#plus one from matt

[sturnioloho]

all chris moans so far 😇

[sturniolostars]

Chris in his light blue hat

[einaudis]

So, I look like a raccoon today, but that episode was so worth it.

[zimneognie]

this risky beauty palette and lipgloss 😩😩😩

[kennys-parka-jacket]

It took a year and a half, but I think I'm finally warming up to st-ndy :)

[britneyshakespeare]

throughout the series of drake and josh it pretty consistently implies that josh nichols is a christian (josh peck is jewish) and in the finale of the series helen (played by yvette nicole brown, not jewish[?]) is portrayed as a practicing jew

[terresdebrume]

Good part of losing some weight: I'm going back to a silhouette and body I'm comfortable with and generally feel better about existing with said body, which is cool.

Bad part of losing weight: my fucking pants keep trying to fall of my ass and I am At Work.

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour is Upon Us

In which Max decides that maybe doing interviews isn't such a bad thing.

Warnings: jos verstappen mention ew Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.5k plus social media posts

Series Master List Main Master List

TheYappingHour posted:

349,219 likes liked by redbullracing, charlesleclerc, and others TheYappingHour Back at it this week with a very super top secret special guest. I simply can't wait to reveal who's on this weeks pod, you guys! You're going to DIE. (peep the clue in the second picture!) user928 her podcast set up is so aesthetic i can't user0928 RED BULL??? what does this meeeeeean??? >>>user1211 she hasn't done a ton of athletes in the past, maybe she got one of the Red Bull athletes!! user00291 DU DU DU DU MAX VERSTAPPEN. (shhh let me be delulu for a minute) >>>user221 as much as i'd love that, we all know how much Max hates interviews.

There was absolutely no reason why having Max Verstappen on your podcast should be making you this nervous. You’ve interviewed actual heads of state, a former president, and royalty for crying out loud and you’re losing your mind over Max fucking Verstappen? You supposed it came from the fact that you had spent most of your childhood traveling from track to track to watch your dad race in NASCAR, racing was in your blood and you knew how revered and idolized Max was. And how rabid his fans could get. You wanted to get this interview right. Needed to get this interview right. Motorsport were still a huge part of your life, even if you weren’t really outwardly an active fan. You never missed a NASCAR or F1 race and while you considered yourself a Ferrari girlie, Red Bull was most certainly your second team. 

“Everything ready?” Your assistant Shannon pokes her head in as you fluff the last throw pillow on the cream colored lounge chair. Scanning the room, everything looks to be in order. The two overstuffed chairs dominate the center of the small recording studio, each with a microphone set up on a small side table next to each chair. Instrumental versions of Taylor Swift songs floated out of small speakers tucked away and a few candles burned in the low light of the studio, creating the exact ambiance you were famous for. 

You’d been doing your podcast, The Yapping Hour, for nearly five years now and it was now one of the most popular podcasts being produced. You specialized in relaxed interviews of people that the general public don’t get to see relaxed very often. Your big break had come about 3 years ago when you had somehow managed to land an interview with Michelle Obama, her episode was still the most streamed episode of yours to date. Everyone had fallen in love with your interview style, how you got these normally highly media trained individuals to drop their guard down a little and be real for even just an hour. It gave people such a unique glimpse behind the curtain of fame and your fans ate up every bit of it. 

“I think so!” You nod, smoothing down the front of your boyfriend cut jeans even though the denim is perfectly ironed without a single wrinkle. 

“Good, because he just pulled in the parking lot.” Shannon smirks. She knows how nervous you are for this interview and is insisting it’s because you have a crush on the driver. Which would utterly unprofessional if it were true. But it wasn’t true. At all. “And he’s driving this matte black Aston Martin.” She closes her eyes as she bites her lip, smirk growing even wider. 

“Okay, let’s cool it on the hero worship.” You warn, following Shannon out into the lobby of the building. 

 Outside, it’s a dreary late April morning in the heart of downtown London. You had traveled from your home base in New York City just for this interview but had been surprised at how much you liked the ambiance and energy in the city. So much so that you had extended your stay a few extra weeks. The good thing about being your own boss of a podcast was that you could literally work from anywhere you had your laptop. 

Peering out into the parking lot, you’re surprised to see a lone figure in jeans and what looked to be a Red Bull windbreaker, hustling across the pavement towards the door. When he approaches the door, Shannons steps forward to open the door, a gust of wind whipping at your hair when Max comes bustling in through the doors. 

“Hello!” Max’s voice sends involuntary shivers down your spine, a feeling you fight hard to shove down. This is not the time to be a fan girl, you remind yourself. 

“Hi Max, thank you so much for joining us today! Can I get you some water or maybe some tea?” Shannons steps forward first, extending her hand. 

Max takes it and gives her a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Water is fine, thanks.” 

“Max, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.” You step forward then, the heels of your black Louboutain’s clicking on the hardwood floor as you approach him. It takes every ounce of focus you have not to react at what feels like a white hot spark flickering over your skin when his hand touches yours for the first time. 

“Pleasure is mine.” He murmurs, cat like smirk replacing the warm smile that had greeted Shannon. Your social media did you absolutely no justice and Max was finding it hard to keep his composure you were so pretty. 

“Are we waiting on anyone else or is it just you today?” You ask, eyes darting above his shoulder to see if there was anyone still in the parking lot. 

“Why? Will I be needing my body guard today?” He quips as he follows you towards the recording studio.  

You pray the dim lights in the studio hide the way you’ve gone pink. “Of course not! It’s just that normally the people I have on the show travel with an…entourage.” 

“I don’t like people.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious fact in the universe. “I prefer to travel solo. Besides, I’m no Queen of the Netherlands or Justin Trudeau, I don’t really need an entourage.” 

He casually drops two of your biggest interviews like it’s nothing and you feel the pink tinge of your cheeks heat to a crimson red. “You’ve listened to the show then?” 

He nods, taking the seat you offer him as Shannon and your AV guy Steve bustle around getting things set up. A bottle of water appears for each of you and you take out the pages of notes you’ve made even though you’ve got all the questions memorized. You like to be prepared and prefer your interviews to be more conversational, less question and answer. 

“I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” His eyes hold this glint of mischief that if you were less of a professional, would have you biting your lip and kicking your feet. Truth was, Max had spent an ungodly amount of time on your socials and wikipedia page, obsessing over you and your career. 

“And yet you still came.” You tease.

“I did.” He says simply and you can’t help but notice how his gaze briefly drops from your eyes down to your lips and quickly back up. It’s so quick that if you weren’t in the business of watching and observing people, you probably would have missed it. But those baby blue eyes of Max’s are so easy to read, all you can do is grin back at him. 

“Well, thank you for making the trek into London today. I do appreciate it.” 

You briefly explain how the interview is going to work, how Steve is going to make sure everything is set up and recording, how you’ll post audio and video versions and that he can have final say in anything that goes in or stays out of the interview. You’ve found that a lot of your guests appreciate that little clause and in the five years you’ve been doing the show only a handful of bits have been kept out. You like to think it’s because you’re good at what you do and get people to open up on a level that they feel comfortable with. 

Steve finally gives you the okay and you settle into the cozy lounge chair, Max sitting comfortably in the one opposite you. 

“Thank you again for joining me today, Max. I’ve got to admit, I was a little surprised when your manager said you’d agreed to come on the show. You don’t do a lot of lengthy interviews and I could only find a handful of podcast appearances over the years. So, why The Yapping Hour? Why now?” 

Max takes a sip of water before placing it on the table beside him. His shoulders are relaxed, his ankle sitting on his knee is a causal pose. You’ve become a veritable body language expert since starting the show and you can already tell this is going to be a good interview. 

“I like your style.” His blunt answer throws you off for a moment and your cheeks heat. Again. You make a mental note to make sure they edit your complexion in post production to take the blush out. “GP sent me the one you did with Dale Earnhardt Jr a few months ago and I was impressed at how authentic you were. Dale is a character but you got a lot of depth out of him. Your questions went beyond the typical ‘what’s your favorite race track.’” 

“Well, thank you. That is quite the compliment coming from you.” For the third time in a short time, you blush at the compliments this man is handing out left and right. 

Your eyes flicker above Max’s shoulder to where Shannon and Steve sit, their smug faces tell you that you’re not imagining him flirting with you. 

“I have to tell you, I went karting with a few friends in prep for this interview and oh my God, I’ve been sore ever since! I can't imagine how hard an F1 car is on your body. Talk to me a little bit about your training sch-…”

“You went karting as research?” He interrupts you, face a mask of disbelief. 

Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Of course, I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” You toss him a wink and enjoy the way your stomach flips when his ears go a bit pink. “My dad beat me by almost 20 seconds and I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of it, but it was worth it. I can see why so many people get hooked, it was so fun.” 

“Karting with a NASCAR legend had to make it a little better though, yeah?” 

“You know my dad?” Your brows nearly hit your hairline, you’re so surprised at this. Your dad had been long retired before Max had come onto the racing scene and there wasn’t a huge overlap in fan bases between F1 and NASCAR. 

Max nods, “He was racing around the time Jos was in F1. I still remember that one Daytona 500 where he stole the win from Earnhardt Jr on the last lap after he’d led for the entire race.” 

You tilt your head back laughing and Max thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever heard, fully entranced by the long column of your neck that’s suddenly exposed. “Oh God, dad is going to die when he hears you know about that race.” 

“Have either of you been to an F1 race yet?” A plan begins to form in Max’s head. 

“No!" You lean forward to swat at his arm playfullt. I’ve tried a few times but it’s always fallen through. I do watch most of the races though, as long as my schedule permits. Sometimes it’s easier when you guys are in Europe because the races are so early in New York, it’s easy to watch them from bed on Sunday mornings.”

The image of you wrapped up in a fluffy duvet wearing nothing but his t-shirt as you watch him race nearly sends Max into orbit. He blinks furiously, trying to get that vision out of his mind so he can pay attention to you. 

“Tell me this then, if you could pick any garage to watch the race which one would it be and why would it be Red Bull?" 

You can’t help that laugh that explodes from you then and Max preens under your attention, smile stretching wide across his handsome face. “You know, I could have sworn it was my name on the podcast Instagram page.” You tease, giving him a wink. “You keep asking me questions, I’m going to be out of a job, Verstappen.” 

“I can’t help it when the interviewer is much more interesting than I am.” He murmurs, taking another sip of water without taking his eyes off of you.

The rest of the interview continues on for the next two hours and you get so much content you feel a little dizzy at the thought of having to cut over half of the episode. For the first time in the podcast’s history, you may have to split this into two episodes. Max doesn’t mind one bit, finding that he’s not as nervous as he thought he’d be with how easy he finds it talking to you. 

You wrap up the interview over an hour past the time you had told Max’s press officer it would last but neither of you make any movement to get up, despite both Shannon and Steve beginning to wrap things up. 

“I’m so sorry I kept you this long, Max. I know you’re not a huge fan of lengthy interviews.” 

Max just shrugs, “If all interviews were like this, I probably would say yes to a lot more of them.” 

You grin over at him as you rise, realizing the sun is setting outside and your stomach is aching for food. Max follows suit, although he feels a clench in his stomach realizing that his time with you is coming to an end. 

“Can I ask you something?” He says when Shannon and Steve walk out of the studio, leaving the two of you alone. 

You look up at him and nod earnestly, “Of course!” 

“Why didn’t you ask me about my childhood? Usually it’s one of the first things people ask me, especially in these kinds of interviews.” 

You shrug, face heating at being found out. “Like you, I do my research and I figured you might not want to talk about that part of your life. I want my guests to feel comfortable when they come on the show, not immediately put on the defensive. I guess I thought there were other more important topics…” 

Your words hang in the air, heavy between you two. Something in Max’s chest aches at the simple kindness you’ve extended him. It’s true, he doesn’t like revisiting his childhood very often, especially when it’s recorded and will be put on the internet. His dad was very much still in his life, obviously, and while he had done a lot of work to move past his childhood, it was still painful to talk about.  

“Thats…wow. Thank you.” Is all he can manage, voice thick with emotion. 

“Of course.” You murmur, reaching out to touch his elbow in what you hope comes across as a comforting gesture. 

Max’s eyes drop to where your slender fingers rest on his bare arm before a smile stretches back across his face. “I know it’s kind of last minute but you were saying earlier you’d never been to a race. We’re in Miami next weekend and I’d love it if you were my guest…” 

You can’t help the flutter in your chest at how nervous he appears standing before you. Your eyes dart over to Shannon, the official keeper of your schedule and are delighted when she nods vigorously, phone in hand with your calendar already pulled up. You made a mental note to give that girl a raise ASAP. “I would love to, Max.” 

“Yeah?” He sounds almost shocked that you had agreed so quickly. 

“Yeah.” You say, a hint of a giggle at the edge of your voice. 

“How about I take you out to dinner tonight and we can work out the details.” 

“Why Max Verstappen, I had no idea you were this smooth.” 

TheYappingHour posted

987,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, susiewolff, and others TheYappingHour SURPRISE! Part one of my interview with none other than 3 time F1 world champion Max Verstappen is live on all socials RIGHT NOW. (yeah, I said part 1! We both yapped so much you're getting a part two next week!) user9382 the chemistry between these two was OFF THE CHARTS >>>user111 ikr? i felt like i was interrupting something the entire hour. MaxVerstappen1 it was a pleasure meeting you! can't wait to see you in Miami this weekend! >>>user2999 MAX WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HER IN MIAMI. >>>user999 stfu she is so coming to the Miami race?? MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN. user3210 has she ever done a two parter before??? not even the Queen of the Netherlands got a two parter!! user9928 i don't think i've ever seen Max this relaxed during an interview EVER. >>>user222 seriously! He was like a little boy with a crush then entire time.

yourpersonalinsta posted

234,100 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, michelle obama, and others yourpersonalinsta we yapped some more and stuffed our faces. til next time, maxie! (tagged: maxverstappen1) user999 not michelle obama herself in the likes maxverstappen1 you're going to be trouble in miami, aren't you? >>>yourpersonalinsta what do you think? ;) >>>user9932 oh my godddddd user028 this is the couple i didn't know i needed

tag list (some of you only requested to be on a series tag list but i am not organized enough for that. lmk if you want to be removed!! also fingers crossed this tag list works this time ffs. sorry!)

@anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream

[sturniolostars]

﹫Jerking Off﹫

In which: Matt has been horny all day and all he wants is to take some of the edge off

TW: being horny, jerking off, dirty talk (kind of?), grinding

I’ve been so fucking horny all goddamn day. I’ve had to drive Nick and Chris all over and had to pick shit up for them when all I wanted was to be alone in my room thinking about you.

Finally after a whole day of errands and running around, Chris was at a friend’s house along with Nick leaving me alone.

I beeline to my room and plop down on my bed face first. I could feel my erection straining painfully against my pants. I lazily roll my hips forward grinding into my bed.

I let out a pathetic whine. God I really was desperate. I thought of how you’d degraded me. How’d call me a little slut for grinding into my bed like a little bitch in heat.

I grind faster not even realizing how close I was until my hips were bucking into my mattress. With a load moan I feel myself tip over the edge. “Such a pathetic boy cumming in your pants” I heard your voice taunt in my head.

I quickly rolled over unzipping my jeans and pulling them down with my boxers my cock springing up. I use the leftovers of my previous orgasm and spread it around my cock.

I squeeze my base letting out a moan before starting long slow strokes up and down my already sensitive dick. My pace increases as I keep thinking of you.

I think if you teasing me until I’m crying, or cumming all over your face and tits after you suck me off. I thrust up into my hand needy whines and whimpers echoing off my walls.

“Please mommy I need–“ I whine circling my tip “please let me cum” I beg out to your ghost. And with that I feel my second orgasm crash over me. My eyes roll back as my thighs shake.

Once I come back to my senses I clean myself off and change my clothes feeling much better than before. Until I look at my phone and see your new post on instagram.

Fuck this was going to be a long night

a/n: this isn’t proofread so sorry if there are mistakes I might go in and fix them if I catch them later. And I’ll have a similar Chris version of this out soon along with maybe one or two more parts of pucking around tomorrow!

[mattsmedusa]

✎ 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐱𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ✯ 𝐦.𝐬

ⓘ best friends ᚐ sexual tension ᚐ pet names ᚐ fingering your mouth ᚐ raw raw ah ah ah or whatever lady gaga said ᚐ sough rex ᚐ size kink ᚐ big dick!matt ᚐ praise kink ᚐ creampie ᚐ tiny plot twist ᚐ etc. + intended lowercase. 𝐰𝐜. 𝟏.𝟔𝐤

[𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞!]

from gum to the back of your pencil, you had to have something in your mouth when you weren’t eating or talking. it wasn’t as bad when you were a kid but as you grew older it kept getting worse. you had developed a bad case of oral fixation and your best friend, matt, was the first one to notice it.

you never realised how bad it had become until matt pointed it out one day, joking about how you always had something in your mouth.

"you hungry? you’re chewing on your hoodie string." he’d say with a teasing grin, earning an eye roll from you.

"bruh, if you keep nibbling on your pen, you’ll have to buy a new one ‘cause ain’t no way that thing’s ever gonna work again." he’d say as he hands you a piece of gum.

"kid, you’ve had that popsicle stick in your mouth since this afternoon." he’d comment and chuckle.

matt didn’t think too much about it at first—it was more amusing than anything, but it wasn’t long before his thoughts started to become inappropriate. he’d imagine other scenarios where you’d have something in your mouth—something big enough to make you gag and choke.

he always tried to will his mind to stop thinking about shit like that, but it never worked.

today wasn’t any different. matt was already having difficulty keeping his thoughts family-friendly but the way you were sucking that lollipop drove him absolutely insane. you probably weren’t even aware how sexy you looked right now in your loose pajama pants and white tank top combo, sucking on your candy like it was something else.

you had suggested a sleepover and matt couldn’t refuse, plus it’s not like he’d ever say no to you. but now that he was sitting cross-legged beside you in his own pj’s as you picked a movie to watch, it was starting to become more and more difficult to keep himself from acting like a horny teenager.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

it had been a few minutes since the movie began playing on your laptop and matt’s eyes kept drifting to your lips; he wasn’t even paying attention to the movie anymore. all he could think about was how good your mouth would feel around his-

"you want some chocolate?" your offer snapped him out of his thoughts and he cleared his throat before mumbling a hoarse "yeah, thanks" and popped a small piece of chocolate in his mouth, chewing slowly as his eyes stayed trained on the laptop screen to not blatantly stare at your lips again.

you shrugged off his odd behaviour, chalking it up to something your mind made up at the moment and focused back on the movie. matt, on the other hand, kept sneaking sideways glances at you, watching as you sucked on your lollipop.

fuck, he was already growing hard.

matt shifted subtly, anxiously pulling the blanket up more but the bulge ftom his raging hard-on was still there. he scanned the room for something to cover his lap and seeing a pillow discarded on the floor beside the bed, he almost whooped out in triumph.

he quickly took it and put it on his lap in a pathetic way to hide his boner from his oblivious best friend. sneaking a glance at you, a shaky sigh left his lips, thankful that you were still focused on the movie ahead.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

it was starting to become boring after one too many movies and you two decided to just sit and talk about random things. you laid on your stomach as you opened a game on your phone, the lollipop stick still in your mouth as you absentmindedly nibbled on it.

matt couldn’t help but stare, watching as your plump lips wrapped around the thin stick, wishing it was his dick instead. he shook his head subtly as if that’d make his explicit thoughts disappear.

"so uh… what’re you playing?" he suddenly seemed so interested in what you were doing on your phone, making you look up at him with a confused expression. "wh-what?" he said before you could even utter a word.

you gave him a look and chuckled, mumbling a quiet "nothing" as you went back to playing your game. "it’s just some puzzle game, been really into it these days." you answered his question after a few seconds, your eyes still trained on your phone screen.

he nodded even though you couldn’t see it. "i see…" he said as he laid beside you. "you know... you should, uh, maybe discard that thing already?" he referred to the lollipop stick in between your teeth, his eyes darting down to your lips before quickly snapping back up to your eyes.

"nah, i’m good." you replied, not looking up from your phone. your feet lifted up, ankles crossing as you swung them subtly back and forth, still laying on your stomach. "what, is it bothering you matty boo?" you joked, giggling at your own lame joke.

"i’m hard." he blurted out, a little too breathless. "and your fucking oral fixation is not helping, sweetheart." his chest heaved slowly, breath getting shallower as he tried to control them. the way you were looking at him nearly made him groan in frustration—those doe fucking eyes, looking at him so surprised like a deer in headlights.

"and? you’re saying it’s my fault your body decided to act like a horny teenager-" "yeah, it’s your fault." he cut you off, his eyebrows rising slightly as if he was daring you to say anything more.

you stared at him for a moment before sitting upright, a slow grin creeping onto your lips, causing matt’s breath to hitch in his throat. you slowly removed the thin lollipop stick from your mouth, tossing it in the trashcan beside your bedside table before leaning forward, eyes glinting with mischief. "you want my help then?"

oops, not the smartest thing to say.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

two long digits were shoved inside your mouth, your lips sealed around them, muffling your moans. matt’s hips were unrelenting, slapping against yours with lewd wet smacks, each one harder than the last. his fingers tightened on your hip, your legs thrown over his shoulders, allowing him to go deeper.

"is this what you meant when you said you wanted to help me?" matt drawled, his voice all gruff and hoarse from exertion and desire. "such a good girl, huh? helping her best friend get off." he laughed breathlessly, amusement oozing out of every word.

matt watched with hooded eyes as you nodded frantically, eyes threatening to roll back as his thick cock hit every right spot. a slow, lazy grin spread across his lips. "c’mon, pretty, suck on my fingers—what happened to your oral fixation? my dick’s so good you can’t even do what you can do best?"

his words caused you to momentarily snap out of your cock-drunk daze, making you suck on his fingers, nibbling softly, moans vibrating on them. he groaned low in his throat, finding the way you were sucking on his fingers to be too fucking sexy—enough to make his stomach tighten with his impending release.

but he wanted you to come first.

and so, he fastened his pace, angling his hips to hit that sweet spot that drove you crazy. the sound of sex, raw and wet, filled the room, along with your muffled moans and his groans and grunts. the bed creaked rhythmically underneath you, no doubt making enough noise for his neighbors to understand what he was doing.

matt’s eyes fluttered closed when he felt your velvet walls flutter around his pistoning cock, his brows knitting together due to how good your pussy squeezed around him. he couldn’t help but let out a low, deep moan, hips blurring as he fucked you into oblivion.

"c’mon, baby, i know you’re right there... don’t fucking hold back—oh, fuuckk... just like that, squeeze me like you wanna suffocate my dick." he groaned shamelessly, the dirty talk flowing out naturally. he began to move his fingers in your mouth, mimicking the way his length was destroying your sopping cunt.

it wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm crash over you.

"theere you go, you’re such a good girl." matt breathed out, feeling your insides pulse rhythmically around his shaft, his eyes closing briefly and hips stuttering at the feeling. "such a good girl—cumming on my cock so prettily."

matt picked up the pace again, his fingers slipping out of your mouth to hold your hips with both hands so he could really fuck you like he meant it. his hips smacked against yours loudly, and your moans and mewls filled the room—nothing in the way to muffle it.

"thaaat’s right, pretty, moan for me—show me how much you love my big fucking cock." he groaned, chasing his own orgasm.

a few more slams and his breath hitched, before a drawn-out moan slipped past his parted lips, his length twitching inside you as it painted your walls white with cum. "best fucking pussy—soo fucking good." he groaned softly, gently taking your legs off his shoulders and setting them down.

matt collapsed onto you, catching himself on his elbows as to not crush you under his weight. his forehead rested against yours, eyes still closed and breath hot and heavy. "so good." he whispered, breathless but sated.

"next time... you should let me suck you off, i’ve an oral fixation after all." his eyes fluttered open at your words, his expression turning slightly puzzled when he saw the small smirk on your lips.

then he remembered all those small smirks, the deliberate way you sucked on your lollipops and ice pops, and a look of realization slowly replaced his confused one, an amused smile creeping up his face. "you little fucking tease." he chuckled softly, giving your hip a small squeeze.

your oral fixation was over exaggerated on purpose huh?

୨୧

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

[sweetshuga]

String you out ۶ৎ Chratt

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

Warnings⚠︎ Smut!, Suggestive remarks!, strong language!, threesome!, size kink, lowkey breeding kink, pet names, p in v, dp, unprotected sex (do not), oral (m! receiving), squirting, vibe, slight intoxication (but full consent), etc.

Word count. 3k

Note. English is not my first language! Not proofread!

Psa. Matt refers to reader as "pretty" and Chris refers to reader as "ma", just so you don't get confused with the dialogues.

Sum. Everything goes south when you show up at the campus Halloween party in a tiny black witch costume; becoming their prey for the night.

You weren’t prepared when your best friend came knocking at your door with a big duffle bag, trying to convince you to come to the annual Halloween party, but you had already decided to stay in your dorm room and continue doing your assignments.

"C’mon, don’t be like that, I even bought us matching costumes," she stepped inside, letting you close the door behind her. "I can help you do your make-up, please?" Your friend begged, plopping down on your bed. You sighed and rubbed your temple, "I told you already, I’m not going, that Halloween party will probably be just like a frat one and you know how I am about frat parties."

Your friend crossed her arms with raised eyebrows, "no, it won’t be like a frat party, but I guess there’ll be those fraternity guys there since you know... Campus party, everyone’s gonna be there–" you cut her off, "except for me," causing her to collapse back onto your bed.

"Pretty please?" She pleaded again, jutting her bottom lip out dramatically, making you laugh. "No, like I said–" she cut you off with a groan, "c’mooon, Halloween happens only once a year..." her voice trailed off as a grin made its way onto her lips, "if you go this once, I won’t bug you again, like I promise I won’t ask you to come to frat parties with me."

You couldn’t help but be tempted with the deal, clearing your throat as you looked at her, "you serious?" She nodded vigorously, "yeah, I am, I am dead serious, so? will you?" You sighed and nodded, eliciting a happy "yay" from her.

She immediately spilled the contents from her huge duffel bag, tons of make-up products and two matching witch costumes. You picked one up, inspecting it. The costume was incredibly short and could almost pass off as a long shirt.

"Are you serious? This is what you picked?" She gave you a deadpanned look, "it’s Halloween! You know what they say, the only time of the year to be as slutty as you want." She nudged your arm, grinning, "plus I bet guys would go nuts when they see you in this."

𓆩♡𓆪

Your friend helped you with your make-up, and as you looked in the mirror, you felt like you were someone else, in a good way. The costume was short, but it made you feel a bit more confident than usual. The black heel boots you had lying around – that you’ve been wanting to wear for so long – seemed to match the vibe of the dress.

The long sleeves and overall style of the costume had already started to grow on you. "Not too bad," you said as you curled your hair, "yeah? told you so," your friend grinned triumphantly, making you roll your eyes in a playful manner.

The moment you arrived at the party, your ears immediately rang at the loud music, "fuck, why is it so loud here?" you shouted to your friend, trying to get your words across the short distance, but the music drowned out your voice.

"It’s always this loud, you’re just not used to it, c’mon, let’s get drinks!" She dragged you towards the table of drinks, expertly weaving through the crowd. Alcohols that you didn’t even know the names of were stacked in an oddly neat way along with soft drinks, water and way too many solo cups.

A girl standing by the table, dressed as the grinch, offered to make you and your friend drinks, halloween specials. As you were sipping on your drink, you noticed a pair of guys, almost identical looking.

"Holy fuck, you know who they are?" you nudged your friend, jerking your head at the direction of the guys dressed as vampires. She followed your gaze and looked at them, "yeah?" she chuckled, "you don’t?" Shaking your head as you kept your gaze on the guys, unable to take it off of them.

"Of course you don’t, you’re always buried in schoolwork," she clicked her tongue, "they’re quite famous around campus you know?" You let out a huff, taking another big gulp of your drink, groaning at the burn of the mixed alcohols. "So? Who are they?"

"The one with the cap is Chris and the one that doesn’t have a cap is Matt, obviously, they’re identical triplets, but I don’t think Nick’s here today." You let out an "oh" sound of understanding before you took another sip of your drink.

"Heard they got a bro code or whatnot, like they wouldn’t hit the same girl," your friend shrugged, telling you all she knew about them, "yeah... couldn’t care less, c’mon let’s just dance or something," you said pulling your friend away from the table of drinks and onto the dance floor. You couldn’t help but feel interested despite your words.

After one too many drinks and a few stolen glances later, you found yourself in a bathroom, two pairs of hands roaming over your body while you shared a kiss with one of the guys—the one with the cap.

The other one kissed your neck, trailing it down to your collarbone and leaving love bites there before going back to your neck. The one with the cap broke the kiss, "you know our names ma?" He breathed out, "uh... you’re Chris, and he’s Matt, right?" you asked hesitantly, the slight intoxication making your mind a jumbled up mess.

"Mhm—bingo, pretty," Matt whispered, his lips grazing just under your earlobe, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as they continued to kiss and caress your body, your body reacting to every word and touch from them, making their faces light up with smirks.

Their fake fangs nipped at your skin, causing you to gasp softly each time. "Say, let’s go to a more comfortable place?" Chris suggested, "Yeah, can’t really do much in a bathroom," Matt chuckled as he added.

They led you out of the bathroom and weaved through the crowd of people dancing. You tried to find your friend to tell her you were going but you couldn't find her in the crowd. Suddenly, you got a message and a photo from her apologizing saying that she was gonna head home with her boyfriend since it was getting late. How convenient.

You sighed and let the guys lead you out of the party, your costume rode up ever so slightly as you tried to balance on the heel boots in your slightly tipsy state. You were very much aware of your surroundings and the two fellas, dressed as vampires, leading you towards their car.

"Where are we going?" You asked, a bit puzzled but willing. Matt and Chris both chuckled in unison at your confused state, "oh yeah, we’re gonna go to our place, you mind?" Chris asked as he looked back at you, "I mean, if you don’t feel comfortable with that, we could always hit up a hotel," Matt shrugged.

You hummed, looking back and forth between them before making your decision, "no, yeah, i’m good with your place," they both visibly relaxed and grinned, "alright then, hop in, pretty," Matt said as he opened the backseat door.

𓆩♡𓆪

The drive to their place was fairly fast, accompanied by small talks and laughter, but that quickly turned into heated kisses and breathy moans once you got inside their house. Stumbling into one of their rooms, they started to strip you out of the skimpy costume.

Gently pushing you on the bed before they started to strip themselves, your gaze raked over their bodies as you waited on the bed, biting your lip in anticipation. Once they were matching you in nakedness, they sat on either side of you, starting to lavish attention to your body once again.

"Fuck, you’re so beautiful ma, so fucking beautiful," Chris murmured against the swell of your breast, "mhm... so pretty" Matt whispered an agreement in your ear before kissing along your jawline, his hand caressing your body, slowing inching down to cup your mound.

You hissed softly when his fingers made in contact with your swollen clit, slick with arousal, and throbbing for attention. The brothers quickly picked up on your growing need and desperation as they saw just how wet you had become.

Your folds glistened in the dim light of the bedside lamp, the obvious need evident in your tone when Chris plunged a finger inside your tight heat. "Fu—ck," you moaned softly, your breathing a lot more ragged now that he was moving his digit in and out of you, slipping in a second finger and smirking at how you seemed to suck in his fingers.

"Someone’s eager," Matt chuckled, his voice a bit deeper than usual, betraying his arousal. The pads of his fingers started to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting slightly louder moans from you.

The feeling was already so pleasurable, and you didn’t know if it was the alcohol making you feel more than usual or just the brothers themselves, either way you knew you were incredibly turned on.

They adjusted your position, easily manhandling you, but their touch was gentle– almost tender if you will. The new position gave them more to work with. You were on your hands and knees and they stood on their knees on either side of you, still squeezing and caressing every inch of skin they could touch.

They were big – huge even – it made you feel a bit nervous. They were easily 10", and who knows how thick, standing tall and proud. You gulped softly when Chris gripped your hip with one hand and led his length towards your aching pussy. The tip of his cock slid up and down your slit, making you whine and push back against him.

They chuckled at your needy gestures and sounds, "you’re so responsive ma, ’s intoxicating," Chris emphasized his words with a slap on your ass, causing you to jolt and whine, his hand gently caressing the reddening skin.

Matt, being the one in front of you, caressed your cheek and made you look up at him by lifting your face by your jaw. Smirking when he saw the desperation in your eyes, "what’s up pretty? Can’t handle a little teasing?" He spoke with faux sympathy, making you all the more desperate.

Before you could open your mouth to speak, you felt the sudden stretch, causing you to move forward—trying to get away from the sensation, only to be held in place by two pairs of hands. Chris clicked his tongue, "relax ma," his hands squeezed your ass, sinking his fingers in your plush flesh as he moved forward, filling you completely.

"Oh fu—ck, Chris too big–" your moans got muffled when Matt fed you his length, groaning at the sensation of your mouth on him and the vibrations from your moans as Chris took you from behind.

Chris’ pupils dilated when he saw the way your ass recoiled against his hips with each deep and slow thrust, he gripped your hips tighter and surged forward with increasing fervor. The force of it pushed you forward, each thrust making you involuntarily deepthroat Matt, making them both groan at the pleasure.

Chris suddenly pulled out, and stood up, "I think I’ve got something nice." Matt chuckled when he understood what Chris implied and pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop. You looked at them confused, feeling empty and still aching with need.

A few minutes later, Chris came back with a vibrator and a bottle of lube in hand. You blinked rapidly as your gaze flickered between the brothers, making them chuckle, "don’t worry pretty, we’ll make you feel good, ’promise." Chris sat on the bed behind you, getting in position again.

"Alright ma, up," he playfully slapped your ass before helping you back in the position you were in moments ago, but this time you were facing Chris with Matt behind you. Your moans filled the room once again when Matt entered you, stretching you deliciously.

Your moans were quickly muffled by Chris’ cock, which you eagerly let in your mouth, and the pleasure was already bordering on too much. Your body tensed when you felt vibrations on your clit. Matt groaned loudly when he felt you clench around him like a vice, his hips picking up pace in response.

Your moans vibrated around Chris’ shaft, making him buck his hips faster, fucking your mouth as he gripped your hair in a makeshift ponytail. Your eyes rolled back briefly as Matt hit that spot deep within you, the one that made sparks dance behind your eyes, the one that made you moan louder.

The vibrations of the vibe increased, making your legs shake as you tried to ground yourself from the intense pleasure that you wondered if you could take any more of. That was when Matt held you by your waist and started to target a specific spot—your g-spot.

The feeling of him hitting your g-spot with such precision and the vibrator doing its job on your throbbing clit, made you squirm, trying to get away from the intensity of it all, but their hands kept you in place. With a loud muffled moan you squirted, unable to warn them due to Chris’ cock in your mouth. The brothers let out breathy chuckles when they saw the mess you were making, but didn’t stop nevertheless.

They followed you soon after, their releases filling up your holes. You couldn’t even keep yourself steady on your legs and arms anymore, it was all threatening to buckle under you any second.

Carefully, they laid you down, and seeing the wrecked state you were in just seemed to fuel their desires further. Their semi-hard lengths hardened once more as they gazed down at you. Your disheveled hair, the hickeys adorning your body, Matt’s release trickling out of you and Chris’ dripping down your chin.

Matt’s hand came up to caress your side, causing a breathy sigh to escape your lips, "you think you can go one more round pretty?" Chris chuckled softly, "mhm—ma, don’t think we can get enough of you, think you can take us both?"

"Both? like at the same time?" you whispered, your voice already hoarse from overuse. They nodded, chuckling as they helped you into a sitting position, "yeah, we’ve got lube, but it’s fine if you’re not up for it, pretty—" you cut him off, "well, I don’t mind, i mean... if it can fit that is..." your voice trailed off as you looked down at their laps.

"Don’t worry, ma, we’ll make it fit," is all you heard before they got in position. Matt laying with you on top of him and Chris behind you. The pop of the lube cap made your body shiver in anticipation, the mildly cold oil jolting every nerve as it ran down your slit, making you shudder.

Matt slowly pushed inside, eliciting a soft moan from you, and as you finally adjusted to his size, Chris nudged himself on your already full pussy. "Shh— ’s alright, pretty, just relax," Matt cooed from under you, his arms holding you in place as Chris entered you from behind. You squirmed under their touch, moaning loudly, and the stretch being too much, too big.

Chris grunted at the tightness as he pushed inside, stilling when he bottomed out inside you, "shit ma, so fuckin’ tight," he hissed through his teeth. Matt chuckled, his voice huskier, "yeah, you like how we stretch you, pretty? how fuckin’ big we are?" You could only mumble a "yes" that sounded more like a whimper.

They let you adjust to their sizes—the fullness and the stretch. Their hands caressed your body soothingly, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, and kissing your shoulders and neck.

You finally relaxed around them, moaning softly at the sudden pang of pleasure from being filled to the brim. Your pleasure didn’t go unnoticed by Matt and Chris, chuckling to themselves as they started to move. Your world blurred as you felt an immense pleasure you’ve never felt before.

Your body moved on its own, meeting their thrusts, wanting more of that delicious feeling. And all that only made them move faster – harder – thrusting into you with renewed fervor. Your hands clutched whatever you could hold, grounding yourself so you wouldn’t get consumed by the pleasure.

"Fu—ck pretty, so fuckin’ tight," Chris mumbled an agreement, both of them holding you in place as they took what they wanted. You could only hold on, and moan for them. "Shit, gonna fill you up so good— swell you with my cum, ma," Chris groaned, "Yeah, fuck— you ready for us pretty?" Matt added, muffling his sounds of pleasure on your shoulder.

You mumbled a plea for them to cum inside you—to which they gladly did, groaning and moaning as they filled you up. Their combined release spilled out from the sides, making a mess.

Gently pulling out from your well-used hole, their chests heaved with exertion. In spite of their softening cocks, they couldn’t help the feral, almost animalistic, feeling when they saw the sight of their mixed release trickling out of your pussy.

They both groaned under their breaths before exchanging knowing glances, a silent conversation between them, and slowly alerting you about their insatiable desires for you. "You okay, pretty?" Matt’s hand caressed your cheek while Chris squeezed your ass, "we’re not done with you ma, not by a long shot."

They chuckled as they saw you look at them surprised, but didn’t protest or say no, instead pulled them closer – a silent plea for more. "We’re gonna fuck this pussy so good," Matt whispered in your ear, "and fill you up with our spend until you swell with our babies," Chris added, whispering in your other ear.

Their words were filled with promises, and that alone made you feel immense pleasure, a need for more.

The next morning, you woke up with a bad headache, and sore all over. It wasn’t a surprise that you had a hangover but it was a surprise when you became aware of your surroundings. You were in an unknown room, entangled with not one, but two guys. It didn’t help that they were brothers, identical brothers.

"Heard they got a bro code or whatnot, like they wouldn’t hit the same girl." Your friend’s words echoed in your head. Guess it wasn’t true after all, their bro code.

𓆩♡𓆪

wc. 3,086

Isa's notes. I've never written a Chratt fic before, or anything with two love interests, or a threesome in that matter so like... my bad if it's shit.

xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪

© sweetshuga

[vanilleandclove]

how to disappear; jack abbot x f!trauma surgeon!reader

pittsburgh is roughly 58 square miles, large hospitals in metropolitans are usually 1.2 million square feet. only making ptmc extremely confining with a certain trauma surgeon and senior attending physician in the emergency room especially during hostility.

warnings: emotionally constipated adults, language, talks of children and marriage, semi-medical accuracies (i have several immediate family members in the medical field, this is basically in my regular lexicon), gore adjacent, mentions of past sex, age gap: reader is 30-33, jack is 47-49. word count: 4.1k notes: mdni. call me disorganized, my oc fic is on HOLD, until further notice :3. this is part one of two (?) ask/requests are open!

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“I thought you were working day shift?” Parker asked, your eyes blinked roughly as they adjusted to the bright light of the patient’s board, “What’re you doing stuck down here?”.

“They requested for me to have a change of schedule to be on-call, couldn’t say no to the generous pay raise” you responded, cocking your head slightly to meet eyes with Parker, “Plus night shift always gets the most carnage”.

“You’re sick, you know that?” Parker chuckled, fist meeting your shoulder playfully before she walked off. 

Clipping on your hospital ID was muscle memory, both Heather and Robby referred to as “overworker’s disease”, you saw it as being stuck in the place for several years at a time.

You needed a vacation, sweaty hot sex, vodka, or weed; or maybe just all of those in that order. Your eyes were glossed over from the eyedrops you have administered before leaving Jack’s house, they did good to conceal the hours of crying and bloodshot eyes. 

But Bridget saw through that puffiness and reoccurring sniffle that matched the pout of your lips, she knew you well like you were her own daughter. She knew your breathing patterns were shallow and uneven, the eyebags that became a more pigmented purple, the constant fiddling of your rings. 

She knew you needed a break, a break in bed where you could cry it out and come back renewed with extra hours of sleep and extra takeout. 

“Honey, are you okay?” Bridget inquired, taking off her glasses and tucking them in her scrub undershirt, “You seem out of it”.

Your eyes darted towards her and all you could give her was a nod as you became tight lipped, worried that if you unclench your jaw for a second you’d break. Nevertheless, Bridget smiled and rested her hand on yours, knowing all too well what happened to you. 

What Bridget saw was your hair blown out but tucked up a tortoiseshell claw clip for it to be out of your way. She saw manicured short french tip nails, residue of black eyeliner in your waterline, hints of matte red lipstick that must have been taken off in a rush as it made your lips look as if they were bleeding. She saw gold bracelets of all different textures and patterns, rings stacked beautifully and meticulously, necklaces that would accentuate cleavage with the right dress, diamond earrings that twinkled when moving under the LED lights. 

She saw a woman who had just got stood up. 

“Good evening everybody”.

And she just stumbled upon the reason. 

You closed your eyes and sighed under your breath. 

Luckily being a different specialty department, you weren’t required to be given the gist of speeches by the physicians and nurses. Some may say it due to surgeons being “above”, you say it’s because of different structures in departments- you can learn just as much during rounds in the emergency room as you would post-op, if not, you’ll learn more. Therefore you were able to walk off into the bathroom.

You enjoyed your job, you were grateful for your job that led you to places you never thought you would be. You were grateful for the smiles, the laughter, the songs the patient requested to be played during surgery, the parents or loved ones that would hug you tight, and yes, the gore and carnage. 

You were also grateful that it led you to Abbot. 23, you were fresh out of an internship in Massachusetts, then you wanted a change of scenery. By 26, frequent hookups at your respective places were a casual way to start, end, and continue a week; just in time for your residency to finish and your fellowship to be fast-tracked due your rotations in the emergency department and competency exams. Hookups turned to dating by your 27th birthday, months later, Jack’s house was basically yours too. Now, you’re the attending who’s trying her hardest to hold it all in because a man decided no more to the most constant thing in your chaotic life- in a chaotic profession. 

You had put on a silk dress that flowed perfectly enough to accentuate your curves, you wore lingerie, black heels, and smelt fucking amazing. You shaved, you wore your expensive lotion you could only justify using on special occasions, you wore jewelry you’ve collected over the years and that Jack had given you. You went the whole 9 yards and more. 

“Okay so what is it?” you asked, sighing in defeat and barefooted in the living room, “You don’t want to go out, don’t want to talk about something you know I care about. Fuck Jack, you don’t even look at me when you know this is important”. 

“Sorry I didn’t know dinner reservations were imperative to having a conversation with you” Jack scoffed, stressed and unnerved, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Jesus christ just forget about dinner!” you raised your voice, your throat began to slowly burn, “I don’t care about dinner Jack. I care about being appreciated from my boyfriend when I put on a fucking dress and heels. I care about you walking into that door every morning and kissing me. I care about having sex and ordering fucking pizza” you ranted, your time was almost up as it crept closer to your shift.

“Do you want kids?” he blurted.

“What?”.

“Do. you. want kids?”.

You blinked in confusion, swallowing whatever you had planned to say and again to collect what he had just proposed. “I would like to have kids but with my job and yours, that seems unlikely. I don’t mind not having them”. 

“There was a positive test in the trash two weeks ago that you didn’t think to tell me about” he cleared his throat. 

Your brows furrowed, “It was a false positive, Heather did a work up with full labs for me” you looked to the ground not noting that it would’ve also been nice for him to know both of those things. “If a pregnancy test is sending you to avoid me like the plague; we have a bigger issue here Jack”. 

“It would’ve been nice to know that you were afraid you were pregnant that you told Collins before me”. 

“Do you think I’m punishing you for withholding information that was irrelevant to me after a day?” you were shocked almost, still confused at the hostility, “I wasn’t afraid of being pregnant, I was afraid of false hope”.

“I don’t want kids, that’s just not something I see in my future”.

“Our future” your voice began to crack more and more. Kids weren’t a dealbreaker by any means, the way Jack worded it to be something exclusionary in regards to you is what broke you. “I need you to tell me if this is what’s causing you fucking hurt me”. 

“It’s not- I just think we have a misconstrued view on the future of this” he pointed to both of you back and forth. 

“Jack forget about the sheer possibility of kids, why are you being distant?” you took a step closer as he took a step back, the action only shattering your heart more, the tears began to flow as you straightened your back, “What about marriage?”.

“Same as kids”.

You nodded, looking away from him, “I’m not going to change your opinions about either of those, I’m not going to try”. You inhaled before a sob erupted from your throat, “I have to be able to want those things without feeling like you’re going to walk away. God, you never once spoke about this before so why now? Why all of the sudden vows and kids are a dealbreaker when- if I remember this correctly- the past year you’ve been asking for baby names and what rings I would like? Was it just for show? Was I just for show?”.

“Of course you weren't,” he sighed yet again, his eyes piercing yours, “You’re you, I guarantee you’ll find someone else who wants both of those”. 

“I don’t want someone else Jack” you whispered, one tone louder and you’ll be a wreck in front of him. 

Silence creeped over the room and nothing but the shudder of your breath filled the room, “I guess this isn’t working” his own voice cracked as if his mind betrayed his actions. With that, years of your heart shattered.

“I guess not”. 

Jack was the same guy who held your legs as they rested on his during football games. The guy who tied the strings of dresses and kissed your shoulder, who stared in awe while you did your makeup, baked and cooked with you, danced to his best effort with you. Watched ‘Game of Thrones’ and ‘House of the Dragon’ with you every sunday without fail, not shy of commentary. 

He would fix your hair after sex, clean you up in the en-suite with warm water, would make your toes curl around his waist as an orgasm washed over you, would coax another orgasm out of you. He would massage your clit, knew exactly where your g-spot sat, made your breath hitch and your eyes roll back. He never pressured, only asked a near sixty times if you were okay and comfortable. He would never degrade you even if asked, the most he’d do would be spitting in your mouth and lightly choking you. Wasn’t shy about having his dog tags pulled or you wearing them, loved the twinkle in your eye every time his cock grazed the right spot. The man was a dog. If you forgot an undershirt under your scrubs, his cock would strain from the veins coating your breasts, the slightest graze would send him on a frenzy when you’d get home if both of you were up for it, loved the lingerie just as much as he loved you in pajamas and a worn out shirt from college. 

The same guy that would squeeze the back of your neck to relieve your worries, text you mid-shift about your wedgie and would fix said wedgie in passing, would wash your hair and body. Would watch every movie and TV show with a thousand questions, stare idly at you during every get-together as you mingled on your own with Heather. Every Fourth of July he spent with you, he was at ease, not jumpy or had his heart racing- you thanked therapy, he thanked you. 

He’d stand in front of you and be the same guy during company basketball and baseball games that coached you on the sidelines, guided your arm, gave you water. You wanted to marry him, your parents always said when you do get married, it should be with someone like him if not him. You wanted rings, his and her matching towels, garter tosses and to take off his suit in the same night. He knew that, hell the whole emergency department was well aware of your dream wedding that changed every now and then.

Now you stand there beneath yourself because that is all gone on a random Wednesday. Didn’t wait for the weekend for it to settle, for hell to freeze over. While you went crazy thinking the worst, you had a job to do, and it was barely August. 

Luckily, new staff and medical students were reserved for day shift, meaning you were secretly praying for both Robby and Collins sake. 

“We have a male MVC victim, 10 minutes out, Abbot wanted you on standby” Parker opened the bathroom door only to be greeted with your meltdown, “You okay? Want water or coffee?”.

You shook your head only for her to fully allow herself in, “You and I both know the way you’re crying is going to lead you to dehydrate” she continued, “What happened?”.

“We broke up” you responded, curt and without remorse, “I don’t want to talk about it”.

“Okay, but just know you can always go home”. 

“He’s home”.

You spent two minutes in there trying to gain your composure, worried that the MVC wouldn’t get the most accurate and resourceful amount of care with you like this. Splashing water against your face before exiting and being greeted with the beaming emergency department lights. 

You checked up on three different patients, smiling and asking if they were comfortable and okay with waiting just in case the MVC took up more time than usual. As you left the last, the MVC arrived and both you and Abbot occupied opposite sides of the gurney. 

The EMTs were able to stabilize him as much as they could, “Breath sounds are good so far a little too crackly but acceptable, there’s rigidity in his abdomen I need an chest scan to confirm bruising- I’ll call they always fast track me” you told Jack as you approached the trauma room, grabbing the phone as he took over, “Hey it’s Doctor L/n, I need a chest CT for a MVC victim, his abdomen is rigid and slightly distended with crackly breathing. No- I need you to take me up now, we’re already in a trauma room- okay, thank you see you there”. 

Turning back to Jack, evening out the creases in your navy scrubs, “They’ll take him now, I’ll take him up” you whispered, grabbing a hold of the gurney from the bottom, “Can you open the doors?” you asked, “Get Walsh for me too, if it’s something with his abdomen I shouldn’t do exploratory”. 

“You don’t only do exploratory surgery Y/n” Jack posed the statement as if you were undermining yourself for Walsh to be the scalpel junkie this shift.

“I know, Walsh is still learning the ways of being an attending, if anything I’m making sure she’s equipped to be in my stead when I’m not here” you argued back only for the MVC victim to regain his consciousness, “I know what I’m doing Doctor Abbot”.

“This morning it was babe, by the afternoon it was Jack, now it’s Doctor Abbot?” he queried, as if the whole ‘I guess this isn’t working’ bit was a skit. 

“Last time I checked this wasn’t-“ you looked down to the gurney to see a conscious man with a smile on his face, “Good evening sir, I’m Doctor L/n, you’re at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, I will be taking you up to CT now” you feigned a smile and eyed Jack, he knew that look.

The ‘we’ll talk about it later’ look. 

“You’re in good hands sir” Jack waved off. 

The elevator ride was calming, the tension in the trauma was thick enough to cut with a knife. You learned his name was Raymond Orser, he had a wife and a daughter, served a couple tours in the military, his sister lived in Pittsburgh while he lived in Philly. 

“So, what was the deal between you and salt and pepper?” Raymond asked, his breathing less labored as you both exited out of the elevator.

“Salt and pepper? Doctor Abbot?”.

“Or babe whichever you prefer” Raymomd joked, “Must’ve been a tough fight, my wife and I were the poster board for marital arguments about silly things- one time after my daughter was born we argued about the way the cereal box closed”. 

“He’s not my husband Mr. Orser, technically he’s just a colleague” you told him. Eyeing around you to see who was there, “We dated for 6 years today, it’s our anniversary, was supposed to wine and dine him before our shift but…”.

“Ah. You know, I’m only 39. I’ve spent a great deal of it loving my wife before I had even met her." You made a face that exuded confusion, “I know you’re looking at me crazy, but you just know. When’d you meet Doctor Abbot?”.

“When I was 23, about to be 24, he was also relatively new; he beat me by 3 years. Didn’t start dating until I was 27 and he was 41” you confessed, “What about you huh? How old is your daughter?”.

“She’s seven, had her after I got discharged. My wife and I had a shotgun wedding, very intimate”.

“Okay, we are just about to go into CT, I’ll be on the imaging side, you’re going to feel a little fluid in your IV, it’s to highlight and pinpoint what’s going on internally. I need to know if there’s any metal on you like jewelry below or above the waistline”.

“No, just my wedding ring”.

“That’s fine, this arm is going to stay up away from the imaging zone for the ‘highlighting fluid’, you’re going to feel a bit warm throughout your body, completely normal. If you feel nauseated it’s also pretty normal, we keep a wastebasket on standby so no worries” you clarified, giving him a smile before handing him off to the nurses. 

Going into the radiology room, both the radiologist and technician glanced over to you, “Good evening” you greeted, “His abdomen was rigid and slightly distended, did Foreman tell either of you?”.

They both nodded, putting on their glasses and administering the contrast fluid. “Any plans for the morning L/n? You and Abbot are celebrating your anniversary today, no?” Jackie the radiologist asked, her hand not leaving the mouse and her eyes leaving the desktop.

You shuddered under your breath, inhaling deeply, “Yeah, might just stay in today”.

As the scans progressed one thing became clearer, there was a bleed in Raymond’s organs, non-septic, but still worrisome. You immediately grabbed the intercom mic, “Okay Ray, the nurses are going to get you settled back downstairs for a work up, I’ll go over your scans with Doctor Abbot”.

Turning to the left you grabbed the phone on the desk and dialed for the emergency department, “Hi Bridget, I’m sending Orser down, the MVC victim. He has a rib fracture that's causing internal bleeding, a tension pneumo but his breathing sounds were clear- lightly shallow” you cleared your throat, “Tell Abbot to do a finger thoracostomy, I’ll meet him down there”.

Afterwards you phoned the surgical wing, “Good evening, I need an OR available on standby, I have a MVC victim with a tension pneumothorax and internal bleeding”.

Some days cardio and general hogged the ORs, trauma and the emergency department always had an OR prepped in the morning shifts. Gloria liked to boast about her surgical teams, how each specialty had their own set OR.

Heading down to the emergency room, it was less chaotic on the surface- the waiting room said otherwise. Every room was filled minus the trauma rooms, the hallway had spillover, and curtains were drawn. You decided to take your leave to peds, being greeted with a little girl with a rattling cough.

“Good evening, I’m Doctor L/n, who is this princess?” you greeted, snapping on your gloves.

“Your scrubs are different” the girl mentioned mid cough.

“Sorry, this is Amanda, she’s been having this ugly cough for two weeks, she woke up choking on phlegm” a woman spoke up, “I’m her aunt, her mom’s on her way”.

“Ah okay, well, Amanda, my scrubs are different because I’m a surgeon here. Don’t worry, you’re not a surgical case, I just help down here” you clarified, putting your stethoscope on her chest, “Did she cough up phlegm, if so what color?”.

“It was brown, though in the car she had a cough attack and I swear I saw red”. 

“Any history of asthma? Was she around any strong fumes?” you asked, “Amanda can you give me two big inhales and exhales?” you requested, putting your stethoscope on the girl’s back. As she inhaled and exhaled, all you heard was rattling.

“My sister- her mom has asthma, nothing too serious, she self carries though. Mandy got sick last week, her fever was moderate but she sweated a lot of it off during her sleep”. 

You nodded, putting your stethoscope back around your neck, “I’m going to order a chest x-ray, from the sounds of it, Mandy here has acute bronchitis, probably from a viral infection that went unnoticed” you smiled to them both, “Is she allergic to paracetamol or ibuprofen?”.

“No, just soy”.

“Perfect, due to her age, I’ll prescribe extra strength Tylenol and an albuterol inhaler, two puffs about 5 seconds apart when needed to stabilize your lungs sweetie” you told her aunt, walking out to tell Bridget for an x-ray on Amanda. 

“Abbot’s asking for you in south 14” Bridget said as you walked off, all you gave was a nod.

Opening the door and being met with a scene you would not have guessed to stumble upon out of the confines of your home. “Bridget said you wanted to see me?”.

“I’m not a prideful man” he sighed, you moved closer to the hospital bed he sat on, his prosthetic beside him, he was rubbing a cream on his stump- it smelt like eucalyptus. Jack never complained of phantom limb pain, though his hip would hurt every now and then. “But I do know that I am self-conscious”.

You remained silent, allowing Jack to speak. You did most of the talking earlier, now, it’s his turn. “I don’t know if I’ll be a good dad, weddings require some level of dancing that I just can’t put aside that difference to give to you- and I want to, I can’t shake that feeling” he sucked in a deep breath, “There are days where I have coax myself off the ledge, today being one of them”.

“Jack I-” you sighed in disbelief, “I don’t care about those things- ever- you’re not taking away anything by us not having kids or not getting married-”.

“You want those things”.

“There was a point in my life where I wanted you, one thing I know for certain, I never regretted it. Though I would’ve regretted not doing anything, you gave me the best sex of my life” you joked lightly, “If loving you and being with you means I don’t get a wedding or kids, then I’m okay with that. Though, you would be one hell of dilf”.

He chuckled at the comment, “Shit, I’d be in my 60s by the time the kid was in high school”. 

“Still my sexy man” you commented, “I love you okay? But we have a job to get to and a vet who is keen on you”.

“Orser?” Jack questioned as he stood up with your assistance, popping his prosthetic back into place. You nodded, giving him a longing look, “I can’t kiss you- wouldn’t be able to stop”.

“Yeah yeah, happy anniversary cowboy” you smiled, feeling your phone vibrate with a page to the OR, “Shit, emergency surgery”.

“I love you cowgirl” Jack spoke up as you ran off. It was already 4:30 in the morning, the heat kept piling up. 

The surgery was needed for a thoracotomy on a 67 year old who took a fall down her stairs which caused a cardiac tamponade, it took 2 hours and 40 minutes to repair, drain and control her hemorrhage. Caught early, it took less time than usual. You reeked of pungent acid with a hint of metal from the blood, afraid it was stuck in your hair.

Luckily your shift was over 10 minutes ago, you gathered your things and looked around for Jack, being greeted with Heather and Frank.

“Dana, have you seen Jack? Good morning to you all” you stretched, looking around to see no sight of Jack or Robby.

“Up on the roof with Robby”.

“Jesus, the midlife crisis twins” Frank joked under his breath, only to be met with the dirty looks of you and Heather.

“When he comes down tell him I’m in the truck” you sighed, tapping on the desk before letting your hair down from the clip that has held up your hair through blood and way too many body fluids.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[st7rnioioss]

INTRODUCING... BEST FRIEND!CHRIS x INEXPERIENCED!READER ۶ৎ

— a bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader moodboard

INEXPERIENCED!READER... who's been friends with chris since birth. your mom is best friends with chris's mom, and coincidentally enough, they both had kids at the same time. even though chris has three brothers, you always went to him, rather than anyone else—being neighbors was also a huge plus. if you got in a fight with your mom or dad, you bet chris is there to comfort you whenever you knock on his door.

INEXPERIENCED!READER... who always received snarky comments from girls throughout high school. they always put her down or asked if she was dating chris, some even going as far as bullying her, telling her she wasn't pretty enough for him—he is fairly attractive, there's no denying that. but what they didn't understand, is that you’re just friends... right?

INEXPERIENCED!READER... whos high school experience definitely affected her social life. she was always too shy to ask out any guys she found remotely attractive, and most of them assumed she was dating chris anyway from all the gossip anyway. and on top of that, she liked to keep her tight-knit friends close. whenever she wasn't hanging onto chris, it was matt. and if it wasn't matt, it was nick. and if it was neither of them, which it rarely was, it was her few girlfriends.

INEXPERIENCED!READER... who always avoids the talk of relationships, kissing, crushes- all that jazz. you’re aware chris has had a girlfriend once or twice, and you didn't mind at all. yet, sometimes you felt that pit in her stomach, almost aching to have that close of a relationship with someone that wasn't just best friends since birth. or was it really just jealousy you felt?

BEST FRIEND!CHRIS... who is best, best friends with you. sure, chris has his brothers, nate, and a few other friends, but he's always prioritizing you. and he didn't care that some of his friends thought he was your biggest admirer, always asking when he'd finally get to his senses and ask you out, when really that was his biggest struggle.

BEST FRIEND!CHRIS... who really is a lovestruck idiot. he's completely wrapped around your finger, always helping you out with literally anything, helping you stand up for yourself whenever someone gets too nosy in your friendship, always the first one to help you out with homework, though he barely got the hang of it.

BEST FRIEND!CHRIS... who didn’t stay with his girlfriend for too long. it could get a little messy at times when he wanted to hang out with you more and had to cancel a date. yes, he loved his girlfriend, but his sick and twisted mind always drifted toward you whenever she kissed him. how stupid of him to think that getting a girlfriend would get his mind off of you. in reality, he tried to fill that pit in his chest he felt whenever he knew that you guys weren't more than friends, which only turned out to ruin his relationship completely. that friday he stayed in your bed all weekend, which obviously was because he needed the comfort after a toxic breakup... right?

BEST FRIEND!CHRIS... who always kept his feelings for you a secret. he’d been so, so sure he would never tell you, too nervous that he’d scare you off and ruin your perfect friendship, and lose his best friend since diapers. instead, he just tried to act normal around you, though he was dying to just pull you in for a kiss.

MASTERLIST

۶ৎ when best friend!chris can’t keep his hands and mind off inexperienced!reader 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ inexperienced!reader giving bsf!chris head for the first time 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ bsf!chris guiding inexperienced!reader how to ride 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ bsf!chris being not-so-subtle when putting sunscreen on inexperienced!reader 𓂃 ֹ genre,,fluff + suggestive

۶ৎ bsf!chris teaching inexperienced!reader how to finger herself, but he can't seem to hold back 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ bsf!chris wanting inexperienced!reader to sit on his face 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ the types of videos bsf!chris sends inexperienced!reader 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ bsf!chris taking inexperienced!readers virginity 𓂃 ֹ genre,,fluffy smut

۶ৎ bsf!chris x girly!reader history/lore post 𓂃 ֹ genre,,fluff+very light angst

۶ৎ bsf!chris and inexperienced!reader's kinks 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ "all yours” - when inexperienced!reader is scared bsf!chris is cheating 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ bsf!chris helps inexperienced!reader out with the ache between her legs 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ inexperienced!reader cockwarms bsf!chris for the first time 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: he's a little sick and twisted but ohhhh he's in love!!!!

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @forgottxen @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @strnsvhx

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[see-arcane]

Welcome to Dracula Season 2025!

We're only a few weeks shy of May and our journey with Jonathan into the Carpathians. As we prepare for another helping of paprika hendl and ensuing horror, let's refresh with some of the Dracula-adjacent goodies that have accumulated over the last year...

1. Dracula Daily

The Substack that started it all. Dracula Daily was started by Matt Kirkland in 2021, though it took off in the Tumblr book club in 2022. Since then, we’ve turned Dracula Season, the period between May 3 and November 7, into a months-long undead extravaganza of memes, literary analysis, and overdue love for Bram Stoker’s novel, Dracula as the fantastic gothic gift it is. With the simplified format of putting the book’s entries in chronological order, each one emailed out on the same date they were written, we’re forced to live on the same calendar and waiting game as the characters. Whether you’re a new reader or a returning bookworm, welcome to Castle Dracula!

Dracula Daily Substack: Link

2. The Holmwood Foundation

Fresh from crowdfunding and wrapping up production of its first season, The Holmwood Foundation, @theholmwoodfoundation on Tumblr, is an indie podcast coming around the corner with a genuinely unique take on a supernatural sequel to the events of Dracula…which didn’t end quite how Bram Stoker’s in-universe novel depicted. The first episode is out, featuring a pair of unlucky archivists—what horror podcast is complete without them?—the ghosts of Jonathan and Mina Harker, Dracula’s severed head, and a hiking trip across the moors to escape some shambling undead horrors. Give the preview and its miscellaneous teasers a listen if you want a taste of contemporary revenant scares (and to listen to the world’s most irate descendant of the Harkers pop a blood vessel).

The Holmwood Foundation homepage: Link

Podcast episodes and side content: Link

3. Dracula: 2004

Another indie audio drama trying to crowdfund its way out of the coffin! Not only an adaptation of Dracula, but one set just a short step into the 21st century, @starstrider-productions' Dracula: 2004 wants to tell the story of our beloved Victorian vampire targets-turned-slayers in an era of flip phones, Dictaphones, and found footage-tinted horror. To judge by the summary and extremely promising character bios for our refreshed cast, it’s going to be a one-of-a-kind listen. But only if we can get them to their goal! By the time I post this, they’ll have less than 20 days left to cover the production cost.

If you want to drag this beautiful undead carcass into the moonlight, please chip into their campaign if you can and share it with your fellow Dracula lovers and horror podcast enthusiasts! The smallest tier is £10 GBP, ($13 for my fellow ‘murricans), and every bit helps.  

Indiegogo crowdfunding page: Link

4. Re: Dracula, Re: Carmilla, (Coming Soon: Re: Frankenstein!)

Giving an undead rebirth to the original Dracula Daily format, the podcast Re: Dracula turns the same chronological date-by-date read of the novel an audio drama twist. It’s made of professional voice acting, soundscaping, and has its own soundtrack! This thing is also replete with many a meme and interview as the garlic garnish on top. Give it a listen if you haven’t already and check out their Tumblr, @re-dracula.

Likewise, you need to check out their most recent projects. Re: Carmilla, which gives Sheridan le Fanu’s Carmilla its own supple and sinuous sapphic treatment, and the upcoming Re: Frankenstein, currently on the hunt for voice actors to fill the roles of Mary Shelley’s gothic opus, Frankenstein. Everyone say thank you to this cast and crew for feeding us the overdue classic supernatural theatre feast we’ve been waiting on for actual centuries.

Re: Dracula: Link

Re: Carmilla: Link

Re: Frankenstein (Casting Call!): Link

5. The League of Extraordinary Gentlefolk

You want the Drac Attack Pack (plus a surviving Quincey Morris) with the Harkers happily married and questionably human? You want Irene Norton née Adler treated with respect and allowed to actually have her chosen romance with Godfrey Norton that was half the damn point of “A Scandal in Bohemia,” along with appearances from a certain consulting detective and his doctorial companion? You want Dr. Jekyll as an upstanding scientist on the brink of some unsavory new changes? You want Wells’ Invisible Man being cantankerous and developing friendships against his will? You want sundry forces of mortal and supernatural peril roiling up from under the foundations of Victorian era literature like an eerie eldritch smoke? Then The League of Extraordinary Gentlefolk is the comic for you!

An ongoing webcomic, fresh from its second story arc—a certain submarine, a bastard of a marksman, and an uncanny gothic villainess are involved—LXGF brings together a huge crossover cast of everyone’s favorite characters from the Classics section. Started by the amazing @mayhemchicken and posted on @lxgentlefolkcomic, this series is a love letter to beloved Victorian era lit that actually understands, acknowledges, and loves the books and their canons! What a concept! Alan.

Tumblr: Link

Comic: Link

Non-Canon Silliness: Link

Fanfiction: Link

6. Blood of My Blood (and Other Gorgeous Gothic Dramas of the Ibrithir-Was-Here Universe)

 I’ve made a lot of amazing friends since Dracula Season became my favorite time of the year (read: most of it). Many of those friends have been brain-meltingly talented and creative in the works they’ve made based in or inspired by Dracula and adjacent works. But one of the best in terms of artful storytelling has to be @ibrithir-was-here.

Me and other scribblers and spit-ballers tripped and fell into what began as a dark Dracula Bad Ending improv, everyone chasing after each other with ‘Yes, and—,’ additions to a vampiric domestic horror story. That’s turned into a full 100+ chapter tale with its concluding climax just now about to hit its zenith. That story is Blood of My Blood, an incredibly fun and fiendish gothic what-if? One in which we answer the questions:

What if things took a grim turn in the climax at Transylvania? What if half our heroes died and Mina turned, with a child already growing in her undead womb? What if Jonathan threw himself on the twisted ‘mercy’ of Dracula to protect his family, trading his servitude, sanity, blood, and participation in an intimately worrying series of mind games with his new master? What if young Quincey Harker was raised in this warped castle and then, at the cusp of manhood, was sent out into the world to learn the buried truths of his family? What if Dracula was none too thrilled about his adopted heir leaving the nest, and took grisly measures to bring him back..?

The answers have been written and lushly illustrated for the past year and change, ripe with romances, revenges, bloodshed, and one of the most gloriously fucked up family dynamics you’ve ever seen in a gothic drama.

…And if you’re in the mood for another flavor of the latter, Ibrithir has also cooked up a pile of sinister samples to indulge in.

(n)Ever Loved, a take on the origins of the ‘Weird Sisters’ before they were munching kids meals.

The Wretched Family, an AU in which Frankenstein’s Creature saved the little girl from the river a moment too late, and coerces Victor into reviving her drowned body as a Creature like himself.

A Cruel Love, giving a spotlight to a possible history of Countess Mircalla and how love played a part in her undeath and the demise of her first smitten paramour.

Second Stanza, a certain Opera Ghost returns to haunt Christine and Raoul’s son, supposedly as a guardian—whether the boy likes it or not.

Rosemary is for Remembrance, in which a young artist grapples with the bloody shadow of a man who shares her face. A long dead hedonist by the name of Dorian Gray…

Go give them all a read!

Blood of My Blood: Link

(n)Ever Loved: Link

The Wretched Family: Link 1, Link 2

A Cruel Love: Link 1, Link 2

Second Stanza: Link

Rosemary is for Remembrance: Link

7. Dracula’s Guest the Comic

Want a glimpse of what Jonathan Harker may have gotten up to prior to reaching Castle Dracula? Well, take a look at the comic adaptation of Stoker’s, “Dracula Guest,” by @isablooo! It features our good friend Mr. Harker, some sightseeing, and more than the usual bloodsuckers out for his neck.

Comic: Link

8. Dracula Beyond Stoker Press

Have you ever thought to yourself, “I wish I had an anthology dedicated entirely to stories about one or more specific characters of Dracula?” Me too! And Dracula Beyond Stoker Press is here to deliver. Their most recent issue coming out is about our good friend Jonathan Harker—already preordered my copy!—with Mina Harker’s issue accepting story and cover art submissions starting May 1, 2025. DBS Press already has an amazing store full of paperback zines and merch to go through for other characters and general Dracula-flavored goodies. Go give them and the submission guidelines a gander.   

Dracula Beyond Stoker Press: Link

9. Harker (and Other Arcane Horrors)

Harker is my work-in-progress, a novel expanding on the experiences of Jonathan Harker which we never get to see between his and the others’ journal entries in Dracula. It also adds some creative and menacing fleshing out for just how and why Jonathan Harker changed on October 3rd—and perhaps explains what exactly he changed into.

As of now, I am well over twenty chapters in, with over 750 pages written. In the draft, Mina is only just now about to read Jonathan’s journal for the first time. This thing is massive. And I’ve been releasing preview chapters since last Dracula Season! The latest of which is due to drop very soon.

Until then, there’s also an abundance of other horrors I’ve scribbled up in the interim. Some serial, some self-contained, and one in the form of a published novella, The Vampyres, which concerns some undead bastards of classic lit caught under the blade of a very practiced psychopomp. There are a couple preview chapters up to skim too!

Hope you enjoy the read.

Harker (Tumblr): Link

Harker (Substack): Link

Substack (General): Link

The Vampyres: eBook Paperback

[REDACTED – Surprise en route April 18th]

10. What Manner of Man (and Another Gothic Queer Nightmare)

@stjohnstarling has completed one tale of queer horror, romance, and erotica, and is hard at work on the next story. The first was What Manner of Man, a novel with some borrowed blood from Dracula and a wonderful twist on an intense relationship that forms between a priest and a vampire. This book is now completed on the Substack and as an eBook! His next work in progress: A Companion in Vice, building off the patchwork anatomy of Frankenstein.

What Manner of Man (Substack): Link

What Manner of Man (eBook): Link

A Companion in Vice (Summary): Link

11. Project Gutenberg

An online library of countless classic public domain works. Get on it, bookworms!

Dracula - Link

Carmilla - Link

Sheridan le Fanu collection - Link

12. The Internet Archive

As the name says, it’s an archive. It preserves damn near everything, including my favorite ballet…

Dracula Ballet by Michael Pink – Link

13. Romancing the Gothic - My Wild Heart Bleeds

Carmilla fans, storytellers, and scholars, this one is for you. My Wild Heart Bleeds is set to be an anthology dedicated entirely to Sheridan le Fanu’s Carmilla, including commentaries, original works, international and historic perspectives, discussions of adaptations and works inspired by the story… And you have the chance to contribute to it! Regarding submissions, the page says:

Abstracts of 3-400 words and a bio of 2-250 words should be sent to the editors Dr. Sam Hirst and Simon Bacon by June 30th 2025. Chapter of between 5-6000 words will be required by July 2026. We also welcome original creative pieces (artwork, short stories [up to 1,500 words], flash-fiction, poetry, etc) that are inspired by and/or critically engage with ‘Carmilla’ or themes mentioned above. Abstracts or queries should be set to: mywildheartbleeds@gmail.com

My Wild Heart Bleeds: Link

BONUS

@cry-ptidd – Blessed us with getting to see the Dracula cast in Hellsing style and showing us why Kohta Hirano didn’t dare to have them in the manga: The Harkers are simply too badass when canonical. (And the Suitors would be too stylish.)

@bluecatwriter – Expanding from Dracula fic to Carmilla fic. Smut abounds.

Poetry – For bonus gothic vampire reference material:

“Lenore” by Gottfried August Bürger, translated by Dante Gabriel Rossetti: Link

“Christabel” by Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Link

Libby the Library App (Sign Up! Support Your Libraries!) - Link

Dracula Season 2024

All the Dracula Season goodies compiled last year: Link

[ariestrxsh]

roughdom!bsf!matt x brattysub!bsf!reader

🎟 content warning: smut, oral (m!receiving), rough face fucking, praise/degradation, dacryphilia

🎟 summary: you and matt made a deal - he can cash in one favor from you, no questions asked, and all he wants is head

requested/inspired by this ask 🎟

dividers by @/miuthv

One Favor

"Do you remember that one time when you called me at three o'clock in the morning to pick you up an hour away because you were sleeping with that loser who had a girlfriend, and she found the two of you in bed together and kicked you out in the street half-naked?" Matt nonchalantly asked you without looking up from his game of Fortnite.

"Oh my god! Why would you literally ever bring that up!?" You exclaimed, feeling your cheeks grow hot as you reached over and playfully shoved Matt in his gaming chair, almost making him tip over. He chuckled at your reaction and swiveled around to face you.

"Because you owe me a favor, no questions asked," he replied as if it were obvious, slipping his headset off of one ear and making eye contact with you. "Does it count as a favor, no questions asked, if you literally know all the details?" You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you fiddled with the rip in your jeans.

"I got out of my warm bed to go get your ass without asking any questions until after I picked you up. Plus, it doesn't matter. You owe me. You said word-for-word, I owe you one, no questions asked," Matt said, repeating you, spinning back around in his chair back towards his game, "and I'm cashing it in."

Your demeanor shifted into a more serious one. "Why, Matt? You in trouble or something?" You wondered, wrinkling your eyebrows and tilting your head to the side. "Something like that, but you're not supposed to ask questions," Matt snarked back at you, tapping away on his controller.

"Well, there is one question you have to answer in order for me to agree to it," you replied smugly. "What?" Matt replied, staring blankly at you. "What's the favor? What do you want from me?" You wondered aloud.

A smirk played into the corner of his mouth. "Give me head?" He asked you without skipping a beat. Your jaw dropped, your eyebrows flew up, and you started blinking quickly as if you didn't make out what he'd said. "You heard me," he replied, wetting his lips as his blue eyes dropped to your own. "Wha-?" You started to say, but he cut you off, getting up from his chair and placing a finger to your lips.

"Ah, ah, ah. No questions asked."

"Fucking loser," you chuckled, slapping his hand away from your mouth. "You're seriously gonna blow your one favor, no questions asked, on a blow job? Don't you want to save it for like an emergency?" You furrowed your brow.

"Oh, this is an emergency. I've been fatally aroused lately," Matt told you in a serious tone as he took off his headset and plopped down next to you on his bed. You rolled your eyes, and you let out a chuckle, but your breath shallowed, and your heart raced at his request. You were getting undeniably turned on at the thought of going down on your best friend.

You and Matt had always been close, and nothing about the friendship had ever been overtly sexual besides a few flirty comments here and there, but you had to admit it to yourself - you had thought about him like that a few times, maybe indulged in some fantasies here and there. However, you couldn't admit that to him.

"What? Is it your first one?" You teased him. "Hey, no questions! But for the record, no," he shot back. "Why not just take care of it yourself?" You retorted, shifting around beside him and crossing your legs.

"Oh, c'mon. No amount of spit, lube, or lotion is going to make my hand feel like your mouth would. It's not the same," Matt responded, shrugging and giving you a pouty-lipped look that almost had a bit of desperation in it.

"You're stupid. For spending your one favor, no questions asked, on something so shallow. What are you gonna do when you need a real favor from me?" You replied in an arrogant tone, flirtatiously running your fingertips over his chest through his pink shirt before shoving him again. Matt picked up on the way your touches were almost combative earlier and how they'd moved in a more seductive direction.

"Is it your first one?" He teased you back, narrowing his eyes and flipping the interrogation around on you. "No," you smirked at him. "You any good at it?" Matt wondered aloud, his mind swirled with sinful thoughts about your mouth as he studied your glossy, plump lips. "Haven't had any complaints yet," you replied, leaning back on your hands on Matt's mattress as the two of you stared each other down.

The sexual tension in the air was thick, the temperature rising, and the magnetic energy between the two of you becoming indisputable. "In fact, I could give you the best head you've ever gotten," you boldly stated, leaning in and placing a hand on his knee as your gaze fell to his lips. His cock twitched at your confidence and the feeling of your fingertips running along the inseam of his jeans.

"Then why don't you stop running that pretty little mouth of yours and get on your knees and prove it?" He asked, his voice laced with lust, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he stood up and started to unbuckle his belt. You stared at him in disbelief, eyes widening. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words were caught in your throat.

"C'mon. Look how hard you got me. Braggin' about how good you are at givin' head," Matt told you in a low, raspy voice as he took your hand and placed it on his bulge. You licked your lips as your eyes fell to his crotch. It looked and felt so big straining against the denim fabric.

A look of desire flashed across your face, and Matt immediately recognized it. He decided to have a little fun with you. "Ah, you know what. Sorry I asked. You probably don't even know what you're doing anyways," Matt quietly responded to your silence, a smirk creeping into his expression as he ravished you with his hungry blue eyes. He dropped your hand and started to put his belt back on.

"Matt. Wait," you blurted out, falling to your knees in front of him. "I'm not shy. I'm just.. surprised," you admitted, raising an eyebrow. You pulled his belt out of his grasp and started undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. His gaze darkened as he watched you tug down the waistband of his underwear.

His cock sprung out, nearly hitting you in the face. You gently grasped his veiny shaft and started moving the skin back and forth at a painfully slow pace. You licked a long stripe from the base to his swollen tip while you held eye contact. You placed a tender kiss on the underside of his cock before repeating the motion a few more times.

He stared down at you expectantly. Each time you neared his pink tip, his chest would rise in anticipation, and each time you neglected it again, his chest would fall with a disappointed sigh. "C'mon. The fuck? You gonna put it in your mouth already?" Matt impatiently barked at you. You gave him a dismissive shrug, slowly and lightly fluttering your tongue over a bead of cum that was pearling at his slit.

He made a soft whimpering sound that embarrassed him, and he tried to play it off by clearing his throat and berating you. "Fuck. I ain't got all day, sweetheart," he said in a condescending tone, "I'll just ask one of your friends or your sister or somethin' if you can't even do it right."

You firmly squeezed his cock a little too tight, watching him wince in pain as you glared up at him. "You're gonna beg for head from me and then direct me on how to do it every step of the way?" You sneered back. Matt swallowed hard. "I don't beg," he replied, finding that part of what you said the only thing worth responding to.

"I would put it in my mouth, but it's just so small," you shot back, your lips curling into a devious smile, knowing this comment would rile him up. "Small? You fuckin' kidding me?" He snapped at you, talking through his teeth. He roughly grabbed your jaw with one hand and grabbed his length with the other, smearing a bit of his precum on your bottom lip.

"Open up, sweetheart," he ordered you. You did as he said. He slipped it into your mouth and peered down at you with a lustful glint in his eye. "Now show me what you've really got. No more playin' games," Matt huffed, placing a firm hand on the back of your head so you couldn't taunt him anymore.

What you didn't know is it had been months since Matt had gotten decent head, and he was fucking deperate for it, but he didn't want to admit it. He just wanted to use your mouth for a few minutes until he could get some sweet relief, and this was the wrong time for you to be teasing him so heavily.

You started gently bobbing your head up and down, sucking him in and hollowing your cheeks while you looked up at him. A guttural moan sounded from the boy standing above you as you slid down his cock, making his entire length disappear behind your lips. You made a soft sputtering sound as you took him so deep that the hem of his pink bear shirt tickled your nose.

"That's it. Choke on it like the little slut you are," Matt cooed, pulling his shirt up as he pumped his cock in and out of your mouth. His words went straight to your clit, causing it to throb. Your eyes began to well with tears as he triggered your gag reflex.

He took the hem of his shirt and held it between his teeth as he gazed down at the way your pretty lips looked wrapped around him. He placed both hands on either side of your head as he started rocking his hips back and forth faster. He groaned and pinched his eyebrows together as he relished in the way your throat felt.

Hot, mascara-stained tears were streaming down your face as Matt smiled down at you, admiring how beautiful you looked in your running makeup. "Oh, fuck," Matt groaned, releasing his shirt from between his teeth as he threw his head back and screwed his eyes shut. "So pretty when you're cryin' for me," he whispered to you, his knees growing weak.

His heartbeat and his breathing becoming irregular as he relished in the sounds of his cock plunging in and out of your mouth. "You have no idea.. how much.. I need this," Matt managed to say as he glanced back down at you, pistoning his cock even harder into the back of your throat as he tightly gripped your hair.

You found your hand traveling down the front of your jeans. You started toying with your clit, slowly rolling the sensitive nerves under the tips of your fingers, causing you to moan against his thickness as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. "So turned on suckin' my cock that you can't keep your hands out of your pants, hmm?" He purred.

You slightly shook your head no while your bruised lips were still stretched around him. "Naughty girl," he whispered, smiling down at you. He picked up the speed of his thrusts as he savored the sight of you before him. He could tell how much you loved being talked down to and used by him.

"It's like your mouth was made for me, huh? Always talkin' too much shit and not suckin' enough cock," Matt moaned through his breathlessness. Every degrading word that fell from his lips had you clenching around nothing, and every gagging sound you made as Matt pounded away had him nearing the edge.

"Be a good girl for me and swallow it all, huh?" Matt cooed, his cock twitching against your tongue. "Spitters are quitters. You're not a fuckin' quitter, are you?" Matt rasped at you, chasing his orgasm. "Nuh uh," you hummed around his cock, shaking your head, more tears rolling down your face.

"Good girl. That's what I thought," he praised you, delivering a few more powerful thrusts as his desperate moans filled the room. His core began to quake, the knot in his stomach threatening to snap. Beads of sweat started to roll down the sides of his face as he death gripped your hair, forcing his cock down your throat as far as it could go as it twitched inside of your mouth.

"Take it. Fuckin' take it all," he whimpered, hiking the hem of his shirt up again so he could get a clear view of the way your mouth looked stuffed full of his cock. His whole body trembled and his muscles tightened as hot ropes of his sticky cum squirted onto your tongue and down your throat. His orgasm had no mercy on him, hitting him hard and intensely, wave after wave of gratification washing over him.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he mumbled over and over, sounds of delight unfurling from his lips as he finished, sheer pleasure etched into his expression that you admired through your thick tears. You finally felt his muscles relax and his face soften as his long-awaited climax subsided.

"Holy shit. That was impressive," Matt sighed, trying to catch his breath. "I told you I'm a master at head," you smugly answered, wiping your tears. "No, I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about how impressive it was that I got myself off with your mouth while you hardly did anything," he huffed at you, rolling your eyes. "You were talking about yourself?" You scoffed, narrowing your eyes at him. He knew just what to say to piss you off.

"I mean, you did a really good job letting me use your mouth, sweetheart. I'll give you that," he said, lightly smacking your cheek with his hand a couple of times in a condescending manner, "but let's be real here - I did all the work."

[luvoverdose]

‘ 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 ‘ — 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

▏in which. Matt never expected to find his forever at a friend’s wedding, but fate had other plans.

contains. super cutesy fluff, swearing,

Matt and his family trudged through the biting cold, their thick layers offering little protection against the sharp, relentless wind. Snow crunched beneath their boots, and the occasional gust sent icy flurries stinging against their cheeks.

"Who even gets married in the middle of winter?" Nick muttered under his breath, casting a glance at his brothers as they neared the grand entrance of the venue. His tone was equal parts exasperated and incredulous, his breath clouding in the frosty air.

"Someone with a serious love for frostbite," Matt replied dryly, adjusting his scarf and pulling his coat tighter as another gust whipped past them. Behind them, their mother shot them a look that could freeze water midair.

"Behave yourselves," she said sharply. "It's a beautiful day, and you're not the ones getting married."

Nick snorted but kept his thoughts to himself as the family reached the door. A wave of warmth and the sound of muffled laughter spilled out, promising a stark contrast to the frigid outdoors.

Meanwhile, you were upstairs with your sister, the bride, trying your best to ignore the icy chill seeping through the old walls. The small space heater in the corner did little more than hum uselessly, and you rubbed your arms in a futile attempt to warm up.

"Is there any heat up here? Holy shit," you muttered, smoothing down your crimson silk dress, the fabric offering no protection against the cold. The deep red shimmered in the dim light, but all you could focus on was the goosebumps prickling your skin.

"We agreed on no complaining, remember?" your sister teased, her voice light and steady despite the chaos of the day. She turned back to the mirror, tilting her head slightly as she adjusted the delicate lace sleeves of her gown. "Plus, I think I’m ready."

She smiled softly, her reflection radiating that surreal bridal glow you’d only ever seen in movies. Grabbing her bouquet—an elegant arrangement of deep reds, creams, and greens—she turned to face you fully, her excitement bubbling just beneath the surface.

"You sure? No cold feet?" you asked with a wry grin, crossing your arms to fight the chill again.

Her smile widened, her eyes sparkling. "None. But if my toes fall off from this weather, you’re carrying me down the aisle."

Downstairs, the final details were falling into place as the ceremony began. The seating was elegant but simple, white chairs dusted with evergreen sprigs and soft candlelight casting a warm glow over the room. The cold outside was forgotten in the cozy ambiance, and soon, it was time for the bridal party to take their places.

You stood in line with the other bridesmaids, gripping your bouquet tightly, your crimson dress catching the flickering light with every slight movement. The music began to swell, and Justin, Matt’s older brother and your assigned escort for the walk down the aisle, gave you a charming grin as he offered his arm.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice calm but tinged with amusement.

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied, looping your arm through his, hoping your heels wouldn’t betray you.

The two of you glided down the aisle in sync, all eyes on the bridal party. Well, almost all.

From where he stood at the groomsmen’s line, Matt caught sight of you, and the air seemed to leave his lungs entirely. He’d seen pretty women before, sure—but this? You were magnetic. The way the silk hugged your figure, the soft waves of your hair, the confident set of your shoulders as you moved with Justin—it was all too much and yet not enough.

His thoughts spiraled somewhere he probably shouldn’t have let them go in the middle of a wedding. He cleared his throat and tried to focus, but his eyes kept wandering back to you. Every curve, every subtle sway of your hips—it all demanded his full attention.

“Eyes forward,” his younger brother nudged him, smirking.

Matt forced himself to stare straight ahead, but his thoughts were anything but innocent.

After the ceremony and the dreamy reception filled with laughter, dancing, and endless champagne, Matt found himself standing at the edge of the room, nursing a drink and stealing glances at you across the crowd. You were laughing at something Justin had said, your head tilting back in a way that made Matt’s chest tighten.

Screw it, he thought.

“Hey, Justin,” Matt said, stepping up to his brother, trying to sound casual. “Who’s your date?”

Justin’s brow arched, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. “Not my date. That’s Y/N, one of the bridesmaids. Why?”

Matt shrugged, though the heat rising to his neck betrayed his nonchalance. “Think you could introduce us?”

Justin laughed, clapping Matt on the shoulder. “Man, you’ve been staring at her all night. Took you long enough to ask. Come on.”

Matt followed Justin across the room, his pulse quickening with every step. The moment Justin tapped your shoulder and said, “Hey, there’s someone you’ve got to meet,” Matt swore he forgot how to breathe.

You turned at Justin’s voice, your curious smile still lingering from whatever joke he’d told you moments before. When your eyes landed on Matt, that smile didn’t just linger—it deepened, and Matt felt it like a punch to the chest.

“This is my brother, Matt,” Justin said casually, giving Matt a little shove forward. “He’s been dying to meet you all night.”

“Has he now?” you asked, your voice teasing but warm, your gaze locking onto Matt’s.

Matt chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not dying, exactly. Maybe… curious.”

“Curious, huh?” You tilted your head, your lips quirking into a playful grin. “Well, Matt, I’m Y/N. One of the bridesmaids, but I’m guessing you already knew that.”

Justin laughed, shaking his head. “And with that, my work here is done. Don’t blow it, Matt.” He clapped his brother on the back and walked off, leaving the two of you alone amidst the buzz of the reception.

Matt took a breath, trying to steady himself. “So… what do I say to someone who’s managed to distract me during an entire wedding ceremony?”

You raised a brow, your grin turning sly. “Is that your way of saying you were staring at me?”

He smirked, leaning slightly closer. “Guilty. But can you blame me? That dress is… dangerous.” His voice dipped, low enough to send a shiver up your spine.

“Oh, is that right?” you shot back, heat rising to your cheeks as you glanced away for a moment. “Careful, Matt, I might start thinking you’re trouble.”

He leaned in even closer, his voice dropping into a near-whisper. “And what if I am?”

Your breath caught for a second, but you refused to let him see you falter. You met his gaze head-on, a playful spark in your eyes. “Then I guess we’ll find out.”

The music shifted to a slower song, and Matt held out his hand without breaking eye contact. “Dance with me?”

You hesitated, just long enough to make him sweat a little, before finally slipping your hand into his. “Why not?”

The two of you moved to the dance floor, the world narrowing to just the two of you as Matt’s hand settled on your waist. His touch was warm, steady, and the way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the room—made your heart race.

“So, Matt,” you began, your voice light as you swayed to the music, “is this how you usually meet women at weddings?”

“Only the ones who make crimson look like a weapon,” he replied smoothly, earning a laugh from you.

As the night wore on, the conversation flowed as effortlessly as the dance, and by the end of the song, Matt knew one thing for certain: he wasn’t letting this be a one-time meeting.

The night carried on, the reception buzzing with laughter, music, and the kind of warmth that only weddings seemed to conjure. You found yourself mingling with family and friends, caught up in lighthearted conversations and the occasional glass of champagne. Every now and then, though, you’d catch Matt’s gaze across the room. He wasn’t subtle—each time your eyes met, a faint smile would tug at his lips, his eyes lingering just a beat too long.

It was after the cake cutting, when the crowd was thinning out on the dance floor, that Matt finally made his move. You were standing near the bar, swirling the last of your drink in your glass, when his voice broke through the din.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he said, leaning casually against the bar next to you.

You turned, your lips curving into a smirk. “Oh yeah? Stalking me now?”

“Not stalking,” he countered smoothly. “Just... gravitating.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you set your glass down. “Nice save.”

Matt grinned, his confidence growing with every second you stayed engaged. “So, how’s the night treating you?”

“It’s been fun,” you admitted. “Weddings have a way of making everything feel a little... magical.”

“Magical, huh?” He tilted his head, his eyes locking onto yours in a way that sent a flutter through your chest. “I’d agree. I think I got pretty lucky tonight.”

“Lucky how?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well,” he said, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken, “I met someone who completely stole my attention the moment I saw her. And now I’m trying to figure out how to make sure tonight isn’t the last time I see her.”

Your breath caught for a moment, his words catching you off guard. But you quickly recovered, your lips quirking into a sly smile. “You’re laying it on thick, huh?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, a soft laugh escaping him. “But I’m not lying.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider his words. “Alright, then. Let’s say I believe you. What’s your next move?”

Matt’s grin turned boyish, almost endearing. “I was hoping you’d make it easy on me and just give me your number.”

You blinked, surprised by his straightforwardness, but the sincerity in his eyes made you soften. “Just like that, huh?”

“Just like that,” he said, holding out his phone. “Unless you want me to beg, but I’ve got to warn you—I’m terrible at it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you took his phone. “Alright, Matt. You’ve earned it.”

As you typed in your number, you felt his eyes on you, the weight of his attention palpable. When you handed the phone back, your fingers brushed against his, sending a jolt of warmth through you.

“There,” you said, your voice light but tinged with a hint of challenge. “Don’t lose it.”

Matt slipped his phone into his pocket, his gaze never leaving yours. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t.”

For a moment, the noise of the reception faded, the two of you standing there like the only people in the room. And when you finally broke away to join the rest of the bridal party, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder—only to find Matt still watching you, his smile soft and undeniably hopeful.

A year later, the two of you sat on the couch in Matt’s apartment, a warm blanket draped over your legs as the soft glow of fairy lights lit the room. His arm rested around your shoulders, pulling you close while you balanced a photo album in your lap. The album was new, one you’d put together after months of sorting through photos from your sister’s wedding—the day that changed everything.

“That was such a good day,” you murmured, running your fingers over a photo of the bride and groom sharing their first dance.

Matt leaned over to peek at the page, his lips curving into a smile. “It was. Perfect weather, cold but perfect, great food, good music…” He paused, his voice dropping into that familiar playful tone. “And then there was this one bridesmaid who completely stole the show.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you flipped to the next page. “Oh, please. No one was looking at me when my sister was in that dress.”

“Wrong,” Matt said firmly, his voice soft but certain. He reached out, flipping the album back to a photo of you walking down the aisle with Justin. The crimson dress shimmered under the light, your smile radiant as you glanced at the crowd. “I couldn’t look away. You were the most stunning thing I’d ever seen.”

You felt your cheeks warm at the memory, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, pulling you closer, “but it’s true. I mean, come on, our whole story started there. If that’s not the definition of a meet-cute, I don’t know what is.”

You grinned, flipping to a photo of the two of you on the dance floor later that night. Your hand was resting on his chest, his head tilted down toward you as you laughed at something he’d said. The moment looked so natural, so effortless, that it was hard to believe it had only been hours after meeting him.

“It was kind of magical, wasn’t it?” you said softly, your fingers tracing the edge of the photo. “I mean, weddings are always special, but that one…”

“Was fate,” Matt finished for you, his voice playful but sincere.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Fate? Really? You’re going full rom-com on me now?”

“Hey, if the shoe fits,” he teased, brushing a kiss against your temple. “Think about it. If my brother hadn’t walked you down the aisle, if you hadn’t gone to the bar at the exact moment I worked up the courage to talk to you… it all just lined up.”

“Okay, maybe it was fate,” you conceded with a smile, tilting your head to look up at him. “But you were so smooth that night, Matt. I still can’t believe you just handed me your phone and asked for my number.”

“Hey, I knew what I wanted,” he said with a shrug, leaning back with a smug grin. “And clearly, it worked out pretty well for me.”

You rolled your eyes again, though your smile softened as you turned the page to the final photo—a candid shot of the two of you at the reception. You were standing outside the venue, your arms wrapped around each other, laughing at some forgotten joke while snow fell softly in the background.

“That was my favorite moment,” you admitted quietly, your finger brushing over the photo. “It was freezing, and my heels were killing me, but I didn’t care. It was just… us.”

Matt leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “That was the moment I knew I didn’t want it to be just one night.”

You looked up at him, your smile warm and a little teasing. “Oh, you knew, huh? All because of a wedding?”

“All because of our wedding,” he corrected, his eyes sparkling as he pulled you closer. “The one we didn’t plan, but somehow turned out perfect anyway.”

©luvoverdose

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪. cute idea, not sure i executed it exactly how i wanted but that’s ok. as soon as i saw the wedding photos of matt this idea popped into my head sooo i hope you guys enjoy