#BUT GOD IT COMPLES ME
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0m3n-0f-d3ath · 9 months ago
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Sock eye salmon reflection
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𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
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encntada · 2 months ago
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meme  call !  ——  like  this  and  i'll  invade  your  inbox,  please  specify  who  you'd  like  the  memes  from  and  if  you're  a  fellow  multi  please  specify  who  you'd  like  the  memes  for  as  well !
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arttsuka · 2 months ago
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I understand why ancient greek 'culture' is so 'popular' and well known on the internet but I wish people knew about a more bit about recent greek history as well (not modern, we don't have anything going on now. Recent as in, 1800)
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captainshyguy · 9 months ago
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this is gonna sound a little mean but idc, i have literally never been in a more self absorbed fandom than the m*rio fandom. im literally begging u people to learn how to have conversations that arent just talking incessantly about your own projects and thoughts. please for the love of god learn how to listen to the people ur supposed to be conversing with and actually acknowledge what theyre saying im gonna turn into the fucking joker
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enemui · 2 months ago
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As someone whose introduction to gacha games was Fire Emblem Heroes, it baffles me how garbage standard banners are in Hoyo games. Like, if you're so afraid of making the standard banner good, why are you also afraid of giving out plenty resources for people to pull on it? I'm not using my primogems/stellar jade/polychromes on a regular ass banner, so unless you give me a standard wish, I'm not going there. But they don't even give us that?? Like, in the start it's kinda ok with there basically being 20-30 discounted pulls. But the guaranteed five star pick isn't really impressive, it takes too long to activate and it only works once, and even if there was a time limit on it, you couldn't make me care for a unit that'll get outstaged by, like, ten different characters within three years.
I really wish there was more incentive to pull on the regular banners but there just isn't. In FEH, you're spoiled for choice with seasonal costume limited banners (that last a month!) and limited strong "legendary" units (that last half a month!) and then just a bunch of other picks where you can either focus on enhancing older units or collecting valueable resources. Of course, FEH runs on much simpler programming and can afford to release wayyy more characters, way more often, but I don't think it excuses Hoyo games' tendency to be like;
"Oh, you don't like this month's limited character? Are you not interested in collecting all 69k sameface waifus? Well, there's male units on the standard banner, unfortunately, the standard banner is complete shit! Have fun twiddling your thumbs while our female characters breast boobily into powercreeping the game to become unplayable!"
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edelgards · 1 year ago
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look away
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thoughtfulseason · 1 year ago
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my dinner is boiled potatoes 😭😭😭 the things i do for that tournament
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shotmrmiller · 1 year ago
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A/N: I simply had to join on writing for John 'just the tip' MacTavish so. Here goes. Unedited, its horny its explicit yall know the deal. It was supposed to be a drabble and i got completely carried away. got me out the writing slump tho. any mistakes please ignore. CBF!Johnny because I say so.
Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader
WC: 1.6K
Flipping through Netflix, you hear a rapt at the door. You turn to look at your dad, who gets up quickly as if expecting someone. 
“Johnny, my boy! I’m glad you could make it! Had me thinking you forgot all about us. Come on in!” Your dad pulls Johnny in for an affectionate embrace that he returns immediately.
“Och, yer aff yer heid! As if I could ever forget my second family!” Giving your dad a final pat on the back, Johnny steps back. “Now where’s my girl?” 
Lifting the hand holding the remote, you call out. “Present!” 
Johnny almost trips over the coffee table, rushing to you. He doesn’t wait for you to stand up, just snatches your wrist and lifts you for a hug— your socked feet dangling by his shins. With his strong arms wrapped around you, he pulls you close, nuzzling his face against your neck. “Missed ye, bonnie,” he murmurs, “missed ye so much.” 
As you exhale a wheezy breath, you tell him, “I love you too, Johnny, but I can’t breathe.” One last squeeze, and a squealed “Johnny!” he finally relents, setting you down. 
Hands resting on your shoulders, his striking blue eyes lock onto your face, flicking across your features, as if he was re-memorizing what you look like. His intense gaze rushes blood to your cheeks, but don’t shrink under it. It wouldn’t be the first time your best friend teases you like this. “Somethin’ on my face, Johnny boy?” and bat your lashes at him, “I know I’m staggering to look at, but now you’re just being shameless.” 
He lets out a huff, a small smirk gracing his lips, and mumbles, “Don’t I know it.” Your taunting smile falls off your face at that. What? Before you can even ask him what he means by that, your dad calls him into the kitchen. 
“Johnny! Come get a beer, it’s about to be movie time!” Without breaking eye contact, he answers him, “Aye! Comin’!’ and with a finger tap to the underside of your chin, walks away. Heart pounding against your chest, you head towards your bedroom to get a blanket, hoping the little walk calms the butterflies in your stomach. 
What?
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The movie is playing, and Johnny is curled up behind you on the reclined sofa, roughened palm resting on your thigh, occasionally squeezing it. You’re mortified at the slight arousal you’re feeling just at being caressed by Johnny. Johnny. Your best friend. Who has consistently had girlfriends, who will never look at you that way. You’ve never thought of him that way either, granted, but that’s what makes this so embarrassing. Maybe you’re ovulating, biology simply reacting in the presence of a virile male, or something. 
And then you feel the unmistakable bulge of his stiffening cock, faintly pressing against your arse. Gods. Heat radiating off of your face, you bite your lip and try to discreetly wiggle away, for his sake and yours. However, Johnny seems to disagree with your thoughts because he moves his hand from your thigh to grab your hips in a bruising grip, fingers digging into your hipbones, forcing you to be still.
He leans into your ear, warm breath tickling your cheek and softly whispers, “Dinnae move, hen,” and sluggishly starts to rock his hips, erection now firmly rubbing against your sleeping shorts. Johnny’s movements are imperceptible, nonexistent underneath your blanket. Not that it would matter, because the movie is reaching its climax, and all eyes are glued to the screen.
But your mind is solely focused on Johnny— the heat of his hands scorching against your skin, his prominent length hidden underneath his pajama bottoms grinding on you. 
“Lift yer leg a wee bit, hen.” Keeping a watchful gaze on your parents, you silently plead that they won’t notice as you hide your compliance under the guise of trying to make yourself comfortable. Once settled, you lowered your leg and had to bite your tongue with force, to keep the moan from slithering out of your throat. 
His cock, bare, right in between your thighs. Like warm velvet wrapped around steel, thick, heavy, tip pushing against your core with every minute thrust. Johnny moves even closer, arm tight around your waist, hand sliding into your bottoms, heading straight towards your soaked, swollen clit to rub feather-light delectable circles on it.
“I’m gonna stick just the tip in, a’right? I swear,” he says in a hushed tone, as he pulls back to lower the waistband of your shorts to rest on your upper thighs, “just,” he thrusts once, “the”, again, “tip.” and his leaking head slips into your hole— pushing it in until your walls flutter around it. 
“Ye feel incredible, squeeze that tight pus—” your dripping cunt cuts him off, drawing out a hiss of surprise from him. His subdued voice in your ear is so seductive, so bewitching, that you can’t help but clench around him. 
For most of the movie, Johnny languidly thrusts into you, truly keeping to his word. Just the tip— teasing you, making you drip onto the sofa, muted squishy, gooey noises coming from under your blanket, and you couldn’t be bothered by any of it. Flared, ridged head catching on your slippery lips with every drag of his cock. You’re drooling on your hand that covers your mouth beneath the snug blanket— struggling to hold back the mewls and whimpers threatening to escape. 
All of a sudden, Johnny mutters, “The movie’s about ta end, close yer eyes and keep completely still. Stabilize and deepen yer breathin’, hen.” Without hesitation, you do as he says, body going limp in compliance, the only tell-tale sign of your excitability being the rapid pulsing of your jugular on the delicate skin of your neck. 
The TV is turned off, and the living room goes completely silent, apart from the deafening sound of blood rushing in your ears. Johnny behind you feigns quiet snoring, so believable that if it wasn’t for his throbbing cock still at your entrance, you’d think he actually fell asleep.
Your dad’s poor imitation of a whisper cuts through the quiet. 
“They’re asleep, let’s just leave them here.” Footsteps shuffle as they tip-toe around you both, and as they get farther away, Johnny slowly moves his hand to cover yours, truly weighing down on it. The instant their door clicks shut, he uses his other hand to pick up your leg and throw it over your shoulder, and thrusts hard, deep, until his bollocks are flush against your arse. Your nails claw at the hand over your mouth as you scream, your gummy walls stretching against his assault— a burn so exquisite, pleasure teetering on the edge of pain, achingly delicious, it sends tendrils of ecstasy directly into your veins.
He lets out a guttural moan, one only you could hear, private, intimate. “It’s about time ye let me have this sweet pussy, hen.” One vicious thrust that punches the air from your lungs and rattles the sofa, and then another, when he finally speaks again. “Fuck, we hae ta do this when we are nae restricted, hm?” His hips start a slow rhythm, long, unhurried undulating thrusts, and every time he bottoms out, he grinds his pubic bone on your clit, the tip of his cock giving your cervix a lewd kiss. Every time he reaches the entrance of your womb, it feels like he wants to go in further, to go past the dead end, and your cock drunk mind only thinks about how you want him to do it, too. 
“Yer slobberin’ all over my hand, hen. S’that good, is it? Oooh, I ken it is. Only the best fer my girl, hm?” He hisses through clenched teeth, “I’m fuckin’ close. Come f’me. I’m not comin’ until ye cover my cock with yer cream, leave a white ring at the base.” His hips have been moving at the same exact speed he started at, not a stutter in his pattern. As if him fucking you into a puddle of arousal wasn’t taxing on his part. 
Then he does something different, something that threatens to snap that coil in your lower tummy, and along with it your sanity. He starts giving shallow thrusts, never pulling out more than halfway, and makes sure to rub against your clit, giving you that heavenly friction you need. It has you delirious, fervent, and you start moving your own hips, uncaring of how you must look.
Johnny moves his thumb down to your nub, drawing tight, precise, merciless circles on it, and you are thrown over the edge— more like kicked off by a spartan kick from how gut-wrenching your orgasm is ripped from you. Your pleasure is so acute, so powerful that there are needle-like pricks on the shell of your ears. Your body shakes underneath Johnny, pussy throbbing and pulsing with the aftershocks of your blinding climax. 
Drool escapes under Johnny’s palm, dripping down your cheeks and into your hair as you fall back, going completely limp, utterly spent. Finally getting back some coherency, you realize that Johnny’s gone soft inside of you, also drained, as he catches his breath holding himself over you. He removes his hand, uncaring that it’s sticky with your spit, and noses your cheekbone, nudging you to slant his lips over yours, curling his tongue against yours. He swallows the pathetic mewl you let out and presses one final kiss onto your lips. 
“I’ve missed ye, hen. I’m so happy to be here, with ye. Let’s move to your bedroom, and in 10 minutes, I’ll give ye a proper fuckin’.” 
Your eyes close shut as you let out a resigned but elated sigh. 
“I love you too, Johnny.” 
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@rookiesbookies and forgive the tag but i had you in mind too @brewed-pangolin ill never do it again unprompted
part 2
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rinsoap · 6 months ago
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➣ includes : brother's best friend! suna rintaro. oh and also small age gap between him and the reader, only two ish years though. LOWKEY SUGGESTIVE? one mention of the reader not wearing a bra if that is something u deem suggestive.
note : i'm so in love with romantic and sexual tension between u n suna it's so fun to write! also lmk if u want a pt2 or something not sure what i'd do for a pt2 but y'all can send in some ideas lol
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suna rintaro who is your brother’s best friend… he likes seeing you around the house, ready for bed looking so cute in your comfy shorts and a little top n no bra. he likes that he gets to see what you look like everyday instead of only seeing you dolled up. he likes when you’re glammed, of course, you always look stunning. he just likes stealing glances of you do everyday tasks.
like tonight, in the kitchen far too late in the night, he’ll lean against the doorframe as he watches you make a snack. he notices the curves of your shoulders, and how the small of your back peeks out from your top riding up a little. you’re still humming the song you’ve had stuck in your head all day. you turn around and surprised to see him, you gasp, causing him to widen his lazy half smile. you roll your eyes, party because he scared you, but also because he looks way too good. hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants loose around his hips, hair messy, and a white tank top on that fits him perfectly. he looks like a slut.
“what could you possibly want,” you sigh, and he shrugs in response. “just wanna see what you’re up to”
“where’s my brother? shouldn’t you be hanging with him?” you question, pointing a strawberry pop tart at him accusingly.
“he’s asleep” he closes the distance between you to take the pop tart out of your hand, taking a rather generous bite.
“rin stop, oh my god you just ate like half of it,” you exclaim, snatching it back, “you’ve already cleaned out half the fridge, when will your greedy ass be satisfied?”
“rin?” he cocks his head, his sleepy smile settling into a smug one, “you haven’t called me that since, like, elementary school” the eye contact he so casually maintains is difficult for you to keep, and your face gets furiously hot, looking away. “yeah well, i kind of thought you were embarrassed by it, so i got embarrassed and i stopped” you try to exit the conversation and walk past him to the doorway he was just standing in, trying to signal that you were going to leave to your bedroom. he follows you, much to your dismay. he leans against the doorway, his back to it, and you mimick his action. you're both looking directly at each other, and it feels weirdly intimate. seeing each other face on meant he could see every expression on your face.
“why would you think that? i wasn’t embarrassed.” he says, his eyes scan you from your painted toenails to the top of your head, but inevitably looking into your eyes. after a beat of hesitation, he continues talking. “...you know, i had a crush on you then. i was really sad when you stopped calling me it.”
the heat in your face returns as he laughs. how can he sit there and laugh after dropping this insane piece of information??
“you’re kidding. i totally liked you back, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you look at him incredulously, mouth agape and growing annoyed as you realize he was not as shocked finding out your feelings as you were in learning his.
“yeah, i figured. but your brother, you know? and just in case i wasn’t right, i didn’t want you to reject me and then show up at your house the next day to watch movies with your brother” he had a point. you remember those movie nights. you always wanted to watch with them, but your brother would always say no and kick you out of the room. suna always let you watch anyways, offering a seat on the couch beside him despite his best friend’s wishes.
the movie nights were not the only thing your mind was pondering on. if he knew about your crush then, did he know now? your feelings were much too complicated for you to call it a crush, and you'd like to think you've learned how to be at least a little subtle, so maybe he didn't know.
"that’s crazy. we just barely missed each other i guess” you finally say with a chuckle that turns into a thoughtful hum, glancing anywhere but his eyes.
"what? so, you don't have a crush on me anymore?" oh, so he did know. he easily closes the gap between you two, and for once, it doesn't seem like he's teasing you. "rin..." you say, mouth slightly open like you're going to add something else, but you don't. "i don't think we missed anything... am i wrong?" he leans towards, and you swear he's going to kiss you but he stops before your lips touch, "you can tell me if i'm wrong."
you grab his shirt and pull him in to press your lips against his, bringing him into a surprising, but long kiss. his hands thread through your hair, lingering in the moment. when you break away, they slide from your hair to the sides of your neck, and he has the dumbest smile on his face. "definitely not wrong."
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verstappensrealwife · 19 days ago
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Pinch me - Charles Leclerc x fem!Reader
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[ charles leclerc masterlist  /  f1 masterlist]
ʚɞ in which... max's infedelity leads to charles' dream come true. ʚɞ angst, smut, fluff  ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 3200 words ʚɞ warnings: not exactly smutty per-say but they have sex and thats obvious, max cheats on the reader, mon chéri. lovesick!charles.
Click here to be tagged in my works.
-୨♡୧-
Nothing in this world was perfect. But Max Verstappen… he was closest to it.
Around him you were a love-sick puppy, ready to do anything he asked of you. You’re friends told you being with him was silly and that you should ‘really be with someone who’s not so… hot headed, like Charles!’
Pfft! As if.
Max Verstappen, cold and aggressive on track, gentle and caring off the track. He held your hair back when you were throwing up, opened every door for you, pulled out your chair.
And yet still, that bastard fucking cheated!
You were ready to surprise him after he had won once again in Japan, only his assistant knew you were coming, prepping you with a spare keycard and a big smile on her face as she led you to the room, before disappearing back down the lift.
You pushed the card into the slot, waiting a moment before the green light flickered and a quick beep sounded as the door unlocked with a click.
“Max~” You sang, walking into the room. You couldn’t see the bed yet, but you heard the banging and hushed whispers of rushing around. God, did you feel your lungs collapse inwards. There he was, barely dressed while some woman you couldn’t see the face of under the covers hid herself.
“I- Baby let me explain because-”
“Because it’s not what it looks like? Because I think this looks like you are fucking someone else!”
He stuttered, not really having any words, he just kept looking at you, then at the woman in the bed who still hadn’t sat up, then at you again. No words, just mumbles on incoherence tumbling from his lips.
“Fuck you.” Is all you said, walking out the room without a second glance. Taking a deep, shaky breath as you slammed the door shut and walked towards the elevator, tapping your foot impatiently, adrenaline rushing through you. You had to get away from him. Like, now.
Your heart was pounding so loudly it felt like it might burst out of your chest. The glossy hotel corridor stretched endlessly in both directions, dimly lit and eerily quiet. Each second waiting for the elevator dragged like an eternity, the weight of what you'd just seen pressing down on you like a physical force. The mirrored doors reflected your tear-streaked face, and you quickly wiped at your cheeks, willing yourself not to break down just yet. Not here.
“Are you okay?” Someone was standing next to you, you barely registered it, you didn’t even bother to look who when you heard the voice again, “mon chéri?”
You didn’t think. You couldn’t think. In the whirlwind of betrayal and heartbreak, logic wasn’t your guide—it was pure instinct. Without a second thought, you turned and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close, and pressed your lips to his.
And, to this day, he won’t lie that that moment was better than winning any grand prix- yes even Monaco. He loved you, and had done since he saw you wander around the paddock, confused where red bull was, and why you were near Alfa Romeo. 2018.
6 years of loving you, loving you in complete silence. 
it was so completely obvious, except to you.
Charles was the cause of plenty of yours, and Max’s arguments, if you even lingered near the Monegasque, Max threw a hissy fit.
Charles stood stiff at first but he came to his senses very swiftly. You, the most amazing woman he’d laid eyes on, was holding him by the nape of his neck and pulling him impossibly close. It was a dream come true- literally. He dreamed about you alot more than he’d care to admit.
He couldn’t think straight, his thoughts plagued by your lips, your hands that were scratching into his neck, your boobs which were squished against his chest.  When you pulled away, he looked completely euphoric. His eyes were still closed, his lips parted and his face bright red. He didn’t move until he felt a sharp sting on his arm—his own pinch. He’d done it to make sure this wasn’t another dream, and when he finally opened his eyes, you were still there. You were watching him, your head tilted in concern as you noticed the red marks on his skin.
He smiled shyly, “Sorry.” He then quickly mumbled as reality crept in, remembering Max was your boyfriend. He wasn’t sure why he apologised, you kissed him.
“He cheated.” You said, voice raw with emotion.
“Oh.” Charles frowned, though the slight twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed him. He tried to stifle the surge of joy bubbling inside him, knowing it was wrong to feel this way when you were hurting. But he couldn’t help it. His heart thudded in his chest, and he struggled to suppress the giddy feeling threatening to consume him. “Sorry again then… about the break up.” he added quickly, his voice soft and full of poorly disguised excitement.
Sorry? No, he wasn’t sorry. Not even a little.
“Sorry I kissed you,” you mumbled, the weight of everything catching up to you. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that. Maybe you’d just complicated things even more.
“Don’t be, please,” Charles said, his voice cracking slightly. He sounded so vulnerable, so raw, a little pathetic. “I love kissing you.”
That made you laugh, a quiet, shaky sound that felt almost foreign coming from you in the moment. You reached up, your thumb gently brushing over his lips to clean off the faint smear of your lip gloss. He leaned into your touch ever so slightly, like he couldn’t help himself.
“Wanna go somewhere?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes widened for a split second before he nodded, his smile tentative but genuine. “Anywhere you want,” he said, his tone full of unspoken promises.
Inside Max’s hotel room, chaos reigned. He was frantically throwing clothes at the woman still tangled in the sheets, barking at her to get dressed. His own appearance was a disaster—boxers pulled on backwards, his t-shirt inside out, and his joggers nowhere to be found. He swore under his breath, his hands shaking as he struggled to get himself presentable enough to run after you.
Finally, he wrenched the door open, stepping into the hallway. His eyes darted down the corridor—and then he saw you.
You were standing with Charles at the elevator, the two of you close, your body language unmistakable. Charles was looking at you with an intensity that made Max’s chest tighten—a look filled with pure adoration, the kind Max couldn’t remember ever giving you. You, on the other hand, seemed shy, your gaze flickering down to the floor before peeking up at Charles when he coughed awkwardly.
The elevator doors began to close, and Max finally snapped out of his stupor. “Wait!” he called out, stepping forward, but it was too late. The heavy metal doors slid shut with a final clang, cutting off his view of you and Charles.
He stood there, frozen, his blank stare fixed on the now-empty space at the end of the corridor. The reality of what had just happened—and what he’d lost—sank in with a crushing weight.
Charles was undeniably needy, his every touch and look giving him away completely. He had no problem with the way you grinded against him on the dance floor, your bodies moving in perfect sync as if no one else existed in the crowded club. The whispers you breathed into his ear sent shivers down his spine, his hands tightening on your hips instinctively.
Maybe it was cruel, using him as a rebound. But even if it was, Charles didn’t care—not even a little. He would have let you break his heart a hundred times if it meant you’d let him kiss you again, taste the sweetness of your lips, and feel the heat of your touch.
He had zero protests when your lips found his over and over again. Kissing him in the club, kissing him in the backseat of the taxi as it sped through the neon-lit streets of Suzuka. And certainly no protests when your drunken giggles and unsteady footsteps carried you both toward his hotel room, which, by a cruel twist of fate, was just one floor above Max’s.
The elevator cameras would have plenty to show. The way your nails dragged down the back of Charles’ neck, just shy of breaking skin. The way his hands roamed your body with an almost desperate reverence, like he couldn’t believe this was real. Both of you were lost in each other, oblivious to the world beyond the bubble you’d created.
When the door to his room finally clicked shut behind you, it only took seconds for you to stumble onto the bed, your laughter filling the quiet room. Charles landed above you, bracing himself on his forearms as he looked down at you, his cheeks flushed, his hair messy, and his eyes glassy from the alcohol—but more than that, from the way you made him feel.
The laughter slowly subsided, leaving only the sound of your heavy breathing. Your chest rose and fell as you looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips, lingering there like he couldn’t resist.
“You’re so perf—” Charles started, his voice soft and full of wonder.
You quickly clapped your hand over his mouth, cutting him off. “Not perfect,” you corrected firmly, though a small smile tugged at your lips.
He nodded, his lips curving against your palm. When you removed your hand, he tried again, “You’re so… ideal?”
His attempt made you laugh, a sound that felt so genuine and lighthearted, a sound you hadn’t heard from yourself in far too long—certainly not with Max. The moment lingered for just a second before you pulled him back down to you, your lips meeting his in a kiss that deepened, a kiss that felt like escape and discovery all at once.
Slowly, the two of you undressed, taking your time as if savoring each reveal, every touch, and every inch of each other. Charles’ hands were warm and reverent, exploring the shape of you like he wanted to memorize every curve. His attention was unwavering, his gaze soft yet searing, and his touch a perfect balance of gentle and demanding. You couldn’t help but notice the little things, like the slight asymmetry of his abs or the way his lips quirked into a small smile whenever you traced your fingers over his skin.
Charles was mostly quiet, save for the soft whispers that passed between you. His words weren’t meant to be reciprocated; he didn’t care if you didn’t feel the same way. For him, it was enough that he had you in this moment. In this moment, you were his, and he was yours.
He moved with a mix of tenderness and passion, always attuned to you. Every sound you made was like a symphony to him—your gasps, your moans, the way you whispered his name. He cherished every reaction, making it his mission to learn exactly what made you tick, what made you come undone.
For you, it was overwhelming, the way he touched you, the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel. You couldn’t get enough of him—his body, his voice, the way his movements felt like they were made just for you.
The night stretched on endlessly, filled with shared laughter, whispered praises, and stolen breaths. By the time you both succumbed to exhaustion, you were lying on top of him, your head resting against his chest, your leg draped over his waist. His hand traced absent patterns on your back as he stared at the ceiling, listening to your soft breathing.
Even after you drifted off, Charles stayed awake for a while longer, his eyes fixed on you. He admired the peaceful expression on your face, the gentle rise and fall of your chest. He didn’t want the moment to end. He knew it was fleeting, but he couldn’t help hoping it wouldn’t be the last time.
When he woke, the first thing he noticed was the sunlight streaming through the curtains. The second thing was you, still there. You were lying on your side, scrolling through your phone, the glow of the screen reflecting off your face.
“Good morning, mon chéri,” he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep.
You turned to him, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. He said nothing for a moment, just stared at you like he was trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. His eyes darted over your freckles, the curve of your lips, the way your messy morning-hair framed your face.
“Hi,” you replied quietly, your cheeks warming under his adoring stare.
For a moment, everything felt perfect, but then the weight of reality settled in. The guilt crept in, cold and unwelcome. You’d just slept with one of Max’s friends, and co-workers. Yes, Max had cheated, and yes, he deserved every ounce of karma, but still. You weren’t someone who hurt people. This wasn’t who you were—or at least, who you thought you were.
Your smile faltered as the conflict brewed inside you.
Charles noticed the shift in your expression almost instantly. His brows furrowed slightly as he propped himself up on one elbow, concern flashing in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine care.
You hesitated, biting your lip as you stared at the sheets tangled between your fingers. “I… I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “I feel… guilty. About everything.”
“Guilty?” Charles echoed, his hand reaching out to rest gently on your arm. “Why? You did nothing wrong.”
You looked up at him, your eyes searching his face for answers you weren’t even sure you wanted. “Didn’t I? Max cheated, yeah, but… I just slept with one of his friends. I feel like I’ve stooped to his level. And you… I used you, Charles. That’s not fair to you.”
Charles shook his head, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You didn’t use me,” he said firmly. “I wanted this, more than you know. If this is what you needed, then I’m glad I could be here for you.”
“But—” you started, but he cut you off, his hand gently cradling your cheek.
“No buts,” he said, his thumb brushing over your skin. “You’ve been hurt, mon chéri. It’s okay to want comfort, to want someone who will treat you the way you deserve. If that’s all this is, I’m okay with that.”
His words made your chest tighten. The sincerity in his voice was disarming, and the way he looked at you—it was so different from Max. Where Max had been possessive, Charles was supportive. Where Max had been quick to anger, Charles was calm and understanding.
You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “You’re too good for me,” you whispered.
Charles chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, I’m not. I just see you for what you are: an amazing woman who deserves more than she’s been given.”
The vulnerability in his words left you speechless. You didn’t know what to say, so instead, you leaned in and pressed your forehead to his. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, the silence filled with unspoken emotions.
Finally, you pulled back, a small smile breaking through your conflicted expression. “Thank you,” you said softly.
“For what?”
“For being you.”
Charles smiled in return, his hand still resting on your cheek. “Always.”
The morning carried on quietly. You both got dressed, sharing little touches and smiles that felt intimate but light. The guilt lingered at the edges of your mind, but so did a strange sense of peace. Charles made you feel safe, cherished, and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you were walking on eggshells.
As you slipped on your shoes, you glanced over at Charles, who was leaning against the desk, watching you with a soft expression. “I should go,” you said, though the words felt heavy.
He nodded, his smile bittersweet. “If that’s what you want.”
“It’s not,” you admitted, standing and walking toward him. “But I think I need to figure out what to do next.”
“I understand.” He hesitated before reaching for your hand, squeezing it gently. “If you need anything—anything at all—you know where to find me.”
You smiled, squeezing his hand in return. “Thank you.”
As you left the room and stepped into the hallway, your thoughts were a jumble.
The next few weeks at the paddock were... tense, to say the least. Charles found himself hyper aware of Max’s presence at all times. The Dutchman, with his usual confidence bordering on arrogance, seemed oblivious to the anxiety brewing under the surface of the Monegasque driver’s composed demeanor.
Charles avoided him like the plague. If Max was walking down the pit lane, Charles would conveniently busy himself with his engineers or slip into the Ferrari motorhome. If they were in the driver’s briefing, Charles kept his responses short and avoided eye contact. The mere thought of what had happened—what Max might suspect—had Charles living on edge. He wasn’t exactly guilty, but he wasn’t entirely innocent either. And the last thing he wanted was a confrontation.
But more than anything, he yearned for you.
Each weekend, as the Grand Prix circus traveled from one city to the next, Charles found himself scanning the paddock, hoping—no, desperately hoping—that you’d show up. He knew it was selfish, but even just a glimpse of you would settle his nerves, even if it was from afar.
At the drivers’ parade, his eyes wandered to the crowd, scanning faces without meaning to. He barely heard the questions thrown at him by reporters, his thoughts always drifting back to you.
He was distracted, no doubt about it. His performance on track was fine—he could drive fast even in his sleep—but his mind wasn’t entirely on racing. In quiet moments, he replayed that night over and over, the way you’d looked at him, the way you’d touched him, the way you’d laughed. It was both his greatest comfort and his greatest torment.
-୨♡୧-
Winter break 2024.
he’d finally begun to accept that maybe it was time to let go. Maybe you wouldn’t come back, not to him. Maybe that night was all he’d ever have, and he should be grateful for it. His thoughts consumed him so entirely that he didn’t notice the figure coming around the corner until it was too late.
He collided with someone—hard.
“Merde!” he muttered, stumbling back. His hands instinctively reached out to steady the person he’d bumped into. “I’m so sorry—”
His words caught in his throat as he looked up and realised who it was.
He pinched himself. 
Ow.
-୨♡୧-
:D :D :D pls like+reblog plsplspls i thrive off of attention.
---
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honeyryewhiskey · 2 months ago
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we’ve been loving in silence 𖤐 dean winchester 
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【 pairing 】 dean x fem!reader 【 summary 】 you’re a bartender in sioux falls, dean tends to stop in whenever he’s in town. you’ve played this game of touch + go for going on a decade now. when he stops in tonight, looking particularly worn out and tired, it’s you he’s searching for a restitute in.  【 genre / warnings 】 smut, explicit language, unprotected piv, needy dean, teasing/begging, aftercare, some plot, mdni, 18+ 【 wordcount 】 2.9k inspired by this song ⤜ we’ve been loving in silence by MARO ⤛ 
you knew the moment those heavy boots waltzed into your bar that you’d be here, stumbling into your dark apartment tipsy and high on his charming energy. you cross the threshold with dean’s calloused palms stuck to your hips. he nips at the side of your neck, making you giggle as you lose your balance. 
“i don’t think you’ve stopped touching me since we got out of the car.” you quip, peaking over your shoulder at those brilliantly green eyes. 
“mhm,” he hums, gently peppering kisses on the soft skin behind your ear, “can you really blame me, sweet girl?” his voice is damn near smokey at this hour in the night. rolling into your body like electricity as you notice even the faintest grunts of impatient desire emanating from him. 
dean effortlessly kicks the door closed behind him, using it to lean on as he pulls you in closer. turning within his grasp, you snake your arms around his strong neck and look up into his hungry gaze. his eyes dance across your face, memorizing each feature with complete admiration. 
“i’ve missed you, sweetheart.” he breathes, barely audible even in your closeness. he always calls you pet names, but you’ve noticed they leave his lips more frequently after a night of honey whiskey. 
“me too,” you smile, unable to deny the relief that left your soul when he came in tonight, “i was worried something happened to you, something permanent this time.” you confess, biting your lips and feeling anxious to express your concerns to mr no strings attached. but you’ve known each other for so long, known what his life is outside of your nights of drink and pillowtalk. when you spend months in radio silence, the fears begin to scream from the corners of your mind. 
“i know, baby, it’s been too long.” he sighs, bringing his hand to your jaw and running one of those large thumbs across your lips. “but i’m here now.” there is a quiet pleading in his words, one that you take to mean leave it, leave those thoughts at the door. and as always, you do.
pushing onto your tip toes, your eyes flutter closed as you collide your lips with his. he groans at the sudden connection, taking no more than a few milliseconds to deepen the kiss. lips messily moving against each other in a needy want. he pulls off your jacket without breaking contact, quickly moving his hands down your body and swiftly lifting you up, your legs wrap around his waist instinctively. 
dean turns your bodies so that it’s your back against the door now. “i need you,” he whispers on your lips, “i need this.” 
his pleas send a heat straight to your core, ricocheting through your body and leaving goosebumps in it’s wake. a mindless whimper escapes you. god, you’ve been starving for the touch of this man. 
your small verbal cue was enough for dean to take exactly what he’s craving. he carries you from the door and into your small apartment. despite not having been here in months he navigates through the dark rooms with ease, distracting you with nips and kisses across your collarbones. you don’t even realize you’ve made it to the bedroom until he lowers you onto the end of the bed. 
you watch with a love drunk gaze as he towers over you, and you can’t help reaching out and tracing the muscular outlines of his lower abdomen while he busies himself with removing his shirts. “you’re a true marvel to see, dean.” you confess, peaking through your lashes to watch how quickly he tries to hide his embarrassment from such a compliment. though you only meet with him in moments, you learned fairly early on how deeply wrong this gorgeous man is about himself. since then you committed to a secret promise to yourself that you’d do your best to acknowledge his beauty whenever he’s near. 
his charming toothy smile is back, “there you go again, being too sweet to me.” he teased. he takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, lips puffy and red from grazing his stubble in the sloppy kisses. your shirt tousled from his constant pawing. he leans down to become eye level, those thick lashes framing such vibrant green irises. “lie back for me, baby.” he murmurs, watching carefully as you follow his gentle command.
it isn’t often you get such a soft side of dean, hell, for years it was highly erotic work the two of you did on these nights. but you can sense something has change in him. maybe it came with age, or the constant reconciliations with life and death he faces on the road. he never shares too much, so you’ve learned to notice the smallest expressions in him to decode what might be going on inside that caged mind of his. 
as of right now, all dean could think about was devouring the sweetness he’s missed over the past few months. 
he gets to work undoing your belt, next the buttons of your jeans until he’s tugging both your bottoms and panties from your body. a satisfied sigh leaves his mouth as he looks over your half naked body. his eyes flick up to your shirt, clearly needing that off, too. so he hooks his thumbs and pulls it over your head, discarding it with the rest of the clothes. hovering over your frame, he trails kisses from your jaw, down your neck and across the plump part of your breasts that stick out of your bra. 
“i need to see all of you.” he rasps against your skin, sliding his hands between your back and the bed to swiftly unlatch your last piece of clothing. 
his hands lead the way down your sides, straight to the sensitive skin between your thighs as he pushes them apart. kneeling at the foot of your bed as if to pray, he works his mouth teasing the areas around your arousal, making the budding heat morph into need. 
you arch your back as his rough hands slowly slide up and down the sides of your legs, sending shock waves into your core, “please, dean, touch me.” you quietly plead. 
“easy, sweetheart.” he responds and you can feel his grin against your thigh as his lips inch closer to where you really want them. he loves this game, warming you up and getting you to quite literally begin to melt before he lets himself devour. 
his uses one arm to anchor himself, large palms squeezing the thick of your thigh while his other hand travels down past your navel, pressing his thumb against your clit as he works gentle circles. too gentle, you think. you want more, need it. 
“dean,” you breathe out, impatiently wiggling under his touch, “please.” 
with a groan his mouth replaces his thumb. sucking and lapping at your sensitive skin as you feel a wave of relief and bliss wash over you. you lose all sense of humanity as you become a mess of whimpers and moans. your sounds fuel his hunger, working you more aggressively with his mouth as his middle and ring finger tease your entrance. lazily sliding in and out, barely pushing in. 
“more, now.” you breathlessly demand. dean lets out a short laugh, pulling away from your heat. the sudden cold making you damn near writh beneath him. 
“beg.” he teases, and you look down to see those green eyes glowing with amusement. 
“please.” you manage, his eyes don’t leave your gaze as he lets his fingers tantalizing massage your clit.
“hm?” he hums, raising an eyebrow, completely indulging in the way your hips buck for more fiction.
 “please, dean.” you groan, throwing your head back against the mattress in defeat. your mind is swirling with a deep need for more of him inside you, on you, touching you in the ways only he can do. 
with a satisfied growl his lips are back to working pure bliss against your clit as his thick middle and ring fingers curl into the warmth inside you. you’re not even sure how his fingers are capable of thrusting against that sweet, aching knot inside the way they do. 
all you can do is squirm and whimper as he loses himself in pleasing you.
“fuck, dean,” you gasp as everything inside tenses and tightens, his lips pull and suck while his fingers plunge deep quickly. like a skeleton key finding it’s lock, dean presses into your dam and the floods break with ease. 
the release rolls through your body, soaking his face and fingers in your climax. you’re left shivering as he pulls away to stand over you. sucking on the fingers he just worked inside you, his face glimmers with pride of just how good he is at undoing you. 
“god, i missed that.” you sigh, catching your breath as dean undoes his belt and kicks his jeans off. his eyes take in every inch of your body as he pulls out his thick cock, working it in his hands. just watching him makes your core begin to ache all over again. 
“on your stomach, princess.” he commands, and you eagerly oblige. sticking your ass up with your thighs pressed together, just the way he likes it, and he appreciates you remembering. 
you felt the mattress dip under his weight as he centers himself behind you, shoving his bulging tip between your skin until it reached your sore clit, the heightened sensitivity making you moan and pathetically hump his cock, desperate for another release. his hands squeezed each side of your ass, applying more pressure to where your bodies meet. 
you rock against him, circling and bucking, trying to reach that itch, but it wasn’t enough. he knew that, but watching you use him like a toy was mesmerizing. 
“mm, please, dean.” you found yourself begging again, “i need you inside me, i need you to fuck me.” 
“fuck.” he groans. pulling away just quick enough to plunge inside, sending his entire thick length in, triggering a gasp from your lips. 
the sudden stretch sent a chill throughout your body, making you melt further into the bed as he fell into a mind numbing rhythm. wet skin slapping against each other cut through your shared symphony of moans. 
“baby, you’re so god damn tight.” he professes, squeezing your hips as he bucks harder into your cunt. his sickeningly deep voice paying such vulgar compliments made you twitch and hum. 
dean’s hand slips it’s way past your navel and straight to your clit, working messily fast circles as he coaxes another release from you. your thighs squeeze together as another knot formed in the pit of your stomach. 
“don’t stop, dean, please.” you begged, grabbing his wrist as if it could keep you grounded while he fucks you into senseless oblivion. his other hand presses into the small of your back, deepening your arch and allowing his tip to reach your sweet spot. 
he thrusts against that spot again and again until you’re making a mess all over him, whimpering and chanting his name like it was an invocation of the divine. 
your shameless release under his doing and hearing his name leave your mouth made dean’s head spin, feeling your walls tense around him turns his rhythm into a sputtering mess.
“fuck, baby.” he groans, his mind falling into a euphoric emptiness as he came inside you, bucking with the aftershock into a seeping wet mess. 
completely fucked out and weak, you collapsed onto the bed. your eyes watery and heavy as you blink yourself back to earth. dean’s warm hands rub up and down your back as he trails kisses across your shoulder blades. 
he didn’t want to walk away from you, have to look away from the beautiful mess he made of you. but, he knew better than to flop over and fall asleep like he did the first time you two shared a night together. then again, he was much younger and more selfish, and he had yet to grow so attached to you. something he would never admit to your face. but a part of him, buried away with the rest of his hope, wondered if you could sense how much care he had built up in the years he’s spent getting to know you in these visits. 
as dean left the room, you used every ounce of strength left in you to crawl up to the pillows, relaxing as you wait, knowing exactly what he was getting up to in the bathroom attached to your room. 
after a few moments, dean returns to your side. “waters warm,” he cooed with a smile, “just the way you like it.” 
you giggle, sitting up “you sure do know how to treat a woman right, winchester.” 
“only the ones i really like.” he responds, that gloating grin making you roll your eyes as you follow him into the shower. 
 ⤜
 the warm water felt incredible on your skin, enveloping your tired body as dean stood over you, his fingers massaging your scalp as he works vanilla scented conditioner into your hair.
“is this shit why you always smell so good?” he wonders aloud, and you could just see his face in that cute puzzled expression of his, despite facing the opposite direction. 
“yes,” you laugh, “my body wash is cookie butter scented, too.” 
“ah,” he sighs, “makes sense. wait, is that on purpose?” 
“what do you mean?” you ask, turning to face him and let the water rinse the sweet soap from your locks. 
“well, i mean, i always wanna take a bite when i’m around you.” he grins.
“are you saying you want to eat me, dean?” you tease, collecting more conditioner from the bottle and reaching up to rake it through dean’s hair. 
“well,” he began, an eyebrow lifting as that familiar smug expression graces his features, “i already have.”
you pinch his arm in retaliation, shaking your head at his smart mouth. 
“ow,” he feigns, rubbing the spot your fingers were. “hey, can’t say you hated it, right?” 
“rinse your hair, asshat.” you chime, switching places. you take notice in the way his arms flex as he works the conditioner out of his hair. his muscles have certainly grown over the last few months, and you try not to wonder what kind of bad he’s fighting to make him get stronger. 
“oh, aren’t you shameless, sweetheart.” he chuckles, winking before he continues, “checking me out while i wash the girlpoo from my hair.” 
“the girlpoo?” you echo, brows knitting in amused confusion.
“yeah,” he states plainly, “girl-sham-poo.” he emphasizes each part of the words as if that makes any sense of what he’s said.
“dean, it's a conditioner. and,” you smile, “can’t say you hate it, right?” 
“shut up.” he retorts, sending a playful glare. you smile at his usual go-to when he can’t find a way to give slack back. he reaches over and turns off the shower, grabbing the two towels he prepared earlier and handing one over. you internally cringe at the way he barely wipes any water off of his body, stepping out into the bathroom and leaving puddles in his wake. some things never change.
entering your room, you ruffle through the dresser draw packed with sleep clothes until you find your favorite big shirt to slip on. turning, you find a naked dean already beneath the covers, watching you. seeing him in your bed again reminds you of a time before. 
“do you always sleep naked?” you ask, snuggled into the comforter, lying just inches from that gorgeously crafted face.
“no,” dean sighs, “i actually am usually dressed, or close to it when i sleep.”
“why?” you ask.
dean pauses for a moment, those sweet green eyes clouding under whatever memories tumble beneath the surface, “i guess i can’t sleep any other way, always have to be ready.”
you consider his words, you still don’t fully understand the world he lives in but you’ve been trying to, “but not here?”
this earns a smile from the tired man, “no, not here.”
“hey, is that my shirt?” dean’s question disrupts your thoughts, bringing you back into the quiet of your dark bedroom. you look down, scanning the worn out t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in for years now.
“i think so, actually,” you respond, “from… what, ‘08? that time you spent almost a whole week with me for a reason you still have yet to tell me.” 
dean pauses, knowing damn well why he didn’t tell you. and he wasn’t going to now, either, because the last time he told you about his dance with life and death you went on a rant about how even dean winchester himself isn’t invincible, be careful, stay alive, and whatever else you blubbered out like a scolding parent. he wasn’t in the mood for it tonight.
“yeah, don’t remember.” he grinned, lifting his arm to invite you in, “care to join me?” he asks. 
rolling your eyes at his avoidance, you slip into the blankets. his arm finds your waist, pulling you close to his body. 
he brings a hand to your face, stealing a soft kiss before wrapping his arm again, tucking you into his chest. you somehow did forget the way dean cuddles is awfully aggressive, clutching you like a toy. but, as all the times before, you don’t mind it. there's a security in his arms you have yet to find elsewhere. you can hear the morning birds beginning to sing outside your bedroom window. by past patterns you estimate about four hours of sweet comfort before you’re left alone in this bed again. the wondrous dean winchester has a life to get back to, and you do, too. but you can’t ignore the tugging in your chest each time he leaves without a goodbye. 
 ──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────
ooof this one was fun to write !!! probably one of my fave things to daydream about is being the one dean returns to throughout the years for some solace in his life (luv being delulu, thinking i could heal this man) but maybe i'll do more oneshots with this scenario tho, hmmm much to think about
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the0doreslover · 1 year ago
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Kitten love?
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
warnings: fluff, the word slag once (not to a human) this was supposed to be comedic
summary: 🐈❤️🐈‍⬛
“How many times have i told you to keep your rabid horny cat away from mine how many more times am i going to say this nott?” you scoffed placing the black cat into theodore’s arms “I walked in and he was fucking humping her”
“well maybe if your stuck up princess of a cat stopped rubbing her ass on him, he wouldn’t go after her” he retorted
“what are you trying to say nott!”
“that your cat is a slag”
you gasped and were about to retaliate, before his friends intervened.
“alright, that’s enough of that, theodore you keep teddy away from….” pansy paused for a second
“cleo”
“away from cleo” she continued “and cleo stays away from teddy”
“fine by me!” you agreed
“me too”
“then that’s sorted”
That was infact not sorted
Theodore was sitting in the common room with his friends when he heard someone stomping in quite violently. He turned and saw you red in the face while a panicked hermione tried desperately to calm you.
Once your eyes locked with his it was like something snapped in your brain and you lunged for him.
People perked up watching as you tried to inflict harm on the slytherin boy
“Bloody hell, you’re crazy get off me!” he was laughing
“You can go to hell!” you were shouting at him “Why are you laughing!”
“You’re cute not to think i can’t have you on your back in seconds”
“Fuck you! and Fuck your mangy cat”
“Okay that’s enough” he grabbed your wrists and pinned you on the ground “why are you attacking me?”
everyone around the room watched the commotion silently
“My Cleo…”
“yeah?” he urged
“my cleo is…”
“for gods sake, what happened to your cat”
“She’s been impregnated!” you shouted struggling under him.
He paused for a second before the sound of laughter broke his thoughts, he looked up to where his friends + hermione were all trying and failing to surpress their giggles.
“Has she taken a test?” he ask
“She’s not a fucking human theodore, i told you to keep your animal away from mine and now look what’s happened” you pushed him to the side and stood up “hermione let’s go”
You were walking with harry, ron and hermione in the corridors when you heard your name being called.
You turned and came face to face with an out of breath theodore.
“Can i help you?”
“I’ve been- trying- to find you- all week!” he breathed out
“well here i am”
“listen, i need you to dig deep into your cold heart and find it in yourself to allow my cat to see yours”
“absolutely not”
“what’s wrong with you? this isn’t romeo and juliet, they are animals, my cat has been walking around aimlessly trying to find yours, have a heart” he snickered. “let him be a good dad”
“They way you guys are talking about these cats, you’d think they were real people” ron scoffed
“Fine, bring tony to my dorm after dinner”
“teddy” he corrected you
“yeah fine teddy”
“thanks love, appreciate it” he winked “see you after dinner”
That’s how you found yourself watching two cats reunite. It was as of you were watching a romantic film (but with cats)
“See, this is what you were in the way of” theodore snickered
“don’t make me regret my decision theodore” you scowled before the room fell into a comfortable silence
“i guess it is quite sweet” you smiled watching as cleo begun rubbing her face on teddy.
Theodore chuckled, and then, with a more serious tone, he said, "You know, maybe there's something to learn from Cleo and Teddy
you raised an eyebrow. "What are you saying, Nott?"
His gaze met yours, and he hesitated for a moment before speaking, "How about you let me get to know you?"
you found yourself contemplating the idea. After a brief pause, a smile crept across your face, and you agreed before turning your attention back to the cats on your bed, who had now comple te ly warmed up to each other.
One particularly sunny afternoon you were sat by the lake, cleo, who was quite big now, lay peacefully next to you keeping you company while you tried to study for your upcoming charms assignment.
you were stuck on a particularly hard question and when you decided to look up, you saw that the spot next to cleo was now occupied with her favourite cat, teddy.
you had warmed up to him after seeing him with your cleo so much. You reached your hand out to stroke him before a loud noise startled you.
You turned and saw theodore hysterically laughing.
“That was the most unfunny thing ever” you tried your hardest to hide your smile, but failed nonetheless.
“Yeah well, i got you to smile” he took a seat next to you.
“Well, can i help you?” you asked
“yeah” he smiled “you can talk to me”
“god you sound so lonely Theodore”
“well your cat has clearly gotten mine under mind control, he doesn’t even sit with me anymore”
you laughed
“can i tell you something” he asked “i feel like we are at this point in our friendship where you won’t kill me”
“who knows…” you shrugged with a faint smile on your lips.
“I purposefully let teddy near cleo”
“What?! why” you tried to be angry, but you honestly didn’t really mind the two cats near each other anymore
“because my favourite part of the week, was when you would come and give him to me, even if you were fuming half the time” he snickered
“that’s… really sweet”
he looked away from you and smiled.
“can i tell you a secret” you moved infront of him
“hm”
“every time i saw your cat, i’d be happy”
“why’s that?”
“cause it meant i’d get to talk to you… well shout but still”
he leaned forwards and grabbed you by the waist slowly pulling you closer towards him “can i tell you another secret” he whispered
“yes” you were slowly leaning towards him
he smiled and leaned into your face catching your lips in a sweet kiss.
“i think you should let me take you out”
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ardensregias · 10 months ago
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the best relief.
nsfw (*´꒳`*) afab!reader. model!yingxing x bodyguard!reader. dumbification. fingering. you call him "sir"—reader is very polite lol. reader wears makeup. edging. mirror sex. overstimulation. breeding. petnames used: darling, sweetheart. praises!!! :D forced eye contact 😵‍💫 he's a bit of a meanie but he's very in love w you hehe :33
it doesn't look good to me... hope yall like it though (_ _).。o○ please have this to make up for the boothill smut i couldn't make a part two of 😔
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the soft clinking of yingxing's extravagant accessories cuts through the silence of the night, accompanied by the sound of your angelic voice moaning his name as if he was your god as he plunged another rough finger into your drooling hole—practically begging him for more, hungrily swallowing his digits that he thinks they'll snap if you were to clamp down any harder.
"so needy f'me, aren't you?" a throaty growl escapes his chest, tinged with desire as the model leans down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, muffling your voice as he frenziedly pushes you up against the sink, positioning your legs in between his to keep you from squirming away.
yingxing swears he was never the type to do something like this to relieve his stress, as he knows the potential risks of it turning into a cosmos-wide scandals that will end up ruining everything he's worked hard to achieve—on the other hand, he simply doesn't have the ability to reject you when you were the one who voluntarily offered yourself to him, whispering in his ear about how you'd help him out in any way he wanted—so here you are; your clothes in disarray and a clear thread of saliva trickling down your chin, a testament of the supermodel's ability to make an absolute mess out of you, his precious soon-to-be girlfriend bodyguard.
you've always been a great bodyguard for him—a kindhearted and caring individual who takes good care of him while also being a bold and tenacious guardian whenever the pesky paparazzis are getting out of hand with their disturbances; which makes it even more enjoyable to break you into putty in his hands—and just to remind you, he hasn't even gotten to the fun part yet.
your hand flew over your mouth, trying so hard to muffle the sinful noises that escaped your pretty lips; fearing that yingxing's manager or that mysterious vidyadhara friend of his would barge into his house and caught you in the act. seeing this, his frown deepens, his hand swatting yours as he sinks his fingers deeper into your drenched hole, creating a series of loud sloshing noise that only serves to mortify you further at how dirty they sound.
"don't, i want to hear how good i made you feel," he whispered right beside your neck, tickling the sensitive skin on purpose.
you shake your head, unable to answer him properly without stuttering and making every words sound like a moan, "sir, what if—ah!" and with a simply curl of his fingers in the right direction, your complaints are silenced and replaced with high pitched cries—oh boy, at this rate, his tailored pants might just burst open with the way his bulge keeps growing bigger when he himself thought it couldn't anymore, all thanks to your beautiful voice.
"focus on me, don't think of anyone else," from the growl he struggled to suppress and the way he use his other hand to pinch your bud, you can tell that he's not very fond of the mentions of others during times like these—and you can't help your walls from twitching again at his demanding words, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach, tightening further at his precise movements. more incoherent words left your throat, and he smirks in acknowledgment of your nearing climax, drawing his fingers out just right before you can experience that oh-so-blissful feeling of relief.
a soft, frustrated whine left your throat as you clench around nothing, your lips curling downwards in disappointment as you look at him, "sir, why did you stop...?"
he doesn't respond, his attention completely directed at the crystal-clear substance coating his glove—a clear evidence of the euphoric experience he puts you through. aren't you just so adorable? getting so excited just by his fingers alone?
"eager, aren't we?" he sneers, pressing your bottom lip to make way for his soiled fingers, giving you a taste of yourself and oh aeons, why do you have to be so cute? eyes wide with tears and drool dripping down your chin as you lap the remaining of your own juices off the fabric, making his cock twitch yet again.
he's not gonna hold back anymore, he thinks—no, he simply cannot—hastily unbuckling his belt and pulling down his trousers, he sighs in relief when his erection is finally freed, the blunt head already leaking precum—a shiver ran down your spine, words catching in your throat at the length and girth; will it even fit?
yingxing smiles at the terrified look on your face, inching closer to playfully slap your folds with his tip, earning another whimper from you, "aww, are you scared, sweetheart?"
"no... i-it's fine, i can take it, sir," you slowly shake your head, still trying to look brave—the slight waver in your voice did not go past his ears though; it boosted his ego, actually.
the man snickered, gaze locking with yours, slowly guiding himself into the warm embrace of your walls, "we'll see about that,"
he sighs in pleasure as he watches your cunt eagerly swallows and clench around his length, as if trying to pull him in—so he reciprocates; jerking his hips to meet your pelvis in a slow and steady motion—your comfort and pleasure comes first, even if he is the one who needs this. still, you cannot help but roll your eyes whenever he reach deep enough to press against your sensitive spots, like he's done this millions of times before.
when he heard your moans getting louder, the man starts to pick up his pace, moving rougher and more demanding as his arms reach for your waist, pulling you down and bending you over so you can face the mirror; watching him pour out all his stress into your abused cunt and the way your body is arching against the sink—a sight so lewd that you want to look away from it, but no, he won't allow it; he wants you to see just how good he's making you feel—and he savors every moment of it, carving the memories of this obscene scene into his brain.
"sir—!" a tiny mewl left your lips when he pulls back, leaving only his tip inside, before slamming his hips back into yours, leaving not a single nook or cranny untouched—the intensity is enough to knock every single thought out of your pretty head. it feels too good, and before you could control yourself, your body lurched forward as you come undone on his cock, delicate fingers curling tightly onto the faucet as your poor body convulses in pleasure.
to stimulate you further, yingxing reach down to rub circles and patterns on your fluttering petals, "good girl—fuck, loosen up, will you? i won't be able to reward you if you don't let go of my cock," his voice is saccharine sweet, like a honeyed poison—so sweet yet so full of mirth, and you can't help but crave it more.
your gummy walls throb around him, trying so hard to not draw him in as he slowly drags his length across your overstimulated walls; yet you can't help yourself to not marvel at the sight of his silver hair cascading over your lower back, his eyes fluttering at how good it feels to nestle inside you—all reflected on the glass mirror for you to see.
but you were not able to gawk at him for long, for the haughty model always sought to catch you off guard—his hands squeezing the fat of your hips to ram his cock back inside, thrusting and rolling himself faster and harder than before, so much that you can hear the thwop thwop thwop sound, along with your soft wails harmonizing with his low grunts bouncing off the ceramic walls; you can only hope that his neighbors would not be suspicious of this totally-professional-relationship of yours.
as for the model himself, he couldn't care less, the only thing occupying his mind is that he has to lay his claim on you; to leave so many traces of his love on you that they will never fade no matter how many lives you have to go through—so he may always find you in every lifetime.
"keep your eyes on the mirror, darling," he clenches his jaw, guiding your chin up to face the fogged surface of the glass—yet it still cannot obstruct the sight of your lovely face; adorned with dark tears as a result of your smudged mascara, cheeks all warm and flushed, and trails of spit running down your chin. gosh, you really are the most gorgeous angel in this wretched world when you're fucked dumb on his dick.
"sir, i can't—"
"yes you can, and call me yingxing, please?" he coos, warm tongue prodding at your earlobe to coax you into obedience—not like he has to anyway.
"y-yingxing—ngh—yingxing yingxing! please, i'm—ah!" because his name immediately leaves your agape mouth like a mantra, along with unidentified words that got lost in between mewls and screams of pleasure; and that's all it takes for the course of pleasure to run down his body, eyes tightly shut as he releases rope after rope into your womb, pressing himself directly on that one delicate, spongy spot inside your pulsating warmth—which then leads to your second orgasm, the waves of pleasure coursing down your spine as your body tenses up, sticky fluid gushing out and spilling down the floor with a squelch.
he stills himself, panting heavily as his broad chest press down on your back; you can feel just how heated up he has gotten, how his coat is all drenched with sweat, how his voice cracks slightly as he mutters praises under his breath, "you're taking me so well... can you feel how deep i am right now?" his hand trails up your abdomen to press on a particularly warm and slightly protruding spot in your tummy; he really did not hold back in marking you, huh?
finally, after you both have calmed down, yingxing begins to pepper kisses on your hair and cheek, slowly grinding all the cum back inside you; he despises seeing it leave you, "are you okay?"
"yes, sir..."
he frowns, thumb caressing your chin in a slow motion, "i told you to call me yingxing," your vision is blurry due to the tears bubbling up your eyes, but you swear you could hear him pout at that.
before you could answer, he flipped you over, a pair of muscular arms supporting your trembling body as he positioned you to sit back on the sink, "i guess i need to fuck you some more, don't i? that way, your pretty little brain will never forget my name again," his smile turns into a full-blown grin, eyes sharp with mischief.
seems like this stress-relieving session is going to take longer than you anticipated.
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kiarastromboli · 1 year ago
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Teach me 2 (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)
Part.1 Part.3
Masterlist.
Warning: Not my edit, Smut content, don’t like it = don’t read it :)
Summary: Y/N and Chris's relationship has evolved, but Y/N insists on keeping a low profile for fear that her parents will find out she has a boyfriend.
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"Wake up, honey, your dad is dropping you off today," my mom said, gently stroking my hair to wake me up.
I just hummed in response, too lazy to open my mouth and speak.
After a few seconds of tossing in bed to stretch and rub my eyes, I reached for my phone.
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I smiled foolishly at my phone before getting out of bed to get ready.
My relationship with Chris had evolved since the night he climbed through my window two weeks ago. We decided to take our time; nothing was officially defined, and not many people knew about us.
Mainly because I was afraid my parents would find out I had a boyfriend. Chris didn't care; he wasn't the type to overthink, and that's precisely why I tried to keep this relationship discreet.
My parents had been quite clear in the past about boys—no boyfriends before the end of high school. According to them, it's a distraction, and they want me to focus fully on my studies, which I can understand.
On top of that, Chris is pretty much everything my parents would dislike, so it would be even worse if they found out I was dating him.
Anyway, I left my room to head to the bathroom. I took a quick shower, got dressed, brushed my teeth, styled my hair, and applied a bit of makeup.
I wanted to look a bit nicer today for Chris; I knew this lacrosse match was important for him, and I wanted to please him.
"You look very beautiful. Do you have a special event today?" my father asked as he saw me coming into the kitchen.
"Um, no, I just felt like getting ready a bit," I nervously replied before sitting at the table for breakfast.
"By the way, I'll probably be home a bit later tonight. There's an important lacrosse match, and I plan to watch it with Julia," I added nervously.
"Hm," my father looked at me strangely before returning to his phone.
I had my breakfast peacefully, and then my father and I headed to school.
My morning went by normally—nothing extraordinary. I attended classes, worked, and chatted a bit with my best friend Julia. Then lunchtime arrived.
"See you at the match!" I told Julia as I left the class to go to my locker.
I opened my locker to put away my things, and when I closed it, I was taken by surprise by Chris standing right behind me.
"Oh my god, Chris!" I said, placing my hand on my heart, thinking I was having a heart attack.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he said, chuckling, and I gave him a playful punch in the shoulder before laughing myself.
"You look good," he said with a smirk, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"I made an effort for you today," I told him, smiling and tilting my head to the side.
"Can't wait to take off that little skirt later," he whispered in my ear, making me blush.
"Chris!" I said, clearing my throat and looking around to make sure no one had heard.
He chuckled before leaning toward me for a kiss, and instinctively, I pulled back.
He gave me a confused look. "Not here. I don't want anyone to see us," I said timidly.
"Y/n, your parents aren't going to magically appear out of nowhere and catch us kissing. We're at school," he replied, rolling his eyes and sighing.
"I know, but I don't want to take the risk of someone telling them!" I replied.
"I couldn't care less if your parents don't like me, Y/n. It annoys me that I can't kiss you whenever I want!" he said, getting frustrated.
"Chris, I know. I'm sorry. Please, stop," I said, immediately feeling guilty. "Maybe you don't care, but it's important to me. I'm not ready for them to know. I need a little more time."
He sighed, throwing his head back. "Yeah, see you at the match after school," he said before turning around and leaving.
It really bothered me that things were so complicated. It was just the beginning of our relationship, and I was terrified of ruining everything because of my parents.
The rest of the day, I wasn't really focused on anything. I couldn't stop thinking about Chris. I didn't want to hurt him, and I could sense that this situation was bothering him. I wanted to find a way to make it up to him.
After school, Julia and I headed straight to the stadium to watch Chris's match. We had seats right at the front in the stands.
"Hold this for me. I'm going to see Chris quickly before the match starts," I told my best friend, handing her my bag.
Of course, she knew about Chris and me; she was the first person to find out.
She nodded, smiling at me, and I ran toward the locker rooms. I was lucky; Chris had just come out.
I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to a more discreet spot where no one could see us, then kissed him.
"I'm sorry for earlier," I replied, separating our lips. "I don't want our argument to distract you from your match. I'll find a solution."
"I'm not angry with you, Y/n," he said, placing his hand on my cheek. "It's just that I wish I could show everyone that you're mine."
"Shut up," I said, grabbing the collar of his shirt to kiss him. "How about you show me how much I'm yours after this match," I added, biting my lip.
"You won't have to ask me twice," he said, grabbing me by the waist, pulling me against him, and kissing me again. "Join me in the locker room after the match," he said, disconnecting our lips.
"Chris, I meant at your place or mine, not here dumbass," I said, chuckling.
"I won't wait until then. If it were up to me, I'd fuck you against this wall," he said, smiling.
"No, Chris, you're insane. We're not doing that in the locker room," I said, shaking my head.
"Okay, let's make a deal. If I score three times during this match, we do it in the locker room. Otherwise, it's up to you to decide," he said, extending his hand.
"Chris," I said, looking at him seriously, and he insisted, "Oh my god, okay fine, deal," I finally gave in, and he kissed me quickly before turning back to the others.
Even if Chris was doing pretty well in lacrosse, there was little chance he would score three times on his own. Given the level of his team, I knew this deal was already in my favor.
"Are you done making out with your secret boyfriend?" Julia said when I came back to sit next to her.
"Oh, shut up!" I said, laughing.
It was Chris's first match that I attended. I had seen him practice once or twice quickly, but I didn't expect to find it so attractive to watch him play.
I don't know if it was the brutality with which he entered the opposing team members sometimes or the moments of pause when he removed his helmet to run his hand through his hair.
Not to mention the countless times he threw me looks that, honestly, soaked my panties.
I already found Chris incredibly sexy in everyday life. Sometimes I even felt like a teenager in front of a boyband with him. This guy represented everything I found most attractive.
When he scored for the first time, I was the first to cheer and encourage him, proud to see my boyfriend contribute to his team's victory.
The second time, however, I quickly felt reality catching up with me. Had I just been fooled? I felt anxiety creeping in. If he scored one more time, it meant I was going to sleep with him in the locker room. Oh my god, what had I done?
The rest of the match, every time he approached to score, my heart skipped a beat. But when the last few minutes arrived, I started to feel reassured.
That was without counting on the fact that Chris scored one last time in the last 5 minutes of the match.
Everyone in the stands stood up to celebrate our team's victory, and I sat there for a moment when I realized what that meant. Damn.
After a few minutes of celebration, the team left the field to head to the locker room, and I received a message from Chris.
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I blushed at his message.
"Everything okay?" Julia asked, putting her hand on my shoulder, making me jump and immediately turning off my phone so she wouldn't see my messages.
"Um, yeah!" I said, clearing my throat and smiling to pretend nothing was wrong.
"Okay..." she said, looking at me strangely. "Anyways, my brother is dropping me home in 5 minutes. Do you want us to drop you off on the way to your place?" she offered.
"No, thanks, Ju. I'll wait for Chris to come out of the locker room. I have something to tell him quickly," I said timidly, running my hand over my neck.
"Oh, okay. Well, see you tomorrow, Y/n," she said, smiling before leaving.
It had been about twenty minutes since I was waiting in the stands, feeling stressed and anxious.
Of course, it wasn't about sleeping with Chris; on the contrary, I wanted it. It's just that I found it quite risky, and what if someone caught us?
Anyway, I made a deal with him, and I can't back down now.
My moment of solitude was interrupted by a message from Chris, letting me know that the locker room was empty, and he was now waiting for me to join him.
I took a deep breath and stood up before starting to walk towards the locker rooms.
I passed a few people on the way and tried to act casual as I walked past them. Once in front of the locker room door, I scanned the surroundings to make sure no one saw me enter.
I opened the door and quickly entered. My heart immediately raced when the door closed behind me.
I surveyed the room to find my boyfriend, but no one was there. "Ch-Chris?" I said timidly, gradually moving forward in the room.
No response. Turning my head, I saw Chris's bag on the bench with his lacrosse jersey on it, indicating that he was indeed here. "Not funny, idiot, answer me!" I said, rolling my eyes and starting to walk towards the showers.
Suddenly, I felt hands grab my waist and press me against a wall before feeling his lips crashing onto mine, making me sigh in surprise. "Chris! Oh my god!"
"That's the second time I've scared you today," he said, smiling proudly.
"Yes, and you really need to stop doing it if you don't want me to have a heart attack!" I said, giving him a playful shove to his chest.
I took a moment to admire him; he was shirtless, his hair still damp from the shower he probably just had. "I missed you," he said, reconnecting our lips.
"I missed you too," I replied, running my hand through his hair. "I didn't think you'd manage to score three times," I said in a slightly more timid tone.
"With the right motivation, there are plenty of things I can do," he said, smiling against my lips before removing one of the straps of my top.
"Chris—" I started to say before being cut off by his lips on my neck. "I know we made a deal, but I don't think it's a good idea," I said, unable to hold back small moans escaping my mouth.
"Why?" he asked, sliding his hands over my hips. "You don't seem like you want me to stop, judging by the sounds you're making," I could feel his smile against my neck.
"I don't—" I said, interrupted by a moan when he began nibbling on my neck. "If someone catches us, Chris, I—" I said before being cut off by his hands grabbing the back of my thighs to lift me.
"Don't worry. If you stay quiet, there's no reason anyone will catch us," he said with a smirk before kissing me again, this time our kiss was deeper and more fiery.
I knew it wasn't responsible of me, but his lips on my body only led me astray from the right path. I placed one hand on his shoulder while the other tangled in his hair. "We'll have to do this quickly, though. I don't know how much time we have before the janitor comes to clean the locker rooms," he said with a hungry voice, and I simply nodded.
He led us to the bench to sit next to his bag. His hands gripped my hips, making me moan once again, and I started moving my hips against his, making him groan in return. "I fucking missed this pussy. I can't wait any longer," he said, licking his lips, and indeed, I could feel his rock-hard cock through his joggers rubbing against my panties.
He came to grasp my throat in his hand, kissing me more fiercely than before, making me moan in surprise. This time was different, less gentle than the first, but equally pleasing. I couldn't help but squirm and moan, craving to feel him inside me again. "Shhh," he said, separating our lips.
"I'm sorry, it's just that—" I began before feeling his grip on my ass strengthen.
"It's just that what?" he said with a smirk. "Don't be all shy with me ma; tell me, or I'll stop now," he added, removing his hands from my ass.
"No, don't!" I said in a heated sigh before guiding his hands back to where they were, and he smiled. "It's just that I really need you now," I said timidly, and he immediately kissed me again.
His hands left my ass to remove his joggers and boxers, lifting his hips slightly, pressing his erection even closer to me, causing another moan to escape my lips.
"Y/n, you really need to make less noise than that," he chuckled, readjusting himself.
"Sorry," I said, blushing and looking down at his sizeable member. Not to brag, but in my eyes, it was rather large, and I was afraid that without any foreplay, his entrance might be painful.
"I won't enter before stretching you a bit, baby, don't worry," he chuckled before bringing his hand between our bodies.
He slid my panties to the side before inserting a finger inside me while looking at me with his beautiful blue eyes.
I tried to stifle a moan when he immediately added a second finger, making me furrow my brows and cling to his shoulder. "You're so beautiful, y/n," he said, moving his fingers inside me.
And I couldn't help but move my hips back and forth, hoping to feel him even deeper inside me. "You're such a good girl; look at you riding my fingers like a needy slut," his words prompted another moan to escape my mouth.
His free hand came to surround his member as he started to stroke himself while watching me. "I want to do it," I said, wrapping my hand around him, and he smiled before starting to bend his fingers inside me.
I gradually quickened my hand movements around him, and he threw his head back. "N-no, Chris, look at me," I said, moaning and placing my free hand on his cheek.
"Fuck, I need to be inside of you right now," he said, removing his fingers from me to grab a condom from his bag.
In a few seconds, he opened the condom with his teeth, and I stopped stroking him so he could put it on.
He wasted no time in seizing me by the hips and aligning himself with my entrance. He took care to shift my panties to the side before applying pressure to my hips to enter in one swift motion. "Chris!" I almost screamed, burying my head in his neck.
"Sorry, I couldn't wait any longer, ma," he said, groaning and starting to guide my hips up and down.
"Oh my fuck," I said, moaning and throwing my head back.
He took advantage of the moment to bury his head in my neck and kiss me there. "Chris, I—" I said, moaning, and he quickened the movement, I gently pulled his hair. "This is so good; please don't stop."
"Y/n, someone might hear you; you need to stop moaning like that, shit-" he said, lifting his head towards me and grabbing my chin.
"I don't fucking care, Chris; it feels good. I need you to go faster, please," I said, driven solely by my desires at that moment, and he did what I asked, thrusting from below this time.
He grabbed my hips tightly and started giving me fast and deep thrusts. "Oh my god, yes, right there," I said, dropping my head forward.
"Fuck, y/n, shhh," he said, trying his best to hold back his own moans.
I felt like I had become completely dumb; the only thing I could think of at that moment was Chris inside me. The moans coming from me were out of control, so Chris pressed his hand against my mouth to prevent any sound from escaping.
"God, I wish I didn't have to cover your pretty little mouth right now," he whispered without stopping his thrusts.
My lower abdomen tightened as he began to massage my clit. My eyes rolled back, and my hand instinctively gripped Chris's throat, which seemed to shock him momentarily but didn't displease him, judging by the smile that appeared on his face.
I closed my eyes, feeling my orgasm approaching. With my other hand, I removed Chris's hand from my mouth to warn him, "Baby, I'm really close," I said, moaning.
"Me too, ma, let it go," he said through gritted teeth. I locked eyes with him, my mouth open, refraining from letting my moans escape. Chris's brows were furrowed, and he bit his lips to prevent any noise from escaping.
"Chris, oh my god!" I almost screamed, tightening my grip around his neck, letting my orgasm take over.
"Hold on a little longer; I'm almost there babe," he said, breathless, giving me animalistic thrusts before he, too, reached climax and stopped his movements completely.
I let my head fall against his chest with him still inside me, and we both began to chuckle. "I'm going to need a second shower," he said, laughing.
"Well, we don't have time. You'll take one at your place; I have to go home before my parents get worried." I told him, straightening up and placing my hands around his cheeks.
"Hmm," he simply hummed, caressing my ass and kissing me tenderly.
I stood up, readjusted my skirt and panties, while he disposed of the condom and got dressed on his end. "I'm good?" I asked, wanting him to tell me if I was disheveled or if my clothes were misplaced.
"Mhm," he said, nodding, and we both headed towards the exit.
He grabbed me by the arm to kiss me. "I love you, Chris," I said, breaking our kiss with a big smile.
"I love you, baby," he replied before I turned to open the door and stepped out.
I quickly descended from my little cloud when I opened the door and found myself face to face with Chris's coach, who crossed his arms.
"Y/f/n y/l/n! I wouldn't have expected to run into you here," he said, giving me a judgmental look before Chris came out right after. "Chris Sturniolo, what a surprise!"
I looked at Chris anxiously, hoping he could come up with a miracle solution. "Coach, it's not what you think—" he started before being interrupted.
"I don't want to hear anything. Both of you will explain yourselves to the principal tomorrow. Go home now," he responded.
Oh my god, this time I'm really in trouble...
Masterlist.
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dilfartist · 2 years ago
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Missed - short
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Pairing; Yandere Las Plagas Leon Kennedy x reader
Synopsis; after healing Ashely from the Las Plagas, Leon is unable to heal himself. Now fully infected with the Las Plagas, Leon returns home to you.
Reader description; Female/GN
Word count; 1k
TW;dark themes, Leon being crazy is so hot.
!Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!
“Fuck, please start! Please start! Please start!” you cried ramming your car keys into the ignition. Regardless of the number of times you twist the keys, the car refuses to start. “No! Why, god!?” you choke, tears welling up and stinging your eyes.
You study the parking lot through the side-view mirror. Aside from parked vehicles, it was empty. Still, you felt the coil tightening in your stomach. Leon was bound to come any moment. And thanks to the abundance of entrances, he was free to enter wherever.
Instinctively, you press the lock button on the keys. All doors click reassuringly. Now you sit in your car, granting yourself the opportunity to settle your nerves.
What the hell had happened to Leon? One week ago you break up because of his constant absence, then today he’s pounding on your apartment building nearly taking the door off its hinges.
Leon pounding on the door wasn't too out of the ordinary, considering Leon, if given too much to drink, could be an obnoxious drunk. Nevertheless, his knocking was extremely harsh. Like he meant to knock down the door. Despite the clear red flag, you risked unlocking the door but completely halted when your cell phone aggressively vibrated in your pocket. Just as you answered the call, Leon’s banging ceased.
“Whatever you do, do not open that door!” a voice demanded urgently.
Without question, you compled. You simply backed away from the door. Again the voice commanded you sternly, “Grab a weapon. Use it if Leon manages to break in. And if he does, rush out of the door, do you understand?” you responded with an agreeing noise.
Leon begins pounding on the door once again. His muffled voice was audible, transferring through the door's thick wood to your ears. “I know you fucking hear me, (Name)! Answer this fucking door!”
You gape at the door. Leon never acted this way. Not even during arguments. Leon hated the idea of raising his voice at you, and even when he slipped, Leon corrected himself instantly. Something was terribly wrong. You reached over and clasped the largest knife poking outside the knife block.
Leon started hurling himself against the door, each hit included the sound of the door breaking. Before Leon could see you, you jumped into the closet adjacent to the front door. Not much after, Leon busted the door down; the door plunging to the ground with a deafening thud.
Placing your hand on your mouth, you watched through the thin closet slots as Leon stomped his way inside. Something undoubtedly was wrong with Leon. His peach-colored skin littered up to the bottom with visible dark veins. It looked unhealthy. Like Leon had been struck by lighting only a second ago.
He proceeded to your bedroom and you took the advantage. You bustled out of the closet, rushing out the door. Without looking back, you ran over to the elevator. Needing a distraction you pressed the down button on the elevator, hoping Leon would think you took the elevator and use the staircase beside it, whilst you utilized the exit on the other side of the hall.
The idea worked. The door slamming and footfalls descending the stairs was enough evidence.
So here you were in your car, chewing on your nails, fearing your ex-boyfriend’s arrival. You scanned the parking lot again, it stayed the same as the previous time. Just then your phone rang, startling you. Shaikly, you attain your phone from your pocket. The voice on the last call answers, “Miss. (Last name)?”
“Who is this? What the hell happened to Leon!?”
“I understand your stress, but please remember to keep calm.” the person advised calmly. “For starters, Leon works for us. Last week we sent him on a trip to Spain, unfortunately for Leon, he has obtained a virus. Fortunately for us, the woman he was sent to retrieve is safe and sound.”
“So?! I don’t care about the girl, whoever she is, I care about Leon!” you bark, voice quivering with anger.
“Well, when Leon returned to headquarters, he blacked out. It was impressive seeing how far he made it, evaluating the progress of the virus. We kept him safe, testing on him; and endeavoring to cure him. Sadly we haven't still. And that brings us to your situation. Leon, earlier this afternoon, escaped from containment. All week Leon spoke of his girlfriend, so we assumed he made his way to your apartment. We were right.”
“Now, I must warn you, Leon is dangerous. He’s not in his right mind at the moment. We’ll be able to further examine him, and help him if you lead him back to us. Are you able to do that?”
You shake your head, “No. The damn car won't cut on.”
“Alright, then we’ll send someone to your coordinates. Stay inside the car.” the person insists.
“Yeah. Okay, I will.”
The call ends and you are left gazing at the screen, slowly processing what was explained. You knew Leon worked in some secret agency, but this was on another level of strange.
“(Name)!” your name is roared malevolently. You shriek at the sight of Leon peering inside the car, hands pressed against the glass, red eyes meeting yours. “(Name), baby, open this door,” Leon spoke in his usual soft tone that only you experience. The tone that makes you malleable, and weak in the knees. “I’ve missed you. Been thinking about you all week. Those assholes kept us apart, but I'm here now.” Leon conversed with such sweetness it was beginning to make you physically sick.
Leon's visage also was painted with dark veins, his skin paler than before: Reminding you of how sick Leon really was. You wanted to help him. Wanted to hold him. But you wouldn't.
You shook your head, avoiding eye contact. “No, Lee,” you professed. “Y-you aren't okay, I won't let you in.”
Leon merely smiled. A sicking smile that sent chills dancing up your spine.
“Oh, but I am baby. Now open the door, I’ve missed you.”
Part 2
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linopls · 1 year ago
Text
kinktober day fifteen
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degradation seungmin x fem!reader warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, uses of the word 'slut', unprotected p in v, facial, i could've made it worse than i did but im so soft for seungmin don't come at me. 0.9k words
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“you know,” you say softly, swirling the straw of your iced coffee. your boyfriend seungmin is sat across from you in the only decent cafe on campus, sipping his hot latte and typing away on his laptop. “you don’t have to be so nice to me all the time.”
seungmin doesn’t break eye contact from his laptop. “it’s my job to be nice to you. it was in the boyfriend contract or something like that.”
“no, no. i mean like-” you quickly stop yourself, realizing that a conversation like this cannot be held in public. 
seungmin’s eyebrows scrunched together and he tilts his head like a puppy when he looks up at you. “say it.”
your eyes wander around the cafe, surveying the amount of people in eavesdropping distance. you stand up from the booth and lean over the table slightly, seungmin leans in to meet you halfway. the sentence you whispered into his ear could’ve made him cum on the spot.
“you don’t have to be so nice to me in bed. i’m not that fragile.”
seungmin leans back in his chair and you swear if he was in a cartoon his eyes would’ve sprung out of his head and his tongue would fall out of his mouth. he stares at you in silence for a couple seconds, mouth agape. 
“come on,” he says rather strictly. he closes his laptop and places it into his backpack. “we’re leaving now.”
“what?” you ask, not moving from your seat. 
“put your stuff away. we are leaving,” he says through gritted teeth. 
you comply quickly, throwing all your belongings into your backpack and following him out the door. seungmin grabs hold of your wrist and walks you back to his apartment, just a couple minutes away from the cafe. 
“seung, did i say something wrong?” you’re first to break the silence. 
seungmin pushes the elevator button for the fifth floor. “no,” he says softly.
as the elevator dings and the door opens, he’s pulling you by the wrist again into his apartment. before you can set down your bag or remove your shoes, seungmin has you pressed against the door and places sloppy, wet kisses down your neck.
he plants kisses over top of your clothes, in a straight line to your lower stomach. with one swift motion, he pulls your pants down to your ankles. he parts your legs with his hands and takes one of his fingers and swipes it through your folds.
“god, y/n, you’re already soaking and i’ve barely touched you.”
you moan out loudly and seungmin chuckles. 
“min, i need you,” you whimper. you grab him by the collar of his shirt. 
“desepate today, aren’t we?” he teases. he interlocks his lips with yours and kisses you gently while slowly undoing the tie of his sweats and dropping them to his ankles.
he helps you step out of your pants and motions for you to jump up into his arms. he wraps his arms around you legs and supports you with a firm grip on your ass. he walks you over to the kitchen counter and lines his cock up with your entrance.
“beg for it,” he commands and the words immediately start pouring from your mouth.
“please seungmin, i need you so badly. please.”
he slams his cock into your soaking wet hole and you wince at the stretch.
“oh come on, you can take it. you do it all the time, it’s no different,” he coos in your ear. something about his words send shivers down your spine. he’s never spoken to you like this before, its so out of character and that makes it a million times more errotic. 
you wrap your legs around his waist as he continues to thrust into you with no mercy. your nails claw at his back and you bite down on his shoulder to muffle the parade of noises coming from your mouth.
“finally quieting yourself? don’t want my roommates to hear you, do you?”
your eyes widen. you had completely forgotten that he lives with two other guys and that they might be home and could hear you both out from their rooms.
“gone completely quiet now? ashamed of how easy and slutty you are that you’ll let me fuck you in my kitchen where any one of my friends could see you?”
the sound you make is a moan you’ve never made before. you clench hard around seungmin’s cock and whine profusely as he moves one of his hands to your clit. 
“seung, close,” you moan into the crook of his neck.
“so close so quick?” seungmin purrs. “damn, you are so easy.”
“cumming,” you cry as you feel your cunt pulsing around his cock. 
“fuckin’ slut,” he grunts as he thrusts into you, harsh and quick. you whine as seungmin continues to overstimulate you while he brings himself closer to his own release. 
“get on the ground,” he spits, pulling his thick and angry cock from your hole.
you quickly climb off the counter and place yourself on your knees in front of him. he wraps his hand around the base of his cock and places the tip on your mouth.
“open your mouth, slut,” he says, jerking his cock with a tight fist. with a couple of pumps, he sprays his release all over your face, most of it landing in your mouth but some on your cheeks and dripping down your chin.
he grabs you by the chin and helps you stand on your feet. he presses his lips to yours, harshly and passionately, and backs you against the counter again.
“i know you can take me again, slut,” he says, lips against yours. “let’s go back to my room, i have something i want to try this time.”
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pov im so sorry about how late this is.
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