You look away quickly but his hand grabs your jaw, turning you towards him before pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Mhm. Do I need to cancel our little double date so I can remind you that you're all mine? And I don't like people looking at what's mine, princess. You know that," He taunts and you blink at him a few times before shaking your head at him.

"What? You don't want me to fuck you so brainless that the only thing you remember is my name? That's so unlike you. I bet you don't even have any panties on..." he trails off, his fingertips grazing over your warm cheek before he presses his knee gently between your thighs and applies pressure to where you're pulsing in need because of his filthy words.

"We only have 20 minutes until we have to leave," you breath out and he presses against your core firmer, making a moan leave your mouth and your eyes flutter shut.

"Then you better cum quick, baby," he replies before crashing his lips against yours again.

Changbin: crop tops

Even if you have insecurities about your own belly, Changbin loves it. Whether you're soft or toned, he doesn't care. He loves rubbing his hands up your warm skin under your shirt and feeling the goosebumps rise on your skin at his gentle touch.

When you two started dating, it was quite cold so you didn't wear any crop tops around him. Once the weather finally started warming up, however, you wasted no time in whipping out the cropped shirts.

You two decided to grab brunch at a local cafe before going to the park to have a picnic since the weather had started warming up. Being spring, the air was quite cool in the morning but once you two were settling in for your picnic, the sun began to shine a bit brighter and it quickly became warmer, making you open your jacket, leaving your stomach exposed to the air.

Changbin doesn't even realize you have a crop top on until you stand and throw something away in a nearby trashcan. His eyes quickly drop to your stomach and he has to fight the smile makings it way to his face.

His sweet thoughts don't last long, however. His brain quickly morphs to the thought of the two of you last night when you whined out how he was too deep.

"I'm too deep, baby?" he teases and your eyes water slightly while you nod, placing your hand on your stomach.

"I feel like you're in my guts right now," you whine and he pushes all the way in before stopping, making you whimper.

"I am in your guts right now," he counters, a smirk on his face.

Then his thoughts quickly morph into the ending of the night when he pulled out and came on your stomach. The way your skin looked covered in his cum had him almost getting hard again.

"What are you thinking about, bun?" your sweet voice pries your boyfriend from his daydream and he blinks at you before his eyes dart down to your stomach again. You smile when you see him look. It's no secret he loves your belly.

"Why do you love my belly so much?" you smile, leaning on the table between the two of you. He mimics your position and also leans on his elbows, leaning into you.

"Why do you love mine?" he counters and you look up at the sky, as if the answer would fall from it, before making eye contact with your pretty boyfriend again.

"Touché," you reply and lean forward slightly before pecking his nose gently.

Even when the two of you are laying together, no matter what position you are laying in, his hands are drawing mindless shapes all over your tummy. If you're standing together in a line and you have a crop top on, his arm is either around your waist from the side or behind, his thumb drawing shapes on your warm skin and causing chills in its wake.

If you have a belly button ring, he often finds himself also fiddling with it randomly, like a fidget toy. He also loves buying you little bellybutton jewelry and of course tops that will show it off nicely.

He especially loves if you wear a crop top and he can see faint marks of himself from the night before. What some other people may see as just a small bruise on your side, he knows is the exact outline of his thumb.

He loves seeing the little red streaks on your stomach or crescent marks in your skin from him scratching at you when things get a bit intense for him to control himself.

I also see him as adoring those funny little baby tees with silly sayings on them. Would definitely buy you a baby tee that says "My bf knows how to fight" or one that says something like "Daddy's Princess" as a joke and then get completely flustered and cute and red if you ever actually wear it asdfhkkkg i love him.

Hyunjin: skirt

Okay I don't know exactly what puts this thought in my head but I just imagined Hyunjin liking a tall girl... like I just KNOW he loves a good set of long pretty legs. Honestly even if they’re short, I imagine he just likes long pretty legs.

So when he sees his lover in a skirt, their legs looking extra long and pretty, he loses his mind. He is definitely the type to absolutely worship every square inch of your body, so it is rare that you can actually wear skirts or shorts. Your thighs are usually littered with hickeys and bite marks that he is sure to replace every time they fade.

It’s honestly surprising that there isn’t an indent of his shoulders on the back of your thighs with how much time he spends with his head between your legs. Of course there ends up being evidence that he was down there.

He had been busy the past week and you guys haven’t been able to spend much time together and if you did, it was just a quick lunch during his break or you bringing him some coffee at the company or studio.

So, when your boyfriend texts you and asks if you want to come to dinner later, you practically jump up and down at the offer. When you’re getting dressed, you find a skirt that you had completely forgotten that you had and slipped it up your thighs.

You put on a cute fur cardigan and your black skirt and some comfy heels. You made yourself look extra pretty, although it would just be you, Hyunjin, and one of his hometown friends having dinner.

When Hyunjin arrived at your house to pick you up, you stepped out your door at the same time he was stepping up your stairs and he literally freezes at the sight of you. The heels you have on do something for him all in their own (we’ll save this thought for a pt 2…) and your legs look extra long in the combination.

You turn, a bright smile on your face and walk towards your pretty boyfriend. His hair has started getting longer and falling in his eyes so when you walk towards him, stopping at the step above him, you tuck his hair behind his ears and press a kiss to his forehead. He leans up and you press your lips gently against his.

His arms wrap around the top of your thighs, just under your butt and he gently lifts you, turns, and places you on the sidewalk.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he smiles against your lips and you can’t help but smile back at your cute boyfriend.

“I missed you,” you reply and he pulls back to look at your face before pressing a kiss to your temple and humming in agreement.

The entire ride to the restaurant, Hyunjin’s hand never leaves your thigh. His fingers subconsciously toy with the hem of your skirt while he tells you about his past few days and tries to catch you up on all the tea.

He doesn’t even notice your physical reaction to his hand accidentally drifting a bit higher as your skirt rides up, due to your wiggling around in your seat. He parks the car and unbuckles his seatbelt before turning his body towards you and placing both his hands on your thighs, the tips of his fingers sliding under your skirt.

He presses his lips to yours again and squeezes your thighs, making you gasp slightly into his mouth. He pulls back and looks at his hands on your thighs before settling back in his seat and getting out the car, quickly circling to open the door for you.

He holds your hand and helps you out of the car before closing the door behind you. He presses his lips to your knuckles quickly before dropping your hand and wrapping his around around your waist, settling on your hip instead.

“I’m so lucky,” he suddenly whispers and you blush. This is something you two often say to each other, both feeling equally as lucky to have each other.

He also loves skirts because of their…easy access. He is definitely the needy type that will just flip your skirt up and pull your panties to the side before fucking the daylights out of you. Whether it’s in the restroom of a restaurant or up against your front door when you’ve barely stepped inside, he likes the thought of being able to get to your pussy whenever he wants.

He loves to lay you back on the bed and eat you out with the skirt pushed up over your belly or laying over his head. He has no problems teasing you and lightly brushing his fingers against your panties at any chance he gets.

He just loves you and your pretty legs and wants to show you!

Han: thigh high socks

Han Jisung! Another one who is a sucker for pretty legs. He thinks that pretty things should be decorated, this includes your thighs.

He didn’t realize that seeing you in thigh high socks would get him going until Halloween came around. You two decided on matching costumes one night and you opted for a corny, overdone option, a sexy nurse and doctor. It was easy enough and the pictures would be cute so you both decided to do it.

Your sexy nurse costumes was complete with a pair of white fishnet thigh highs with red bows on the front of either thigh. Jisung was sat on your bed on his phone when you pulled the socks on and made your way over to your mirror. You pulled on some shoes then went to your vanity to top off your look with the perfect red lipstick.

When you leaned into the mirror, you knocked over some makeup which catches your boyfriend’s attention and he looks up from his phone at you. His view is you from the back, bent into your vanity and those thigh high socks hugging the plush of your thighs perfectly.

His throat ran dry and he gulps deeply before he catches your gaze in the mirror, already looking at him as you rub your lips together.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you tease and he lets out a soft chuckle before grabbing his phone and snapping a picture of you.

“Hey!” You sit up straight and turn to face him, your hands on your hips, “I was joking!” you smile and make your way towards him. When you place a knee on the bed, his eyes drop back down to the lace hugging the top of your legs.

“Mm. I need to update my jacking off material. You looked a little too good bent over the desk with these on,” he grazes his fingers over the bows of your socks then around the lace then over the fishnets. You pull your other leg up on the bed, careful to leave your shoes off the comforter and place your hands around his neck.

“Oh? You like them Dr, Han?” You tease and he lets out another chuckle, looking up at your face again. That damn lipstick wasn’t making it any easier to not want to fuck you right now and forget about the whole Halloween party.

“I like everything you wear. You could come out in a parka or a burlap sack and I would still get hard,” he confesses and turns his head, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“What do you like about them?” You ask, innocence lacing your tone, driving him even crazier.

“I’m thinking about how this material would feel on my cock. Especially when you start begging me to stop fucking your thighs and fuck you instead,” he places another kiss, slightly higher up your forearm, “I’m thinking about how this fishnet would feel on either side of my head,” another kiss against the inside of your elbow, then another kiss on your bicep before pulling back to look up at you.

Despite you instigating him originally, you feel yourself turn beet red at his words. He has a dirty, correction: filthy, mouth and he knows exactly how to use it to get you going (in more ways than one).

Jisung loves the way your thighs spill out the top of thigh highs when you sit down. The material barely containing your soft flesh and he just want to bite down on the skin.

If you ever have them on when you two start getting hot and heavy, the socks stay on (bc ur not gay). He rubs himself against the material, sometimes able to cum even if you aren’t there with the help of the sock.

Sometimes, when he’s extra needy, he’ll grab the sock from your hamper or drawer and wrap it around his cock before jacking off. He always feels like a creep afterwards but its the best way he has found to get release when he’s super pent up.

He tries to keep it a secret and you don’t have the heart to tell your cute little perv of a boyfriend that you know. Until, he is going away for a while on tour and opens his suit case to a pair of his favorite thigh highs, the ones from halloween, and a note in your handwriting.

Enjoy, my baby. Send me videos<3

Felix: lace

Okay let me explain. I imagine Felix just being an absolute horny little guy who also enjoys the classics. He LOVES a good set of lingerie. Which slowly turned to him just loving lace. When he sees you in a lace, corset top it doesn’t take much for his imagination to run wild.

Then when you had the audacity to show up to a party with a lace top and leather pants, he thought he was going to have an actual aneurysm. The combination of the leather and lace had him imagining he had just walked into his dream porno, you as the star.

The top was corset style and looked a little too similar to lingerie. When he asked you where you got it from and you leaned into him to whisper that you had ordered it online from a sex shop, he thoughts he was going to cum on the spot.

He could barely keep his hands off of you all night. It only worsened when you had returned to his side after a bout of dancing with some of your friends. His eyes followed a single drop of sweat that rolled down your neck and disappeared down the valley of your breasts and behind your lace shirt. That you ordered…from a sex shop.

When you two had gone shopping and you insisted he come into the dressing room with you, he didn’t think anything of it. You two usually did join each other in fitting rooms and bathrooms visits, call it separation anxiety.

You pulled your shirt over your head and Felix immediately cussed under his breath, making your brow drop to a frown as you threw your shirt to his lap.

“What?” you question and grab the new shirt, pulling it down and turning in the mirror a few times before Felix finally replies to you.

“You’re so fucking hot. Do you realize that? It’s taking everything in my power to not ask you to ride me right here, right now,” he suddenly says and you freeze before slowly turning to face him.

“Oh?” You question, a teasing smirk on your lips as you pull the shirt over your head again and his eyes drop to the black lace bralette again. It doesn’t have much liner and it isn’t helping that he can see your nipples through the bra too. Now that he knew what was under your hoodie, he wouldn’t be able to focus for the rest of your day together.

“Yeah. You know how I get when I see you in lace like this,” his voice is low, cautious that nobody outside the fitting room can hear your conversation. You walk towards him and place both hands on his shoulders.

He immediately leans forward and pops the bra against your skin with his teeth. There’s a light knock on the door and you pull away to continue trying on your clothes.

“Oops. Lets save this for when we get home, mister,” you tease and wink at him before pulling down your shorts, your panties match your bra and he groans again, making you smirk to yourself.

What finally sends him over the edge is when his phone vibrates beside him while he’s on a water break. It’s like you can sense when he’s on break and you always text him at the perfect time.

Sunshine: what do ya think? (: <link>

Felix’s jaw might as well have unhinged with how far it fell. The link took him to a site with a baby blue lingerie set. It was all lace with a few flowers strategically embroidered. He had to take a deep breath and stare at the picture for a while, trying his best to not get hard.

Sunshine: left on read? no likey?

The notification pops up at the tops of his screen and he realizes that he hasn’t replied to you after practically instantly reading your message.

Lixieee: i dont like. i love. i’m hard now. thanks<3

You simply loved the message and placed the order, excited for your new set to come in.

Seungmin: spandex shorts/biker shorts

It isn’t anything crazy and Seungmin swears he isn’t a perv. He just knows his baby is hot and knows what you have the capability of doing to him. He’s just a little obsessed with you.

You two were still best friends when he realized he had a thing for you in these tight little shorts. You had came to his house to just hangout. You weren’t looking too special, opting for some biker shorts and a hoodie and pulling your hair up into a messy updo.

He opens the door and you immediately hold your hand out to him, handing him the coffee you had picked up for him on the way.

“Hey, cutie,” you tease and step into his house before sliding your sneakers off and heading towards the living room. With your back turned, he got the opportunity to sneak a peak at your ass.

The biker shorts you had on left practically nothing to the imagination and he actually thinks he felt his heart stop when you bent over and he could make out the shape of your most private area through the shorts.

Okay maybe he was a perv.

“I like those shorts,” he comments and steps into the room before settling on the couch. You quickly plop down next to him.

“These shorts are a hit,” you comment nonchalantly and he looks over at you, waiting for you to elaborate. You chuckle and take a sip of your coffee.

“I wore these to the gym the other day with when I hit legs with Binnie and he said the same thing,” you reply and Seungmin feels himself clench his jaw at the thought of someone else looking at you the same way he had just been.

And you hit legs with him? Does that mean that he saw you squatting in these tight little shorts. Does that mean that he also saw you bending over the same way he just had? Had Changbin also made out the shape of your sweet cunt the same way he had? He turns away from you again to face the front.

You grab his arm and push it up to the back of the couch, scooting close to him and laying your legs over his thigh that was closest to you.

“What? Jealous?” you tease and Seungmin chuckles humorlessly at the accusation.

“Extremely.” He deadpans and glances over at you, your smile dropping at his confession.

“W-Why is that?” He threw you off with actually confessing to being jealous. You were used to him just teasing you back and you two bickering endlessly but never this.

“Because he got to see what’s mine,” he replies and shrugs and you open your mouth to reply but can’t think of the right words to say as a blush creeps up your neck at his words.

You definitely lose any sense of words when his hand drops to your bare thigh and starts kneading at the flesh. His hand creeps a little closer to your core and your legs fall apart slightly, granting him access. He lets out a laugh at how pliable you’re being and leans forward, setting his coffee on the table in front of you.

“No objections to that statement?” he raises his eyebrows at you and you snap your mouth closed before shaking your head.

“You can’t use your words, pup?” The nickname wasn’t anything new from him but the way his hand was rubbing your upper thigh and the way he is slowly leaning into you had your heart racing even more.

“Kiss me,” you command instead and he complies, leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours.

I.N: his clothes

Maybe it’s his possessive side but when Jeongin sees you in his clothes, his brain goes haywire. Sometimes he thinks you look so cute, especially if the clothes are swallowing you up. But sometimes, it makes him want to kiss you until you can’t breathe.

The first time you wore his clothes, it was completely unintentional. You two had just started dating and hadn’t taken many big steps in your relationship. So it was much to your, and Jeongin’s, surprise when you drunkenly called him while out with your friends.

You were practically begging him to come pick you up because you missed him and he couldn’t help but comply. He pulled up to the bar and you quickly made your way outside and sat down in his warm car. You smelled like straight liquor and vomit and Jeongin’s nose scrunched at the smell before he looked over at you.

“I didn’t throw up. I swear. Some stranger threw up on me and my friends didn’t want to leave yet. Can we go back to your house? I don’t have my keys…” you caught yourself about to ramble and trailed off but Jeongin just giggled at you.

“Of course,” he replies and put the car in drive before making his way to his house. Once you got there you asked if you could take a shower and borrow some clothes and he readily agreed. He sat out some shorts and a t shirt on the sink while you were in the shower and stepped back out to wait on you.

When you entered his room, he had to do everything in his power to not get hard. He had given you one of his comfiest t shirts, which also meant it was huge and it literally went almost down to your elbows.

“Come on, drunky,” he teases and lifts the blanket next to him. You blush and crawl into the bed next to him. He hands you a bottle of water and you take a few sips before handing it back to him and settling into his side.

“I’m sorry. Is this weird for you? If it is, I can go home. I know you want to take things slow but I don’t know how you feel about-”

“Y/n. Sweetheart,” he interrupts you and you snap your mouth shut, waiting for him to continue. He grabs under your chin and leans down, pressing his lips to yours. He tastes his toothpaste on your lips and for some reason, that also gets him going. The thought that if anyone else were to taste your lips, that they would taste like him.

“You look so pretty in my clothes,” he pulls away to say against your lips and you chuckle before leaning in to kiss him once more.

The way that you two got caught in your relationship was actually because of a tiny little detail. It stemmed from the two of you sharing clothes.

He had gotten a custom bracelet made for himself that was literally one of a kind in the world. You had gotten dressed up to go out and forgotten to put on a bracelet at your house so you asked your boyfriend if he could bring you one to make your outfit better. He agreed of course and later when you posted pictures on social media (pc: innie), you had the bracelet on. Stay was quick to zoom in and notice that it was the same custom bracelet that Jeongin usually wore.

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