#some of you are such weirdos jesus christ
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reminder that any sort of allegations where real fucking people are involved, when we know so little, are not canon fodder for your fandom dick measuring contest
#waking up at 3am to this and people think theyre being funny#try not to seem so gleeful- if not for anything then for your electronic footprint#some of you are such weirdos jesus christ#f1#christian horner
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I like dickory more than i like dickbabs but as soon as you make either a bitch or an obstacle just to get the other together I’m leaving the fanfic immediately no matter how good the fic is. It could have all the tropes and tags and be completed but as soon as I see that I get immediately pissed off cuz I’d rather a 3rd act break up or miscommunication trope then turning an canon love interest into a jealous bitch for romantic drama that is so misogynistic and insulting to me
#dickory#dickbabs#dick grayson#koriand'r#kory anders#barbra gordon#like get that not everyone like the amicable ex trope but come on ppl#I only don’t like dickbabs in some fics because they have the batfam hate on Kory for being an alien#like one Bruce would never do that his best friend is one#I blame that one comic author for the mischaracterizion of the batfam thoughts on dickkory in fic#anti dickbabs#<<<tagging that for the weirdo’s who can’t read#also for the weirdo’s who can’t read it says either do you know what that means it means dickbabs or dickory#because I like babs as a whole just not with dick#and I like the batfam#oh my god if you couldn’t tell this was about fanon and fandom shit#I don’t necessarily like either ship i just hate when ppl trash both in their fanfics#jesus christ
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Nah I'm sorry but the pregnancy announcement after George confirmed that Max said that he would smash his head against a wall. No one is gonna say anything bad about a father to be. That was such a perfect PR move.
And it's marketable. Baby merch immediately popped up on his site after. I've physically seen people excuse his threat towards George (which under no circumstances would ever be normal?? even if anyone else said it) to get all cheerful (called it 'alright' because he's 'morally grey' ?? that's a real human being, not a fictional character) about the baby and also using it to defend Kelly too. (I'm not going in that rabbit hole more, but she doesn't deserve defense or a fanbase)
Does everyone fall for pr that easily? Apparently so. Average F1 fan sucks up to the worst type of (European) man so easily and falls deep for their curated, predatory parasocial relationships. Media training, media acting (DTS), fandom-curated content, and rpf have you all acting like everything is a movie. Like everything is fine and sunshine.
Holy shit I need a breather.
#f1#lainsplaining#anti kelly piquet#anti piquet#anti verstappen#anti max verstappen#im far from a max hater but holy shit#i need to be harsh sometimes#i also need people in this fandom to get a grip bc holy shit is the parasocial relationship shit not THIS BAD in other (motor)sports#embarassing#take this seriously jesus fucking christ get your rpf glasses off#my brain isnt rotted completely by rpf like some of you#they are not all friends they are not all buddies they are not all good and dandy#some of them are assholes some of them are weirdos#to be critical sometimes is to find the faults in what you enjoy#if you blindly accept everything like a movie#you arent a fan of sport#but pr#im yapping too much#box box pitstop asks
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"Boys??? Are so soft????? And pretty?????? #Achillean"
You are a girl.
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The longer I work with kids the less I understand people who are just mean to them.
#if you act like and think that kids are like evil you are a weirdo and also kind of evil#this is both about those types of people but also specifically some of my colleagues#i don’t understand how you can think that treating problematic children like fucking criminals would do anybody any good#like yes omg these kids can get on my nerves and be MEAN but they’re just kids jesus christ! they’re not gonna fucking improve#if you’re just yelling at them and threatening punishment without explaining what they’re doing wrong!!!!! i thought this was like#COMMON SENSE!!
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Yvonne Elliman is one of the most stunning humans to have ever existed, and the fact that she has that voice is just unfair.
#yvonne elliman#this post brought to you by the annual rewatch of#jesus christ superstar#aka the only decent thing ALW ever wrote#zjo is one of those weirdo religious folk#honestly between her and#carl anderson#this movie is a bisexual’s nightmare#and the homoeroticism between carl anderson and ted neely is un*ending*#i fully believe they fucked at some point
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The concept of weird girl pussy, y/n who is not some conventionally attractive bimbo, y/n who reads smut on the train ride home and loves anime. Y/n who has the type of fashion taste that blends with the crowd. Y/n who has A03 and tumblr as their most searched. Y/n who despite being by all means a ‘weirdo’, is somehow blessed with the most eye rolling toe curling pussy. The type of pussy a big strong cocky man like Sukuna whimper when he only slips the tip in. The type of pussy that has Gojo nearly busting inside from a single thrust. The type that has Geto scrunching his eyes shut because Jesus Christ he’s seeing colors.
These men have never begged for sex in their life but here they are looking at you with puppy dog eyes.
“Please baby?” They whine “Just for a minute?”
#weirdgirlpussy
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Jesus fuck what is WRONG with you people.
This is actually such fucking pathetic middle school behaviour. You hate Tommy that bad go write fucking MCD fic like a normal person and COPE.
Actually no, fuck it. You have no respect for the show, the writers, the actors, or the characters, stop watching the fucking show since CLEARLY it's never going to be good enough for you. I'm so done being nice about this shit. This isn't funny, this isn't quirky. This is fucking annoying and childish. Log the fuck off, go outside, breathe some fresh air for once, and get some perspective. Your fictional FANON ship is not going to happen. Grow up and learn how to cope with it like the rest of us did.
(BTW if you think this is justified or funny or if you think I'm being too harsh, block me, I'm done playing.)
So, this person... thought it would be real funny to edit Tommy’s wiki page...
To this...
And Buddie shippers have the audacity to say bucktommies are toxic?!
You all are biggest fucking losers and jobless individuals in the world. I hope you get karma and Buddie never happens!
#i still love buddie as a FANON ship but jesus fucking christ on a stick you guys what the FUCK is this#THIS right here is why im blocking the buddie tag#THIS is why im not interacting with buddie shippers anymore.#because you fucking weirdos went and RUINED it#youve killed the fun of it#great job i hope youre happy#fucking unhinged#go learn some fandom etiquette and history before you log back on too btw#911 abc
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Obsessed with the idea of Castlevania from Alucard's perspective 'cause like. Imagine your dad is one of the most dangerous people on the planet but you keep forgetting about it because he's also hopelessly and pathetically devoted to your mother to the point of borderline neglecting you which kind of sucks but y'know whatever. And then your mom is brutally and publicly murdered so you head out for your dad's estate already presuming he's cooking up some pretty chill, sweet revenge, only to find out he's actually Actively Planning A Genocide against your own mother's people, of which you're also still technically a part of. So you try telling your dad that's actually Not Chill and he just fucking lunges at you, permanently scarring you and leaving you in a year long coma so now you have to kill your weirdo loser dad which sucks hard cuz y'know. You really don't have anyone else but ok.
But you're still in a coma so then you're woken up by a random mage girl who thinks you're Jesus Christ Reborn and a loser homeless boy who immediately (and homoerotically) tries to fight you and he actually manages to stab you in the gut but you think that's sexy and you ask them if they wanna help you kill your dad and now suddenly you're part of a murder polycule. So like. What I'm trying to say is 10/10 the character of all time
#this might be innacurate#im still watching s2 so idk#dont get me started on lisa and dracula tho#im as obsessed with their relashionship as they are for each other atp#alicentswife#which is not healthy but its sexy so its ok#castlevania#alucard#adrian tepes#vlad dracula tepes#dracula x lisa#lisa tepes#trevor belmont#alucard x trevor#sypha belnades#trephacard#alucard castlevania#castlevania alucard#castlevania netflix#netflix castlevania#is this how you tag#theundeadbrides
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All of me, loves all of you
Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader
word count: 1.3k
warnings: possible spelling mistakes, some language, hate comments, nothing else lmk if I missed anything
summary: you’ve always been told in your life by multiple people that you’re always either too loud or too quiet and it’s one of your biggest insecurities but happens to be your boyfriend’s favourite thing about you.
A/N: sorta inspired by @obsidianbaby fic with a little twist and hers is a Chris version. Here it is if you want to check it out. Listen to John Legend ‘all of me’ while reading if you want <3
❗️semi proof read❗️
You were on sat on the couch as the triplets rushed around the house getting the equipment they needed to film the car video, all they had left to find was a battery because Nick once again forgot to charge the battery so they had to find a charged one to replace the dead battery before filming whilst also waiting for their food to arrive.
“Y/N are you joining us for the video? Or can I be Matt’s passenger princess?” Chris joked as he made his way past her towards the kitchen to check their junk drawer for the spare battery.
“Fuck where is it?” He muttered to himself as he rummaged through the drawer, unsuccessful in finding what he was looking for. The younger woman didn’t acknowledge her best friend at first, her head being buried in her phone, more specifically, looking at the comments on last Friday’s car video where she was having one of her more quiet days and the comments surely picked up on the sudden mood change compared to her yapping in the Wednesday video prior to the Friday car video.
‘She needs to make up her mind, either be loud or be quiet Jesus Christ’
‘How do they put up with her? She’s so annoying’
‘Y/N needs to be more entertaining omg😭’
‘One day she’s quiet the next she won’t stfu, must be so annoying to the triplets, how do they like her??? Especially Matt??? Poor guy’
‘She’s such a weirdo, either being way too loud or way too quiet💀’
‘Y/N?? You with me kid?” Chris waved his hand in front of her face to grab her attention.
“Hmm? Sorry Chris what did you say?” She replied to the older boy. As he was about to reply, the doorbell rang signaling the food had arrived, Matt came from his bedroom and made his way down the stairs to open the door and get the food, thanking the delivery driver as he closed the door. He came back up the stairs and placed the bag of McDonald’s on the kitchen table, sorting out who’s is who’s.
“I was asking if you were coming to film with us?” she shook her head in response.
“No, I’ll sit this one out, I think. Maybe just watch a film or have a shower and an early night.”
Matt’s head turned in the direction of his girlfriend and brother as soon as he heard the words leave Y/N’s mouth, immediately sensing something was wrong.
“You okay baby? You feeling good?” He asked, concern written all over his features, Matt made his way over to the Y/H/C girl with her usual McDonalds order of 9 chicken nuggets, medium fries and a peach iced tea. He placed her food on the table in front of her and quickly raised the back of his hand to her forehead, her temperature seemed fine to him.
“Yeah, I’m okay Matt, I promise, I’m just tired you know I’ve had a busy day.” She explained, looking up at her boyfriend with a not very convincing smile on her face, not convincing to Matt anyway, he could read her like a book.
Nick had found the battery, and the camera was now ready to set up in the car.
“You coming you two?” He calls out to the couple while grabbing his food off the kitchen table. Chris doing the same and stood with the oldest triplet waiting for an answer.
“Give us a minute Nick, you and Chris head to the car.” Matt replied, throwing his car keys in the direction of Chris which he smoothly caught. The brothers made their way downstairs to the garage to unlock the car. In the living room, Matt was now sat next to Y/N on the couch. He noticed a stray tear make it’s way down her cheek.
“Baby please just tell me what’s bothering you. It can’t be silly if it’s making you cry.” he stated as he wiped the stray tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. He looked over to her unlocked phone that had since been discarded on the table, he removed his hands from her face and picked her phone up, raising his eyebrows as if asking permission to look through the phone. She nodded in silent understanding. He looked at the illuminated screen and a frown immediately made its way onto his face, followed by a glare at some of the comments that his so called fans had left about the love of his life.
“They hate me.” Y/N said dejectedly, biting her nails anxiously as Matt continued to read the comments. Matt sighed before he replied.
“Oh baby. A few comments mean nothing okay my love, what matters is what you think and what I think, and I think you’re amazing just the way you are.”
“But Matt it’s not just a few comments! It’s every other comment, either saying you must be annoyed by me, or I don’t deserve you or that I’m a weirdo all because I’m always either too loud or too quiet! I’ve always been made fun of because of it!” She replied frustrated, tears beginning to well up in her eyes yet again.
Suddenly Matt placed her phone face down on the couch and grabbed her hand before leading her to his bathroom. He switched the light on and placed her in front of the mirror and rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“See this woman in the mirror? She is the most perfect woman I have ever met, every little detail of her, from her freckles to her personality makes her even more perfect to me and I fall more in love with her every day.” He placed a trail of kisses leading from her shoulder up to her cheek before he loosened his hold on her waist to turn her so she was facing him before continuing.
“Darling, you can’t let the things people who hide behind their screens tell you define you okay? It would break my heart to see their nasty words dim my princess’ light, okay? You are perfect to me, and that’s all that matters, okay? Not some bullshit random people on the internet say, they’re just jealous 12 year olds.” He joked, lightening the mood, causing a small smile to creep up on her face, he smiled at the sight.
“There’s my favorite smile!” He exclaimed.
He cupped her cheeks before speaking again.
“Love, you have to remember if you ever feel like this again, is all of me loves all of you, okay? Always has and always will, you’re my favorite person and you being both loud and quiet balances me out perfectly, if I need a quiet and safe place you give that to me, or if I need to let off energy and be crazy, you go on all kinds of crazy adventures with me. I couldn’t be more thankful for you. I love you so much my angel.”
“I love you too my love” she replied, happy tears now in her eyes as opposed to the sad and frustrated tears in her eyes not even 20 minutes ago.
“What do you say, we go film the video with Nick and Chris, I want the better passenger princess next to me and not the one who burps 24/7 and looks like me” he joked, she let out a laugh at her boyfriend.
“Sure, let’s go film. I wanna grab my food first though.” He nodded and the couple made their way into the living room to grab Y/N’s food before making their way down to the garage where they heard Nick and Chris arguing over something ridiculous, they both laughed at the pair. The two in the car noticed the couple stood in the doorway making their way to the car. Y/N got in the car while Matt remained outside, focusing the camera. Y/N threw a thumbs up to Matt as the camera was set up right. Chris gave Y/N a quick hug from the back seat before he spoke.
“You good now kid?” He asked, she nodded and smiled back at him as Matt got in the car and pressed record. The four filming the video full of laughs and debates. Matt added in a little rant to the viewers on being nicer to Y/N and from that point forward, the hate comments had died down to the odd few from jealous fan girls.
#Spotify#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo imagine#matt x y/n#matt x reader#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagines#matt sturniolo x fem reader#matt sturniolo angst#matthew sturniolo imagine#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo#nicolas antonio sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic#tumblr fyp#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo imagines
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I know you talked about meeting older bf!Simon in the alternate universe but can you please tell us how we met normal universe Simon?
oh 🥹 course i can write a little meet cute (i have oc you a little bit but that’s ok i think)
the first time you ever meet your older bf!simon, you’re actually at work.
your boss tells you and the rest of your coworkers (very late notice, might you add) that your dinky little cafe is taking part in a government run initiative-
“service for service men”
the collective hum of confusement doesn’t skip you and you’re even more confused when he tells you that different businesses are opening their doors to service men (and women technically) to allow them to integrate with their community.
you don’t want to outright say it seems performative but, it definitely seems performative.
nevertheless, you get your apron on and wait for them to arrive. you’ve already resigned yourself to the fact that, knowing your luck, you’re going to get some morally-grey weirdo.
instead you get-
“simon riley, uh- ghost”
your boss reads it from his clipboard as the man in question appears before you like an apparition. with a skull gator mask covering the lower half of his face.
ok.
you do your best to smile and give him your name when you learn quickly that this guy is a man of few words, but many grunts.
“do you prefer simon or ghost?”
he eyes you in his peripheral as you move behind the counter towards your coffee machine. he doesn’t answer and you know it’ll be a long day.
“alright, i’m picking simon”
and he doesn’t argue so you take it as a win.
you bring him to the coffee machine and explain the bare basics, you’re also hyper aware that in a few days- he’s going to go back to handling guns and never make another cappuccino in his life so you don’t go too crazy.
but he does have to make his own coffee.
“and then you would bring the milk jug to this spout and the steam froths it”
his eyes are blank, unreadable- but jesus christ can he hold a stare. you get this unshakable sense that he does not give a fuck and, honestly, you can’t blame him.
but it is your job.
“do you want to give it a go?”
his eyes flicker to the machine for a second before they’re back on yours, expecting more silent treatment you nearly jump when he speaks.
“what if i fuck it up?”
your eyebrows crinkle just a little. what? it’s a coffee machine? this man’s probably performed manoeuvres the average person didn’t know existed.
and he’s scared of a coffee machine?
you almost want to snort a little laugh but a voice in your head tells you better not. instead you step a little closer to him.
“you won’t, i won’t let you”
and he catches you in his peripheral again, ever so slightly inching closer to you. he surprises you again by speaking up.
“will y’tell me what t’do?”
“if that’s what you’d like, course i will”
and that’s what you do. massive hands dwarf the milk jug as he cradles it so not to scald the milk but moves it with a dexterity you can only admire.
“and pull it off like- that, that’s perfect”
he looks at the milk before he looks at you, almost like he’s studying your expression.
“y’sure?”
“yes- you did a good job, simon”
he turns his head before you can get a good look at his expression. as he’s pouring the milk into the mug like you’d instructed, you very nearly missed what he said.
“i prefer simon”
craning your neck so you can better see his face, you question it with a quiet hum.
“i prefer y’calling me simon- i didn’t want y’to call me ghost”
oh.
“glad i picked well then”
he doesn’t respond to that but you figure he’s not the type you push. his coffee rests on the bench before him and he’s looking at it like he wants to try.
then he’s looking around at all the people filling the small cafe and his knuckles nudge at the edge of his mask.
oh.
you don’t know how you do it but you put two and two together quite quickly. eyes darting to the door behind you, you’re telling him to follow you.
he ends up, coffee in hand, in the small break room at the back. just a table and a couple chairs with a zip boiler on the wall.
you offer him a chair as you awkwardly hover by the door. “so you can enjoy your creation”
he takes a seat and then looks at you expectantly, before nodding his head towards the other chair.
you sit, do what you’re told- and all of a sudden he’s checking his six once before he pulls the mask down.
it takes your breath away a little bit.
honestly? truthfully? he just looks like a man.
but to you? a part of you is worried that you might spend the rest of your life thinking about him.
like you might be old and grey one day without a thought left to your name but he’ll be the last thing to leave your mind.
he doesn’t break that hardline stare with you as he takes a sip. he really didn’t have to groan quietly as he did it, but he did.
you think he watches you fidget. you think you like it. you think he does too.
at the end of the day, your coworkers are complaining as you all get your bags and close up shop for the day.
“i hope they all got something out of it cause i didn’t get a single bloody thing”
you snort in amusement, minding your business as you shrug your jacket on. as your hands burrow into your warm pockets you feel your fingers brush over the small slip of paper.
you could almost trace the pen stroked digits.
yeah, didn’t get a bloody thing.
#and the rest was history#actually by the time you get home he’s already text you#all it says is ‘it’s simon’ but to you that’s better than a poem#older bf!simon#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader
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🖤Fuck or die🖤
Paring: slasher! König x fem! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, dead dove do not eat, non-con so rape, cuckolding, unwilling cheating, oral, facefuck, dick piercing bc I know y’all like it, unprotected sex, blood, murder, gore in the end. This is only fiction, don’t take any of this too seriously! If you feel triggered by any of these tags - just scroll past!
Word count: 4k, holy fucking shit
A/n: not me writing this in one day, jesus fucking christ😮💨 It’s first time I wrote something so violent, but I think I did pretty good! Originally planned to post it on halloween night but I’m too eager to share!! Also, I tried my best to fix all mistakes by proofreading it 4 times, I really did, but I’m pretty sure that I left out some still
It’s been very uneasy in a small town where you lived - series of blatant murders shook up all inhabitants with their brutality. Cruelly butchered corpses gave a hint of culprit’s strength, so cops guessed it was a man. And the most terrifying thing about this whole situation was that this maniac was still on loose - he never left any evidences, not a damn thing - nothing that could give a clue of who he was. The only trace he’s ever left wasn’t an accident or his mistake, but a well-planned thing - after appearing nameless in numerous news reports and articles he finally decided to introduce himself, writing KÖNIG with his victim’s blood on white flooring, said victim’s two bloody teeth serving as umlaut.
And his motives behind picking out victims were just as unclear - there was nothing in common between all these people: he didn’t have any preferences in victim’s sex or age, their profession nor appearance - as long as they lived in one family house, to avoid anyone hearing their screams, you figured. It seemed that he simply loved killing, who that was - didn’t matter.
You can’t say how exactly it all happened. It was another evening that you were spending at your boyfriend’s place - Paul’s parents were out of town for a few days for anniversary of their wedding, leaving a huge house for their only son. You felt uneasy - there weren’t any new murders in over a month, people were scared that maniac will go “haunting” very soon, which meant that no one was safe.
Paul only cooed at you soothingly when you shared your worries with him, promising to “protect you from all weirdos out there”, placing a comforting kiss on your forehead. So to distract yourselves you decided to throw a movie night - stacking up with snacks and beer, Netflix window opened on a large tv-screen, ready to serve its purpose as you made last preparations.
Cuddled up on the comfy couch, your boyfriend’s comforting warmth slowly seeped into your tense muscles, you watched some corny comedy, groaning in tandem at poorly-made jokes. When suddenly a sound of shattered glass jolted you both up, staring tensely at each other.
- I’ll go check it, - Paul said, getting up and heading to the living room from where the noise came. Everything was quiet for a few long minutes, your fingers fiddled with loose string on the corner of fluffy blanket as you heard some crashing and your boyfriend’s angry shouting:
- Y/n, get out of here!
Then everything was as if in a blur; tall figure clad in all black stepped into the living room, white scream mask contrasting starkly, huge knife covered in thin layer of blood was shining in blue tv-light. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you stared at the man in front of you - sticky feeling of fear seemed to fill every muscle in your body with heavy lead, making it impossibly hard to move even an inch. And then something in your head snapped, you threw yourself off the couch and towards the door opposite from killer, but he was way quicker - huge hands gripped you by your shoulders, rising you off your feet easily and dragging you back towards living room, your struggling and screaming did nothing to help.
You were now kneeling in front of this psycho, hands tied up tightly with coarse rope that dug painfully into your soft skin, surely leaving deep indents and dark bruises. Your boyfriend was laying on his side a few meters afar - bound by his wrists and ankles with same rope, crimson blood oozed out of deep stabbing wound in his stomach, nose obviously broken and bleeding - all these a result of his grapple with intruder, which obviously didn’t end in Paul’s favour.
- Please, - you weeped, tears and snot covered all of your face, whole body trembled with fear and adrenaline. - Please, I’ll do anything you want, just don’t kill me, - you managed to choke out, silent cries tore through your chest, their intensity made it hard for you to breathe - you were hysterical.
- Oh, I know you will, sweetheart, - mechanical voice said in mock sympathy. One huge glowed hand came up to cup your chin, causing you to jolt violently upon feeling the contact; murderer tilted your head upwards, your insides churning upon laying your eyes on white plastic of his mask.
His thumb rubbed soft circles on your wet cheek - it was almost ridiculous how gently he touched you. This made you sob even more, but you didn’t dare to turn away, too scared to anger him.
- That would be a shame to kill such a pretty little thing, after all, - maniac said, glove-clad pad of his thumb swiped over your trembling bottom lip, soft cotton absorbing the mixture of your tears and saliva glazing it. - I may have an idea. Wanna hear it?
Silence set in for a few long gut-wrenching seconds which was interrupted only by your quiet sobbing and sounds of your boyfriend struggling against tight ropes. Quiet squeal tore through your chest as huge hand squeezed your cheeks harshly, yanking your face upward, forcing you to look up at König. Your bleary from tears eyes fixed upon two black holes in his mask, where man’s eyes supposedly were.
- I said “wanna hear it”? - slasher gritted out, his tone harsh as he put heavy emphasis on every syllable he uttered, making you shrink even further into yourself. You nodded your head hastily, not wanting to try out your luck any more.
- Y-yes, - you stammered, your voice giving out making your response sound more like a kitten’s squealing rather than human speech. König stared at you for a few long silent seconds, your knees beginning to tremble from both fear and painful exposure to hard flooring, which soon irradiated onto the whole of your body.
- I’ve been watching you guys, you know? For a few weeks now, - he said nonchalantly, his grip on your face loosened, long fingers tracing intricate shapes on your cheeks and temples, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ears, getting it out of your eyes. A wave of hysterical cries threatened to tear through your throat upon hearing his words, but you tried to suppress them as much as you physically could, staying still before him.
- Yes, - his voice sounded delicate - as if one of those passionate lovers who proclaimed their tender feelings. - Seen you guys do stuff… kiss, cuddle, fuck. A pathetic view, to be honest, - as he said so, his fingers came to tangle in your messy hair, massaging your scalp with soft movements. You felt sick. This man with a dagger bigger than your forearm clasped tightly in one hand, was caressing you so tenderly with another one - his unpredictable behaviour was making your guts churn.
He turned toward your boyfriend who was still thrashing harshly, struggling with all his might against secure confines of tight rope. Your gaze shifted towards your lover as well - the sight made your heart ache - his blood - some already caked and some fresh and shiny - covered the whole bottom of Paul’s face, a makeshift gag out of piece of some fabric was tied skilfully around his head - by the looks of it not to be untied by itself. His eyes met murderer’s, you could make out his muffled promises of killing the bastard, threats to not touch you and to get the fuck out of here. Murderer didn’t look impressed at all, staring silently at your man lying at his feet.
- Look at this pathetic scumbag - I tied your hands loosely, hoped for a bit of a fight, - harsh noise came from the speaker behind the mask, which you figured to be a sigh. König then turned back towards you, his head tilting to the side slightly, you could practically feel his intense gaze prickling on your skin. - Why are you even wasting your time on this piece of shit? He can’t even fuck you right, and you expected this piece of shit to actually protect you from danger? Provide for you?
Hot tears rushed down your cheeks at his words, as you stayed silent, not knowing what to say. König sighed again, rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the tension in sore muscles, his neck popping loudly, making you jolt at the sound.
- Now, my plan is - how about I show you what a real man is like? Set the bar high for you, hm? - he said, a cool glimmer of blood-stained blade caught your eye as König twirled his knife skilfully in between thick fingers barely twenty centimetres away from your face. He noticed your attention shifting from him to his little tool, softly nudging your chin up to look back at him. - Oh, don’t worry darling. If you’re being a good girl that thing won’t touch you, deal?
You nodded your head frantically, swallowing a thick lump in your throat. - Anything, - you choked out, voice hoarse and barely audible but it was enough for him to hear.
- I like the eagerness, - murderer chuckled, straightening his back from semi-crouching position to stand to his full height. His hand left your face with a small pinch on your tear-stained cheek, tossing his knife from one hand to another as if he was juggling; finally gripping the handle tight König pointed the tip of sharp blade towards your boyfriend: - I want you to watch. You dare closing your eyes and she’s dead.
Your eyes widened in panic, staring fearfully at Paul, mouthing silent “please” at him. Maniac shifted his attention back to you; he put his knife into its holster which was attached to his thigh with tight leather straps, you noted that he didn’t secure the handle, making it easier to pull the knife out in one move if needed.
You watched as if in slow motion how his hands came to the waistband of his black jeans, undoing the button and tugging zipper down, pulling front pants pieces apart. Your gaze darted up towards his mask-covered face, confusion mixed with terror written on your face - your insides dropped as you finally realised what he actually meant.
- What? Doll, I promised to show you what a real man is like, - one big hand came to rest on the crown of your head, not pushing nor pulling, just staying there securely. - Now I warn you, you dare using your teeth - I’ll pluck every single one of them before gutting you like a fucking pig, you get it?
Your breath stopped upon hearing his words, shoulders started shaking as strong bout of adrenaline rushed through your veins, making your poor heart pound crazily, threatening to break your ribs from the inside. You nodded your head vigorously, all of a sudden extremely aware of the tight rope binding your wrists together, how your fingers prickled from constricted blood flow, how much your shoulders ached from being pulled back for so long.
- Good girl. Now, go on, - König said, lightly pushing your head towards his clothed crotch. You had to crane your head up painfully because of the height difference between you two in order to even reach König’s private parts. You gazed up at him, unsure of what exactly he wanted you to do, but he just stared down at you silently, not offering any instructions nor comments.
You darted your tongue out, licking a noticeable bulge showing through his boxers, soaking black fabric in your spit. You did it again, and again, fear and adrenaline subduing feelings of humiliation and shame, you could hear your boyfriend’s muffled “get your fucking hands off her”, but König didn’t seem to pay slightest attention to the other male. You tilted your head to the side, pressing your opened mouth to the thick shaft that was trapped between man’s v-line and his tight underwear, sucking on it softly. That made slasher heave a deep sigh, hand on your head tangled deeper in your hair, holding you firmly in place, indicating for you to keep going.
- Now pull my boxers down, - psycho ordered a few seconds later; his voice, though contorted by voice changer, now sounded deeper. You looked frightfully up at him, your hands still bound tightly behind your back.
- But… how? - you asked, a spark of hope igniting in your chest as thought of him untying your hands popped up in your head. But it was extinguished just as quickly as it appeared with his next words:
- Well, think about it, - he shrugged his broad shoulders ever so slightly, your mind racing at the speed of light as you tried to figure out the problem.
You opened your mouth, moving as slowly as you could to indicate that you didn’t mean to do anything reckless - baring your teeth and gently hooking the elastic of his boxers, your canines grazing slightly against warm skin of murderer’s lower stomach. Once you secured your hold on elastic you pulled down on it, managing to slide it down slightly. König’s hard cock sprung right out, standing tall and thick against his clothed stomach - tip was concealed by brownish foreskin, and your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. Your attention was caught by two symmetrical rows of shiny silver balls running along mighty shaft, glistening coldly is white light of living room’s chandelier.
- Now, doll, that’s what a real good cock looks like, - man said, his free hand came to wrap around thick shaft, pumping it a few times to reveal pink head, a shiny bead of precum sitting in the middle of it. - Open wide, princess. And mind your teeth.
You let your mouth fall open, sticking your tongue out; his cock was standing too high for you to reach it in your kneeling position so König had to guide his length down to your lips, your mouth managing to only take his tip and a little bit more inside.
With your mouth full of other man’s cock your eyes wandered in the direction of your boyfriend; thrashing around seemed to finally exhaust him, crimson blood oozed out of the wound in his stomach. His chest was heaving in tandem with his wheezing breath, angry tears streamed down his temples as he stared with fierce anger at your abuser, the sight made your throat clench, causing you to gag on killer’s hefty length.
- Aw, poor girl is not used to a decent cock, huh? Tell me, did the even reach down to your throat? Lemme guess - he was cumming a few minutes after shoving his pathetic ten centimetres in this precious mouth, wasn’t he? - König chuckled darkly, suddenly pushing down onto your head, forcing you to take half his length down your tight throat, keeping you in place as you choked around his thickness, metal balls were rubbing painfully against the softness of your tongue, irritating sensitive buds of it.
Murderer’s free hand joined the one resting on your nape, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail, fixating your head in one position. Tears of pain and humiliation rushed down your reddened cheeks as man fucked his massive cock into your tight throat; his pace was erratic, without certain rhythm, making it hard for you to synchronise your breathing with his irregular thrusts. Your lungs burned with lack of air, dainty kneecaps ached from standing for so long on hard flooring, surely bruising your tender skin.
He let go of you only when you actually started to choke, your whole face reddening with exertion; thick strings of spit mixed with precum connected your swollen lips to glistening pink tip, fat tears rolled down your cheeks, dripping down your chin onto the floor below. A choked cry tore through your chest as massive hands manhandled you around, forcing your head down so that your wet cheek was pressed against cold hardwood facing your boyfriend, your back arched and ass up high in the air. König kneeled down behind you, backs of your thighs were touching coarse denim sitting snugly around his legs, cold metal rivets of his holster contrasting brutally with warmth of your skin. Broad palms kneaded on soft pudge of your ass, delivering a strong smack to the swell of your buttcheek, impact softened slightly by the fabric of your shorts and his glove.
Your boyfriend started thrashing as hard as ever, grunting and screaming as much as he could as König pulled your shorts along with your underwear down to your knees, huge hands resting on the bottom part of your ass, thumbs spreading your pussy open. Silent tears ran down from your eyes, gathering in a small puddle on the floor; you heard maniac tut behind your back, a pad of thumb swiped up and down your slit, making you jolt from sudden contact.
- What a shame, - he heaved a deep sigh, straightening his shoulders and looking up at your boyfriend. - She’s wet, dude.
A few small sobs left you upon his words. Paul tried talking back, but a horrible bubbling sound came out of his throat - gag in his mouth was completely red with absorbed blood, some of it oozed down the corners of his mouth, adding to the bloody mess on his face. You sobbed at the sight, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid looking at horrible picture.
- Turns out our little slut likes it rough, yeah? - König mocked, leaning over your frail form, one meaty forearm rested next to your head, huge chest pressed tightly against your back, overstimulating your thus on age senses. Terrifying mask was barely a few centimetres afar from your face as man whispered right next to your ear: - Did he ever fuck you rough?
His heavy gaze was fixed expectantly upon you, huge hand that still rested on your ass squeezed your flesh painfully, causing you to cringe. - No, - you mouthed, but that was more than enough for him. Slasher hummed in acknowledgment, straightening back into his kneeling position.
- Don’t worry love, I’ll give this pretty pussy what she needs, - psycho said, fisting his leaking cock a few times before aligning swollen tip against your tight entrance. With slow but persistent push of his hips König forced one third of his length inside your poor cunt, fresh dose of hot tears rushed from your eyes, pain of penetration adding to the ache all over your body.
With a sharp snap of his massive hips man forced as much of his cock as it��d go into you. Loud yelp tore through your throat, scratching it painfully; stretch of his girthy cock was too much for your pussy to take, ladder of piercings adding to unpleasant feeling. Tender walls fought against his thick length, such sudden stretch caused your muscles to reflexively constrict around him more, drawing a throaty groan to tumbling out of killer’s broad chest.
- There there, dearie. Poor pussy so used to pathetic cocks, can’t even take me whole, - König said in fake compassion, you felt his length throb within you, twitching a few times. Strong hands held you in place tightly, preventing you from moving your hips even for a millimetre.
Murderer generously allowed you a minute or so for your poor cunny to accommodate to his size before beginning to move his hips in shallow but quick thrusts. Soon enough König was full on fucking into you on rapid pace, your whole body jolting forward with intensity of his mighty thrusts, strong arms yanking you back in place every so often.
One of his deadly hands slithered around your ridiculously smaller form, index and middle fingers danced across your spread around his dick folds, causing your stomach to tense at sudden contact. Free hand yanked you up by the rope binding your wrists, urging you to raise your torso; your shoulder blades were pressed tightly against his heaving chest, warmth emitted off him like a fucking radiator.
Clothed fingertips rubbed tight relentless circles on your clit, causing thick pleasure to rush up and down your spine and your back arch uncontrollably. Your teeth clenched to suppress all the small sounds threatening to spill out of your lips; you felt König’s massive form shift behind you, cold plastic of horrendous mask pressed against the side of your face - he was whispering right into your ear, soft voice real and unchanged:
- I’m gonna slit your fucking throat if you’re not using it, - that caused a shiver to rush down your spine, arising goosebumps in its wake. You moaned out, doing as the murderer wanted, letting all the small sighs and moans flow freely from your lips, your voice lower than usual from all the crying and throatfucking.
Your breathing became shallow; your head just wasn’t working anymore - emotional shock along with physical abuse drained you out of all strength - you were a mere rug doll in psycho’s tight grip, and he could do whatever he pleased with you, you were too exhausted to fight back anyway.
Consciousness started to slip out of your grasp, vision blurred out with tears, dark spots appearing in the corners; König’s throbbing dick pounded your poor pussy mercilessly, thick cockhead nudged against all the sweet spots inside of you, his piercings stimulating you even further as if in spite of all your attempts to resist pleasure psycho was forcing onto you. A tight coil curled in the pit of your stomach, threatening to explode with every harsh snap of mighty hips against your reddened ass. Soaked with your slick fabric of König’s gloves felt overbearing against your clit, his fingers never once stopping to rub your sensitive nub.
A few moments later something deep within you snapped, like a rubber band stretched to its limit - suddenly the world around you turned white, ringing noise filled your ears as you had the most painful orgasm of your life being wrung out of you; your body quivered and thrashed in serial killer’s strong grip, unintelligible sounds and words poured out of your lips, barely louder than a whisper. And then everything became quiet. Soft velvet of darkness enveloped your bruised and exhausted body; you were drowning in warm waves of sleep, not finding it in yourself to try and fight them off. You gave in happily, trusting yourself in welcoming hands of darkness and quiet, afar from horrible reality, afar from fear and danger.
It felt as if your head was splitting in two - horrible ache settled somewhere deep inside of your brain, pain irradiated from within to the outsides of both hemispheres, causing you to groan in agony quietly in. Your whole body hurt, eyelids felt swollen and heavy even as they were closed; and then suddenly your eyes snapped open.
You were lying on cold hardwood flooring in your boyfriend’s living room, shorts and underwear still pulled down to your knees, but your hands now free from rope. You pulled your bottoms back up, hot tears pooling in your eyes as you let out a choked sob. You felt wretched, disgusting, dirty.
- Paul? - you called out to your boyfriend, the sound of your own voice startling you - hoarse and scratchy, total opposite from your usual octave.
As you turned around your breath got caught up in your chest, bitter ball of bile got stuck in your throat - you felt like you were about to throw up.
Here lay Paul - pale and lifeless, dull eyes staring blankly into nothingness, gag still fixed tightly around his head, now brown with dried out blood. Some of his insides spilled out of the gaping cut across his stomach, lying on the floor in a small heap right next to him, huge puddle of blood spread out on the floor, getting into all small cracks and gapes in wooden flooring.
And on the wall behind, in strange brownish color that looked all too similar to the caked blood on your boyfriend’s face, in sprawling handwriting were words:
SEE YOU SOON ♡
Slasher! König Masterlist
Another a/n: I’m planning on making it a series - let me know what you guys think<3 Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writes some love - we live off feedback<3
#cod könig#slasher!könig#slasher!konig#könig#könig cod#könig modern warfare#könig smut#könig x reader#könig x you#könig call of duty#könig x reader smut#call of duty#cod#cod smut#call of duty smut#cod modern warfare#cod mw#konig cod#call of duty x you#call of duty modern warfare#kortac
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Sweetest Girl (Chapter Two)
Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Warning(s): discussion of disability
Word Count: 2200, Part 2/?
Author's Note: I was able to finish chapter 2! I'm sorry for the massive delay since positing any writing, it's been a time recently. I'll keep doing my best but pls don't hold it against me if I don't post for a while again. I still care about Regina so so much. Thank you to bestie @sapphicantics for helping me go back to this and reading it first :P
Summary: Reader goes over to Regina's house to work on some more chemistry lessons.
Part 1
Friday’s chemistry lecture was cut off by the dismissal bell and the teacher frustratingly called out as students were already busting through the door, “quiz on Monday! Don’t forget and study hard this weekend!”
You were packing up your notes when five perfectly manicured fingernails rapped on the corner of your desk.
You looked up and met the blonde's eyes.
“So quiz on Monday, can I get some extra tutoring this weekend?”
You nodded slowly, “do you want me to come to your place?”
“I do.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want -“
“I already told you, yes. Stop being so weird about it. Tomorrow. Come over around lunchtime. My mom will feed us then we can work.”
You bit your lip and then nodded again, “okay.”
Regina gave you her version of a smile and then flicked her hair behind her shoulder as she left the classroom.
You saw that the teacher had been watching your exchange.
“It’s working,” they said, “whatever you’re doing. Her homework was better.”
“You definitely can’t tell me that.”
“Just keep it up. She’ll be okay.”
You smiled and nodded, hugging your books to your chest and leaving the classroom.
After a twenty-five minute walk, you were standing at the end of the driveway to the George residence.
You looked up at the massive house in awe. It was clearly a new build. Likely custom-designed by the Georges. Two stories. Huge yard. You imagined an underground pool and a deck with a built-in, year round jacuzzi in the back. A movie theater and second kitchen in the basement. A yoga room with a Peleton for Ms. George. Master bath with a soaking tub.
You were afraid to go in.
You stood outside and stared for a minute longer before finally walking up the driveway (not made of asphalt or cement, but pristine white rocks). You walked past Regina’s Jeep, a Mercedes, and an Audi all parked (as well as a children’s Barbie Jeep abandoned in the lawn, belonging to Regina’s younger sister you assumed).
You giggled at that. You imagined Regina either beaming with pride or fuming with rage at the idea of her little sister wanting a matching car to Regina.
Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the front door and waited for a moment, hearing a faint “get the door!” from inside.
Regina opened the door, “hey, did you find parking on the street?”
“Oh, I didn’t drive.”
“Someone dropped you off then? Do you have a ride home after?”
You shook your head, “I walked.”
“What the fuck?”
A woman called out from inside the house, “Regina! Language!”
Regina clenched her jaw and inhaled slowly through her nose, flaring her nostrils.
“It’s not a big deal,” you responded quietly.
Regina rolled her eyes, “I’ll drive you home when we’re done, Jesus Christ.”
“You really don’t have to drive me home, it’s okay.”
“Shut up, it’s literally nothing. Now come inside you weirdo.”
You followed Regina in, and the interior of the house was even more grand than the exterior.
You didn’t have much time to take it all in before Regina’s mom was pouncing on you and pulling you into a hug then holding your shoulders and examining you head to toe, “well aren’t you a cute little thing!? I love meeting Regina’s new friends.”
“She’s my tutor mom.”
“Cute and smart, then! Well I hope the two of you become friends, Regina needs good influences in her life.”
“Mom.”
Ms. George raised her hands in mock-surrender, “Sorry! I’m just trying to be helpful, my goodness.”
You tried to force a smile and fidgeted with the zipper of your jacket awkwardly.
“Did you make us snacks?”
“Oh yes!” Ms. George trotted back into the kitchen and came back with a tray stacked with a variety of finger foods and fruity little drinks complete with excessive garnishes. She passed the tray to you, “here you ladies go. Study hard!”
“Thanks,” Regina didn’t wait around any longer before starting up the staircase to the second floor and expecting you to follow behind.
“Um, it was nice meeting you!” You directed to Ms. George, “you have a beautiful home.”
“Thank you sweetie-“
“Hurry up.” Regina cut her mom off while standing at the top of the steps with a hand on her hip.
You rushed up the rest of the steps and followed Regina into her room. She immediately went to her floor-length mirror and adjusted her hair while you set the tray of snacks down on her vanity.
“Not there,” Regina snapped, as if it was obvious.
“Where then?”
Regina pointed lazily toward the ottoman at the foot of her bed and you obeyed, setting the tray down and then helping yourself to a handful of homemade trail mix.
Regina came over and sat down on her bed and grabbed a single celery stick to eat.
You must have made a face that Regina noticed because she raised an eyebrow at you, “what?”
“Hmm?”
“Why are you making that face?”
“Oh, nothing, I just don’t like celery.”
“You don’t have to eat it.”
“I know, Regina.” You could feel yourself shrinking as your shoulders slumped.
“It’s like negative calories so.”
“Well, actually…”
Regina narrowed her eyes at you.
“Nevermind. So, do you want to work on material for the quiz?”
Regina threw herself backwards and collapsed into her duvet in exasperation, “ugggghhhh!”
“That’s why you wanted me to come over, right?”
“Well duh… I’m just tired.”
“I’m sorry.”
Regina propped herself up on her elbows and looked at you, “for what?”
“That you’re tired?”
She scoffed, “you don’t need to be sorry about that. See? You’re too nice.”
You shrugged, “I guess it’s just something people say.”
“Oh? So you agree, then? That niceness is a facade that people use to disguise their true feelings?”
You shook your head, incredulous, “I didn’t say that.”
“Are you really, actually sorry that I’m tired or are you just saying it, then?“
You took a beat to think and then answered emphatically, “I am actually sorry. It’s called empathy. I feel bad that you feel rundown, and if you aren’t up for studying today, I would understand.”
She raised an eyebrow again in her classic fashion, “I guess I just really don’t understand that. Why would you feel bad that I’m tired? And why wouldn’t you be upset if I wasn’t in the mood to study after you put in the effort to walk all the way here?”
“I don’t know why, that’s just how I feel. What should I say instead? I don’t care that you’re tired, suck it up I’m here to make you better at chemistry?”
“Maybe you should,” Regina shrugged.
You shook your head, “I don’t want to say that. That’s not helpful to anyone. Are you going to retain any of the content we go over if I push you to do it when you don’t feel good?”
“How do you know I’m not lying or just complaining for the sake of it? Maybe I need to be pushed.”
“Fine, give me a reason then. Why are you tired?”
Regina thought about it for a minute, then her voice came out surprisingly quiet, “you know the accident from last year? The bus thing?”
You nodded.
She sighed, “It’s been a long recovery. I don’t usually talk about it with anyone.”
“You don’t have to talk about it with me if you don’t feel comfortable, but… I am here if you did want to. Talk about it, I mean.”
Regina didn’t say anything. She started to pick at the skin around her fingernails.
You recognized the behavior right away because you do it too. Without thinking, you moved to sit across from her on the bed and reached out, clasping your hand around hers.
The blonde stared at you shocked.
“Shit, I… I’m sor-“ you began, starting to pull away.
She didn’t let you go, “It’s okay. Don’t apologize.”
The gesture must have cracked her armor, if only a little. She shrugged her shoulders and explained, “the accident injured my neck and back so I’m doing physical therapy twice a week for that and I’ve been diagnosed with something called POTS. So my heart is all fucked up or something. I'm exhausted and in pain most of the time even though I'm taking like six different meds every day.”
“That sounds really hard.”
“But I feel like…” her voice failed her. She frowned, cleared her throat, and started again, “I feel like I shouldn’t complain about it… wouldn’t be cute to bitch about it when everyone…” she lowered her head and stared at her comforter, “when everyone thinks I probably deserved it.”
You frowned and squeezed her hand, “do you think you deserved to get hit by a bus?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. It feels that way sometimes. Like I was supposed to learn some kind of lesson from it. Like I was supposed to suddenly be a better person and be grateful and be an inspiration or whatever. But that’s like some biblical bullshit. And I’m not a better person. I'm still just me but now my body doesn’t work and people don’t even bother pretending to like me anymore.” The dam had burst. The corners of her eyes started to sting with painful tears. “I’m not grateful. I don’t think what happened to me was an inspiration or whatever. I just wish I wasn’t sick and I wish that people didn’t expect anything from me.” With that, she retracted her hands from you, quickly wiped her face with her sleeves and she continued to look anywhere but right at you.
“Regina, thank you for sharing that with me. I want to help you as much as I can.”
“Why, though?”
“Because I want to.”
Regina met your eyes again, scrutinizing you. Trying to find deception that wasn’t there.
When she finally gave up she just said, “I don’t understand you.”
You laughed, “I’ve gathered that.”
She smiled and then rolled her eyes.
“Hey, do me a favor, okay? Go change into something comfy and then lets just watch something for a bit. Whatever you want. We can recharge a little and then see about studying, and if it doesn’t happen, it’s okay.”
“Are you being serious?”
“Yes.”
Regina breathed a sigh of relief and then visibly relaxed before getting up and walking to her large closet. She came back out a few minutes later, having changed into baggy sweats. She wordlessly sat down at her vanity, tied her hair up in a loose bun, cleaned her makeup off and then replaced her contact lenses with glasses.
You smiled to yourself while watching her. She caught you looking over in the mirror and you quickly looked away before seeing her reaction if any.
When she came back to the bed, laptop in hand, she said, “I’d usually never let anyone see me like this.”
“Well, then I consider myself lucky. Unless you don’t plan on letting me leave here alive now that I’ve seen you ‘like this,’” putting air quotes around your words.
“Cheeky…” Regina smirked and sat back down on the bed next to you, constructing a pile of pillows against the headboard to lean on, “you wouldn’t know until it was too late, though.”
You smiled as she continued.
“I guess I just don’t really care right now.”
“Well, I’m glad that you feel at ease with me. Not that you’re any less pretty than before.”
“You liar!”
“What? I’m not lying!”
“I’m not pretty right now. I’m all puffy and my hair is gross and I have my stupid glasses on and I’m wearing my mom’s old college sweatshirt.”
You shrugged, “you are pretty, Regina. You have freckles, I didn’t know that. And your hair looks cute like this, the little strands framing your face… I don’t know, you look pretty to me.”
Regina narrowed her eyes at you and then shook her head, “okay, whatever. Let’s just… watch something now.” She redirected her attention to opening up streaming on her laptop, “have you ever seen Real Housewives?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Oh my god. Okay I’m catching up on New Jersey right now, I’ll try to fill you in.”
You smiled and nodded.
She started the show and slid a little closer to you so that she could rest the laptop on both of your laps.
You ended up watching the show all evening, only interrupted by Ms. George bringing some dinner upstairs for you both along with Regina’s meds.
“Sweetheart, you look… comfortable.” Ms. George remarked, her tone unmistakably judgemental.
The corners of Regina’s mouth downturned just slightly.
“Yeah you know we just decided to have a relaxing night. No need to be all done up.” You smiled, “thank you so much for bringing us food, Ms. George.”
The woman was thrown off and you felt victorious.
“Oh, of course. I’ll… go get you girls some popcorn.” Ms. Geroge left and shut the door behind her.
Regina released a breath she was holding and whispered, “thank you.”
“For what?”
“For… for what you just did.”
You shrugged and took a bite of food, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Regina’s eyebrows raised and then she just laughed in disbelief before turning the show back on and saying, “you continue to surprise me…”
Next Chapter
#regina george x reader#regina george fanfiction#regina george renee rapp#mean girls 2024#regina george fluff#mean regina george#my fanfiction#my writing#original writing#fem reader#soft regina george#reneé rapp
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So this is a bit of a continuation of this blurb bc I decided that I’m going to make a little AU based on weird girl reader. Rafe calls you “batty” or “bats” and you’re so beautiful, like an angel, but there’s just something a little off about you. You’re always asking Rafe weird, borderline morbid questions out of nowhere and sometimes you look at him like you’re going to rip his throat open and drink his blood. But he still loves you more than anything!! No warnings really, just weird girl being weird girl but still 18+MNDI!!
“Hey Rafe, Rafey wake up…” You shake his shoulder and when that doesn’t work you resort to tapping his cheek with the pad of your finger. “Raaafe”
“Baby? The fuck you waking me up for?” Rafe stirs, his eyes squinting as they adjust to the dark room. He practically jumps when he turns his head to see you sitting over with wide eyes as you play with the ends of your hair, a borderline wicked smile plastered in your face. “Oh hell no, you’re not about to ask me some weird ass shit in the middle of the night. Go to bed.”
“But, I wasn’t even going to ask you a question. Well maybe it’s kind of a question.” You push your bottom lip out into a pout and he groans, knowing you won’t let him go back to sleep until you get whatever it is off your chest.
“Fine. What is it?” Rafe raises an eyebrow at you expectantly and you practically sigh in relief.
“I was really just wondering if you died would you leave me your heart? Like, in your will you could put that so before they cremate or bury you, speaking of, what do want done with your body when you die?” The tension leaves your body as you sigh and continue to give him that unabashed wide eyed stare. “Anyways, basically what I’m asking is that if you died before me would you make sure they give me your heart?
“Jesus Christ, bats, you really woke me up to ask me that?” Rafe groans and runs his hands down his face.
“I mean, yeah. I was having a hard time sleeping and I was just thinking about how if you died I’d want a physical piece of you, is all.” Your eyes drop as play with the hem of your little nightgown and Rafe can tell you’re about to get upset so he leans up on his elbow so he can gently grip onto your chin, tilting your face so you’re looking at him again.
“Baby doll, if that’s what you really want then yeah, you can have my heart. You already do anyways.” You let out a squeal before a fit of giggles takes over. You launch yourself at Rafe, wrapping your arms around his neck and causing him to fall flat on the bed again with you on top of him.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you daddy.” You nuzzle into his neck, running your nose along the smooth skin before sinking your teeth into it.
“Alright, alright, you got your answer. Now let’s go back to fuckin’ sleep.” Rafe’s hand grips onto the back of your head, he smooths your hair down and places a kiss on your forehead. He wraps one arm around your waist to maneuver you onto your side with your head on his chest. “I love you, lil’ weirdo.”
“I love you too, daddy.” You hum as you nuzzle your cheek against his chest, drifting off within minutes.
#Weird girl!reader#Dolly writes#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe concepts#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine
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Asleep
Roman can't sleep, so he fucks you to tire himself out. 2.6k Tags - it's a mixed bag today, guys. stepdaddy!roman, smut, somno kink, unprotected piv, roman roy jerking off, daddy kink, blowjobs, dirty talk, cunnilingus, creampie, comeplay, masturbation, does roman roy want to be your father or fuck you, both, general fucked up-ness, biting, bruising, alcoholic mom mentions, roman roy getting a little emotional and teary-eyed, mentions of roman's balls for that one anon who knows who they are A/N - howdy!! it's been a while since we've heard from stepdaddy but i've been on a somno kick and well, here we are. I planned for a stepdaddy somno fic to come later but I’ve outlined the rest of the series so…whoops. Anywho, i missed this weirdo so much and i hope you enjoy ♡ love ya love ya. Also this is like loosely proofread so if you see glaring issues, let a girl know 💀
Stepdaddy!Roman Masterlist
It’s so cold. You’re not sure what it is about your room in particular, but when it gets cold out, your bedroom seems to take the hardest hit. Roman won’t let you keep a space heater in there, citing your inability to ever blow out your scented candles or turn off your heat tools for your hair. He doesn’t trust you to not accidentally start a fire in his house.
You cup your palms and bring them to your mouth, then blow hot air into the little space you create with your hands. It helps momentarily, but your toes are still numb.
Sliding out of bed, you tiptoe out of your room and into the dark hallway. Next to your mother’s and Roman’s shared bedroom is a guest room, which is where Roman sleeps. Your mom spends a lot of nights on the couch, but sometimes she comes to bed and wakes Roman up in doing so, who already has a difficult time staying asleep. It’s just easier for him to have his own space, for a multitude of reasons.
After opening the guest bedroom door, you find Roman sleeping on his side, moonlight casting a gentle glow on his pale skin. As you approach him, you see better his toned biceps, his soft and slim middle, how that curve deepens between his ribcage and his hips. The difference in width between his forearm and his wrist. Roman’s such a beautiful man.
Carefully, quietly, you slip under his covers and inch yourself closer to him on the sheets until your tummy is pressed against his back. You wriggle your arms underneath his and tuck your feet between his legs, then squeeze him tight. Roman’s body heat soothes you immediately as you press your cheek against his bare shoulder.
Reprieve is only momentary. A split second, maximum. Roman jolts awake, hissing at the feeling of your cold hands and feet on his warm body. He’s groggy and confused, and pushes you away frantically. He knows it’s you when you cuddle up to him again and he can smell you as you wrap your body around him once more. “Jesus Christ, kid. You’re fucking freezing, get away from me.”
“So cold,” you mumble, nuzzling closer to him. Roman’s on his back now, and you’re resting your head on his chest. You’d crawl inside his skin if you could.
“It’s rude to invite yourself into people’s beds, do you know that? Or did you miss that memo.”
“Mhm, I missed that one,” you yawn.
Roman chuckles. It’s sort of nice being woken up like this, by you, despite how unpleasant your cold extremities feel. Roman’s heart swells in his chest as he pulls you a little closer, pressing his nose against your hair. “C’mere and fucking give me these,” he huffs, taking your hands in both of his as he rubs them gently. “Before you give me frostbite.”
“I’m surprised it bothers you this much.” You wiggle your feet, rubbing them up and down on Roman’s legs to generate some friction. “I figured you’re so cold and heartless on the inside that you wouldn’t even notice.”
“Mm. That’s clever.”
Once Roman warms your hands enough, he lets them go and you wrap your arms around him again. Hands tucked under his torso, your head rising and falling a little with each of his rhythmic breaths. You’re curled up like a cat, soaking up all of him at this moment. The faint smell of his cologne and sweat, his warm breath on your skin. How soft he is. He’s tugged up your sleep shirt a bit, and his long fingers are now gently scratching up and down your back, soothing you right to sleep.
“This is all I am to you, huh? Just a fuckin’...human radiator-pillow hybrid thing.”
“Mhm,” you answer on autopilot, farther from conscious than unconscious. Roman can hear in the way you’re breathing that you’re dead to the world. He chuckles again, smiling as he looks down at your sleeping form. He kisses your nose and your forehead, then traces your facial features with his free hand, smirking at how your nose crinkles and your brows knit together. Your pouty lips. If you were awake, you’d call him an asshole for tickling you.
Roman puts two fingers on your chin, tilting your head back so he can kiss your lips. “Goodnight, baby girl.”
He just watches you. Watches and admires. He’ll go back to sleep in a few minutes, but for now, Roman savors the quiet, peaceful moment. You’re so limp, but clinging to him almost desperately. Roman knows it to be true by now, that you need him. Because you’re letting yourself need him, just like you used to. And inversely, Roman loves to feel needed by you. He feels valuable, he feels protective, masculine as he wraps his arms tighter around you. His arms are so much stronger when he uses them to hug you tight.
It’s been a long, long time since you’ve slept with him like this. Curled around his body, limbs entangled. It used to be a somewhat regular occurrence.
It started out when Roman would be going to bed, and as he walked past your bedroom he’d hear you whimpering and making other noises of distress. He’d let himself into your room to stop you from tossing and turning and thrashing, and then would hold you close as you babbled incoherently about your nightmare until you fell back asleep. Roman wonders if you remember that at all. It’s not like it was talked about.
And there’d be moments similar when you were younger, you’d have a fight with your mom that’d leave you in tears. Awful, screaming fights, that even scared Roman a little. He’d listen to it happen, safe from a different floor or separated by doors and drywall. How scared you must’ve been. Your mom would be drunk and belligerent, aggressive. When you left, she’d follow.
Roman always, always felt guilt for never sticking up for you. He carries that guilt even now. But when the screaming would end, and you’d tiptoe into your bedroom and cry alone, Roman would follow. He’d hold you close as you choked on your sobs, petting your hair. “You’re safe, you’re okay, kiddo. It’s just me and you,” he’d whisper, holding your trembling hand while he rubbed your palm with his thumb, pressing it into that little pad between your thumb and forefinger to try and soothe you. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t.
Pressure builds up behind Roman’s eyes as he recounts the memory, tears beginning to spill down his cheeks. “Jesus, fuck,” he whispers, wiping them away before they roll down his jaw and onto your forehead. He’s not gonna think about it anymore. He’s gonna go to sleep, holding you close and tight.
-
Hours have since passed. Maybe Roman’s gotten some sleep, but it’s hard to tell. Nothing real, at least. He lies awake, his skin damp from sweat. For someone so cold, you sure don’t absorb warmth very well. You seem to just insulate Roman’s own body heat. Roman scoots away from you to get some space, just a little, but you follow, and drape your thigh across his lap. As you move to get comfortable, you rub Roman’s crotch, his cock hardening in his boxer briefs.
“Oh, gr- that’s great. Fucking fantastic,” Roman whispers, moving your thigh off of his body. It’s was only seconds and already he’s rock hard, all thanks to you. He presses his palm against his bulge in search of relief, but it only worsens the sensation. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
Roman slips his hand beneath his briefs and pulls out his leaking cock, then spits in his palm and wraps his fingers around his length. He turns his head so that he can see you lying on your side, and hikes up your shirt, exposing your nude body. You’re not wearing any panties.
Roman watches you as he begins sliding his palm up and down, squeezing his fist tighter. Roman bites his lip as he thinks of you, thinks of being inside you. Fucking his hand is a means to an end, if only he could fuck you instead. Your mouth. Your cunt.
Roman slides his thumb over the tip of his cock, collecting the wet, sticky precum that sits upon his slit as he fucks his fist. He breathes shakily and quietly as he works himself, a little moan slipping out here and there. With Roman’s other hand, he reaches into his briefs and cups his balls, squeezing them gently as he pumps his cock. “Look what you fuckin’ - God, you suck,” Roman grunts, then spits in his hand again.
You pout, brows pinched together in annoyance as you grumble in your sleep.
“Shh- be quiet. Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Roman hushes you. He’s gotten a little carried away, and that’s what disturbed your slumber. Roman takes a deep breath and slows down, taking his time as he pumps his fist. It seems that the gentle, rhythmic shaking of the bed as Roman fucks himself rocks you back to a deep sleep. How fucking twisted…
…Yet it makes Roman harder all the same. And he tries, but his fist isn’t cutting it. Roman bends forward to tug his briefs off all the way, tossing them on the ground, then carefully shifts on the bed so that he’s kneeling right by your head. He adjusts you on the pillow, tilting your face just a little so that he can fit the head of his cock between your lips. “You gonna let daddy fuck that pretty mouth? Hm, baby girl?”
Roman inches his cock into your mouth little by little.
“You’re sleeping. And in my bed,” he adds. “So it’s not like you have much of a choice, do you?”
With that, Roman buries his cock in your mouth, sliding it towards the back of your throat. You accept the intrusion so gracefully and with such ease, but a small part of Roman wishes he could watch your eyes widen as you choke on his cock, feel you gag and sputter on him. Roman will just have to make a mess of you himself.
He pulls himself out of your mouth, his shaft soaked in your saliva and glistening under the soft glow of the moonlight peeking in through the window. He taps your cheek with the tip of his cock, dragging it from cheek to cheek, across your lips. He pushes it back inside, burying himself all the way so that his balls rest against your skin. Roman draws his hips back and forth, fist tangled in your hair as he fucks your mouth gently.
But it’s not enough.
He misses the warmth of your body, the feeling of your skin against his. Roman pulls out of your mouth and gently shifts you onto your back, then backs down the bed. He spreads your legs wide and fuck, he can fucking smell you. That sweet, musky arousal between your thighs, that scent Roman’s committed to memory and yet, nothing compares to experiencing it in the present moment. He pushes your knees back toward your chest slowly, little by little, until you’re laid out like a platter for him. You’d be so shy if you were awake right now, fighting against Roman to close your legs. It turns Roman on more, knowing that you have no say in how he sees you, how he fucks you. “I can do fucking whatever I want to you, huh?” he breathes, bending down so he can kiss your inner thighs. “Whatever I want. And you don’t know a thing.”
He kisses your asshole, rimming the tight muscle with his tongue before dipping it inside, pulling it out again so he can kiss his way up your cunt. He nips and sucks at your slick folds, your arousal soaking his face. When his lips attach to your clit and he sucks in just the way he knows that makes you squirm in discomfort, tugging at his hair as you push and pull away from him. You breathe heavily, panting and whimpering in your sleep. “Yeah, you don’t like it when daddy kisses you like that when you’re awake,” he murmurs. “Sensitive fucking thing.”
Roman licks you a while longer, tracing the beautiful shape of your pussy with his tongue. He presses his nose against your clit, rubbing it around in slow circles. With his fingers, Roman traces your lips, toying with your damp curls. He loves the way your pubic hair tickles his face, the softness of it when you let it grow out a little longer.
After eating his fill, Roman kisses his way up your torso, taking care to lick and tease your nipples. He slots himself between your thighs, his face buried in your neck as he notches his tip inside your slick entrance. And with one slow slide, he fills you. You’re so fucking warm and wet and pliant, taking him so well. Roman braces himself with one hand above you, the other on your hip as he squeezes the flesh there. “You’re so nice to me when you’re sleeping,” he whispers. “Oh, fuck. You’re so good.”
Roman sets a pace, softly biting your skin as he rolls his hips into you. Each of his thrusts, every rock of his hips into your warm, wet, cunt has him biting into you harder, bruising you. He kisses your lips as he fucks you, relishing in their softness.
“Rome,” you whimper, voice thick with sleep.
“Shh, you’re okay, kiddo” he breathes in between kisses, “Daddy’s here. It’s just me and you. I’m right here.”
Roman keeps kissing you, leaving your lips a swollen mess as he buries himself over and over inside you. “Fuck - I love, oh, fuck.”
Roman savors the feeling of you beneath him like this, the specific warmth of your body, your skin and his skin together. Roman’s thrusting builds quicker, rolling his hips a little more frantically while still maintaining that gentleness needed to keep you asleep. The pressure’s building in his balls and deep in his gut, his cock achingly hard and rigid. He pulls you flush against himself as he finishes, moaning while painting your insides as he milks himself inside of you, his muscles tensing and relaxing. Roman lets himself fall limp on top of you, his cock still inside you pulsing with every beat of his heart. He commits all of it - all of this - to memory. The private, secret pleasure of being the only one with knowledge of this moment. When Roman’s ready, he pulls out of you, his spend dripping from your hole and onto his bedsheets. He kisses you one last time before settling next to you, pushing you onto your side so he can curl his body around yours.
When you wake in the morning, Roman’s gone. There’s a faint smell of coffee in the air but it’s quiet, and you can assume Roman’s already left for work. You’re a dripping mess, likely from the dream you had. You don’t remember much - just sensations, the sound of panting, the feeling of pleasure between your thighs and the occasional picture of Roman. You spread your legs and reach for your cunt, tracing your folds. There’s a slight pain there, a feeling of sensitivity. Maybe you were grinding against Roman in your sleep. You waste no time, circling your clit with precision as you pump your own fingers inside your pussy, unknowingly fucking Roman’s come back into yourself as you come once, twice, three times.
In your bathroom, you turn on your shower. You take off your shirt and in the mirror, catch a glimpse of darkened, damaged skin on your shoulder. You trace the curved mark, the bruise tender under your fingertips.
-
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Too Good of an Arrangement- Charles Leclerc
Day 2 of Smutmass Lets Go!!!!!
Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader Words: 1.6k Warnings: Swearing, SMUT 18+ (Minors DNI), Fingering, Pure Sex tbh, praise kink & breeding kink Summary: They were best friends who fucked. An arrangement which satisfied them both. Today was just another day of the arrangement.
“You took your time”.
Charles had you pressed against the door the minute you had walked into his apartment, peppering kisses down your neck, you waist being held hostage by his hands. You didn’t try to stop him. All you had thought about during your shit day at work was this, so the minute he pulled you into his apartment, you happily complied; kicking your shoes off and starting to undo your belt.
At some point in the past two years of your friendship, you had formed a friend with benefits agreement with Charles. Originally, it was only supposed to be a short time thing. The idea of using each other for sex rather than finding random weirdos off the internet seemed far more appealing to both of you. However, you were now 6 months into said agreement and no plans to stop had been formed. You had both formed a routine, going out with mutual friends in the day, but in each other’s bed by the night.
During this time however, you had caught feelings. You tried to blame it on the sex- because Jesus Christ was it good. But deep down you always knew you had a small crush on your best friend.
Charles noticing your struggle with your belt laughed and moved to help you. His hands undid the loop and helped remove it from you, but he didn’t stop there. He looked at you, glint in his eye before he ran his hand over your clothed pussy. You’ve always hated teasing- something he knew, so the glare you gave him was completely justified. His hand moved to pop your jeans button and pull down your zipper, while you greedily tried to lift his shirt. He briefly paused his movements to let you remove his shirt before he was back on your neck. His hand went back to your waist respectively, but you were needy. You grabbed his hand before bushing it underneath your jeans into your pussy. You moaned at the contact whereas he laughed into your neck because of your movements.
“Such a needy slut for me, aren’t you Cherie?” He moved his hand to run between your soaking folds. You bit your lip at the feeling, feeling his fingers graze your clit before dipping to rest against your entrance. He tapped it twice before pulling away completely, moaning at the loss you turned to face him. Unbeknownst to you, Charles had moved his head so that when you turned, his lips would brush against yours. You whimpered at the feeling and pushed your lips against his. Allowing him to take the control, he deepened the kiss- stroking your mouth with his tongue. You could feel him trying to pull away and whimpered before trying to keep the kiss going, he laughed again at your neediness. “Now, now Cherie, you don’t want me to fuck you against this door, do you?”.
God that name, Cherie. It makes you fold every time, and he knows it. He pulls away completely before stepping to the side, allowing you to pass. Moving towards the bedroom, you halted briefly and turned to face him. One thing no one knew about you both was you both had a power complex; which was what made the sex so fun. Knowing Charles currently had the upper hand, you removed your top and jeans completely- flaunting to Charles your lack of bra and your lacy red thong. You mentally thanked yourself for your choice of underwear this morning, seeing Charles jaw go slack at the sight of you. You moved your hand up to pinch your nipple while tilting your head at Charles; biting your lip seductively. Charles loved to watch you touch yourself, so you knew you had the control again.
Charles moved closer to you, his eyes never swaying from your hand on your tit. You moved backwards, knowing the route off by heart to his bedroom.
Once you made it over the threshold you jumped onto the bed, letting your back fall against the soft mattress and you moaned at the feeling. Charles bed was so enticing, you could easily fall asleep on it after the day you’d had, but first you needed to sort the pulsing between your legs.
Charles had made his way over to you by now, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you tugging on your tits; small whimpers falling from your lips.
Noticing the lack of touch from him you sat up, he hadn’t moved from his spot which frustrated you to no end. It was like he wanted to send you feral today, something which you didn’t want.
“Charles, are you going to fuck me? Or shall I go home and use my toy instead?” It was a dangerous comment. He hated the idea of you using your toys instead of him to cum. Sometimes, for fun, he’d use your vibrator to edge you, before replacing it with his cock when you’d get close to the edge; loving the feeling of you milking his cock.
He moved suddenly, hands grabbing at your thong before pulling it to the side. He freed his cock from his pants before rubbing it across your folds, your wetness lubricating him ready. He groaned into your ear, loving the feeling. He could’ve cum like this, grinding over your pussy, feeling your little jerks when his tip would hit your clit. He could feel you becoming impatient, turning to look at you briefly. You were watching him, desperate for him to push his cock into you. Every time his tip ran over your opening, you’d lift your hips up- trying to slip it in unconsciously. He seemed to be enjoying this too much, so you moved your hand up to your lips. He watched your mouth open, little pants leaving his lips as you licked your palm, pushing your hand down to stroke him. He moaned at the feeling, you were giving him long harsh strokes and pressing it closer against your wet cunt.
“Does that feel good baby? Or does this feel better?” You didn’t give him time to respond before you pushed his tip into your opening, lifting your hips to take him further inside of you. Feeling him stretch your walls caused you to release a pornographic moan. Charles, becoming suddenly very alert, took over the control and pushed in further. He pulled out briefly to the tip again before thrusting his hips hard to meet yours. The angle wasn’t right, so Charles pulled out briefly before moving your leg from around your waist to his shoulder. Pushing in was like throwing a stone into water, your walls sucking him in and he was able to go fully in. You both moaned at the pleasure before starting to chase your orgasms. It was animalistic. Charles fucked you like a man starved, his hips jutting into yours while you kept lifting your hips up to match his. You were chanting in his ear, the mixture of ‘Fuck’ ‘Yes’ and ‘Charles’ fuelling him further to bring you both closer to the edge. The bed creaked underneath you, telling your neighbours just how good he was fucking you.
Charles was in awe. Watching you throw your head back and your tits bouncing to his every thrust. He kept thrusting harder, loving the pornographic moans coming out your mouth. He could feel you getting close, your slick walls clenching around him and the chants falling from your lips. He wasn’t that far away either, but the feeling of being inside you was driving you crazy. He changed positions, allowing him to grind into you. He loved watching you going up the bed from his thrusts. He lowered his mouth to your tits, biting on your nipple before swapping to the other one, feeling you clench around him at the feeling. He needed to make you cum, he needed to feel you cumming around his cock.
It was like mind reading when you lifted your head up to look into each other’s eyes, both eyes hazy with lust; mouths open at the feeling.
“Please” You were so close. Your hips grinding up into his, trying to chase your release. Little beads of sweat were dotted across his hairline, the ball in his gut building. You bit your lip, he could feel your tits grazing against his chest with every thrust. It was too much for you both to handle.
“Please, cum inside me Charles”
God he’d forgotten about your breeding kink. He groaned before dropping his head into your neck. His thrust changed to become animalistic once again, hearing you cry at the feeling.
‘Gonna fill your pussy up Cherie, is that what you want? My cum inside your pussy”.
You exploded around his cock at his words. You were whimpering into his ear, grinding shamelessly onto his cock. Charles followed you after, cumming into your pussy; breathing erratic.
You both stayed there for a minute, allowing your breathing to return to normal. Whenever you both have sex, it all becomes very overwhelming for both of you; whether that was down to the amazing sex or the unspoken feelings- you both didn’t know.
Charles groaned as he pulled out, sitting back to watch his cum drip out of you. You whimpered at the feeling, almost groaning from the overstimulation as Charles collected his cum before fucking it back into you with his fingers.
He stopped to look up at you. Both watching each other. Small, satisfied smiles rested on your face.
Neither of you two knew about the feelings for each other. Both too scared to tell each other how they truly felt in case this little deal had to stop.
Maybe this agreement was a bad idea, but neither of you were going to stop it. Not when it was just too good of an arrangement.
#formula 1#formula one#formula one x re#reading#romance#charles lecrelc#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#formula one smut#smut
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