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DONTBLINKS5E3
#carlos sainz jr#cs#m#hiiiiiii kissy kissy whos my clever little vaseline lip balm princess. you are!!!!!!!#dropping the skis soooo overlooked. such a guy in a body move. child dropping his toys from up high to see what will happen. 😇#photoshop making various whirring kathunking noises at being asked to do work. scratch discs are NOT full you just hate me!!!
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@avianii I saw your post about your Physics test and wanted to reply to say that I, an Aerospace Engineer, have gotten an F on a Statics exam so I sympathize.
You are doing great and no matter what happens you got this 👏👏👏
Also have this video of vintage aircraft carrier crew shenanigans��️ to make you feel better :)
#I CAN’T ATTACH VIDEOS IN REBLOGS OR ASKS TUMBLR WHY D:<#I hate physics btw it can suck it#and statics for the most part but it was Covid so that didn’t help#I’m that elf Hermy from Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer#an engineer who doesn’t like physics or statics????#an elf who doesn’t want to make toys????#top gun#video#f-14 tomcat#flyboys#for real an F btw#it was 15/100#for the record I passed with a C#Cs get degrees#this is so flyboy coded#flyboy shenanigans#mutuals <3
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Looks like a toy for playing around with some knot theory stuff
The numbers can be re-attached via velcro patches.
One can use the threads/shoelaces for playing with some weaving patterns. Additionally one can use the slilicone pop-up dots as a binary/boolean indicator, which might be a good helpful tool.
Due to material reasons this thing only has 9 columns. The number 0 might get a different place or calculation mechanism.
I also still do not really know how I really want to use this strange thing.
...
A well-working flap:
And a (useless) information for free:
[ Source: lisburnmuseum.com ]
#kalkulationslappen 2.0#calculation rag#calculation rag 2.0#silly#semi-serious math#math#mathematics#mathposting#knot theory#knotty#knotty toy#mathy toy#autism intensifies#calc rag#whatever sort of non-trivial nonsense#threads#weaving#computer#cs#computer science#primitive computer#my strange silly crafts
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Now, I'm not writing these parts in, but it's very important to me that you all know. That in the final five chapters of Crystal Springs. while everything is going down. Scott is repeating the mantra DON'T ASK JACK ABOUT MY ROOF in his head, over and over, because if he doesn't he will ask about the roof, and Carol has already given him the Principal glare MULTIPLE TIMES, and 7 and a half lectures on how NOW IS NOT THE TIME
#crystal springs#crystal springs FACTS#as jack is sitting beside his unconscious sister#as jack is being flung around by his mind controlled sister#as jack is trying to protect the elves and his sister AND his dad#as blaise is getting thrown around by HIS BROTHER#and so on and so on#the entire time. scott's just like what about my ro--#and carol's like DO NOT. TIME AND A PLACE SCOTT. GO BUILD A TOY TO GET SOME OF THAT ENERGY OUT#TSC#tsc 3#do i main tag this? idk! it's mostly cs related but about scott so#sure why tf not#the santa clause#dani speaks
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obsessed with the implications of this tag I just saw...
#ik academics in general are seen as being very 'boring'/'uptight' which is almost never true but like#most scientists are extremely passionate about their work! that's why we do it! people buy clothes themed for their specialities#my dad brought us pipettes and test tubes home from work as toys and we had scientific posters all through the house#including one in my room that showed some of the proteins in the human body that he helped discover#the only boring scientists are the ones who went into like engineering/cs (which i would argue are maths) for money instead of joy
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[[Screenshot ID: A twitter thread by sjklapecwriting that says:
The fact that "AI = what makes NPCs in video games do things" and "AI = complex scientific models that have been in use for years" and "AI = non-generative tools that automate tedious processes" and "AI = generative tools" are all called AI feels like deliberate obfuscation.
I want good AI in video games but I also don't want AI in video games at all and I think AI is useful in the sciences but don't trust AI at all to be used in science or medicine or law and AI to colour-correct a video or remove greenscreen is cool but AI generating movies sucks.
We talk about things that threaten art and creativity and steal vast quantities of work from artists and burn the amazon and drain the seas to do it all with the same language as something that can track a part of a video so special effects are easier to make and that sucks.
And this obfuscation feels so deliberate to me, because now people freak out if someone talks about wanting to use "AI that learns from the player" or "an AI solution to help me edit video" or "an AI that can be used to generate theoretical materials to test" and they look silly.
Because now "AI" is so firmly wrapped up with the concept of "generative models" that people are, rightfully, on guard against any mention of AI whatsoever to the point where entirely distinct technologies get uselessly criticized under the same umbrella.
Like imagine if we had no other language but "tank" to describe motor vehicles, so if I said we needed "public transit vehicles" everyone thought I wanted M1A1 Abrams for civilian transit. That's what it's like talking about AI.
End ID]]
#I really like the closing analogy and the points being made here and I'd take the criticism of the lack of specificity even farther#Like the generative nature is not the problem you can throw a bunch of texts into a small model you can train on your local computer and#make weird robot poetry that you execute your human curation skills on in order to find stuff worth sharing#that can be a worthwhile artistic endeavor that's generative use of computational models and even doing the same sort of#mathematical recombining#but you can do it in a way that's intentional and transformative and doesn't burn through any more power than routine computer tasks#in the year of our lord 2024#if you use a small enough set of texts and you're familiar with them you can spot plagiarism pretty easily#this was like a really common toy exercise for artsy or lit-loving folks in CS for years to dick around with the works of an author or two#anyways as someone who's had their finger on this pulse since before the chatgpt explosion#I still think that the problem has to do with the ease of interacting with an overpowered imperfect world-burning computer program#that will produce good-SEEMING results with absolutely no training from the operator#and i wish we had a name for the bad ones that focused on that#generative AI is too kind of a name for things like chatgpt#it lumps things that are actually useful (and old) in with things that are problematic#it's not calling out the problem and that's why the proponents of chatgpt are still okay with it#They're live tanks that look like fisher price cars#they're unregulated cartoon vapes#they're a brain surgery for dummies book#they're an unmarked button in your car that fires a cannon out of the top#fwiw I think the obfuscation is also coming more from a place of the AI bros wanting to steal legitimacy from scientific fields#wanting to make their current giant black box toy language models look older and more researched than they are#which I suppose is more or less what OP is saying#but phrased in a way that makes AI bros sound less like chessmasters#which i think is a useful exercise#long post
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grinding my teeth. unsure of how far i can push kitty b4 she goes from offputting to straight goofy
#new rough idea for kitty is that she originates from a woman (name of catherine) who sold her likeness in every form--#--to Some aspect of the URCR including brainscans and thus kitty acts as the base for the bog standard--#--test tube grown URCR person not based off of anybody else. acts as a standardized worker (different scans preloaded w the--#--necessary knowledge to perform different jobs) and straight up property of the corp. also a way modified brainscan acts as the basis for-#--the ai assistant that Current kitty inhabits. after catherine dies her ghost is able to haunt any Kitty Instance and pilot her for as--#--long as she desires (and then im torn between the idea of each kitty instance being a fully individual person of her own OR there being--#--some weird semi hivemind thing going on. idk !!!!!) which is what she does with the basic websearch assistant that williams interacts-#--with. catherine Cannot go where kitty is not and after hundreds of years stuck around [unnamed main URCR planet. lol] she--#--jumps on the opportunity for something NEW and absolutely delights in it#^ a whole lot of this would go unspoken abt in the west+williams thing beyond little nods (a bit of the excess genetic material meant to--#--test tube up a number of kitties on the colonization ship (CS HAMARY. HAVE A NAME FOR IT NOW) instead being used for williams. one of--#--the initial motivations for wests species to be recruited to the URCR being the lack of labor because of said lack of physical--#--kitties. etc etc) but i DO want to get more into the main body of the URCR bc thats where i can play toys w kitty and the engie bee rip--#--i need to develop more#the thing with catherine damning infinite kitties to corporate hell for a lifetime of financial security and only being able--#--to enjoy it (while THOROUGHLY ignoring every kitty and the way in which she profits from their turbo exploitation) for a short chunk of--#--time b4 dying anyways and then having to possess kitties for any sort of Being and experience that which they go through might be a BIT--#--harsh with the way in which she died and the exploitation of her Own labor + life b4 the kitty copyright. idkkkkk#malocclusion info#<-- the story finally gets a name <3 very on the nose but i like the sound of it
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MS ✰ Bewitched ✧ CS
───~𓆩♡𓆪~───
contains ⚠︎ smut!, strong language!, suggestive remarks!, obscene descriptions!, polyamory, hint of overstimulation, p in v (unprotected, use condoms irl), threesome, oral (m! receiving), size kink, light s&m, bondage, toys & idk a bunch of kinky stuff °~° ⚠︎
sum. Switching their clothes for a video leads to new sexual discoveries.
wc. 2.1k (2,116)
note. English is not my first language!
You watched from your place on the living room couch as Matt and Chris paced back and forth between their rooms. Seemingly exchanging clothes, laughing and talking about some type of tiktok they’re gonna film. You were only partially paying attention now—the fanfiction you were reading on your phone suddenly taking an interesting turn.
"Hey, ma?" Your head shot up at the sudden interruption, your eyes widened by a fraction when you saw their attire. They had exchanged clothes, and even their jewelleries were of the other. It’s not like they don’t wear each other’s clothes, you’ve seen them share hoodies or pants, but never fully dress as one another.
"Yeah?" You breathed out, your voice coming out a bit too shaky for your liking. "Can you please go into one of our rooms while we film a tiktok? Y’know... we can’t really show you yet." Chris said apologetically, and you nodded. "Yeah, yeah, of course, tell me when you’re done." You stood up and made your way towards Matt’s room.
"Sorry about this, sweetheart, we won’t take too long ’promise," you chuckled quietly to yourself before replying with a soft "okay" and closed the door behind yourself. Immediately plopping down on Matt’s bed as you opened your phone, ready to continue reading the fanfic.
Some people might think it’s weird to read fanfictions about your boyfriend— or boyfriends in your case, but you couldn’t deny how hot it was, how much it turned you on. The suggestive part of the fanfic began and just as you got comfortable on the bed Matt walked inside the room.
You looked up from your phone, raising an eyebrow, "you done already?" He chuckled and shook his head no, "Chris is filming his video, I’ll do it after him." You nodded, and motioned for him to come sit beside you. "You should wear bracelets more often, it suits you..." Your voice trailed off as his hand landed on your thigh, giving it a small playful squeeze, and the seemingly innocent gesture sent shivers down your spine.
"Yeah? Maybe I should get a similar one–" he paused, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw the Tumblr logo on your phone, the fanfiction left open and abandoned on the bed beside you. You looked at him confused before following his gaze, a small gasp escaped your lips before you quickly turned your phone off.
You sat up, flustered and embarrassed to have been caught red handed reading such a frisky fanfic about him and Chris. Stammering as you tried to find a good excuse as to why you were reading a smut fanfic in broad daylight – even if you could – but it only made it worse. "You read things like that? What was the name again?"
You looked at him for a solid minute before opening your mouth to speak, only getting out a flustered "what?" in response. The corners of Matt’s lips twitched into a small smirk, "what’s the name?" He repeated himself, his smirk threatened to grow wider with each passing second. "Simple solution," you whispered.
"Hm? And what happens in it?" You gulped softly, feeling your face heat up. "Do I have to? I mean, you can just read it yourself, I know you’ve got Tumblr on your phone." Matt laughed, the sound rich and amused, "yeah I do, but I wanna hear you tellin’ me about it, sweetheart." You couldn’t help but fidget slightly at the pet name, it was one of your faves.
"Uhm... It’s like, well," you stammered, "it’s about how much you and Chris look alike when you wear your caps backwards." You finally blurted out, biting your tongue as you waited for his reaction. "That’s... Interesting? So y’like it when we look alike huh?" He chuckled, thoroughly amused.
The bedroom door opened, and Chris peeked his head in. "I’m done," he walked fully inside the room, grinning and putting his hands on his hips in a mock attempt of display. "So, how do I look, ma?" You chuckled and sat up straight, "So fine, I’ll give you that, the kisses tee is just chefs kiss."
Chris grinned wider, "pirate girl tank or kisses tee?" Your jaw dropped, "how do you expect me to pick one? Also, why didn’t you wear the 'iconic' pirate girl tank?" You nudged Matt playfully, "we’re not recreating outfits... well, basically, but it’s more like how we dress and all—" you cut him off with a laugh, "okay, whatever you say, kid."
"Are you two done filming yet?" Nick popped his head in, looking annoyed, "’cause I’m so fucking hungry, and you keep telling me to stay in my room like what am I? One of your secret girlfriends?" Chris scoffed in faux annoyance, "we’ve only got one girl fyi, and no, Matt hasn’t filmed yet, but go ahead and eat if you’re about to starve to death."
Nick huffed, raising his eyebrows in dramatic disbelief, but didn’t say anything else as he walked away, mumbling under his breath about how ridiculous everything was. Suddenly, Matt spoke—breaking the silence. "I’ll be back," he gave your thigh one last squeeze before standing up to film the short video for tiktok.
Chris smirked and sauntered over to Matt’s bed where you were – still – laying on. Sitting on the edge as his hand absentmindedly started to caress your calves, "so, real talk, how do I look?" You hummed thoughtfully, "real talk? I think you look hot, like 'makes me wet' kinda hot." He let out a surprised yet amused laugh, "bold now ain’t we?" chuckling as he leaned closer.
"Mm... 'makes you wet' kinda hot huh?" He teased, a wolfish grin on his face as his gaze raked over your body appraisingly. "So, you gon’ show me how wet it makes you or do I have to see it myself." His tone wasn’t one of questioning, more like a commanding one as if you were obligated to show him either way. You felt pleasantly surprised, the fluttering in your abdomen growing tenfold.
However, Matt walked in before you could respond. Raising his eyebrows with a small smirk as he sensed the tension in the air. The room seemed warmer, more electric. That’s when Nick opened the door again, "I’ll be out for a bit–" he paused, having sensed the tension as well.
"Well, uh... Don’t be too loud? We don’t need another noise complaint from our neighbours, that’s just borderline embarrassing." With that, he closed Matt’s bedroom door, leaving you three alone. The front door clicked shut a few minutes later. Your mouth hung agape at Nick’s words.
"Damn, kid has no filter whatsoever." Chris chuckled, taking the fanny pack off and tossing it on Matt’s gaming chair. "Hey, easy with it," Matt said as he took off his cap. Putting it on his gaming desk before turning to look at you. Sensing their eyes on you, you suddenly felt a strong heat in your lower abdomen. Their gazes were enough to make you squirm.
"So, now that Nick is out," Chris looked at Matt before looking back at you, "we’ve the house all to ourselves," Matt continued for him. You nodded subtly, shifting slightly on the bed, trying not to show how in need you were. They weren’t stupid, knowing exactly what was happening with you as their handsome faces lit up with amused grins.
You squirmed, a muffled moan exiting your gagged mouth as your hips bucked and jerked when Chris pressed a button on the small remote, making the vibe in between your legs buzz louder. The intense sensation of the vibe, bound to stay precisely on your clit, was enough to make your eyes roll back.
Your ankles were bound as well as your wrists, making you unable to move much as the pleasure coursed through your body. You bit the gag, your back arching and hips rolling as you tried to get the vibe at least a millimeter away from your throbbing clit, but Matt held your hips down and Chris positioned the vibrator so it was exactly on your clit again.
"Aw, too much?" Matt pouted, jutting his bottom lip out in obvious mock sympathy. Your eyes glazed over as a tight knot formed in your stomach, your body trembling as you tried to fight the impending orgasm – knowing it would turn you dumb from how powerful it would be.
Just when you thought you couldn’t hold back anymore, Chris pressed the button until the vibe buzzed at max. An immediate jolt ran through your body as your eyes widened, tears of pleasure threatening to fall as you shut it back closed, loud muffled noises penetrating through the gag.
Your mind blanked when you felt the knot snap, the orgasm so powerful that you wondered if you could stay conscious. Noticing the slight overstimulation, Chris turned the vibe to a low buzz. The sensation bordered on overstimulating in your oversensitized post-orgasmic state – even if it was barely there. Matt chuckled as he took the remote from Chris and turned the vibe off, your body immediately limping into the mattress as the sensations stopped.
Chris gently untied your ankles from the bounds, but kept your wrists tied over your head. His fingers working deftly to remove the bounds from your pelvic area and tossed the vibe somewhere on the bed. Seeing your inner thighs quivering, covered in your juices, and your swollen, glistening folds on display made their cocks twitch.
They were already naked, not seeing the point in having clothes on, but kept the bracelet and rings on per your request. The tips of their hefty lengths were already dripping with precum from how aroused they were, swollen and taut with unfulfilled desires. Matt suddenly stood up from the bed and walked towards his closet while Chris took off the gag.
A few seconds later, Matt was back on the bed, now beside you as he helped you into a sitting position. Your gaze fell down to his hand that held a red silk blindfold before taking it back up to his face, your eyebrows raised. "Where did you even get that?" You asked with a small hint of amusement.
Matt just grinned, "bought it a while ago, been contemplating whether to use it or not, but I think now’s the best time to use it." Chris chuckled, "dude, I can’t believe y’had all this stuff in your closet, laying ’round like that." Matt chuckled and scooted closer to you, his erection bobbing obscenely as he moved. "C’mon, sweetheart, lemme blindfold you." You eagerly closed your eyes, not denying how much you liked this.
The blindfold cut off any source of light, making you feel a shudder of excitement. It was designed for plays like this so it wasn't a surprise that you couldn't see anything. The inability to see only heightened your other senses, every graze and touch of their hands on you seemed to make your body tremble and jolt.
𓆩♡𓆪
Your mind was a haze as Matt pounded into you with hard, deep strokes, and the slight difficulty breathing from Chris’ length down your throat added to the haze. Your mind fogging with pure unadulterated pleasure as they used your holes. Matt held your bound wrists, keeping you from moving as his other hand gripped your hip with bruising strength.
The obscene sounds of squelching from your sopping pussy being filled over and over again by Matt and the slurping sounds of your mouth working Chris filled the room along with the bed creaking underneath you. The position you were having intercourse in was a new one neither you, Matt or Chris had tried before.
Your neck was supported by the edge of the bed, but your head hung down it—allowing Chris to use your mouth. Matt’s pace quickened as he felt himself growing close with each spasm of your inner walls from your previous orgasms, the aftershocks still coursing through you.
Chris moaned as he felt the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each thrust down your throat, the sight of the bulge he was creating with his cock on your throat proving to be too much. You felt them twitch in your holes, their paces quickening and you knew they were close.
With guttural moans they came, one after the other. After a few seconds of shuddering over you, they finally pulled out, leaving you filled with their releases, but you knew better than to think it was over. Your suspicions were proven right when they coaxed you into a different position, but you weren’t complaining. After all, who could resist? They seemed to have you under their spell—bewitching indeed.
𓆩♡𓆪
ps. The fic mentioned in the beginning is actually one of my chratt fics. I know, I know, sneaky mf, but here's the link in case you wanna check it out<3 «Simple Solution»
Also, the beginning part of the actual smut was inspired by this «p link»
Chratt taglist: @bells-sturn @h3arts4nat @zombiesturniolo @urfavnickgirl @cwistofurr @goingtojohnkramershouseee @blahblahblahm @shoo-00 @ariana2saucyy @ksturnz @sturniolos4life16 @strnlslut @babysturniolo @ashleighpray23 @bl1ssfulbunn1e @ijustbelurkingmymen
♡ If you wanna be tagged on my future Chratt fics click «here» and interact with the post ♡
© sweetshuga
#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#fanfiction#smut#smut oneshot#oneshot#matt x reader#chris x reader#matt x you#chris x you#christopher owen sturniolo#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#christopher sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo oneshot#chris sturniolo oneshot#chris sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt smut#chris smut#chratt smut#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#sweetshugams&cs#chratt fanfic#𓆩♡𓆪sweetshuga
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"The thought of finding that one thing that's uniquely ours, only to lose it forever. What if we're only given one thing that's truly meant for us?" ha this is poetry to me.
okay so i did not expect things to twist this far, and i'm honestly loving it. matt is a liar liar, and his "friend" was his brother all this time. reader was deceived big time 😤
fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (5/?)
Part summary: With Leigh, it feels like for every step forward, you end up taking two steps back.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.600+ | Warnings Some angst, het stuff | A/N: Texts in italic indicate they happened in the past. We get an insight about R's past with Matt and a little surprise at the end.
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV
-
You'd hardly expect to meet a decent guy on the street nowadays.
Though, to be fair, it's less about meeting him and more about running straight into him. At the moment, you don't give it much thought. You distinctly remember wincing from the impact, feeling solid muscle and jutting bones, and a surge of irritation bubbles up inside you because you're not exactly having the best day. But then, the man you ran into looks up, and his face is all apologies.
He looks like he might cry if you don't forgive him, so you do. As you stand there, trying to process the situation, he notices the coffee spilled all over the floor—your coffee, which has now created a sad, dark puddle around your feet.
“Can I buy you another coffee?”
Despite the kind gesture, you find yourself shaking your head, more keen on changing out of your coffee-stained coat than sticking around any longer.
From a few steps away, his impatient friend calls out, “Are you coming, Matt?”
“Yeah, just wait a sec,” Matt responds, his attention still on you. You usually don’t trust men running into you without an agenda, but there’s something about him that tells you he didn’t mean to, and that he’s more than willing to make up for it.
“No, thanks. I got it…”
He looks unnecessarily worried as he leans in a bit closer. “You sure about that?” he asks.
His brown eyes are the friendliest pair you’ve seen in a while. And being essentially alone in this new town, they pull you in like gravity.
“Y-Yes. Just watch where you’re going next time,” you stammer, attempting to stabilize your shaky legs.
“Matt!”
Matt nods hesitantly, then mumbles, “Sorry, I have to go. Again, I'm really sorry,” before his gaze releases you, and you feel its force that held you in a vice-like grip easing away.
As you're walking away, you keep having to tell yourself not to look over your shoulder, even though every part of you kind of wants to.
You guess you must be really lonely, to cling onto the first bit of kindness someone throws your way.
-
Your deliberate attempts to bump into Leigh finally pay off one brisk Friday morning. But it’s not in the way you’ve imagined it would go.
The town is just waking up, the chill in the air biting at your cheeks as you take your routine jog through the quiet streets. You've discovered that running suits you better than yoga, mainly because it's something you can do solo, and you've always leaned towards activities where you can be by yourself. You’re tired, but you try to lift your knees higher with every stride, keeping your cadence in check.
Turning a corner, a sudden commotion catches your attention. A group of rowdy teenagers barrel down the sidewalk, loud and oblivious to anything but their own world. One of them, a bit too caught up in the fun, nearly crashes into you, forcing you to swerve unexpectedly.
In your effort to dodge, you step right into the path of Leigh Shaw.
It all happens too fast; there's no chance for either of you to do anything else. You crash into each other, the impact sending a jolt through your bodies. You tumble sideways, your arm shooting out instinctively, breaking your fall and softening the impact as you land. Leigh lets out a sharp yelp as she staggers forward from the force of the collision, a look of shock quickly spreading across her face. As she falls, her knee scrapes against the rough concrete, and when she finally sits up, there's a noticeable gash, bleeding freely.
“Oh my god, I am so, so sorry,” you blurt out, horrified at the sight. “Are you okay? Can you stand?”
She grimaces, glancing at her knee, then back at you. “Well, I've definitely been better,” she says, trying to keep her voice light despite the pain. You give her a hand up, and as she leans on you for support, you can't help but notice she's dressed in denim shorts, a blue parka, and flip-flops—not exactly the attire for a morning jog. The sun's just starting to show its face, and you're left wondering where she's headed so early, if she's not out for a run or something.
Looking around, you notice the roll-up shutters of nearby establishments are still down, indicating they won't be opening anytime soon. It’s apparent that there's nowhere immediate to find help or a first-aid kit. You scratch the back of your neck, an awkward idea coming to you.
“I don’t think there’s nowhere we can ask for help,” you start, trying not to sound too anxious about what you’re about to suggest. “I've got a first-aid kit at my place, though. It's not far. We could fix you up there, if you're okay with it?”
Leigh takes a beat, and then gives you a nod. “I guess that's my best option right now. Lead the way.”
As you start walking, Leigh instinctively grabs your arm for support. Your foot have barely hit the pavement when she suddenly grips tighter, fingers clawing into your arm as she lets out a hiss of pain. The wound must have stretched as she bent her knee to take a step, and with the way she's limping, you realize making her walk is a bad call.
“Shit, I'm really sorry,” you apologize again, the situation dawning on you. This isn't at all how you wanted to run into Leigh again, especially after trying to find a way to reconnect since the dinner in her car. “Let me get an Uber.”
Leigh starts to object, but you're already pulling out your phone. The last thing you wanted was for your attempt to help to end up hurting her more.
-
“So, where were you headed earlier?” you ask casually, hoping not to pry too much. “Doesn't seem like you were out for a run like I was.”
Leigh’s injury is more severe than you first thought; after hitting a rough patch on the pavement, her knee took the brunt of the fall. The skin is scraped away in several places, revealing angry, reddened flesh beneath.
“Grocery, or something,” Leigh mumbles, distracted and wincing a bit as you ready another dab of antiseptic for her knee. The moment the cotton touches the wound, she can't help but jerk away slightly.
“Sorry, sorry,” you murmur, soothingly, noticing she's struggling to stay still. To help steady her, you gently hold onto her calf, and that's when you feel your cheeks start to warm up. “I'll be as quick as I can,” you promise, trying to sound more confident than you feel.
“I’m okay. You're doing...fine,” Leigh sighs between clenched teeth, obviously trying to downplay her discomfort.
You know you're not fine, certainly not in the way Leigh means. All you can hear is yours and Leigh’s breathing, and your heart stuttering in your chest, because despite barely seeing Leigh in recent weeks, this annoying little crush won’t go away. It’s weird enough that she’s Matt’s wife, and you can't shake the feeling that you’re probably the last person she’d ever look at that way. Not to mention, you're not even sure if she's into women.
Once you’re done cleaning her wound, you carefully wrap a bandage around her knee. Then, you head to the fridge to grab some ice, noticing Leigh's puzzled look when you return.
“What’s that for?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.
“I have a feeling you're going to have a bone bruise after that fall,” you explain, handing her the ice wrapped in a cloth. “This should help with the pain and keep the swelling down.”
She accepts it, a small smile of gratitude on her face as she says, “Thanks.”
“No problem, it's my fault anyway.”
“It was an accident,” Leigh points out.
An accident that, if I'm being honest with myself, I was somewhat hoping for, you reflect with regret.
Leigh looks relieved as she presses the ice against her knee, eyes closing for a moment. With the immediate pain taken care of, you can't help but wonder again where she was headed earlier as you start pulling ingredients out of the fridge to whip up some breakfast.
“Hope you're hungry,” you say, flashing a smile as you fire up the stove.
“I'm fine, really,” she says, but the moment the bacon starts sizzling, she caves. “Actually, I could eat.”
With your back to her, you could smirk all you want at her change of heart. After frying up the bacon and eggs, you pull out some leftover rice and begin chopping garlic.
“What are you making?” Leigh asks suddenly from behind you.
“This is something I picked up on my travels through Southeast Asia,” you share as you cook. “Can't do bacon and eggs without it anymore. But I'll get some toast going for you.”
Leigh's face lights up, almost childlike. “Toast sounds great.”
You and Leigh settle into your meal, you with your plate of garlic rice, bacon, and eggs, and Leigh with her toast done just right alongside her bacon and eggs. She surprises you by complimenting how you cooked the eggs, noticing they're slightly burnt to a crisp around the edges.
“I've never had my eggs quite like this before,” she says.
“Oh, that?” you chuckle. “Learned the technique by accident some time ago. Got distracted and ended up leaving them on the heat a bit too long.”
She laughs too, and soon enough, you're both just talking like old friends, the conversation breezy and effortless. You begin to get a real sense of Leigh's sense of humor and it complements yours in the best way. Leigh loops back to when you mentioned visiting Southeast Asia, and you're more than happy to share your experiences, considering she's never left the country.
“...I’m pretty sure Hawaii counts, right? With the weather and everything, plus it’s really far—”
You’re still cracking up over some joke she made moments ago, and now you’re wondering if you’ll ever stop.
“No way, Leigh, it doesn’t work like that!” you get out between laughs, holding onto your stomach as you shake with laughter.
The more you talk, the more Leigh hangs on every word, making you feel surprisingly at ease. Sharing stories about places you've been and things you've seen becomes less about bragging and more about just sharing your adventures with someone who’s really listening. It's kind of refreshing, actually, feeling this free to dive into your memories with someone so interested.
That is until the topic eventually shifts to your fitness routine. It's then that Leigh offhandedly mentions, “You'll probably see more progress with the new instructor next week. I heard she’s got a certificate and all.”
You pause, fork paused mid-air. “New instructor? You’re not leading the class next week?”
Leigh simply shakes her head no.
“Then, when are you coming back?”
Leigh takes a breath before saying, “I actually quit.”
Hearing her say she’s left the studio nearly makes you spit out your breakfast. You're halfway through a bite, trying to wrap your head around the news, when suddenly, Leigh checks her phone. Before you can even dive into a million questions about why she quit, she's saying she needs to head home.
Your thoughts are spinning, but you don’t miss the opportunity to offer her a ride.
“You drive?” Leigh looks surprised.
“Yeah, just got the car this weekend,” you manage to say, still reeling from the shock that Leigh won't be at Beautiful Beast anymore.
“Are you sure? I can just call a cab,” Leigh mutters, probably noticing you're a bit out of it.
“No, really, I insist,” you say. Making her walk on that knee seems like the last thing you should do.
Leigh tries to brush it off once more, “Again, an accident.”
You ignore her, grabbing your keys from a dusty fishbowl. “Doesn't mean I won't be kicking myself over it.”
She lets out a sigh, and you can't quite tell if she's resigned or just annoyed.
-
As you pull up in front of Leigh's house for the first time, you're immediately taken in by its typical three-bedroom layout. The lawn, however, looks like it hasn't seen a mower in quite some time, giving the place a lived-in, somewhat neglected feel. You quickly get out of the car to help Leigh to the front step.
Then, out of nowhere, Leigh curses, patting down her pockets in a panic. “Fuck, I forgot my keys.”
“But someone should be home, right?” you ask.
Leigh rings the doorbell, her expression turning sour. “Yeah, my sister,” she mutters, clearly not thrilled at the prospect.
You're taken aback when, a few seconds later, it's Jules from the studio who opens the door. The sharp look they exchange isn't lost on you; it's clear there's more to the story than just Leigh coming home without her keys. You're gearing up to say goodbye, assuming Leigh will head inside, but instead, she turns to you and says, “Wait right here.”
You do as she says, glancing at the ground, shuffling your feet back and forth.
“Hi, I'm Jules, Leigh's sister. I've seen you around at Beautiful Beast. You're one of Leigh's clients?” Jules smiles at you, politely offering a hand for you to shake. You accept it and introduce yourself in return. Watching her face, you see the moment she puts it all together.
“Oh, you're the vet who Matt had—I'm sorry. It's just, I wasn't expecting to see you here, helping Leigh home.”
You knew where that first sentence was going, but you're silently thankful Jules decided to pull back and not finish it. You force a smile as you explain how you got here. “She was out for groceries, and I kind of ran into her, leading to a bit of a fall, and now—”
“No, she wasn’t,” Jules cuts in sharply.
“Sorry?”
“Leigh didn't come home last night,” she says. But before you have a chance to process this new information, Leigh returns, clutching a fifty-dollar bill.
“For the trouble,” she tells you, getting in front of Jules.
You attempt to wave it off. “Hey, you don't have to do that—”
But Leigh isn't taking no for an answer, she presses the bill into your hand. You never see it coming what happens next: she plants a quick peck on your cheek, effectively shutting down any further protests. The spot where her lips brushed against your skin tingles, and it’s all you can think about for a moment. Without waiting for you to react properly, Leigh starts herding Jules back inside the house, throwing over her shoulder a quick, “Thanks again, Y/N. Bye.”
You're left there, holding the bill in one hand, touching your cheek with the other, and staring at the closed door, suddenly very aware of how little you actually know about what's going on in Leigh's life.
-
Suzie shoots you that knowing look again as you head out of the clinic decked out in your active gear.
This time, a blush creeps up on your cheeks, memories of your chat with her about someone “making those sweat sessions worth it” floating back, and you try your best not to let your thoughts drift to Leigh. But then it hits you that she won't be there. Despite your dedication, the sheer excitement of going to the studio isn't quite what it used to be without her as your instructor.
Just as Suzie is about to lock up, the door bursts open. A man rushes in, cradling a small dog in his arms, panic written all over his face. He explains, breathless, that his pet is struggling with labor.
Suzie looks back at you. “I could call Foreman for this,” she says, already reaching for her phone. You stand there for a second, deliberating. Leigh won't be at the class; she's no longer at the Beautiful Beast.
Then, making up your mind, you hold out a hand to stop Suzie. “No, there’s no need. I've got this.”
-
It feels like you've just walked into one of those old-timey romantic movies, where chivalry isn’t dead and everything turns out way better than you could've ever hoped. In hindsight, it’s better. Because it’s real, and you're right in the middle of it, living a dream you didn't even know you had, with the kind of guy you thought only existed in those movies.
The night air is cool and light, brushing against your skin as the car slows to a stop in front of your apartment. To say the least, it's been an unexpected evening for a first date, and easily one of the best.
As Matt pulls up to your building, he turns to you, a sheepish grin lighting up his face. “Well, here we are,” he says, as if surprised you've arrived so soon.
You don’t want to say goodbye. Not yet. So you stay put in the passenger seat, doing your best to draw out the last strands of the evening.
“So, Nick was the mastermind behind all this?” you tease, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you two.
Matt chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, about that... I had no clue he asked for your number until he handed it to me and said, ‘You owe me one’.”
“He’s the perfect wingman, then?”
“I guess you could say that,” Matt agrees, smiling. “I didn't tell him about my interest in you, but Nick knew anyway. He's good at reading people, always has been.”
“I see,” you say, your gaze following the contours of his cheeks, which carry a soft pink blush. It could be from the red wine you both enjoyed at dinner, or, you find yourself hoping, it might be because of you. “Well, he has my thanks. I really thought he was the one interested in me though.”
Matt laughs, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. “No, it was always me. Since the moment I, uh, ran into you.”
There’s a moment where you both just stare at each other, tacitly acknowledging the serendipity of it all—the accidental meeting that could've ended with a simple apology and nothing more.
Yet here you are.
“You know, I'm glad it was you,” you profess, feeling a boldness that usually isn't there.
Matt breaks into a huge grin, but it's really in his eyes where you can see just how happy your remark has made him.
“Would you... maybe want to do this again? Without the running into each other part, I mean,” he says softly.
You laugh, nodding. “I'd like that. Just maybe start with coffee next time. And no spilling.”
“Deal,” he says, his grin infectious.
As you step out of the car, a proposition forms in your mind and you backtrack.
“Would you like to get that coffee now?”
-
Sometimes, you find yourself dreaming about your memories with Matt, particularly the part Leigh interrogated you about. Even though you stuck to the facts, you couldn't shake off the feeling that you were somehow deceiving her.
You wonder if this is why you haven't been able to sleep for days. That, coupled with the fact that you've been handling emergencies yourself instead of calling Foreman as you used to. Suzie has mentioned that since you're taking on all the emergency cases, you might be overcompensating your intern. You don’t tell Suzie though that your work has become a welcome distraction from the realization that your new hobby no longer holds your interest, leaving you with extra hours to fill before returning to the solitude of your apartment.
And without seeing Leigh, there’s only your own head to get your fill of her. You find yourself thinking about her now and then, about what she's been doing, wondering if she's found a new job after leaving her yoga instructor position. She crosses your mind at the most random hours of the day, take right now, for example—staring at this little 8-day-old Shih Tzu puppy in the incubator, its fur somehow has you thinking of Leigh's hair color.
The puppy was part of a litter brought in for a C-section. Tragically, its mother didn't survive, and the owner, possibly overwhelmed by the situation and the impending bills, abandoned them. Out of four puppies, this one, the runt of the litter, was the sole survivor.
“What are we going to do with you, huh?” you muse aloud, the puppy blinking back with innocent eyes. “I can't take you for myself; you'd just end up living here in the clinic with me. And let's be honest, living in a hospital can't be much fun, right? It’s not safe either, exposes you to diseases.”
You sigh, brushing its length with your forefinger. “The other choice is to send you to a shelter. I'm sure someone would fall head over heels for you and adopt you in no time. But,” you sigh, your heart heavy, “I can't guarantee that'll happen quickly, as much as we both might want it to.”
“Finding where you fit in this big world isn't easy, you know? It's like searching for that one place, or that one person, where you could simply just… belong to. But I guess when you finally find it, it feels like winning the lottery, right?”
The puppy makes a noise, automatically bringing a smile to your lips. You wonder if Leigh has ever thought of the same thing—about searching for where she belongs after losing her home and everything familiar when Matt passed away. Perhaps it's even scarier for her. The thought of finding that one thing that's uniquely ours, only to lose it forever. What if we're only given one thing that's truly meant for us?
And once it's gone, what does that leave us with?
-
One sleepless night, after deciding to bring the puppy home for a more personal touch in its care, a thought crosses your mind. What if you could restore some of what was inadvertently taken from Leigh? Maybe bring back a piece of home and purpose that seemed to have slipped through her fingers when her world turned upside down?
It’s true, the puppy's late-night energy partly nudged the thought your way, but deep down, you believe Leigh will be perfect for him. You're sure she'll adore him, and he's bound to love her just as much.
Just as you're settling back to attempt sleep again, your phone starts ringing. You blink at the screen, disbelief washing over you as you see it's Leigh calling—the same woman you've recently realized you have feelings for, and who's been on your mind just moments ago. A part of you wonders if she dialed the wrong number by mistake, but it keeps ringing, compelling you to answer.
“Leigh?” you answer, the name almost a question in itself.
On the other end, you hear her take a deep breath—an ironic move given how the call exudes a vibe of urgency. Then, she speaks, her voice clear yet carrying an undercurrent of something you can't quite place.
“Y/N Are you available to talk right now?”
“Yeah, I am. What's going on—”
“No, not on the phone. Can you meet me right now?”
You glance down at yourself, noting your sleep shorts and tee. You're so comfortable and cozy in bed, and the puppy had just gotten to sleep. It's tempting to reschedule this some other time. But the thought of Leigh Shaw on the other end of the line, coupled with the worrying nature of her request, tilts the balance. The idea of saying no, only to find out something bad happened to her, is something you know you wouldn’t forgive yourself for.
“Yes, I can meet you,” you say, hurrying your movements and snatching your jacket from the cabinet. “Where?”
-
The date doesn't end with just late-night coffee.
Matt's hand is on your ass, fingers digging in like he owns the place. You’re gripping his tie, pulling him in, again and again. Both of you are still wearing all your clothes, but they're starting to feel like barriers as you both lean into each other, striving to get as close as humanly possible.
The invitation for a nightcap, decaffeinated per his request, had both of you sitting a bit too close on the couch, sharing silly smiles over steaming cups as if you were already lost in love. When the cups were drained, conversation drifted dangerously towards the topic of sex, and that's when you caught yourself staring at Matt's lips. Before he had a chance to react, you were going for it, giving into weeks of pent-up sexual tension.
Matt's lips find their way to your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Encouraged by the heat of the moment, your fingers start to work on the buttons of Matt's shirt, eager to explore further.
But then his hands caught yours.
“W-Wait…”
You’re stunned, pulling back almost reflexively, feeling a bit embarrassed as you tried to figure out if you crossed a line.
“Did I... do something wrong?” you ask.
Matt shakes his head and then kisses you on the forehead. He further reassures you by saying, “No, no, it's not you. I just think we might be rushing things a bit. I really like you, and I want us to be sure about this, you know?”
Inside, you’re a mess of wants and needs, but as much as you want him tonight, you realize you want him even more tomorrow, and the day after. You won't rush this, especially if he's not ready. So, you nod, squashing down the throbbing between your legs as you try to concentrate on anything but his half-open shirt.
“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything,” he adds, wearing that apologetic look on his face that got you the first time.
In response, you hold Matt's face gently, giving him a quick, soft kiss on the lips. “I really like you too,” you say, despite feeling like those words pale in comparison to what you truly feel for him.
Standing up, you figure he'll say his goodbyes and head out. But instead, Matt looks up at you, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.
“I don't want to rush things,” he repeats. “But, I also don't really want to leave just yet. Would it be okay if I stayed the night?”
The request takes you by surprise, a warm fluttering sensation bubbling up inside you at the thought of him wanting to stay. “Of course, you can stay,” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. “But I hope you're okay with the couch.”
Matt laughs and starts pulling off his socks. “There's nowhere else I'd rather be.”
-
Ever since Leigh asked to meet at a gas station on the sketchier side of town, your anxiety hasn't settled. It's a part of town known for trouble, somewhere you'd rather not be, especially in the dead of night. It doesn’t matter, because you’re hopelessly driven by concern and an unspoken affection that won't let you say no to her, no matter the time or place.
You walk up to the convenience store next to the gas station, its fluorescent lights flickering ominously, almost like you've just stepped into the opening scene of a horror movie. It's dead silent, aside from a radio playing inside the store, turned up by the person manning it in a feeble attempt to fill the silence or maybe to keep company. Leigh is inside, visible through the large, pane-glass window, nursing a coffee, alone. The way she's standing, something's off.
You make your way towards her, hands buried deep in the comfort of your hoodie's pockets.
“Hey—”
She's like a coiled spring at the sound of your voice. That should’ve been your first clue.
“Why did you lie?” Leigh asks point-blank.
“Leigh, I—What do you mean?”
Leigh's face twists into a grimace that chills you to the bone, a clear sign that tonight's going down one of two paths: either you both find a way through this mess, or she cuts you out for good. But you're lost, genuinely clueless about any lie she's accusing you of. You've been straight with her, at least you think you have.
Her nostrils flare, her eyes burning holes into you as she waits for some sort of confession. But all you can give her is a dumbfounded look.
After a while, Leigh's patience wears thin. “We're not doing this here,” she growls, glaring at the lone store clerk, who seems amused and makes no attempt to hide his interest in eavesdropping on the conversation.
“Leigh, I seriously don't know what you're talking about.”
“Just come with me,” she snaps, ushering you back outside, pulling at your arm with a grip that leaves no room for argument. It's painful, the way her nails dig into your skin, but you suppose you deserve it, whatever it might be. If it helps her release her anger, you're willing to bear it.
Leigh stops, plants her hands on her hips, and just looks at you, like she's waiting for something to click in your head. “Leigh, please—” you start, but you're cut off not by her anger this time, but by the sight of her eyes glistening, fighting back tears.
“You're really going to make me say it?” she manages to choke out, before giving a humorless laugh and running a frustrated hand over her face. Before you can protest again, she thrusts a phone into your hand. It's lit up, a text conversation open and waiting. As you scroll through the messages, your mouth opens in shock. They're from Matt.
Skimming through the texts, your jaw nearly hits the ground. He's recounting your first date, detailing how the night ended with him at your place. He admits nothing happened, but not for a lack of desire. Instead, he confesses he held back because he's still wrestling with the fact that he's married to Leigh. He mentions wanting to make sure when he jumps in with you, he's not dragging any “chains” along.
He goes on, saying he felt you were on the same page, ready to go further, and implies the only reason things didn't heat up was because he had self-control. Reading this, you can't decide if Matt's just showing off or if he's trying to justify his half-steps to whoever's reading this on the other end.
“Whose phone is this?” you blurt out, the only question that registers in your brain. It turns out to be the wrong thing to say, though, as it’s precisely the spark that ignites Leigh's fury, sending it cascading over the edge.
“Don’t fucking change the subject!”
You press your lips into a thin line, your own frustration simmering. “I didn't lie to you, Leigh.” You wave the phone with Matt’s messages like some kind of proof, arguing, “He even says here nothing happened!”
“It's not just about what did or didn't happen!” she fires back, her eyes blazing. “You wanted it to happen. You were ready to go there with him. You wanted more, and you're still not owning up to it.”
At this point, keeping your emotions under wraps isn't an option anymore.
“Yes! Of course, I wanted to go there with him,” you explode, your hands coming up in the air in surrender. “I found him attractive, thought he was a great guy, and—single, Leigh! I thought he was single when I was falling for him, okay? Are you happy now?”
Leigh's response is to laugh, but it's not a happy sound. It's bitter, mocking, and it just keeps going.
You're standing there, breathing hard, your breath visible in the chilly air, when it hits you why she’s so upset: When you were telling her the details of your affair, you made it sound as if what happened—or almost happened—was just a casual fling. And Leigh, she just soaked up that version. In doing so, she somehow managed to forgive Matt, forgive you for your role in it, and even toy with the idea of being friends with you.
You made her believe it didn’t mean anything more than what she meant to him. It ripped off the bandage and thrust a knife back into her wound.
After Leigh's laughter fizzles out, the cold seems to bite a little harder, and you notice her shivering—whether from the cold or the tumult of emotions, you can't tell. She's just in shorts and a thin shirt, unprepared for the temperature drop.
Seeing her like this, vulnerable and cold, you feel the urge to just hug her and make her feel a fraction of how badly you regret deceiving her all along. Because saying “I'm sorry” feels way too small for the giant mess of feelings you're dealing with, especially the ones about her that you didn't even realize were piling up until now.
“Leigh,” you whisper, bargaining for something you don’t know.
She meets your gaze, a bit more peace in her eyes now, but that doesn't stop the tears from finally rolling down her cheeks. She's about to speak when suddenly a car pulls up in front of you, its headlights flashing across your faces, momentarily blinding you both.
A man steps out of the car, and Leigh recognizes him immediately. You do too, although it takes you a second longer to realize. Before either of you could react, he's already launching into a tirade. “Leigh, what the hell? Leaving in the middle of the night, stealing my phone—”
“Not now, Danny.”
You freeze, every fiber of your being locking onto the newcomer—because you're almost certain Leigh misspoke.
His name is not Danny.
It’s Nick.
#leigh shaw#leigh shaw x reader#sorry for your loss#sorry for your loss au#fluff#angst#the feelings are brewing and it feels like leigh is just toying me#you just wasted a heck of a woman#can everyday be wednesday night cs oh my god
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okay so idk if you’re taking request cs if ur not im soo sorry but i CRAVEEEE toxic babydaddy chris or matt like imagine yall imagine😔🙌🏾
dilemma - c. sturniolo
in which ... you can't stand chris's new girl in the picture, and you both realize how much you miss each other especially for your daughter. ( baby daddy!chris x black!fem reader )
warnings : angst, toxic!baby daddy!chris, crying, smut, riding, nipple play, unprotected piv ( wrap it freaks ), fluff in the end :3
"𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒅𝒐, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖."
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ
"alaijah baby, i need you to stay still, please!" you pleaded with your daughter, attempting to grip her unruly curls as she brushed her hair softly.
"mama, when daddy coming?" alaijah babbles, a soft smile on her face as she toys with the bottle of hairspray on the bed which keeps causing her to move around.
a lump forms in your throat at the question, but you attempt to give her a tight-lipped smile anyway. "I'm dropping you off my love, remember? we're getting ice cream on the way."
"ice cweam!" alaijah giggles excitedly, causing her to topple over the oil sheen which tumbles off the bed.
you groan and shake your head, losing the grip you had on her ponytail as you bent down to pick up the oil sheen — the thing that annoyed you was the fact that if it was her dad combing her hair, she was obedient with him. she never gave him problems when he was the one doing her hair, and it made you frustrated.
after picking the bottle up and setting it back down on the bed, you opened candy crush saga on your phone and handed it to your one year old girl, who happily took your phone and sat snug in between your legs.
with a satisfied smile, you begin to brush her hair again, thankfully having no more problems — that is, until your phone rings and you look down to see alaijah's dad trying to facetime you.
"daddy!" alaijah shrieks, a huge smile breaking out over her face.
you didn't want to talk to him, but you weren't going to deprive your daughter — so against your better judgement, you swipe up and accept the call.
"lay, hi sweetheart!" chris smiles at his daughter through the screen, and internally making your heart melt.
"daddy! hi!" alaijah giggles, scrunching her nose cutely as she waves at him through the screen, "miss you!"
"i miss you too, angel," chris says, his beam even brighter at the sight of her, "you ready for this weekend?"
"yah!" alaijah nods happily, poking at the phone, "daddy, say hi to mommy!"
rolling your eyes, you try to move yourself out of the camera's lens especially when you see chris's smug smile on the screen. "hi, momma."
you make a stank face at him and continue doing alaijah's hair, but the one year old makes a pouty face at you when she realizes you didn't answer him.
"mommy, daddy said hi!" alaijah presses, causing you to let out a sigh.
"yeah, daddy says hi," chris smirks, and you can feel your cheeks warm up despite the unwillingness of it all.
"yeah, hey," you said sharply, shooting him a glare through the screen as you're now getting started on alaijah's baby hairs.
"c'mon y/n/n, be a little nicer to daddy," chris continues, causing alaijah to giggle and you to groan.
you put your hands over alaijah's ears gauging a confused expression from her. "shut the fuck up, christopher."
chris just laughs and shakes his head as you uncover alaijah's ears, and she continues to look down at the screen excitedly — you continue watching as your daughter and chris talk for a little bit more, and you can't help but smile a few times at the way chris looked at her with so much love and admiration. it makes you wish you two had never broken up, otherwise you would've been a real family.
you pulled up to chris's house and sighed, looking at alaijah in the rearview mirror — she grinned at you excitedly as she seen that you both had arrived at her dad's house.
you quickly get out of the driver's seat of your car and open the back door on that side, unbuckling alaijah from her car seat and picking her up.
"daddy house!" alaijah beams excitedly, as you close the car door and move to the trunk where her overnight bag was.
"yes, are you excited baby?" you ask her with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, and she nodded with a giggle.
her overnight bag was on your shoulder and you internally groaned as you made your way towards the front door of his house — alaijah immediately reached out to press the doorbell, and you could feel her excited nerves radiating from her which made you smile at her again.
you almost dropped your daughter from your hands when you saw what opened the door — a blonde woman who looked to be your age, dressed in skimpy ass clothing which had you heated. you could tell she had extensions in her hair, and you scoffed at how cheap they looked.
"can i help you?" she snarks with an attitude, a hand on her hip as she gives you a once over.
"i know damn well this bitch is not..." you scoff, shaking your head, then looking back up at her, "girl, i'm here to drop off his daughter. who the fuck is you?"
"i'm his girlfriend," she says, boastful smirk on her face, and your heart drops and your face visibly hardens at this.
"did i ask, hoe?" you say to her, taking a step closer causing her to step back slightly, "get the fuck out my way before-"
"what's going on?" chris's voice suddenly comes, causing your blood to boil. damn, he looked so fine.
"you better check your bitch before i do," you say to him, causing the blonde girl to narrow her eyes at you as chris pushes her to the side.
"daddy!" alaijah says excitedly, reaching her arms out for him.
"hi baby!" chris coos to his daughter, taking her from your arms as he brings her close to him, "i missed you!"
you watch the sweet interaction with a yearning heart, but you seeth when you see the way the blonde girl looks at him with just as much adoration as you do — chris looks between both of you with an amused expression, and you could just give him a right hook right now.
"look, my daughter's here, can you both not come for each other?" chris says with raised eyebrows.
you fully turn to face him now, crossing your arms over your chest. he takes your figure up and down unashamedly, and you try to keep yourself from smirking as you realize you still had that effect on him. "that broad better not go nowhere near my baby, christopher."
"still using that full name on me?" chris scoffs with an amused smile, shaking his head. "i'll see you sunday night, alright?"
you quickly leaned up towards alaijah to press a kiss to her cheek, caressing it as she smiled at you. "i'll see you soon baby, okay? have fun."
"bye mommy, i love you!" alaijah tells you.
"i love you more."
without waiting for anyone to say anything else, you make your way towards your car, giving your hips a little extra sway as you knew chris would be drooling as he watched you walk away. you were proven right when you went to get in your car and chris had definitely been watching after you. you smirked as the blonde girl gave him a look of disbelief at the action, and you drove away, still feeling angry upon seeing her in the first place.
sunday night couldn't have come fast enough — you were bored and somewhat lonely without the comfort of your daughter with you, but you were able to run a few errands.
chris texted you and told you he would drop alaijah back off at your house, and you scoffed and only replied with an "ok." you knew it would piss him off, but how could he be the one upset?
soon, a familiar engine lowly rumbled outside of your house and you felt somewhat nervous because you knew it was chris. you heard the car door open then close, and footsteps slowly approach your porch until a knock on the door sounded.
almost too quickly you answered, and your heart warmed at the sight of chris holding your daughter in his arms tightly, her head laid on his neck with her eyes closed.
"she's asleep," chris said, swiping at his nose then nodding towards her, "can i go lay her down?"
you nodded wordlessly, stepping aside so that chris could walk in with her. he knows your house like that back of his hand ( nevermind the fact he used to live there with you! ) — he makes his way to your room, but you don't follow him.
instead, you cross your arms and sit at a barstool at your kitchen table, tapping her fingers along your arm as you wait the treacherous minutes it takes for your ex boyfriend to say his goodbyes to his daughter.
he emerges from your used to be shared room and grins at you, causing you to narrow your eyes at him. "what the fuck are you looking at?"
"i know you're still mad, y/n," chris shrugs nonchalantly, taking slow deliberate steps towards you.
"boy what are you talking about?" you say with a roll of your eyes, crossing her arms tighter on your chest.
"you're mad about lexi," chris says, egging it on, as he knows you're seething right now.
"oh, so the bitch got a name now, too?" you say, scoffing and shaking your head.
"you mad cause i'm fucking another bitch?" chris smirks, and you whip your head up at him at this remark.
without any warning, you stand up and quickly walk over to chris, yanking him by the arm and pulling him towards the couch in the living room — she shoves the man back on it, immediately going to straddle him as he looks up at her with a smirk and an amusement in his eyes.
"y'know lay's asleep, right?" chris tsks, rubbing the sides of her bare thighs which caused goosebumps to raise on her skin.
"then you better shut the fuck up," you say.
you smashed your lips onto chris's, having been craving this feeling again for so long — his hands immediately went to grope your ass which prompted a gasp to leave your lips and chris to slip his tongue inside your mouth.
you grinded down against his hard on, which you felt poking through his jeans as it so desperately wanted to be free. never breaking eye contact with him, you lifted your his shirt above your head and threw it behind you, and chris went to unclip your bra causing your perfectly round breasts to spill out.
"fuck, i missed seeing your pretty tits, ma," chris groans, immediately attaching his lips to your left tit whilst he massages the other.
"mhm chris," you breathe out, throwing your head back as he switches, giving attention to the other tit.
you grind down on him again, making the both of you moan at the contact. "pull your pants down."
you get up and take your shorts off, also giving chris enough time to slip out of his jeans and boxers, revealing his large, veiny cock which already leaked with precum — your mouth salivates at the sight.
you pull down your panties revealing your wet cunt, to which chris lets out a groan and strokes himself, but you narrow your eyes at him and smack his hand away, going to hover over his cock.
your hands find their way to chris's shoulders, latching onto them as you slowly sink yourself onto him, pulling a moan from the both of you.
"fuck, you're so big!" you whine, the stretch burning being that you haven't felt him inside you in a long time.
"so tight baby," chris groans in your ear, guiding you with his hands.
once he's fully inside you, you begin to move back and forth on his cock, the veins in his hands now prominent with the grip he held on your sides. "fuck baby, just like that!"
"you feel so good, oh my gosh," you moan out, throwing your head as you pick up your rhythm, bouncing up and down on his cock.
chris meets you halfway, thrusting up into you pulling multiple whines from you as he hits your sweet spot over and over again.
"fucking me so good ma, i missed your pussy," chris moans, leaving sloppy kisses to your neck.
"m'close, christopher," you moan out, keeping your steady pace.
"yeah?" chris groans in your ear, "come on baby, let go fa me."
it doesn't take you long before your orgasm comes crashing through you, your juices spilling over chris's cock and a loud moan of his name falls past your lips.
this sends him over the edge too, and hot spurts of his seed spill inside of you, mixing your juices together. he helps both of you ride out your orgasm, then you quickly get off of him to catch your breath.
he pulls you back towards him and shoves a finger inside your pussy to keep his cum in there, eliciting a gasp from you as you look at him with disbelief whilst he grins at you.
"what the fuck?" you gasp out.
"need my seed inside you, so you know who's yours," chris grins at you.
he takes his finger out then stands up, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the bathroom — he wordlessly grabs a towel and wets it, and you can feel tears from in your eyes as he does so.
none of this meant it was going to last long — he was going right back to the same boyfriend he was before, which was the ultimate reason you broke up in the first place. but you couldn't help the way you still loved him.
"please don't cry," chris says, breaking you out of the trance you didn't realize you were in.
"why shouldn't i, chris?" you sniffle, as he wipes your legs delicately, "it's not like we're getting back together."
chris could feel his heart break at the words you said, causing him to hang his head — it was his fault, and he couldn't believe he'd ever let someone like you go. he was so scared of fucking up, that he fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him.
"i miss you," you admit.
"i missed you even more, y/n," chris says, lifting your chin so that you could see in his eyes. and for once, there was a trace of sincerity in those blue depths. "i can't believe i broke our family up like this. i fucked up really bad, baby. but i want us to be a family."
"you mean that, baby?" you look up at him with a smile, and he wipes the tears away from your eyes, nodding.
"of course, ma. i love you so much."
he leans down and places a kiss to your lips — but this time it was sweet, but yearning. he missed both of his girls, and he was glad he had them back.
after cleaning you up chris grabs your hand again and leads you towards the bedroom, where alaijah is sound asleep in the middle of where you both used to lay.
you climb on side and chris on the other, and as if sensing the presence of her dad, alaijah moves towards chris like a magnetic touch, and he puts his arm around his daughter looking down at her with nothing but love and admiration.
you smile at him with your head propped up on the pillow, and he looks at you — he affectionately taps your nose, causing you to giggle as you take his hand, placing a soft kiss to it.
"goodnight, baby," you tell him, and he leans in to place another kiss to your lips.
"goodnight, my love," chris says back.
you get under the covers with them, moving close towards alaijah in the process to wrap your own arm around the girl, too — chris places another sweet kiss to both of your foreheads, finally at peace knowing he was with his number one girls again.
( lilly's section 💌 )
two fics in one night, who is she😳🙏? i hope y'all enjoy this, i love u so much muah💌.
@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @guccifrog @junnniiieee07 @astrowh0r3 @v33angel @ilovechrissturniolo1 @e1ias3 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @eyeliketoeatpoosay @sturn777 @stasiesturn @prettypinkprincess15 @breeloveschris @summerssover @mayhem-72 @riasturns @chrissturniolossidehoe @moonk1ss3d @v33angel @h3arts4harry @stargirll567 @bitchydragonparadise @heartsforchrisandmatt @pepsienthusiasts @tillies33ssss @thenickgirl @sturnprime @summerssover @k4di333
#chris sturniolo x you#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris x reader#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo smut#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#smutty smut smut#eventual smut#fluff#chris sturniolo angst#angst#chris sturniolo fluff
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How are you ???💝 I looooove 💕your writing so much can please ask something about the daddies of them all Elijah mikaelson ❤️🫦? But it will be kinda kinky🫠🤭 .... Reader told Elijah about their suit kink and sir kink and Elijah surprised them one night with everything they have told him ,every fantasy about being tied up with his tie while he still in the suit until the end and some other kinky element like hair pulling, spanking,of course biting (🧛🏻♀️)
And thank you so much lovely for your hard work and amazing writings 🫂🤍
Please Sir
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
You meet Elijah on a dating app, needing his help to fulfill a fantasy, and he is happy to oblige.
♡♡ Thank you for the request @b1tchy! You want kinky? You get kinky! ♡♡
4.2k words - Warnings: smut, barely a plot, size!kink, sir!kink, suit!kink, mild bondage, rough sex, {very}dom!Elijah, anal play {with toy}, overstim, spanking, little bit of biting and blood drinking, hair pulling, oral (m receiving), praise kink, fluff && aftercare…
{Elijah Mikaelson Tag-List }
@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv
@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming
@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse
@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2
@itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury
@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28
@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy
@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson
@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer
Elijah Mikaelson had a lot of money and time on his hands, yet even he was surprised at how little it had taken to get you here, naked in his bed with your legs spread wide and your face full of desperation and need.
He met you on a dating app of all places, you were seeking an older man to fulfill some sort of daddy fantasy that he was more than willing to help you with. The two of you had been talking for weeks, slowly growing to know each other until last night when he finally had asked you to meet him.
And when you saw him... when you saw his wealth, his power, and his good looks, you fell right into his arms.
He was such a man, the way he carried himself and the way he commanded a room. The way his voice was low and raspy and the way he moved, with purpose. His eyes, oh god his eyes, they were so intense as they held yours.
You loved his voice and the way his lips curled into a smile when you said something he liked. The lines around his eyes crinkled and the corners of his lips turned up.
The way his arms were strong and muscular and the way he touched you, always gentle, yet always firm. His fingers, his hands, the way they were so large and masculine, they made your body weak and hot.
You knew it wouldn't take much convincing for you to get in his bed; an honest invitation would have done just fine. But he took you out anyway, buying you anything you wanted and showering you with praise and affection. He listened intently when you spoke and he remembered what you said.
The two of you had chatted about your likes and dislikes. You weren't surprised when he told you he enjoyed being in control and the thought made you even more eager to be under him.
Now here you were, naked and desperate, begging him for more. He was still dressed and watching you, and the way he was staring was making your body feel hot.
You really liked him in a suit, it was so formal and proper, but somehow that made it more enticing. The only skin showing was his forearms. It was almost torture the way he was moving so slow and taking his time, the way he was looking at you and taking in every inch of your body.
"You look so lovely," he told you.
"Please, sir," you moaned, feeling your core ache as the words left your lips. You had called him that a few times in your texts and he seemed to like it.
He tilted his head and studied you, that beautiful smile returning to his face. "So impatient. Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll give you exactly what you need."
His voice was like velvet, his pretty accent and his words smooth. It was music to your ears, and the words sent a jolt of excitement through your body.
You watched him slowly undo his tie, taking it off and wrapping it around his hand. Your body shivered in anticipation.
"Come here," he said, beckoning to you with his finger.
You did as he said, crawling over the bed, letting him pull you into his lap. He looked into your eyes as he wrapped the tie around your wrists, securing them behind your back.
"Is this alright?" He asked.
"Yes," you nodded, smiling and giving him the approval to continue.
He kissed your lips softly, his hand finding the back of your neck as he pulled you into him. You were melting into his touch, and the feeling of his lips on yours made your whole body buzz with pleasure.
The contrast of you being fully naked in his lap, and him being completely dressed, made the situation all the more intense. You had told him that you liked the feeling of being dominated and exposed and he was certainly living up to your expectations.
He broke away from the kiss, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Do you like that, darling? Do you like being bound for me?"
"Yes sir," you whimpered, nodding quickly.
"Good girl," he replied, kissing the skin below your ear before moving his kisses lower.
You gasped as he began to kiss down your neck and chest. His lips were soft and gentle, leaving a trail of pleasure as he went.
You squirmed in his lap, the heat and wetness between your legs becoming unbearable. You wanted to touch him, and you wanted him to touch you, and it was making you so impatient. You closed your eyes and let out a shaky moan as his lips wrapped around a nipple, sucking and teasing.
Your hands twisted in the restraints as you fought the urge to pull them free and run your hands through his hair.
"So responsive," he muttered, his breath hot against your skin.
You let out a gasp as he gently bit down, causing a small sting, the warmth and wetness between your legs increasing.
You were sitting so nicely on his lap, his little toy to do as he pleased. He held your hips still with one hand, keeping you from grinding down on his hard cock. He chuckled at your desperate attempts to find friction. He made your body ache, your lips parted as soft noises left you.
"Will you behave and be patient, or do I have to punish you?" He asked, nibbling along your jaw and whispering in your ear.
You bit your lip and looked at him. Your eyes wide and pleading, "I'll be patient," you stuttered out, hoping that's what he wanted to hear.
You really did want to be a good girl for him, but the idea of him punishing you made your pussy spasm and your cheeks flush with heat.
"Sir," he corrected you, smirking as he watched your pupils grow wide. He didn't even need to compel you to earn that reaction.
"S-sir," you replied obediently, feeling your face burn hot at the realization of your error.
"That's better," he said, his smirk spreading into a pleased smile. You seemed to really like his stern tone.
He leaned in and kissed you again. It was gentle and sensual, his warm lips moving and inviting yours to do the same. You met his kiss eagerly, hoping he was satisfied with how obedient you were trying to be.
"Now, I need some help, will you help me?" He asked, his voice soft.
"Of course, sir," you replied instantly, desperate to help him in any way.
He was so close to you, his hands rubbing your sides, his mouth only an inch from yours. His breath was hot against your lips and the way he was looking at you, with those dark and lustful eyes, was driving you crazy.
"Will you use those pretty lips on me?" He asked, his voice quiet and deep.
"Y-yes sir," you agreed, feeling your heartbeat quicken at the prospect.
"Mmm," he hummed, the corners of his lips turning up as he watched you squirm and whimper in his lap. "Then get on your knees, show me what you can do."
Your body was buzzing as he helped you get down on the floor. You sat back on your heels, your ass resting on your feet, your back straight, and your chest out.
He ran a hand through your hair, his other hand resting on his thigh as he sat on the edge of the bed. His gaze was heavy and intense, and you felt yourself grow weak as his eyes studied every inch of your body.
He watched you for a moment, admiring you as you knelt before him, arms restrained and completely under his control. Your pretty face flushing as he teased you. He was savoring every second of it, storing the images and the feeling of you in his mind for the future.
He unbuttoned his pants and took himself out, stroking his hard cock slowly in front of you, letting the tip brush against your lips.
"Open up," he ordered, his voice low and commanding.
You did as he said and opened your mouth. He watched as your pretty lips formed a perfect little circle, and your tongue slipped out, eagerly waiting for him.
"That's my girl," he purred, stroking the head along your tongue, letting it rub against the flat surface and teasing the entrance of your throat.
He tugged on your hair, pulling your head forward as he pushed his cock into your mouth, the thick shaft disappearing into your throat. You were so pretty as you took it, tears forming in your eyes, never breaking eye contact.
He smiled down at you, watching your expression and feeling the way your mouth worked around him. His free hand gripped the sheets, the other holding your head, using it to pull you forward and push his cock deeper, all the way to the base.
He kept your head there, letting your nose press into his skin and his balls rest against your chin. You let out a muffled squeal as his cock hit the back of your throat, tears running down your cheeks and saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.
He pulled back and allowed you to breathe before repeating the motion, holding your head in place as he fucked your face. You were struggling not to gag and choke, your spit leaking down his shaft and dripping down his balls.
"Good girl, taking me so well," he praised, his voice husky and laced with pleasure.
He found it very pleasing; the way you wanted to serve him so much. He enjoyed the tears on your cheeks as you struggled and gagged on his cock, he had never seen anything so beautiful.
You could feel him getting close, the way his hips were beginning to jerk and the way his fingers were digging into your scalp. His eyes were glazed over, his face was flushed, and his lips were parted, moaning and breathing heavily.
You looked up at him, hollowing your cheeks, making sloppy wet noises as you bobbed your head. You could feel him pulsing on your tongue, and the way his body was growing tense was encouraging you.
"Fuck," he hissed, his eyes shut and his head back.
His taste flooded your mouth, the salty liquid filling your throat. You swallowed it all, keeping your mouth sealed around him, giving soft little gulps and sucks until there was nothing left.
He finally let go of your hair, his cock slipping out of your mouth, followed by a string of spit. He watched as you licked the mess from your lips and chin, looking up at him with those big doe eyes.
"Was I a good girl, sir?" You asked, licking your lips again.
He smiled and reached into his front pocket, pulling out his handkerchief and gently wiping the mess from your chin and mouth. You were such a vision. A vision he planned to keep for a long time.
"Very," he replied, cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb across the delicate skin.
You smiled, feeling a wave of pride and satisfaction wash over you. The word was so simple, but it was enough to make your chest swell and the butterflies in your stomach flutter.
"I think you deserve a reward," he said, pulling you up off the floor and onto his lap again.
You gasped at the sensation of your soaked pussy rubbing against the smooth fabric of his suit pants, and the way his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, spreading them wide.
"Sir," you breathed, looking at him with wide, wanting eyes.
He was smirking, the corners of his lips curling up and his eyes dark and hooded. He was enjoying the way your body was moving and twitching, the way your hips were rocking and the way your cunt was leaking onto his pants.
"So needy," he said, leaning in and kissing your neck.
You felt his teeth graze against the sensitive skin, then he gently bit down, sinking his fangs into the flesh. You let out a small yelp, feeling a mix of pain and pleasure as the blood trickled from the wounds and down your chest.
His tongue trailed up the bloody path, licking every drop before his lips pressed against yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth.
"Do you like that?" He asked, breaking the kiss.
"Mhm," you replied, nodding quickly and pressing yourself into him, your hands twisting and struggling against the restraint.
"You're such a pretty little thing, so responsive," he praised, kissing your neck and leaving little bites all the way down to your chest. "but you must be patient,"
You took a deep breath and did your best to stay still. It was hard with him touching and kissing you the way he was. His fingers were moving towards the apex of your thighs, the tips ghosting across your heated and swollen skin. He smiled against your neck as you whined, wanting more.
"I want you to lay down on the bed, with your pretty little ass in the air," he told you, his voice soft and his breath warm against your skin.
You nodded and tried to awkwardly climb off of his lap, his hands on your waist guiding you. You managed to get onto the bed without falling, laying down on your stomach with your hands still tied behind your back. You turned your head to the side so you could watch him.
He stood and walked over to the bed, his eyes traveling the length of your body. You looked so pretty, naked and tied up for him, ready and eager for his touch.
He leaned over you, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you back towards him. Your ass was raised high, the wet heat of your pussy on full display.
"Look at this," he hummed, running a finger between the lips, watching the way they parted and glistened, showing him how much you needed him. "So needy," he said, pushing the finger into you slowly.
His leaned down over your body, his chest pressed against your back, his lips next to your ear, and his voice was like a caress, soothing and sweet.
"You're such a good girl for me," he hummed, pulling the finger out and sliding two back in, pumping them slowly, feeling the tightness and the way your walls twitched around him.
You moaned and closed your eyes, feeling his hot breath on the back of your neck. Your hands were stuck between the two of you, completely at his mercy, his body keeping you in place.
"Sir, please," you whimpered, wiggling in his hold, trying to get more of his touch.
His fingers slowly withdrew from your pussy, moving their way up and finding your other hole, circling the tight ring and massaging it, spreading the slick wetness around.
You whined and bucked back against his touch, and he gave your ass a firm smack. "Behave," he warned, his voice stern.
"S-sorry, sir," you apologized, your cheeks burning as you squirmed and whined under his touch.
He pressed the tip of his finger in, just barely penetrating, feeling the resistance as your hole tried to pull him in. He pulled back, spreading the slick over his finger and pressing in again, a bit harder, this time pushing past the muscle and earning a moan from you.
"You like that, sweetheart?" He asked, pushing his finger all the way in, feeling the heat of your tight ass.
"Y-yes sir," you stuttered, trying to stay still as his finger moved inside of you, stretching the muscle and exploring the sensitive nerves.
He smirked, pulling his finger out and lubing it up again, this time pushing in two, slowly fucking your ass as you whined and wiggled under him.
"Sir, it's too much," you cried, the burning feeling from the stretch making your legs shake.
"I'll decide what's too much," he corrected you, his voice low and full of authority.
He held his fingers still, letting you get used to the fullness. He rubbed a hand over your lower back, feeling the tension in your muscles.
"Relax," he coaxed, his voice soft and sweet.
"Y-yes sir," you replied, the words shaky as you did your best to relax your body.
"Stay just like this," he ordered, leaving the bed for a moment.
You laid there obediently, not moving a muscle, despite the aching desire for friction. You could hear him opening a drawer, rummaging through it and picking something out.
You desperately wanted to look and see what he had gotten, but you stayed still. You felt the mattress dip under his weight as he came back. You could feel him watching you, and you were growing impatient and needy, wanting him to give you more.
He placed a hand on the small of your back, steadying you. You heard a bottle opening, and then the sensation of something cold and wet pressing against the ring of your asshole.
"Sir," you moaned, feeling the smooth rounded surface of a plug pressing into you.
He slowly pushed the toy in, the cold glass stretching your ass and filling you, the base settling between your cheeks.
"Beautiful," he purred, his eyes taking in the sight before him.
Your ass was up in the air, the base of the plug nestled between your cheeks, a steady stream of arousal leaking from your pussy and down your thighs.
He gripped your ass, spreading the cheeks, watching the plug move slightly inside of you, the tight muscles twitching and clenching. He leaned forward, his tongue running up the back of your thigh, licking up the slick and savoring the taste.
"Mmm," he hummed, the sound muffled as his mouth met your skin.
His hands moved up your body, gripping and squeezing the flesh of your hips, his thumbs pressing into the dimples on your lower back. He could see the tension in your muscles, the way your hands were gripping the restraints and pulling on them.
"How does it feel, darling?" He asked, his voice low and sensual, his mouth pressed against the curve of your ass.
"Feels good, sir," you whimpered, pushing your ass back towards his face, wanting more of his attention.
"What do you need?" He asked, his tongue licking up the crease and his lips brushing against the smooth glass.
"More, sir," you moaned, the plug inside of you shifting slightly.
"Do you want my cock?" He asked, his teeth grazing the supple flesh of your ass.
"Yes sir," you whimpered, his words causing your pussy to throb.
"Such a greedy little thing," he said, his voice amused and a bit patronizing.
He gave your ass a few more squeezes, and then his hands were gone. He stood up and began to take his clothes off, carefully laying his shirt and jacket on the chair and folding his pants and putting them on top of the other clothes.
You watched him the entire time, enjoying the view as he slowly revealed his body. Even the way he got undressed was refined and elegant.
He got back on the bed, his body pressed against yours, the skin of his chest rubbing against your back. You could feel his cock, hard and ready, pressing into your thigh.
His hand gripped the plug and tugged gently, pulling it out slightly then pushing it back in. Your ass clenched around the toy, and your eyes fluttered shut.
He chuckled, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. He repeated the motion, slowly fucking you with the plug. You were whining and moaning, squirming and writhing beneath him.
"Is this what you want?" He asked, his voice rough and low. "To be filled up like a pretty little slut?"
You nodded and whimpered, your eyes still closed, lost in the feeling.
"Say it," he ordered, his teeth grazing the soft skin of your shoulder.
"I want to be filled, sir," you answered, your voice shaking.
"Good girl," he purred, pleased with the response.
He pulled back and slowly sunk his cock into your dripping pussy, the fullness making your body shake and your eyes roll back. You were moaning and squirming, but he kept his hand on your back, holding you in place.
His hips moved in a slow and deliberate rhythm, groaning at how wet and warm you were. Your walls were squeezing his cock, sucking him in and begging him to stay.
His fingers grazed over the plug, gently tugging on it and watching the way your ass stretched to accommodate it. It was almost hypnotic, the way the muscles twitched and clenched.
You were making all sorts of delicious sounds, your body writhing and squirming under him, your pussy gripping him like a vice.
He picked up his pace, fucking you harder, his hips slamming into you. His grip on your hip was bruising, his other hand holding the plug, slowly pumping it in and out of your ass.
He watched your hands twist and clench, the soft skin turning red and raw from the tie rubbing against it. He wanted to keep you like this, all night long, tied up and stuffed full, unable to escape his attention.
Your body was tensing, and your eyes were shut tight. Your mouth was open and gasping, the noises coming out sounding like sobs.
He felt his own body start to tremble, and the coil in his stomach growing tighter. His hips were snapping faster, and his hand was pulling the plug harder, stretching your tight ass and making you cry out.
"Sir," you panted, trying to warn him, the pleasure building and building until it finally erupted.
"That's it," he cooed, feeling your orgasm wash over you, your pussy spasming around him, making his thrusts messy and sloppy.
He continued to fuck you through it, chasing his own release, watching your thighs shake and listening to your cries. You were so pretty when you came.
"Sir," you whimpered, the feeling becoming too intense. "It's.. too much.."
"Just one more," he coaxed, his hand stroking up and down your spine, easing the tension.
"Please sir," you whined, your body trembling.
"I know, sweetheart," he hummed, his cock pounding into you, the wet squelching sounds echoing off the walls.
He reached out and untied your wrists, rubbing the marks left behind. Your arms immediately moved beside your head, gripping the sheets and holding on for dear life.
He kept the same brutal pace, his balls slapping against you, and the bed rocking. You were a sobbing mess, the pleasure becoming overwhelming, the pressure and friction building until it finally broke.
"Elijah!" You cried, his name coming out choked and broken.
"Good girl," he praised, the praise washing over you and making you shiver.
His hips were stuttering, his body tensing, and the sound of your name falling from his lips sent another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.
He collapsed onto your back, panting and trying to catch his breath. You could feel his cock still twitching, his hips slowly moving, riding out the high.
He placed kisses along the nape of your neck and across your shoulders, his fingers interlacing with yours, bringing the back of your hand to his mouth.
"So pretty," he hummed, the warmth of his breath tickling your skin.
He leaned back and slowly pulled the plug out and tossed it aside, making you moan and shudder.
He laid on his side next to you, watching the rise and fall of your chest, the way your breathing was beginning to slow. He ran a hand through your hair, the locks damp with sweat.
You turned and looked at him, his expression was soft and sweet, and you could see the adoration in his eyes. He smiled, and you couldn't help but smile back.
"I hope I didn't hurt you," he said, his fingers brushing over the red mark left by the tie.
"No, I'm alright," you assured him.
He leaned forward and kissed you, his lips gentle and warm. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing across the skin.
You melted into his touch, your body relaxing and going limp. You felt him smiling against your mouth, and you couldn't help but smile too.
"I'm glad," he said, his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes boring into yours.
You could get lost in those deep brown eyes, the way they were looking at you with such affection and love. You were still surprised by the intensity of his feelings for you, the way he seemed to worship you, and treat you as though you were a treasure.
You laid your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat soothing you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. He smelled of soap and spice, and you nuzzled his chest, enjoying the closeness.
He smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand moving up and down your arm. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have you.
"We should clean up," he suggested, his fingers tracing small circles on the skin of your shoulder.
You didn't respond, and he looked down to see you had already fallen asleep, the exhaustion catching up with you. He chuckled softly, admiring the peaceful look on your face.
He pulled the blanket up and over the two of you, covering your naked bodies and soon joined you in perfectly contented slumber.
#elijah mikaelson#the originals#the vampire diaries#vampire diaries#tvdu#elijah mikaelson smut#elijah mikaelson imagine#elijah mikealson imagine#elijah mikealson#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikealson x reader#tvd#the vampire diaries x you#the vampire diaries x reader#the vampire diares imagine#the vampire diaries imagine#the originals imagine
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🥂 the f1 boys... after an arguement
MEET THE CAST. CL 16 ◦ CS 55 ◦ LN 4 ◦ MV 1
VIDEO DESC. hey guys ! welcome to the start of what i hope to be a long series. i would love for you guys to request something you would like to see, so don't be shy to leave something in my inbox. also please let me know if the graphic above is good, since i would like to continue it for the series
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ᡣ𐭩 ⎯⎯ CHARLES LECLERC 16
" you're being ridiculous ! " Charles shouts, slamming his hands down on the marble and startling you with the loud echo of his palms against the counter.
" me ? " you mumur under your breath, leaning towards him on the opposite side of the kitchen island, " i'm the ridiculous one ? you're the one who was getting drooled on by your ex-girlfriend . " you snarled and stomped your feet.
" je ne peux pas, je ne peux pas- je ne peux pas avoir à nouveau cette fucking conversation avec toi . mon Dieu . " [ i can't, i can't- i can't have this fucking conversation with you again. my God] He ran his hand through his hair and watched as you gaped at him, slowly translating the words in your mind .
"of course," throwing your hands up in the air, you move away from the kitchen and rush down towards the foyer, "it's my fault, it cannot possibly be you, who made a goddamn mistake ?"
you collected your purse and keys, the metallic fob jingled obnoxiously against the bowl, "no it can't becau- what are you doing ? " Charles stopped mid sentence, eyes widening .
Squinting your eyes at him you shook the metal in your hand, "out."
"where is out ? je te prie de te le dire ? " [ pray tell thee ]
"anywhere but here, i need time charles." you mumured, itching to reach out and take his hand as you breathed heavily yet the anger that was bubbling up to a boil had settled into a seething magma, already solidifying into scathing stone.
"time ? " he spluttered, latching onto your bag that had just been slung onto your shoulder, "for what ?"
"for the clocks to reset." you sassed, dropping the clutch into his hand, "god. i'll be back."
the sun had begun to set by the time you had pressed in your combination into the keypad and attempted to silently pad into the apartment.
lest to say, that didn't work, because as soon as the door clicked open and the jingle of the lock had ceased, the sound of steps bounding up to you was following shortly after.
"tu es de retour, Dieu merci, tu es de retour." [ you're back, thank god you're back ] Charles hugged you tightly, hands winding around your waist to hold you close, the comfort of your heartbeat in time with his made him slump over you with relief.
you patted his back slowly, smiling inwardly, "yeah, i'm back. i told you i would be." pressing kisses to his neck but stopped short when small droplets began to wet your top.
"charlie," you sighed, pulling away to hold his red face in your hands. he sniffled and kept his gaze down on where his hands gripped your hips. his fingers fiddled with the hem of your clothing as his bottom lip wobbled and fresh tears bubbled at his lashline.
"charles ." you tried again, rubbing your thumbs against his temple, "why are you crying ? " he sniffed again and shook his head slowly, already curling around you again, going against the gentle force you applied on his face.
"pensé que" [ thought that ] he started, taking a stuttering breath, "thought that you wouldn't come back."
Your heart shattered, "why ?" with a burning throat, you blinked quickly and listened patiently.
"i was so mad, you were mad." charles bit his lip, despite the skin already being rosy and swollen, most likely from his growing worry throughout the day, "i wouldn't have blamed you, if you didn't come back. "
"honey ? " you call out, smiling gently when he finally met your eyes despite the pang that coursed through your body when you noticed the harsh red lines that sat stark in his eyes, "i would never leave you. "
"you wouldn't ?"
"no-" you choked back a sob, "no, why would you think that." scolding him, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you, trapping him in your embrace, "stupid, stupid french man." you grit out, salty streams dripping down your face.
"you're right. " he laughed wetly, rubbing a large palm down your back when you begin to sob laboriously.
"i love you," you detach from him quickly, pecking his lips, his eyes, each and every individual freckle littered on his nose and cheeks, "i love you so much- even when that bitch is slobbering over your arm."
"chérie" he starts, but presses his lips together when you pause in between your smooches to arch an eyebrow at him, "i love you too."
ᡣ𐭩 ⎯⎯ CARLOS SAINZ 55
the sun was beating down on the yacht as the crsytaline blue waves lapped at the pristine white of the boat.
you lay on the sun bed, sunglasses propped up on your head as your eyes twitched, watching as carlos and some random chick were talking on the deck.
it was the days leading up to the monaco grand prix, and since it was easiest to procure a yacht here, the boys thought to host a party, where drinks, dancing and daquiri were a must.
so as the music blasted and almost 20 other people were chatting and moving their bodiees to the music, you were busy seething as the girl ran a hand up carlos' salty, sea water covered bicep.
though you stayed away, book disgarded on your exposed stomach whilst your hands twitched with undisclosed rage at your side.
it was when you noticed that even though your boyfriend glanced down at her fingers, he made no move to push it away, that you decided to get up from your place and saunter towards them.
"-wow you're so strong, it must be so hard to drive an f1 car."
"uhm-"
" hi." you gritted out, lacing your arm with carlos', who stood frozen in his spot, "if you would so kindly, stop humping my boyfriend- i would really appreciate it."
the girl stared at you, mouth opening and closing dumbly.
" you can go do that-" you pointed to the throng of the party, where lando was dj-ing, "over there."
she scoffed and walked away, but not before she winked at the driver on your arm and shot you a dirty glare.
as soon as you were sure that she had left, you slowly turned to carlos, who was already gawking at you, "you have 5 minutes to explain, why and how she felt that she could be doing that to you."
he spluttered, eyes igniting with annoyance, "that was the daughter of one of our biggest sponsors- why would you do that ? mujer loca" [crazy woman]
"i'm the crazy one ?" you asked incredulously, "so i'm meant to watch as you let girls just, what? sex you up?"
"oh come on, you know she wasn't." he rolled his eyes, "and what could i do? if i told her no, she could get me fired."
you crossed your arms at him, "so what you're saying, that no matter what, your job is more important than me and my feelings ?"
" Ay, ¿por qué siempre dices eso? " [ay, why do you always say that ? ] carlos shook his head and held your shoulders, "you need to understand that your feelings are important to me, but so is my career."
you shake your head, "but it's all the time carlos, all the damn time." he tilts his head, large brown eyes conveying his confusion, "it's always, 'we can't go here, its bad for my reputation" or "i'll be back late, the office needs me" . what about when i need you ?"
" i can't go everywhere, it's unsafe, you know that. and i'm not always out late. " he reasons, shrugging.
" no- firstly, it was a cafe, you aren't in danger at a fucking cat cafe. and secondly, name one time this entire month that we ate dinner together."
you wait, wedged foot tapping against the laminated wood beneath your sole. carlos stills for a moment, wracking brain before looking at you again and cringing.
"- see ! "
"- i'm sorry cariño !"
you shake your head pushing away his hands, "not this time- i won't forgive you. i deserve better. "
carlos watches, gobsmacked and panicked when you walk away, already collecting your things as the yacht docks.
the bell to the cafe that you sat in jingles quietly, though you ignore it and continue to pet the sweet, grey cat that purrs in your lap whilst sipping a warm tea.
a shadow forms infront of you, and you look up, eyes widening, "carlos- what are you doing ?"
he pants, bracing his hands on his knees as he doubles over- you instictively reach out and take his hand.
"i-" he keens and pants, "i looked everywhere for you, the apartment, all the shops that you normally go to, landos place, max's place, charles' place. then i remembered that you sent me the link for the directions here." carlos leans down to kiss your head, cradling your face in his palms, "gracias a Dios te encontré". [ thank god i found you. ]
you motion to the seat infront of you, letting the cat that now watched interestedly onto the floor so you could tuck your legs beneath the table, "what do you want ?"
carlos sighs, hanging his head before taking your hand and intertwining your fingers, he rests his forehead on your conjoined hands, "i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry. i told fred that- that i don't want to be talking to sponsors, y'know-" he looks up at you, kissing your hand gently, "like that, especially on my down time. and that i won't be staying in the office after 5pm."
you blink at him slowly, tightening your fingers, "oh.. good."
he finds your embarrassed gaze, and locks your eyes together, his caramel pools glistening beneath the sunlight that streamed in through the large windows. your stare softens, "i forgive you carlos." reaching forward, you brush away the hair that had fallen onto his forehead.
"you do ? i had so much grovelling left to do." he mumurs, glancing nervously to his side.
"did you seriously buy me something, already ? it's been-" you check your watch, "-3 hours ?"
"there was a plan in place Niña bonita. " [ pretty girl ] he reaches to his left and places the small black bag infront of you, "open it."
smirking, you begin to reach into the ominous container and retrieve a medium sized velvet box- as you pop it open, you gasp, "oh wow, it's beautiful."
nestled within, was a gold necklace, small diamonds hanging from the last few delicate chain links and in the middle, sat a chili pendant, petite rubies be-dazzling the body of the charm.
"i bought it a few days ago, i was waiting for the perfect moment to give it to you, but this seemed more appropriate." carlos took the jewellery in his hands and gestured for you to come closer.
craning your neck forward, you laugh quietly to yourself as you watch him stuggle with the clasp before grinning victoriously and retracts his hands away from your nape.
you take his face in your hands, "i love you." you declare as you kiss his pouted lips. he holds your wrists that rest against his jaw, running his thumb back and forth against your pulsee before whispering against your mouth,
"i love you more."
ᡣ𐭩 ⎯⎯ LANDO NORRIS 4
you stomped up to the door before banging on the wood angrily, "lando norris" you huff, "get out of this room right now."
"what ?" Lando wretched the door open, staring down at you, visibly annoyed.
"it has been 3 hours, since you have even stepped out of this room. now it is the winter break, you cannot possible think i will allow you to train on the sim for this long."
He opened his mouth to retaliate when gratingly familiar voices began to laugh and, "ohh" in the background.
"are you streaming ?" crossing your arms over, you're half tempted to push past his fuming chest and unplug the entire setup.
" so what ? you said i'm on break, i can stream if i want to." his voice began to raise dangerously.
"not when i told you that i cooked dinner," you poked his chest, making him blink, "that it's your favourite-" you poked again, "and especially not when i made that fucking tiramisu which you kept on going on and on about from japan." you push him, hard, before stalking out to the kitchen.
"wait ! " he called out, the sound of him shuffling and the door clicking closed made you grind your teeth when he didn't appear down the hallway.
Already packing up the food and placing it into the fridge carefully, you remained stoic to the fact that he had finally appeared behind you, wringing his hands as he watched you.
"babe ? "
"babe ? "
"bab-" "what."
you turn around on your heel, growling and if he were to open his mouth to say anything, steam would most likely begin to shoot out of your ears.
Lando stared at you, still playing with his fingers, "i wanted to- uhm," he gulped when you crossed over your arms, "say that i'm sorry." he whimpered.
"you're sorry ?"
"yeah."
"so," you guffaw, "i slave over the stove for hours, cooking, whipping, mixing and you think that i'm here to serve you when all you say is a 'sorry' "
"...no ?" he cringed, squeaking when you slithered past him towards the dining table and drag out a chair before taking a seat, "i don't see the big deal."
"you don't see the big deal ? " you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes.
"no."
"no ? " you parrot, holding your face in fear that if your hands were to be free, you would strangle him.
"i really don't ."
Inhaling deeply, you attempt to find your inner peace. for both of your sakes.
"lando, it has been 2 weeks of you being back home. 14 days. 336 hours and god knows how many minutes. and throughout that time, you have not touched me," you put up a finger, "you refuse to kiss me nearly as much as you did when you were out of the continent," another finger, "and someone would think you need glasses because you never seem to be looking at me, ever."
Lando's mouth popped open, eyes darting around your face in search of a viable answer, "I-"
"and lord," you scoff, "when i go to make a romantic dinner, in hopes that you could sustain eye-contact for more than a millisecond. you go and forget that as well." covering your mouth, you dip your head down, avoiding his crumpled expression to sob into your hands.
"Are you crying ? "
"i'm not," you retort, sniffing obnoxiously.
"then what are you doing ?"
" they're called allergies. it's the pollen."
"babe," you feel his once distant presensce come and crouch down to your level, warm palms braced on your knees, "its winter."
"i know," you weep, pressing your forehead into his shoulder.
"i'm sorry my love," he pleads, bumping the crown of his head gently with yours, "im so so sorry, i didn't mean to."
you shake your head pitifully, "yes you did. you think i'm ugly" you blubber.
"no- what ? NO ?" he takes your face in his hands, smooshing your cheeks together, "you're beautiful and the only thing that's ugly is my behaviour, i should've paid more attention to you, and i didn't." Lando kissed you tenderly, fingers brushing your hair away from your wet face, "but don't you dare say that you're anything short of stunning."
"shmokay," you lisp, tongue poking through your puckered lips, "shu hungry ?"
you smile contently when he wipes your cheeks and pecks your closed eyelids, "yeah... but not for food."
ᡣ𐭩 ⎯⎯ MAX VERSTAPPEN 1
" come on schat, i said i was sorry." Max tries for what seeemed to be the fiftieth time.
" will sorry bring back the 2 hours i spent outside, looking like an idiot ?" you plant your hands on your hips, staring him down.
Max slaps his head a few times before slowly approaching you, padding his way past the bed, "I have a job, Liefde" he presses his hands together and aims his fingers at you whilst gritting his teeth.
"oh, and i don't ? " you smack his aggitating hands away from your nose, "someone call wallstreet, i've been trading illegally. since apparently, my liscence and MB- fucking - A was for nothing . "
"you being on the phone and playing with money, is different from me driving a deathbox every week. hoe kun je de twee zelfs vergelijken ?" [ how can you even compare the two? ] he eununciates.
You gasp, half tempted to smash your stilleto heel into his poised foot, but decide against it when he follows your gaze and peices together your attack, already shuffling his foot away.
"max- i will not stand here and take this from you. i trade stocks you race jumbo bumper cars."
your voice reaches a new decible as you attempt to get through his thick skull.
"now either you can apologise, or else i'm walking out of the door. because i am done explaining to you how to be a good boyfriend " you point outside the bedroom which you both were currently shouting in.
Max crossed his arms, challenging your threat.
"really ?" you ask, appalled but nonetheless collect your purse from the floor and begin to leave the threshold.
Max hums, catching your eye when you turn around, already pivoting at the corner of the doorway. He shrugs, moving to the bed to sit down and yawn nonchalantly.
You blink a few times before leaning back into the room to snatch up the keys to his pista from the dresser, "fuck you."
and with that, you left the apartment. and max, whose words were beginning to dawn on him.
your feet were beginning to ache with how much you were walking and it was almost 200% confirmed, that blood was begining to pool into the expensive interior.
the sun was starting to set from it's afternoon high point and you watched it whilst continuing on your journey down the sidewalk, already having charged an alarming amount of shopping on max's card, you were nursing a grande cup of the most expensive coffee monaco would offer.
The pista sat 10km away from you, full to the brim with your shopping, so when it began to approach you parrallel on the road, your eyebrows shot up and you were prepared to throw the steaming drink into the drivers window as it rolled down.
"schat- why is there so much shopping in here ? "max asked, guidinng the car dangerously close to the pavement.
"you should know since i charged it to your account. " you clutch your to-go cup to your chest.
Max's eyes widened as he pulled his foot off the accelarator to twist his body back and take in the sheer amount of bags that were pilled into the backseat.
"is there a problem ? " you blink at him innocently, still walking towards what appeared to be the public beach.
he turned back to you, irises huge as saucers before he cleared his throat and shook his head, "nope" his voice cracked, "not at all."
"good" you harumphed, "on my measly sallary, i couldn't afford to buy all of it. thankfully i had your card with me."
Max grimaced at your words, "please just get in, people will think i'm hustling you."
"i hope they do. imagine max verstappen 3X world champion pays for sex ? on the tabloids."
He scoffed and stopped the car, no longer entertaining your trek since your determined trot had morphed into an embarrasing limp and your eyes were starting to water.
"please get into the car, you're in pain."
"no-" you sniffed, wiping your eyes, "no i'm not, my only pain is that my boyfriend doesn't think my job is serious enough or something." you wave a hand over your face, lip wobbling.
You're too busy trying not to sob into your hands to notice that max had parked the car and was currently slamming the door shut to come comfort you, "no, no i do- i think it's serious."
his arms wrap around you as he guides your back again the car, hiding your face into his chest to kiss the crown of your head, "i'm sorry for getting mad and saying those stupid things. it was uncalled for."
you look up at him, chin resting on his shirt, "..and ?"
"and..." he huffs, "i'm sorry for not meeting you at the resturant for lunch and not telling you that i wouldn't be able to make it since my meeting ran over."
you smile at him, giggling under your breath when his hand comes up to wipe your tears away, "my job is super serious, you were mean." you pout.
"yes- i was mean."
biting your lip guility, you take a deep inhale, "and i shouldn't have called your job 'jumbo bumper cars' "
max laughs and kisses your lips softly, "yeah- i think i deserved it."
you grin against his mouth, winding your hands around his neck as he presses you against his chest, hugging you tighter, "yeah you did. but im sorry nonetheless"
#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 blurb#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1blr#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc blurb#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz blurb#lando norris imagine#lando norris#lando norris fluff#lando norris blurb#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen blurb#[darlingwrites]
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*screaming*
*continued screaming*
Okay. So. My introductory Visual C# class.
The professor for that class was Alice. Alice was the person who spoke in the introductory video and the person who we were supposed to email if we had any issues.
But all of the assignments, lectures, and quizzes were written and delivered by Bob. On the youtube channel "Bob's programming academy." The quizzes included Bob's name, like "if you do X will it return the string ProfessorBob, Professor, Bob, or Professor.Bob?"
This class was really frustrating for me because it was structured in such a way that you could easily pass the class with zero knowledge of the subject - it was totally based on quizzes that you could take an unlimited number of times and we *had* weekly programming assignments but they weren't graded so there was no incentive to do them (and look, if I wanted to teach myself programming with no incentives I could fail for several years to do that on my own, I don't need to pay fifty bucks a unit for that; the reason I am in a *class* and am not self-taught is because I need external motivation. That's why I sought out a class).
Also when there *was* a problem with an instruction that was unclear in one of the videos for the assignments, or if I thought I'd done something correctly that was very much incorrect, it wasn't Alice who had created the instructions, it was Bob - in 2017 no less - and I didn't really feel like I could ask Alice for help with an ungraded assignment that she hadn't written.
So. Now. My Python class.
Today is the first day of class. Professor is Charles.
I go to the mandatory attendance quiz and it is word-for-word the same mandatory attendance quiz as the C# class, down to the final question "what is your personal email address so I can keep in contact with you after the semester?"
I look at the syllabus.
Class grade is based on quizzes. We have assignments but none of them are graded. There's no textbook, just a series of videos from Professor Bob's Programming Academy.
So I'd been toying with staying at this school and trying to take more CS classes instead of going to another school, just to try to keep my records easier to manage, but since it seems like that *ENTIRE DEPARTMENT* is five Professor Bobs in a trenchcoat, I will probably be going somewhere else (and once again trying to force myself to do projects that I already know are *good for me to do* but *useless for the class and a massive time suck*)
I should drop this class. I should drop this class and apply for the other school so that I can start taking classes there in the spring because if I take this class and then go into the object oriented programming class in the spring and it's another professor bob sock puppet and I end up taking twelve units of programming classes where all I learn is how to google answers in a short time frame (something I already know how to do thanks) I am going to fucking lose it.
Also, again: I have a Bachelor's Degree. I spent five years at a community college when I was getting that degree. I took probably a dozen online classes starting in 2005 and going until 2011 in the process of getting that degree.
THIS bullshit, this "I'm your professor but actually I'm not and all the materials were created by someone else in the department or came directly from the textbook publisher and there is no writing and there are no assignments everything is multiple choice quizzes that are automatically graded" is *dogshit.*
This is NOT how online classes worked back in my day, not even online math classes, and as much as I know adjuncts are getting fucked over by academia in general, this isn't something that these professors should be getting paid as much as they are to do. Alice checked whether or not students turned in a hello world assignment and gave a pass/fail grades for three discussion boards that were responses to youtube videos. Nothing else in the class required her input. If this is the level of instruction that students are getting then the class is already automated and the students shouldn't have to pay for it.
This is crap. This is an incredible level of crap.
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Crystal Springs Chapter 22: now up on ao3!
Read it HERE on ao3 :3
Chapter 22: Deck the Halls
The Frosts have a fun, festive day decorating the house. Santa and Carol pick up the family. Curtis and Lucy make a rather troubling discovery...
This is such a fun festive chapter with some top tier Frost family shenanigans, Blinter sauce, AND plot movement, woo! Have a sneak peek!
"You know what you need?" "I swear to the springs if you say Christmas cheer, I'll—" "Christmas cheer!" Blaise boomed, with a large grin. "Of all the people in the world who'd be down for a little festive fun, you think I—" "I know, I know. Hear me out! It's a nice distraction. It'll be fun!" "Will it?!" "Of course! Look, start small, alright? Just hold the ladder for your old man, will you? I'm too young to go to Rosehaven and this is not how I planned to go out." Jack sighed, grabbing onto the ladder nonetheless. Deciding to ignore the all too easy too young comment as his Dad finished clambering up the ladder, he chose a safer route instead. "How did you plan on going out then?" "No idea! I do know that there will be explosions involved." "Multiple little ones or one huge one?" "Haven't decided just yet. Either or is good enough for me, really." "Ou, fireworks?" "Maybe!" Blaise stopped suddenly, frowning in confusion. He looked all around, scratching his head. He glanced back down at the ground below him and sighed, his hair falling into a simmer. Perplexed as well, Jack looked around the floor. He snickered when he saw it: stacked neatly beside the ladder were the boxes of lights, still sealed tight. "Forget something, old man?" "Apparently! Mind tossing up a string?" "Sure, sure. Don't move!" Jack shouted up, letting go of the ladder. "I can't make explosions for you if you do fall off the ladder! It's not my forte." He opened the topmost box, grabbing two of the neatly coiled strings. He wrinkled his nose, thinking for a moment before grabbing a third string and sizing up the façade of the house. Picking a pillar, Jack placed a foot on it, and began walking up. He stepped off onto the veranda roof, continuing his walk unabashedly up the second-floor wall, and up the third one, stopping beside his Dad with a smug little smile. Blaise looked at Jack. He looked at the lights on Jack's arm. He glanced down at the boxes. Back at Jack. The corners of his mouth twitched. "Here you go," Jack said, passing him the first string of lights. Blaise laughed; it echoed around them, and though Jack was loathe to admit it, he found himself smiling too, his mood definitely starting to lift. "Thanks son." Blaise grabbed the string from Jack and stepped off the ladder and onto the wall himself, shaking his head with a tired smile. "That's one way of doing things." "Did you mean to tell me that you forgot we could do that?!" "I don't make a habit of it," Blaise defended, unplugging the string from itself and gently rolling it out. "So do you just, use a ladder every year?" Jack laughed. "That's hilarious. You're like, an eight-thousand-year-old sprite with a good amount of warlock training under your belt, and you use a ladder?! Why not enchant the lights to go up by themselves? Or just make your own, you know, what with the fire that you can summon at will?" "Hey! I'm not eight thousand yet." "Sure you aren't." "I'm not even seventy thousand yet!" "If you say so," Jack shrugged. "I mean I'm close but not that close!" Jack pulled a face, sticking his hands up in surrender. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Dad." Blaise clipped the first bulb onto the gutter as a smirk crept onto his face. "Ah, now for me—" he side-eyed Jack, satisfied when the smug look began to drop, the colour leaving his face. "—that would be your mom." "Oh come ON Dad!" Jack protested loudly, nearly rivalled by Blaise's howling laughter. "I DON'T NEED TO KNOW THESE THINGS!"
I live to see Blinter embarrass Jack, and Winter's got the lead on Blaise so now, he gets a turn, lmao. See how the Frost Family's Festive Funtime goes right HERE on ao3 and HERE on ff.net!
Wanna read from the top? Check out the Prologue: An Encounter HERE on ao3 and HERE on ff.net. Summary below the cut! AND some author rambles!
It's been almost a year since Jack Frost thawed and things are looking...well, not so great. Jack's powers are seemingly gone. Without them, the Dome that keeps the North Pole safe from the cold and its magic controlled is melting, putting everything and everyone magical at risk. Unable to hide his power shortage any longer, Jack is forced to admit the truth. Thankfully, there is a solution: enacting the Legate Law, bringing Jack and the sister that he hurt so many centuries ago back together again. But when Jacqueline starts experiencing destructive blackouts, the pair are forced to head back home to Crystal Springs, bringing Jack face to face with the rest of the family. Needless to say, between getting his powers back, helping his sister figure out what in the FROST those blackouts even were, reconciling with his parents, meeting the two even younger siblings he didn't even KNOW he had, NOT TO MENTION the ancient threat that's had it out for the ENTIRE Frost family finally making a move? Saving Christmas (regrettably) is looking to be a little bit...complicated.
And with that, one more chapter until fresh CS content you guys! AHHH I AM SO EXCITED! Then two more chapters to go!
I've already got fun plans for 2024. Frostmas is next to be crossposted (but I make no guarantees it'll get the CS treatment, by which I mean, I won't have it done to give u the last two years and the epilogue come late 2024 lol. Or maybe I will! Who's to say! I'm at least hopeful to have Y11 for you some time next year :), and I've already picked a BANGER of an update date for each year (hehehe, the 13th of each month >:), and ff dot net continues to be a pain (guess what broke again. EMAIL NOTIFICATIONS D:<), so the sooner the BETTER.
And we'll see when Into the Shadows makes it up! It's got a lot of tricky parts and I've drafted (in note form) up to chapter 7 I believe? I've gotta figure a few more things out (villain motivations, order of disappearances) but then who knows! Maybe 2025 will be the year of ITS ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. At that point I won't even NEED to shift things to make it more original with the big stuff from TSCS universe, as I imagine they'll keep on taking the series so far from the movies that they'll be unidentifiable as the same franchise (I am already salty about s2 and 100% convinced s3 will be a thing and it SHOWS)
ANYWAY. Stay tuned for Chapter 23: Fae Brand next week, and Chapter 24: Whiteout (🆕 NEW CONTENT 🆕) THE FOLLOWING WEEK! (Nov 16th ish most likely since Thursdays seem to be when the chapter gets up)
I've tried to be super good with descriptions and visuals so that artist friends can go absolutely feral >:) ahhhh I can't WAIT for you all to read it!! 🥰🥰🥰
#dani speaks#cs on ao3#long post#the santa clause#the santa clause 2#the santa clause 3#tsc#tsc3#tsc2#jack frost#ocs#fanfic#cs posting#crystal springs#i am doing cartwheels like a little plastic wind up toy at the prospect of fresh cs for y'all like. SO FUCKING SOON 🤩🤩🤩#SO FUCKING SOON! GAH!#okokok enjoy :3
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter eighteen | coriolanus snow
「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | non-con/dub con hints, hints of knife and mild blood consumption, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of suicide, mentions of Dr. Gaul, choking | lmk if I forgot anything
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus snow has his hands on you and he's not playing
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 @tristanswildcat thank you for feedback! and y'all also make sure to let me know your thoughts for the chapter!
Beta read by the lovely 🌹 @nowitsmissing
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Coriolanus walks behind you. The silence is deafening, the tension could be cut with a knife. The upper floors had bedrooms assigned to every Capitol ‘guest’ that had come. Snow was walking you to yours. You don't say a word to him; you keep walking forward searching for your room number.
You make a soft noise as you find your assigned room. You take out the key that was given to you and you push the key into the keyhole. Your eyes flicker at Coriolanus. But it was impossible to see his emotions, his face was cold and passive. As if you're nothing.
You open the door, unaware of the danger.
You walk in, and Coriolanus follows.
Not even a second has passed and you find yourself pinned to the door. Coriolanus grins as he sees the flash of fear in your eyes. ‘Be afraid of me, dove,’ he thinks. Be afraid. Coriolanus Snow was going to punish you.
And you're going to take it.
He knew he was capable of killing you. He was mad enough for that. He also knew he would kill himself right after because there would be nothing to live for.
“Hi, dove,” he smirked.
“Remember me?” He hissed in anger.
“Cory-” Before you could finish calling him by his nickname, he cuts off your airway with his hand on your throat. He pressed hard, making you gasp. He was taking your breath away.
“Don't call me that, bitch,” he growled. You squirm under his hold but don't fight back. He likes how you're giving in. You're letting yourself surrender like a broken toy. Good girl.
You gasp, trying to say his name again. He pressed harder, making your eyes nearly roll back. He then loosens the hold, letting you take small amounts of air so that you would remain conscious.
Coriolanus takes out a pocket knife that he keeps in his pants at all times. He chuckled as your eyes began to panic and your trash in his hold. “I'll stab your heart if you keep acting up, sweety,” he whispered to your ear. The threat has you relaxing in his hold, though you whimper in fear. Coriolanus would feel ashamed later that he could feel his cock harden from the sound.
Such a fucking drug you are, making him high after all these months. He needs to overdose or else he doesn't think he'll survive. “You…” he said, “you're a horrible, horrible being.” With every word, he squeezed your neck. “I hate you.” It was a lie obviously, but Coriolanus figured that you'd never find out.
Tears begin to fill your eyes. Coryo ignored the pang of pain in his heart. He takes the pocket knife and lets the blade slowly drag against your cheek. He doesn't let it break the skin, not yet. He takes the blade down until he reaches the button of your shirt. One by one he cuts them off, exposing your body to him. He hums in appreciation of your beauty.
“But you still belong to me.”
He lets the knife break skin. He was cutting you near your hip. He could hear you hiss. He doesn't care. He carves out two letters on your skin. CS. Coriolanus Snow. That way you can never forget about him again like you did for all these months. He made sure of it. Every time you look at your body, it will remind you of him.
Snow would never leave your mind now.
Coriolanus felt proud of himself for achieving that. He lets the pocket knife fall on the floor and traces the bloody cut with his finger. He takes his bloody finger and smears the red on his lips. His tongue peeks out to lick the metallic liquid and he groans as he has your taste on his tongue. Is it disgusting of him to think that was delicious? God, district twelve has fucked him up.
“You're so fucking addicting. I should kill you,” he said to you as he sucks his lower lip for any lingering taste. He then pressed a kiss to your cheek, his hold around your neck completely loosening. Now it just stayed there like a leash.
You gasp, taking much-needed air as Coryo nuzzles his face to your neck. The smell of blood fills the room and you whisper his name,
“Coryo.”
He felt the anger rushing back, “You don't get to call me that anymore, dove.” He adds, “You lost the fucking right.” Tears begin to fall from your eyes. “Coryo- please-” you plead, afraid of him.
He felt more anger by the fact that you thought that he would hurt you. He would never! “No- fuck off! Shut up!” He yells, he hopes that the walls are thick here. He pressed his lips to yours, shutting off your begging. He kisses like he's starved and he is. He savagely bites your lower lip, sucking your tongue. He groans into your mouth. He doesn't break the kiss, no matter how sloppy it gets.
He hadn't realized that he had begun to choke you again until you stopped kissing back. Your eyes were closed and your unconscious body was supported by him. He takes you to your bed and lays you down slowly. He looks at you, your shirt torn, your body exposed, and your mind shut off.
He frowned, he thought he would like you see you like this. But he didn't at all. He remembered the first time he had been pinned against a door. It was in his penthouse, you were bleeding that day too. But in a different way. He fucked you with his fingers that night, and you were out of it from pleasure. He preferred that much more. He thought of you as pathetic right now.
Anybody could come and take advantage of you. Coriolanus couldn't let that happen. He finds out there's a first aid kit in your suitcase. He takes off your ruined shirt. He wets a cotton ball with antiseptic, he then presses the bud on your cut. He cleans it up to the best of his abilities and stops the bleeding. He then takes out an oversized t-shirt… which he recognizes as his.
He furrowed his eyebrows, confused about why you would keep his t-shirt. He clenched his jaw, a bit mad that Tigris had given it to you. He hadn't checked any of her new letters and it was time he spoke to her anyway. He then dresses you up in his old t-shirt. Then he waits… and waits.
He wondered how long he knocked you out for and if he should leave. But he doesn't. It's too risky to leave you alone in a place filled with filthy peacekeepers. Then he hears you murmur in your sleep,
“Please, Dr. Gaul, let me talk to him. Please, I beg of you. He's sorry, I promise.”
You wake up with a startle, crying out his name as you sit up. Your eyes are wide as you look around the unfamiliar room. Then your eyes land on him and you remember. You practically tackle him. Your limbs caging him into a hug. You were on his lap. And you were sobbing so loudly.
“Coryo, Coryo, Coryo,” you repeat his name like a prayer. You pulled back slightly and then you raised your hand to slap him, hard. It stings. He knew that it would leave a mark.
“Why didn't you reply to any of my letters, you bastard!? And you called me a bitch! The fucking audacity!”
Your hand wraps itself around his throat.
It was at this moment that he knew, he fucked up.
Next Part
#character x reader#x you#x reader#x female reader#fem reader#coriolanus snow#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus fanfiction#president coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader smut#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow x female!reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x reader#snow x reader#dystopian fiction#young coriolanus snow#president snow#tom blyth#thg tbosas#tbosas fanfiction#tbosas x reader#tbosas#the hunger games#the hunger games x reader#thg x reader#thg series
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König and Ghost nsfw hdcs please?👉🏼👈🏼
Anything for you, lovely anon :3
(no no, no proofread *wiggles finger*)
Ghost & König NSFW H/Cs
Ghost
Outside of the bedroom, he has a dominant facade, always acting like he's the one in control of the relationship.
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But when it comes to being inside of the bedroom, oh Ghost is nothing but a good boy. Always doing what you command him to do, and always turning into putty from your gentle touch alone.
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Has a preference of being praised over being degraded, childhood trauma really has its downsides when it comes to intimacy.
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Prefers receiving than giving, he likes having someone do all the work for him (lazy fuck)
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Has a hidden collection of "toys" in his closet that he uses on himself whenever you're not around.. Although he'll never cum with said toys.. Not without your permission of course.
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If he's in a bad mood, he'll definitely bring out his more bratty side. He'll ignore certain commands and will try to dom you.... Though he'll never actually dom you, he did one time and couldn't walk for the next day.
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He tries his very best to keep himself quiet, biting back his whimpers and moans. But if you ever tell him he can be loud... Be prepared for some earplugs...
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Aftercare is a must! Whether it's having a simple bath, or praise and soft kisses while calling him a good boy. As long as there's aftercare, he'll be the happiest man on the planet.
König
This man is 1000% a good little submissive boy. People tend to think he's the dominant one, but all in all, he's nothing but a good boy.
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Is into both praise and degradation, although, he does more or less prefer praise. Degradation is only for the times he's been a naughty boy.
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Receiver 100%, takes it in the ass like a champ!
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My sweet little colonel is a moaner, he's the loudest man you've ever been with, and it's not as obvious, but he holds that title with pride.
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If he's in a good mood, he would love having you pull his hair, the way his eyes roll back whenever you're jerking him off and pulling his hair is the most euphoric experience he's ever had.
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Was embarrassed to admit it at first, but he's really into pet play, he loves having that collar around his neck along with having you pull the leash to get him closer to you, it leaves a cute little twinkle in his eyes.
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(On a completely random note if you're pegging him and he's completely overstimulated, he'll unironically moan out: "Ah! hnng! Please madam! Get me pregnant! Make me pregnant please!!)
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Again, aftercare is the most important part! He usually prefers having a shower after your sessions, but if you two have had a little too much fun and he's unable to walk.. A nice warm bath will do just nicely.. (Maybe add a rubber ducky too)
#dom reader#sub cod#sub konig#sub ghost#call of duty#ghost x reader#könig x reader#sub könig#cod headcanons#cod mw#fem reader
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