#that fucking short ass italian

[just-miru]

if he isn't a loser i don't want him

[theostrophywife]

What's each boys fav sex position?

— switchin' the positions for you

a slytherin boys headcanon

theo loves cowgirl. there's just something about watching you ride him that drives him insane. eye contact is a must for him. mostly because he knows how flustered you get when his dead eyes lock in on yours, drinking in every inch of your body while you rock your hips and moan his name. he can’t help but admire you as your tits bounce, his large hands cupping them softly, before taking them into his mouth, groaning as he licks and sucks and marks you up. so good bella, just like that. la mia piccola troia perfetta. theo thinks it’s hot when you lose control, smirking and chuckling to himself when your pussy clenches while he speaks dirty, filthy things to you in italian. sometimes he’ll stop midway to eat you out because it’s his nature — theodore nott is a munch through and through. he never gets tired of the taste and if you even dare say that you’re too sensitive, he’ll yank you by the ankles and pry your legs apart because you’re done when he says you’re done. countless orgasms later, he’d return you to your original position, smirking as you straddle him with shaky legs. when you’re too tired to ride, he’d hold your hips in place and fuck into you, coaxing another orgasm even though you swore you couldn’t take any more. theo knows you can. he loves pushing you to your limits. watching you fall apart and cum on his cock is his favorite thing in the world. keep those pretty eyes open, cara mia. I want to watch you cum for me.

mattheo switches between missionary and doggystyle. if you’re being good, he loves taking the lead and doesn’t mind you being a pillow princess. he’d worship and adore you, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear while he hovers over you, that endearing smile tugging at his lips in response to your giggles about his curls tickling your nose. he’d lean down and give you a sweet kiss before making you see god. if you’re being bad, then there’s no mercy in him as he bends you over a bed, a desk, a counter — it doesn’t matter where or when, mattheo will fuck that attitude right out of you and make you wish you’d never acted like such a brat in the first place. he’d spank you until you’re crying, leaving red handprints all over your ass for days to come. he’d be rough and degrading, his fingers bruising your hips as he fucks you from behind. mattheo isn’t fooled by your tears, he knows it’s not out of pain but of pleasure. he’s well aware that you purposely push his buttons to get fucked dumb, so he edges you over and over again until you’re whining and sobbing. mattheo shuts you up by hooking his arm around your neck, his bicep holding you in place as he shakes his head in feigned disappointment. not so brave now, huh princess? where did all the fire go? now you’re begging me to fuck you like the needy little slut that you are. too fucking bad. if you want to cum, you’ll have to work for it, baby.

enzo is the designated big spoon. your cuddles always start off innocent enough, but it’s not long before he’s slipping a hand into your shorts, teasing your clit in tantalizing circles and smirking against your shoulder as you arch against him for more. you’re so wet that it’s almost too easy for him to slip his fingers right in, scissoring and pumping and curling them into that sweet spot that has you seeing stars. pretty soon, you’re pliant and needy, exactly how enzo wants you because it makes it that much easier to slip off your shorts and panties before rubbing himself against your folds. just the tip, honey. let me make you feel good, yeah? you nod, biting your lip. both of you know it’s never just the tip, but it gives you a sick little thrill as enzo fucks you in shallow little thrusts, edging you until you’re teary eyed and begging him to fuck you for real. enzo coos as he licks your tears away. aw, you’re so pretty when you beg, honey. how could I say no? it’s then that enzo finally sinks in, spreading your legs so he can bury himself so much deeper. you’re sobbing from relief, nothing but a blubbering mess as his skilled fingers circle around your swollen clit.

draco is a fan of the classic. missionary is his go to. he used to hate it before he met you because of how vulnerable the act is, but when he looks into your eyes, he knows that you see him for who he truly is — the good, the bad, and the ugly. you see every part of him and you love him through it all. you trust him through it all. you’re taking me so well, darling. such a good girl. he makes sure to reassure you every step of the way, communicating how much he loves and adores you with every action. draco kisses your ankles before yanking you towards him, the backs of your thighs pressed firmly against his chest as his cock kisses your cervix, both of you groaning from how deep he is inside you. his signet ring is cold against your stomach as he marvels at the size difference. can you feel me, princess? i’m so fucking deep. a choked moan is all you can manage before his ring makes it way down to your clit, vibrating against the already sensitive nub while draco worships your body.

tom is a no brainer. this man is a sucker for doggystyle. he loves bending you over and spreading your cheeks before thrusting all the way in, smirking when you gasp at how big he is. watching his cock slip in and out of your pussy as he sets a punishing pace is so satisfying to him. tom is dark and dominant, deliciously possessive as he lays his claim on you. he knows he’s the only one who can make you feel this good. tears streaming down your cheeks, profanities spilling from your lips, and fingers clutching at the sheets as he pounds into you over and over again. tom is relentless, driving you towards the brink and release just to pull you back and repeat the process until you’re so desperate that you’re outright begging. he sneers when you fuck yourself against him, eager to take as much of him as you can. your pussy suctions him in so greedily, the warmth of your walls hugging around his cock like a vice. such a needy little slut. you’re so desperate for my cock, aren’t you? look at you, all stretched out and still asking for more. you’re shameless as you rock against him, moaning when tom spanks your ass, his handprints seared into your skin. tom lets you have your fun, but at some point, he takes the reign again by yanking your hair back, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he stills your movements. you belong to me, doll. I own you — mind, body, and soul. don't you ever fucking forget that.

regulus is a certified freak. he may not look like it, but he’s hiding a basilisk in those trousers. he doesn’t really have a preference of position. this man just loves to fuck. most of the time, the two of you do it while standing because he loves the thrill of getting caught. sex with reggie is risky. he has a huge exhibition kink and definitely gets off on the thought of someone walking in while he’s balls deep in you. there’s been countless times when you’ve ended up fucking at a common room party or at a night out in hogsmeade or even during movie nights with your friends because he just can’t keep his hands off of you. his favorite is when you’re in the restricted section with your legs wrapped around him, skirt pulled up over your waist while he thrusts, making the shelves shake behind you. reg bites his lip as you sink down slowly, his eyes nearly rolling back as he watches his cock disappear between your folds. he’s got one hand around your waist to hold you up and the other against your mouth to keep you from moaning too loud and attracting attention. he also loves dirty talking in french because he knows it gets you so much wetter for him. j'aime quand tu me regardes comme ça, mon amour. the black family heirloom ring kisses the side of your neck as regulus wraps a hand around your throat, tilting your chin as his lips meet yours in a filthy kiss. you’re mine, love. mine and only mine.

[theosbaby]

sundress

theodore nott x fem!reader

masterlist

SUMMARY ! you wear a new sundress to your date with theo, knowing that he loves them on you, and he cannot resist the temptation.

WARNINGS ! google translated italian, dom!theo, sub!reader, SMUT without a plot, public sex, praising, pet names, lots of kissing and groping, choking, neck grabbing, hair pulling, fingering, heavy dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink... overall, pure filth.

NOTES ! english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. "helping hand" has reached over a 1.000 notes, TYSM! i'm so happy! hope you enjoy this ♡

you were trying to hold back your playful giggles as theo pushed you inside the three broomsticks bathroom, his large hand covering your mouth to muffle your cute little laugh so that the rest of customers didn't hear you both sneaking into the ladies restroom.

'what had brought you two there?' you might be wondering... well, that's actually a really short story.

as every saturday, theo and you were in hogsmeade, having a date. it was may, the weather was warm and the sun was shining in the sky, so you had decided to put on a new sundress that your mother had bought you for your birthday a few weeks ago —knowing that theo loved seeing you in that kind of clothing.

the dress was white, with a flared skirt and a corseted body which ended in a low and flattering neckline. it made your body look stunning and theo had almost gone crazy when he saw you earlier; the soft fabric hugging your curves, bringing out the light tan of your skin... he had been literally drooling over you the entire date, and now, he couldn't hold back anymore: he needed to fuck you.

and he couldn't wait until you both were back at hogwarts.

he kicked the bathroom door shut behind you both while peppering kisses along your slender neck, gently sucking and biting your skin to mark you all over; at the same time, his hands groped your body almost desperately.

"you look so fucking beautiful today," theo whispered in your ear.

he tugged at your earlobe between his lips before turning you around to push you against the sink and you hissed when your body hit the cold hard marble kind of roughly.

you chuckled, tilting your head to the side to kiss his cheek as you tangled your fingers in his light brown curls, his hands grasping at your slim waist.

"just today?" you whispered back teasingly, looking up at him with a smirk on your red painted lips.

he chuckled lowly, pressing himself against you as he slipped his hands underneath the hem of your dress to run his hands over the smooth skin of your legs slowly, pulling the fabric up just enough to expose a sliver of bare thigh.

"always beautiful, but today... fuck," he muttered, nuzzling his nose against yours; the smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, making you feel light-headed, "this bloody dress is driving me fucking crazy, cara mia."

"i knew you'd love it..." you couldn't help but giggle against his lips, giving gim a chaste peck before pulling back slightly. "i put in on just for you," you murmured, kissing his neck softly; your red lipstick left a faint stain on his flesh.

theodore smirked, his hands sliding up your thighs to cup your bare ass through the laced fabric of your panties.

"you're a fucking tease, do you know that?" he groaned before leaning in to claim your crimson lips in a scorching kiss.

your eyes fluttered shut, your body melting into his arms at the intimate contact, which made you gasp against his eager mouth. your lips brushed together in a mind-blowing dance while you ran your fingers through his soft hair absentmindedly.

theo broke the kiss just a moment later only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin as his fingers worked to lift your dress higher up, until it was pooling around your waist, his body still pinning you against the sink.

"i need you," he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire, "need to fuck you so badly, principessa."

you gasped once again when he pressed his hardening cock against your pelvis, grinding against you in slow motions. you grasped at the sink countertop, your head falling back as he placed wet kisses all the way down to your cleavage.

theo groaned at the sight of your perfect breasts almost spilling out of the neckline of your dress and his hand cupped one of them through the thin fabric, squeezing it tenderly.

"sei bellisima, amore mio," he muttered in italian, his lips pressing against yours hungrily once again. (you're beautiful, my love)

you whimpered into the kiss, feeling your wetness start to pool around in your panties as his thumb toyed with your perky nipple over your clothes until it hardened; your shuddered in his arms.

"theo, please," you stuttered into his lips, words coming out as broken sobs.

theo broke the kiss, his eyes darkening with lust as he looked down at you while his other hand slipped between your legs. his fingers traced along the damp fabric of your panties, feeling how wet you were for him.

"merlin... you're fucking soaked, principessa," he growled, his fingers teasingly brushing against your clit.

you moaned at his action, but quickly nipped at your plump bottom lip to try and hold back any sound that may escape your mouth, not wanting anyone outside the bathroom to hear you... though the thrill of getting caught was indeed turning you on.

theo withdrew his hand and kneeled in front of you, fingers gripping at the waistband of your panties to slid them down your legs while he peppered wet kisses all over your belly and hip bones, slowly moving down.

"we have to make this quick, bella," he whispered, placing one last kiss at your smooth mound as he looked up at you with those deep set eyes of his. "but i promise i'll eat your pretty little pussy later on, yeah?"

the smirk he gave you while he stood up made you weak on your knees. he pulled you into a kiss, hands groping at your thighs and ass cheeks avidly as he practically devoured your mouth —at that point, your red lipstick was smudged all over your faces. he grabbed your wrist to guide your hand towards his crotch and you palmed him delicately, feeling his hard dick twitch at your touch.

theo groaned against your lips, breath hitching in his throat. his hand released your wrist and slid between your legs once more, this time slipping two digits inside of you, gently stretching your tight hole.

"fuck... so wet for me," he whispered against your mouth, teeth tugging at your already swollen bottom lip. "you're fucking dripping onto my fingers, principessa."

his free hand wrapped around your neck, choking you lightly while he moved his digits in and out of you in scissor motions to prepare you for his cock. you gasped for air, letting out a needy cry as you worked to unfasten his belt with shaky hands.

"need your cock, theo... please," you breathed out, cheeks flushed.

theo's hand released your neck, his fingers withdrawing from your pussy to help you slide his pants and boxers down; his throbbing cock sprung free, standing tall against his flat stomach, and your mouth watered at the sight. after that, he grabbed your hips, turning your around and pushing you forward until you were bent over the countertop.

"keep your eyes on me, amore mio," he commanded, his voice rough.

he grasped your hair, tugging at it to pull your head back until your eyes met his on the mirror. his rough grip made you whine and you writhed when you felt the tip of his cock brushing along your slick folds, teasing you.

"theo, please," you whimpered desperately.

he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing inside while his free hand found purchase at your hip. he groaned loudly, the feeling of your tight heat welcoming him nearly overwhelming.

"so big, oh merlin," you whined at the stretch, letting out a little cry that echoed through the bathroom.

"oh fuck... I love being inside you," he murmured, his eyes piercing yours through the mirror. "che piccola figa così stretta... all fucking mine," he grunted, starting to pound into you. (such a tight little pussy)

you reached to cover your mouth with one of your hands, your palm muting the moans that inevitably left your lips when he began to fuck you against the sink roughly. your other hand gripped at his thigh, your nails digging into his flesh, and you couldn't help but close your eyes tightly, face contorted in pleasure.

he released your hair and his fingers curled around your throat instead, applying light pressure as he groaned; his digits dug into your skin, leaving bright red fingerprints on it.

"look at me while i fuck you," he ordered, forcing you to open your glazed eyes and look at him through the mirror.

his grip tightened on your throat as he slammed his hips against your ass, his cock buried balls deep inside your cunt and hitting all the right spots within you. the mirror reflected his flushed face, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and eyes locked onto yours as he took what he wanted from you, making a moaning mess out of you; thankfully, your hand covering your mouth muffled the sounds.

"damn it... so fucking tight," he moaned, picking up the pace of his thrusts, "pussy feels so good around my cock." he leaned down, his lips meeting your ear as he whispered his filth into it.

he left a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your neck while his cock made you see stars, his free hand finding its way between your shaky legs to rub your puffy clit, causing you to squirm.

"you love this, huh?" he taunted, smirking against your flesh, "you love it when i'm rough with you, don't you, principessa?"

his hand slid up from your neck to grab your hand and pull it away from your mouth, pinning it behind your back, so that you could answer him. though you struggled to do it; the way he was rocking his hips caused his cock to rub against your g-spot with every single thrust, making you feel like your insides were being torn apart in the best way possible.

"hmm, yeah," you cried out in response, "love it when you fuck me hard."

his lips captured yours again and your walls clenched around him as you moaned into his lips, the kiss muting the sounds of your pleasure. you felt the coil in your belly tightening and your clit pulsed underneath his fingertips, signaling your impending orgasm. he broke the kiss, his eyes dark and hungry as he looked down at you.

"you close, bella? he panted, slapping your ass hard enough to sting.

you nodded in response, blubbering incoherent words, unable to form any sentence as he ruined your cunt.

"that's it, baby... cum for me," he grunted, pushing deeper and harder, the sink creaking due to his harsh thrusts. "i want to see your pretty eyes roll back into your head when you cum on my cock."

his filthy words triggered your orgasm.

he watched with satisfaction as your eyes indeed rolled back, your back arching and nails digging into your skin as you covered your mouth once again, trying to silence the moans and cries that slipped from your lips.

"such a mess... so fucking beautiful," he praised.

he bit down softly on his lip before letting out a rough, guttural groan, the feeling of your cunt engulfing his cock too much for him too handle.

"i'm gonna cum inside you," he warned, "gonna breed this tight little pussy, amore."

you let out a whiny moan, your breathing coming out in sharp pants as your walls clamped around his cock in response to his dirty words.

"you want that, huh?" he mocked you, his hand grasping and pulling at your hair to push you back onto his chest. "want me to make you pregnant with my fucking child?"

"yeah," you whimpered pathetically, "want to carry your child, theodore nott."

"fuck," he cursed, letting out a long, low moan as he unloaded his cum inside you, the warm sticky liquid filling your pussy. "buona ragazza," he whispered, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from collapsing. (good girl)

your legs were completely shaky, making it hard for you to stand up, so you supported yourself on the countertop as you felt him pulling out slowly, his cum dripping out of your abused cunt.

he placed sweet kisses over your back and shoulders as you recovered from your orgasm, whispering soothing things to you while he grabbed his wand to mutter a cleansing spell and get you both all cleaned up.

after composing yourselves, the both of you walked out of the bathroom quietly to not grab any undesired attention, unluckily, pansy parkinson was waiting out of the bathroom, arms crossed and smug grin tugging at her lips; you blushed.

"finally," she claimed, laughing, "you two had fun in there?"

"shut up, parkinson!" theo shouted, grabbing your hand and hurriedly guiding you outside of the three broomsticks.

'we sure as hell did, pansy', you thought as you both walked away.

[xneens]

dildo shopping

aaron catches you dildo shopping.

Telling Emily about your less-than-adequate one-night stand had been a mistake. After being short with everyone for the whole day, she finally confronted you about the change in attitude and you confessed the guy you brought home the night before had gotten off without returning the favor.

She had asked when was your last orgasm and you had to think about it before telling her it had been a while. With that reply, she dragged you to the closest mall. That's how you ended up in front of a Spencer's.

You raised an eyebrow at Emily, sighing loudly as you reluctantly followed her inside. "Seriously, Em? I think I could've just bought a vibrator online or something."

"That could take days to come and you clearly need this now." Emily leads you to the back section, giving you a look. "Don't argue with me, you yelled at Rossi after he got your coffee order wrong today."

"I literally have no memory of that," you replied, trying to think if that situation had happened. "I didn't even drink coffee today."

Emily holds up an "I love Milfs" t-shirt briefly. "Because you threw it in the garbage after cussing him out in Italian. Rossi teaching you Italian really came back to bite his ass today."

"Whatever," you said, a twinge of guilt crawling into your heart. You shrugged it off knowing he'd understand and you made a mental note to get him his favorite bottle of wine to make up for it.

As you entered the back, you looked through all the dildos and vibrators lined up against the wall. Emily held up a purple dildo, reading through the description while you looked at the unimpressive dildo and vibrator wall decor, none really vibing with you.

"This one says it vibrates and is supposed to feel realistic," she mumbles, eyes narrowing as she reads through the instructions. "Six inches though, I think you can take more than that right?"

You giggled, unable to hold in a laugh. "I don't really want to think about Barney's small dick vibrating in my cunt when I want to cum, Em. Or Thanos for that matter."

She makes a face, putting the purple vibrating dildo back. "What a strange image. Thanks for ruining Barney for me."

Chuckling, you check out the lingerie a nearby mannequin is wearing. It's black and lacy, and while it holds up the titties, it's see-through and the panties are crotchless. Taking off its panties, you hold it up to your body. "Hey, this is cute isn't it?"

"Very cute, you should get it," Emily responds, looking through the hundred dildo options.

"Yes, you should."

You freeze, your ears instantly knowing who that voice belonged to. Emily looks behind you without turning her head, holding back a laugh at your clear mortification. A second passes and you turn around to see Aaron fucking Hotchner, your stoic boss and friend standing in front of you, looking at the lingerie you had pressed up against you.

You can't help but laugh awkwardly. "Hotch? What're you doing here?"

He's amused and you can tell because he's eyes are twinkling and the corner of his lips are twitching as if fighting the urge to smile. "I was picking something up for Jessica at Bath and Body Works when I saw you guys and wanted to say ... hi.”

"Wonderful." you deadpanned, placing the crotchless panties back on top of the mannequin's head.

Before either of you could say anything else, Emily joins in, a smile so smug and big it would've been hard to miss from space. "I'm going to look at that section of toys. Maybe you'll like a blue one instead so you can imagine it's Jake Sully instead."

She's too far away when you think about slapping her, already moving towards the side section of even more vibrators and dildos, a few naughty shirts display that separated you and Hotch from her. After glaring a hole into the back of her head, you turned back to Hotch, wanting nothing more than to melt on the floor and die.

"I-" you start, unable to finish; just like the night before.

He begins to look through the wall of sex toys, brows furrowing at the choices. Your cheeks redden when he picks up the infamous rose vibrator momentarily before placing it back down. It looked so tiny in his big hands and you wanted nothing more than to have his big hands in you. "What kind of toys do you like?"

It takes you a second to comprehend his question, still stuck on him seeing you shopping for things a boss should never know about his employees. "Um, whatever, really. I haven't really had one since college."

Hotch nods as if you were talking about a case and not about orgasming on a fucking sex toy. "I see."

You watch in silence as he studies the choices again, fully concentrated. He picks up a packaged dildo, regular colored, and holds it up to inspect it. You watch him eye the silicone dick before placing it back and picking up an identical one, only this one is thicker and wider.

"So ... you ever try one of these before with someone?" you asked, unable to deal with the silence but now wishing you hadn't spoken after that horrible sentence.

Thankfully, he chuckles, eyes not straying from the description on the packaging. "No, I haven't. I never really did have the time or someone who was willing to try something like this out."

"Ahh," you reply like a fucking idiot.

After another few moments of inspecting the dildo, he hands it to you with a smile. You take it instinctively, confused and gobsmacked at the gesture. His eyes are twinkling with amusement and something else you can't place. "That one should be the closest."

It’s about eight inches long, quite thick and has veins decorating the length. The head of it is big and you nearly salivate at the thought of getting off to it tonight.

"The closest to what?"

Hotch just grins in return and starts to turn away and walk out. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun.”

[sinsirellaxx]

Hey dear! how about the toxic slytherin boys reacting to the reader wearing a short skirt?

Slytherin Boys – What they’d do if you wore a short skirt

Warning: Toxic Slytherin boys

A/N: Thank you for the request! ❤️ I have the feeling that these toxic boys are more leaning towards yandere ... if it's too much for you, please let me know!

Otherwise: Have fun reading! And not proofread – so, proceed with caution!

Mattheo …

… stared at you – surprised by your audacity. He had told you not to wear that skirt that morning, yet there you were: waltzing around in a tiny skirt. Gritting his teeth he’d stand up from the sofa and walk up to you. You noticed your boyfriend, a small smirk on your lips as you awaited his reaction.

Seeing the smirk on your face further added to his anger. You wanted his attention that bad? He’d make sure you’d get it. When he got close enough, he bent down slightly, grabbed the back of your thighs, and threw you over his shoulder. One of his hands moved to cover your ass from prying eyes as he walked towards his dorm. If you wanted to be a brat, he’d have to teach you how to behave.

“Wrong move, babe.”

You were his and he’d have to remind you of that. Not that he minded.

Theodore …

… cursed in Italian when he spotted you. The fuck? He didn’t waste another second before removing his jacket and wrapping it around your waist. He was utterly shocked, because this wasn’t like you. He never had to tell you how to dress prior to this because you never wore something risky. “Love, you can’t walk around looking like this.” He’d scold you with a frown on his face. You stared at him with sad eyes as you asked him if you looked bad. Theodore groaned loudly as he threw his head back, his hands combing through his hair. Your naivety was going to be the death of him. Shaking his head he cupped your cheeks in his large hands, forcing you to look at him. “No, bella. You look amazing – absolutely beautiful. And that is the problem. I don’t want anyone else to see you look this pretty and tempting. Alright?”

Lorenzo …

… would be livid. Not just because of you but also because of the boys turning around to look at you. He’d instantly feel the urge to whisk you away and hide you in his room, but he knew he couldn’t. Not just yet. Instead, he chose to walk towards you, glaring at the boys until they finally averted their eyes. Lorenzo hugged you close to his body as he silently grit out, “Love, what is this? Are you trying to test my patience?”

 He'd definitely get rid of all the short skirts and dresses in your closet.

Draco …

… immediately pulled you somewhere more secluded before pinning you against the wall. “It’s funny you think you can walk around looking like that.” He’d growl against your ear with his hands on your hips. “Go and change.”

If you nod and do whatever he wants, like the good and obedient girl that he wants, he’ll be satisfied. If you refuse, however, he’ll grab a fistful of your hair and pull your head back slightly. Having now access to your neck, he’ll pepper kisses and bites onto your skin, desperate to leave as many marks as possible. “You’ll go change. Now. Stop being a brat.”

Blaise …

… would be hot and bothered. Loves the skirt on you. Hates the attention you get. His hands would immediately be on your hips, gripping tightly as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. “Baby, what’s with the skirt? Don’t you think it’s too short?” He’d ask.

When you proudly asked him if he liked it and told him that you wore it for him, he couldn’t help but relax, the initial anger wearing off.

“You look great, love. But only wear this when you’re with me.” Blaise said, his voice low and commanding.

Tom …

… immediately pulls out his wand and in a matter of second your skirt will have grown by a few inches. He’d never allow you to walk around with a short skirt and there was nothing you could do. Tom would still be angry with you though and depending on how you reacted to your new skirt he’d have to resort to a rougher approach.

“If you walk around with a skirt that short again you won’t be walking for long. I might just lock you up, doll.”

-

Comments are appreciated!

If you want to support me and my work: https://ko-fi.com/sinsirella

[octuscle]

Gas Stop

Max was drenched in sweat. He had been given a high-powered Mercedes at the airport in Frankfurt and was now speeding along the Autobahn on his way to Stuttgart. The speedometer showed 180 km/h. The German Autobahns were murderous. He hadn't been here for 20 years, shortly after graduating, and had the impression that driving behavior had become significantly more aggressive. 190 km/h. Suddenly, a headlight flashed in the rearview mirror. A Porsche was not even a meter behind him. Startled, Max yanked his steering wheel around and pulled the car into the middle lane of the highway. The Porsche accelerated and sped off, followed by a Ducati whose driver revved up the engine powerfully. Damn, Max was now driving over 200 km/h, but the two speeders must be doing well over 250 km/h.

Max's knees were shaking, his hands were sweaty. There was a rest stop in five kilometers. He needed a coffee. And a toilet. He took his foot off the gas. The speedometer needle dropped counterclockwise toward 100 km/h. The exit came up. Max braked. Thank God, now a break!

The Ducati that had just overtaken him was standing in front of the wash rooms. At least it had an Italian license plate, Max had noticed. Motorcyclists who race at such speeds are all suicidal, Max thought, shaking his head, as he paid the fee to use the toilet at the entrance barrier. He stood at a urinal, unzipped his fly and peed. Someone approached from behind and stood right next to him, although the toilets were otherwise deserted. Max concentrated on the urinal in front of him. But given the smell coming from next door, it was hard for him to do so. Leather, sweat, cigarette smoke. Normally rather repulsive. But now? At this moment? Somehow arousing. His cock was getting hard.

He heard the sound of a zipper opening. A long zipper, not the short one of a pair of trousers. The smell of sweat became more intense. He carefully turned his head. The guy next to him was the motorcyclist. He had unzipped his suit, so not only his cock was exposed, but also his sweaty T-shirt, from which the chest hair on a muscular chest peered out. Max stared in the direction of the stallion next to him. He couldn't help it. He made eye contact with his neighbor. He began to jerk off his uncircumcised cock. “Fucking?” he asked. German, with a heavy Italian accent. Max didn't speak German, but he understood that. The stallion pissed, kept jerking off and left, using his boner like a signpost. Max followed without a word, his boner also sticking out of his pants. The Italian stallion went into a stall, stood against the wall and held his cock out to Max, grinning. Max understood. Even though the floor was wet with piss, he knelt down and began to suck the balls first and then the cock. Damn, the smell, the taste of salt and musk made him so horny. He had the biker's firm, leather-clad ass cheeks in his hands and the cock in his face. His own cock bumped against the toilet bowl. Shit, had the beast always been that big? The fabric of his jacket became heavier. The rustling of fabric became the creaking of leather. The thoughts in his head began to blur. Shit, somehow it always felt like this when he sucked Andrea's cock. The two were motorcyclists out of passion. And every gas stop was also time to cum. Speeding along the highway at almost 300 km/h not only released adrenaline but also testosterone. Lots of testosterone. And a lot of it Andrea squirted into Massimo's face now.

“Another espresso, Mimo?” Andrea asked. Massimo grinned. ‘Mimo’ was what his mother had always called him when he went to kindergarten. Andrea and Massimo had known each other since then. No one except Andrea was allowed to call him Mimo. “Is that a question? A break without jerking off in the bathroom and espresso is not an option!” The two had been best buddies for almost 20 years. But not gay. Jerking off and sucking off only ever without eye contact!

Pic by @ki-kink

[jiniretracha]

ꕤ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 '𝟐𝟒 - 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟏 ꕤ

Sim Jake x fem!reader: cockwarming

summary: Part 2 of Kinktober Day 10

warnings: smut, cockwarming, feelings ??, this is shit

word count: 1k

kinktober masterlist // masterlist // ko-fi

Your relationship with Jake had gone from roommates / best friends to roommates / friends with benefits. 

None of you had dared to take a step further than sex. In fact, you hadn’t had sex yet. The moment you had finished giving him that famous handjob in the bathroom of your shared apartment, he had fingered you on the counter while his mouth swallowed your whimpers. 

Two weeks later, you fell into a routine that for anybody from the outside would’ve assumed it were couples things. It consisted in sleeping in the same bed, taking showers together and sometimes you’d even go out on not-dates. 

Yeah, you had named them no-dates, just to make sure you weren’t giving out your feelings if you were to call them dates.

After one particular date to the Italian restaurant down the street you frequented, Jake had suggested taking a shower together. But even if you wanted to go with him, your body was way too tired for that.

“Sorry, Jakey. I’m gonna go to sleep right now. I’m way too tired” you said.

He smiled brightly, flashing his pearly white teeth and nodded. “Okay, go to sleep, hon. I’ll be right back” he said and grabbed your waist, pulling you closer.

Jake left a kiss on your lips that left your stomach a fluttering mess and then shut himself inside the bathroom.

Once you heard the shower start running, you blinked a couple of times, pulling yourself out of the trance he had left you on. 

You got under the covers and tried to fall asleep, but you were too busy focusing on the sudden kiss he had given you.

Sure, you had kissed him multiple times. But those times he had kissed you, involved hands under each other’s pants or mouths on each other’s-

The door of the bathroom opened and your eyes widened. 

Wow you had been thinking about the whole situation for a solid 20 minutes.

Jake came out of the bathroom already dressed and his hair was slightly wet. 

He got inside the covers and pulled your body closer to his, spooning you from behind.

“Good night, hon” he whispered against your neck, leaving a kiss on your skin and making goosebumps rake all over your body.

You smiled. “Good night, Jakey” you whispered into the night. 

A few minutes had passed and you couldn’t seem to fall asleep, even if your body felt like melting on the mattress. 

You sighed and squirmed on the bed, trying to get into a comfortable position but then you froze when you felt something hard poking against the cheeks of your ass. 

Your eyes went wide as plates when you came to the reality that Jake was hard against your ass. 

“Y/N…” He whispered.

Fuck, he was awake!

“Yeah?” you asked him in a whisper. 

“Stop moving” Jake said.

“Or what?” 

Jake chuckled behind you and grasped your hips, stilling you so he could roll his over your ass, his erection brushing hardly against you. “Stop moving or I’ll fuck you, hon”

You bit your lip trying to contain the moan that was fighting to get out. “Then… what’s stopping you, Jakey?”

“That the first time I fuck you, I want it to be nice. Not because you gave me a random hard on while we were sleeping” he told you. 

“Oh…”

“Yeah. Oh…”

You swallowed. About five minutes later, Jake’s erection did not disappear. In fact, you were sure he was getting harder by the minute that passed. 

“Jakey?” you called.

“Mmh?” he hummed against your shoulder, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. 

“Do you want to put it in?” you asked him.

You heard silence and then shuffling on the bed. “Shit- shit…” he said and you felt him kicking under the bed. You felt him grab your shorts and pull them down right under your butt cheeks. “Spread- spread your legs for me” he said, and he sounded in pain.

You bit your lip and did as he asked, spreading your legs and inching your ass closer to his shaft. 

With a gasp, you felt his cock entering you, your walls clenching around him. He moaned brokenly against your neck and grasped your hips tightly. 

“Shit, stay still babe” he groaned.

You clenched even tighter around him at the pet name. 

He let out a breath and wrapped his arms around you, making you stay still. “Let’s sleep like this okay?” he asked you. 

You swallowed and nodded. “Yeah…” you said.

He kissed your neck and you chewed on your lip. “Good night”

You let out a giggle. “Good night, Jakey”

You let out eyelids fall shut as you thought about what could mean in your future with him. That babe that fell from his lips was fucking sinful but at the same time, it felt so intimate. Maybe it was his cock inside of you that was making you think and feel all these things.

You were cut short when you heard Jake let out his quiet snores against your neck and you couldn’t help but smile.

You hoped to God that he felt the same as you did, and that your feelings could be returned.

── .✦

taglist: @annhearttihaehe // @frequentlykit // @alexisfeliz // @jeonginsleftcheek // @yaorzu-blog // @jisunglyricist // @leeknowinggg // @ka0ila // @minghaosimp // @lixies-favorite-cookie // @yn-x-them // @chrizrizz // @madkati // @starzystay // @pancake-freckle // @velvetmoonlght // @regardsto-hell // @jaiuneamesolitaiire // @bangchansbeanie

i apologise if i can't tag u :(

[chaoticace2005]

Reasons why I, Husk, will not get involved with the spider demon known as Angel: (now complimentary to Angel's list on why he wanna be fucked by BE WITH Husk)

Literally why would I? He’s so damn fake. And his movies suck. And he talks so damn much.

He’s too damn tall. What am I supposed to do? FLY to kiss him?Note: His annoying older brother is significantly shorter. But TOO short. Also not my type. Not that Angel IS my type.

Alastor wouldn’t like it (but who the fuck cares what some radio bastard thinks)

He’s decorated in hearts. IM decorated in hearts. That’s too many damn hearts.

Shedding.

Too many damn arms. Would probably be a good cuddler and I’d never get out of bed. Leading to both of us being killed by the radio demon.

He’s trying to get into heaven. I’d just mess it up.

Literally has any better option and deserves better.

He’s probably get into my stash and drink me dry.

If we’re both power bottoms at rock bottom how would that work?? (AN: this is just a joke from the song 😂 Husk may not be one)

We’re both under soul contracts. Our lives are messy enough as is.

The princess might explode from happiness.

Niffty’s gone on killing sprees against spiders in the past. Don’t want to get him tangled into that.

Don’t want him to get tangled into ANY of this

I purr around him. I am NOT a cat.

I’m stupidly soft around him. I’m NOT soft.

I’m an addict. He’s trying to recover.

He has a cute pig that eats all my damn cherries.

I don’t want to ruin whatever the fuck we DO have. He’s not his trauma, but there is trauma and I don’t want him thinking I’m using him for sex like everyone else seems to.

I lost the ability to love years ago.

Shitty ass poker face.

Drinks the fruitiest damn cocktails that are honestly an affront to bartending.

Looks TOO good in drag (looks too good in anything.)

Too good a parent to Niffty. Kid will get even more spoiled.

Would I really date someone named ANGEL DUST?

His mafioso brother would probably kill me if shit happened

Sounds too good when speaking Italian

Gives people a way to hurt us.

It's better if I'm a man with nothing to lose. (It might be too late for that now though.)

[csainzsgirly]

cs55 - "Dime, princesa... have you ever been fucked properly?"

smut (18+) size kink, age gap (10 years)

The smokey, sweet taste of an old fashioned lingered on his tongue after the first gulp. The glass felt icy between his hot fingers in the hot club. Charles was bouncing back and forth to the music, three glasses of champagne down and sipping on a mojito as he was watched by his teammate with a small grin. Carlos liked parties every now and then, but celebrating a Ferrari win was always better when he was the one with the biggest trophy in his hands, when he was the one who stood on the top step op the podium, and when the Spanish anthem played first, followed up by the Italian. But Charles deserved this one. Carlos took another sip of his drink, finding the glass nearly being empty already. They had been chatting when they entered the club, but Charles had eyes for his girlfriend now only.

Alexandra nearly felt guilty, he could see it in her eyes as she looked at Carlos apologetically over Charles' shoulders while his fingers were curled around his waist like he didn't want to let go of her anymore. "Tu le laisses être la troisième roue du carrosse", Carlos caught a few words of what she said to her boyfriend, making Charles lazily look over at his teammate. "Il est assez beau pour se trouver une fille", he said, making Alexandra giggle before he left a teasing kiss on her shoulder, the two of them disappearing further between the dancing people. Carlos chuckled, not surprised they left him. He was still surrounded by the guys from his garage, who were filling their glasses with the huge bottle of champagne the club had brought to their table as a gift after their one-two.

Carlos made his way back to the bar, slipping onto one of the high chairs in front of it. "It's never fun being the two in the one-two, is it?" your sweet voice made him look up. His eyes quickly scanned you up and down, lingering on the teasing, glittery end of your dress, coated with tassels, that just finished beneath your ass. "It's still better than being third," he replied, watching you slide onto the chair next to him, legs crossing at your knees. "That's a lie," you laugh, the sound surprising him. He gets a good look at your face for the first time, eyes sparkling under the low lights of the club when you look back at him. "Second never feels good enough anyway," you say. It took him a minute, but he recognizes you now. You had caught his eyes after the show you gave with the other Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders.

You had bumped into him after the race, apologizing to him with a flirty smile and then congratulated him with his trophy. His eyes glide over your appearance again, this time no blue, cropped shirt and a small white jacket. No cowboy boots on your feet and no white shorts. The tassels on the end of your dress were teasing him again, and he was sure if the material would lift a little higher on your skin, he would discover what you had, or hadn't, underneath it. Your left knee was a little bruised, and without a though, his hand reached out to brush his fingers over it. You inhaled sharply at his warm touch, looking at his large hand that covered your knee. "You got this from the asphalt?" he asked. "Yeah, landing was a little rough," you replied. "It looked smooth," Carlos said.

"You looked better on the podium," you reply, making him chuckle. He flagged the bartender down to get the two of you a drink. It's your turn to look at him, at the blouse that was unbuttoned from the top, revealing a glimpse of his strong chest. The material pulled taut around his shoulders and his biceps, forearms exposed by his rolled up sleeves. His jeans fitted his thighs well, and your eyes darted between your petite form and the way he took up so much space. Carlos' eyes were still on you when you lifted yours back to his face. "I never introduced myself," he spoke up again, his hand extending towards you. You slip your hand into his, liking the way he repeated your name just to taste it on his tongue. "Your team's not here?" he asks, making you shake your hand and sip your cocktail. "Just some of them, but they're on the dance floor," you said. "I saw you and wanted to come and talk to you," you add.

A small grin curls his lips, his hands reaching for the chair you were sitting on, pulling you closer to him, between his thighs. "Hard to hear you over this music," Carlos covers up with a weak attempt. You're amused, he could see it on your face. He's endorsed by how pretty you are, feminine features drawing him in, you look young, but at the same time you're a woman, not a little girl. "I get it, you turned thirty, didn't you?" you tease, making him scoff and sip his drink, twirling a couple of tassels of your dress around his fingers. "Hearing problems, back aches, struggling joints..." you gnaw at your bottom lip as your nails following the seam of his jeans that runs from his knees to his upper thighs. "Cariño, actúas como si hubiera cumplido 70 años," he says, catching your hand in his. "We're ten years apart," you reply.

A flicker of hesitance moves over his face, as he didn't expect you to be that young. "Don't worry," you add, leaning forward a little, your glossy lips brushing over his ear. "I like doing good things for the elderly," you say, seeing his eyes darken when your hand reaches up to wipe the lipgloss from his ear. "Aren't you a funny little thing," Carlos replies, and he meant it. He liked the witty remarks, he liked your hand on his arm, he liked the teasing look in your eyes. You continued the conversation as if nothing had happened, as if you hadn't referred to anything, but you had him where you wanted him, with his mind trailing off and constantly thinking about what he could do with you. You moved even closer to each other, your legs slotted perfectly between his thighs. His cologne was intoxicating, just like your touch was to him when your nails tickled the skin of his chest his shirt left exposed.

You unlocked a new feeling of desire inside of him that made him want more, more, more. His fingers dancing over the inside of your knee wasn't sufficient anymore, the brush of your lips over his ears didn't fulfil anything anymore. The touch of your hands on his biceps was needed somewhere else. "Isn't it way past your bedtime?" he asked, and you swore you were so close together, you just had to tilt your head to kiss him. "Are you going to put me to bed, sir?" you hum, moving the hand on your thigh a little higher, letting him feel the damp lace of your thong. "Eres increible," Carlos says, pressing a kiss just beside your lips. "Come." He pushes his chair back and leaves some cash on the counter for the bartender, his hand on your lower back ushering you towards the exit. "My hotel is a block away," he says once you're outside.

Your heels click on the pavement, struggling to keep up with his long strides. Your hand on his arm stopped him, and he looked down at you with a question mark on his face. You tugged him down to smash your lips together, making him groan against your mouth. His hands slotted around your waist, and he chased after you when you pulled away. "Stop rushing," you say finally. Carlos steals another kiss from your lips. His fingers slip between yours, his steps less fast this time. The walk to his hotel and the elevator ride up to his floor was a blur, as his hands were everywhere, his mouth following the curve of your neck to the straps of your dress, barely able to find time to fish the key card of his room out of the back pocket of his jeans. "I want this off," you breathe, your fingers curling into the material of his shirt as soon as you're inside and the door falls into its lock behind you.

"Later," he promises, the next kiss sucking the oxygen out of your lungs. He plants you on the edge of the bed, getting on one knee and placing your foot on his propped up leg. His fingers pry with the small clasp of your heel, and you look down at him with slightly parted lips. This man. He continues with the other shoe, dropping them on the floor beside him. Carlos' hands briefly rub the sore soles of your feet before pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle, getting up and towering over you again. You sink your knees into the carpet on the floor without question, working on the belt of his jeans and unbuttoning the denim. Your eyes flickered up to his, your heart was hammering in your chest as you unzip his jeans. He treats you to the slightest glimpse of his fit body, the v-lines tracing down his hips and dipping into his calvin klein boxers. You pull it down eagerly, watching his hard cock slap up against his lower abdomen.

You didn't miss the way he ran his fingers through his hair, leaning back slightly before watching you again. You keep looking at him while you slowly drop some saliva on his cock, your hand barely able to wrap around him fully to start stroking him. Carlos' eyes drop to your glossy lips, the most obscene images already travelling through his mind of the gloss smeared around the base of his cock, stickiness coating the skin around your lips. His hand finds the tight braid your hair is wrapped up in, making you yelp when he pulls your head slightly back. He groans as you take the tip between your lips, your tongue lapping at the underside as he slowly forces you down his cock. You gag at some point, unable to take him fully, but you don't pull back. Carlos' grip on your braid tightens, however he doesn't push you down hard. "That's it, baby," he grunts when you found a rhythm between the bobbing of your head and the movements of your hands.

He hears you gag, splutter and struggle and it feeds him, it feeds his ego as you moan around his cock, your thighs pressing together, desperate for some kind of relief. You pull back to gasp for air, nuzzling your cheek against his cock, and nearly came at the sight of your sweet eyes, your rosy cheeks and your red, bee-stung lips. "Carlos..." you whine, licking the side of his cock before feeling the weight of him on your tongue again. Your make-up was still in place, but your eyes were watering and your lipgloss was everywhere except on your lips. His abs tighten at the sound of your mouth taking him over and over again, and you gasped when he suddenly pulled you off his cock, a string of spit still connected. The tug on your braid told you he wanted you off the floor, and you sit on the bed again, looking up at him, awaiting till he'd say something. His thumb wipes away some of the mess around your lips. Carlos reaches for the buttons on his shirt, popping them out and shaking his arms out of the sleeves.

The matter-of-fact-striptease is not helping with the stress between your thighs, the stickiness of your pussy had already ruined your panties, and the heat barely became unbarable. His body looked as good, muscular, strong as you though it would be, with strong arms, broad shoulders that would devour you if he'd lean over you. Firm pecs, a strong back you'd rather sink your teeth and nails in. Right now. He stepped out of his jeans and underwear, kicking it aside before leaning over you as you'd imagine just seconds ago. "I want you to take that dress off. Can you do that for me?" he asks. "I want you to undress me," you reply, and a small grin curls his lips as he watches you lay back on the bed, stretching yourself out in a cat-like way that has even more blood flowing south. He catches your ankles, rushing you back to the end of the bed across the sheets, causing a giggle to escape from your mouth. His fingers find the small zipper of your dress on the side, zipping it down before grabbing the end and lifting it over your head.

You lean up on your elbows, only your panties covering you up. There's a glimmer of mischief in your eyes when you put your feet on his chest, pushing him away when he wants to grab your hips and rip the lace off you. Carlos' knees dig into the bed as he chases after you, stopping in his tracks when your slides down your stomach, disappearing into your thong. Your doe eyes stare up at him while two of your fingers start rubbing your clit, a soft whimper eliciting from your lips. You pout a little when he takes both of your hands in one of his and pins them above your head. His body hovers over you, nearly completely swallowing you, firm thighs between yours keeping your legs spread. "Dime, princesa... Have you ever been fucked properly?" his voice rasps. "Because I think the answer's no," he continues, letting go of your hands already, his fingers hooking into your panties and dragging them down your legs.

His words caused your breath to hitch in your throat. "I can't imagine boys your age can fuck you like you should be fucked," Carlos continues, his palm kneeding your inner thigh. "Tell me what you want," he says, tracing your pelvic bone, ignoring your throbbing clit and your soaking pussy that was clenching around nothing. "I want you to ruin me for any other man," you answer. Without a response, his head dips to capture one of your nipples between his lips, his fingertips finally dropping onto your clit and rubbing in firm cricles. Your head falls back with a sigh, a shiver running up your spine when his other palm explores more of your body, your stomach, your hips. He takes over completely, and you let him. Carlos' lips traces down the line of your stomach, his tongue replacing his fingers on your clit. His tongue strokes your pussy languidly before pushing inside you.

Your fingers sink into his hair, the precise way he flicked his tongue against you had you on the edge of an embarrasingly fast orgasm already, the stubble on his jaw and cheeks roughing up the skin of your thighs. It burned, but it hurt so good as his lips wrapped around your clit again, sucking it into his mouth before his tongue stroked between your folds again. Two of his fingers pushed past your entrance, spreading your pussy open for him, fingertips curling up and making your other hand clutch the sheets. Carlos looks up as you writhe against the duvet, moaning so prettily for him as he eats you out. "You taste so good," he growls, his mouth briefly lifting from your pussy to leave a playful mark of his teeth in your thighs. "Make me cum," you demand, pushing his head to your sopping cunt again. Carlos didn't protest as his hot mouth landed on your pussy again, licking, twirling and tongue-fucking you till you were a trembling mess.

Your walls squeeze his fingers that re-entered you, preparing him for how good you're going to feel around his cock. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuck," you curse, your stomach snapping and the coil in your abdomen releasing. He leaves a few teasing kittenlicks on your clit, knowing how sensitive you were, before lifting his head from between your thighs. His fingers grab your jaw, a rough kiss pressed to your lips. You leaned up on your elbows again, feeling hazed, nearly drunk as he went to grab a condom. You were still coming down from the orgasm he gave you, but the sight of him rolling the latex layer down his cock made you feel hot allover again. "Sure you can take me, little girl?" Carlos asks, a mocking tone to his voice that makes you feel even smaller beneath him. He sits on his knees between your thighs, his cock tapping against your pussy with a heavy thud.

He released a low grunt as he slowly drags his cock through your folds till his balls rest against your clit. His thumb presses into your stomach where the tip lays. His scent makes your head cloudly as you feel his lips on your cheek again, and you automatically parten yours to kiss him again, but the kiss never came. "That's where you're going to feel me," his voice had dropped an octave, his hand guiding himself to your pussy and slowly, but firmly entering you. The stretch was insane, the burn made your toes curl, and your eyes rolled back when he filled you to the brim. Carlos leaned back to watch you, his cock pulsing at the wild look in your eyes when you caught his eyes again. He gave you a little bit of time to adjust before he took your left leg, the one you're lifting during the kickline when you were dancing, splitting you with his cock. The angle caused him to hit you deeper, and he hadn't even moved yet.

"This pussy feels so damn good," he grunts, finally moving, thrusting in and out of you with a firm pace, holding you down and pressing you deeper into the mattress. Your slick and warm walls invite him to push in harder, unlocking something primal and raw inside him that had him roling his hips firmer into yours. You were taking it so well. Carlos grew addicted to the way your head was tilted back, your eyebrows furrowed together, red, bruised lips parted with a constant stream of his name and whimpers that had him twitching in your pussy. The tip of his fat cock bruised against your cervix, your moans becoming higher-pitched the harder he fucked you. His pace never quickened, but his rhythm changed, the smooth thrusts causing your stomach to tighten again. "Carlos... F-fuck," you whine, fingers curling around his forearms, nails digging into his skin. "My name sounds so pretty when you moan it, darling," he replies. You cum again the second his fingers land on your clit, the white-hot pleasure clouding your vision with black dots.

The muscles in your leg are relieved when he drops it, his cock still moving in and out of you through your orgasm. The temperature had risen by a thousand degrees in the room, the sheets beneath you were a mess, and so was his hair. The raven hair was sticking everywhere, a sheer layer of sweat visible on his forehead. "Wanna ride you," you say, pushing his chest. Carlos doesn't protest, letting you flip the two of you over. Your palms press into his pecs, your hips lifting slowly, sinking even slower. Your nails carve into his skin again as you feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein. He moans, looking at the point where his cock disappeared into your pussy. You slowly let him slip out of you, grabbing the base of his cock to fuck yourself on the tip, letting it hit your g-spot a couple of times before you sink down again, taking him fully. "You're so hot," he breathes, fingers digging into your hips when you start riding him faster. His hips meet yours, the rhythm causing a delicious heat to spread through your body again.

Your slick is coating your thighs, a sticky ring of your cream had formed on the condom at the base of his cock. His eyes flickered between your face and your pussy, watching the way your hips swivel, causing his balls to tighten and the pressure to build in his lower abdomen. Carlos sits up to twirl your braid around his hand, dragging you down with him and holding you against his chest while he takes over. You plant your hands on the pillows, but there's no way you could have braced yourself for your next orgasm. The all-consuming pleasure makes your thighs tremble and your knees shake, and all you can do is sit back and take it, strangled cries leaving you as you're so overstimulated, it hurts, but just like everything else that caused pain tonight, it hurt so good. He spills his seed into the condom, his teeth biting down onto your shoulder. You whine as he slips out of you, and you roll off him.

"Are you okay?" he asks, leaning up on one elbow to look down at you. "I'm perfect," you reply with a small smile, sitting up as he gets up to throw the condom away. You hadn't felt awkward with him all night, but now you either had to leave or stay the night. "You can shower and get some of my clothes to sleep in," Carlos said, stepping into a clean pair of briefs. "I can go back to my hotel, it's fine," you say, brushing him off and reaching for your underwear and your dress. He stops you quickly, kissing you in a way that makes you dizzy again. "We'll deal with the rest in the morning, it's past two. Stay," Carlos says.

He wakes up to an empty other side of the bed, but you had left a note for him on his nightstand, with a lipsticked-kiss on the paper.

Call me when you win in Mexico x

And a week later? He send you a picture of his trophy after he won the race.

I added a ticket to Brazil.

[velvetsainz]

summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] corsica continues to inspire, even when away from the heat of the sun. part of the hot monaco nights series.

word count: 2.8k

content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), a lil hint of plot, use of explicit language, unprotected sex (plan appropriately, folks), p in v, creampie, oral (f!receiving), google-translated french (i cannot and will not be stopped), em dashes strike back, once again time is a social construct

a/n: more horny fuckers in corsica (crowd cheers)! longest one yet!! struggled getting this written but ultimately happy with how it turned out, so hopefully y'all are, too. my biggest thanks as always to @lecrep @leclerc-hs @multiseb21 for their support & encouragement 🤍 enjoy, bbys! xx

As always, this was Charles's fault.

Well, kinda.

Okay, not at all, but, like, that’s beside the point.

What the point actually was that this was your favorite way to have him.

His hands gripped tightly into the plush of your hips, thumbs guiding the way your pelvis lazily drew patterns.  His cock was hard and hot and buried deep inside you, and the Monégasque was fighting all of his instincts not to roll the two of you over so he could find a way to sate the burning heat in his own core.

“Chérie,” he whined, hazel eyes still heavy-lidded as he’d only awoken a short while before.  Other parts of him had been awake for much longer, though, given the way he’d been grinding his cock against your ass before you decided to take matters into your own hands.

“Relax, baby,” you chided with a heavy sigh, one hand on his toned chest while the other toyed with your pearl.  “You’re on holiday—enjoy it.  We don’t have anywhere to be.”

“But this is torture, mon cœur,” the man groaned, hands trying to urge you faster.  Still, you resisted and shot him a devilish look.

“This,” you rolled your hips tightly and flexed your walls around his throbbing member, “is nothing.  I can make it torture if you’d prefer that, though, hm?”

He let out a frustrated sound through his nose, a groan stifled in his throat.  His hands traced over the tanned expanse of your thighs before trailing to the small of your back under the faded oversized shirt of his you’d donned after he’d fucked you within an inch of your life the night before.

“At least let me kiss you, hm? Donne-moi quelque chose, s'il te plaît,” Charles nearly begged, the French tumbling from his lips as you ground yourself in slow, lazy circles.  He needed more—more friction, more skin, more touch, anything.  He wasn’t one to beg, usually, but he was more than willing in this instance.

“So needy,” you teased, but the way his hands tangled in your hair and his tongue slid against your own had your hips bucking in such a way that gave away your hand; you had a straight flush but his was royal.  A choked sound left the back of your throat as you moved your hips quicker, one of the hands in your hair moving to grab the flesh of your ass to urge you on.

As you pulled away for a moment, Charles didn’t waste his chance and used his other hand to pull back the hem of the t-shirt you wore and latch his plump lips to one of your pert nipples in a way that made your toes curl and your eyes close tight as stars sparked.

“Fuck,” you swore, “I–”

“So needy,” he teased like an absolute little shit before you swatted at his head and he took his golden opportunity.

Banding an arm around your back, the driver pulled you tight to his chest and planted his feet into the bed before driving his hips up into your own in a way that made your insides feel like molten lava. With a filthy cry, you grabbed tight to the sheets on either side of your boyfriend as he set the new pace.

“Je pensais que je te l'avais enlevé hier soir,” he grunted in your ear as he speared against something blindingly delicious within you, and his hand palmed at your ass with your tits pressed tight against his chest.  You knew it was good for him, too, when he started slipping into Italian, blurring the lines between the languages he knew so well until they were practically an unintelligible mess.

“Charles–I’m gonna—ah!,” you started to warn as the edges of your vision blurred and the heat in the pit of your core started seeping through the cracks in your bones.

“Je sais, minette,” he grit as he felt your cunt spasm tightly around him, his own orgasm careening towards him at a blinding speed like an avalanche in the Dolomites.  “Putain–,” he swore as his hips bucked spasmodically into you, pressing into the wet velvet heat as far as your core would allow as every part of him chased whatever would bring him closer to his completion.

You felt him shudder beneath you as his hands held you tight against him; he wanted to feel all of you, and you certainly were in no place to complain as your own orgasm started to recede.  You basked in the warmth of one another, the way your hips slotted so perfectly against his, how your hearts pounded against each other’s chests.

Part of you didn’t want to break the blissful quiet of the post-orgasm glow, but your pride had other qualms.  “You’re a sore loser, you know that?,” you teased as you rolled partway off your partner, hissing as you lost the comfortable stretch of his cock inside of you.

Chuckling softly, he shrugged as he turned his head to the side to see your heavy eyes.  “I have no idea what you are talking about—I was simply exercising a-a new strategy!”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.  “You are unbelievable, Leclerc.”

“Unbelieve...ably good?,” he asked with a stupid grin that made you roll your eyes once more before you leaned in to kiss him once again.

“Unfortunately yes–”

“Say no more!,” he beamed before shooting out of bed, reinvigorated.  He disappeared for a few moments, your eyes closing as sleep tempted you once more.

You heard him pad back in and around to the side of the bed you’d rolled to, something warm and wet touching the inside of your thigh.  Gently, he cleaned you with a warm washcloth before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Sleepyhead,” he teased gently as you popped your eyes open for just a moment to peek at him as he went about the room, tidying up from the night before.  You two had gotten a bit…wild, to put it mildly.

“I resemble that remark,” you quipped, eyes closed once more as you raised a finger in the air.  Soon enough, though, you were drifting back off to sleep, only to wake several hours later in the late afternoon.

There was a note on top of your phone on the bedside table, scribbled in his surprisingly neat half-print, half-cursive handwriting.  “Out for a run,” it read, a little heart and smiley face with its tongue sticking out accompanying it.  Unsure when he’d be back, you finally convinced yourself to slip out of bed and into a much-needed shower.  You smelled like a mix of salt and chlorine and citrus—heaven, to Charles, but the grit of it was a bit much to take.  Besides, you needed to wash your hair as the two of you had plans for the evening, and your hair had become a mess over the past few days.

Stripping out of the shirt you’d haphazardly thrown on the night before, you ducked under the warm spray of the shower once you’d managed to settle on a half-decent playlist.  Humming to yourself, you didn’t hear Charles come back as you neared the end of your shower.

Sitting on the bench at the end of the unmade bed, he watched you through the half-fogged glass of the shower as the scent of your soap drifted through the air and the warmth of the steam lingered at the threshold between the two rooms.  He shouldn’t want you as badly as he does, but there’s something about your connection that was more intoxicating than any alcohol or drug could ever try to rival.  Everything about you drew him in, pulled him closer and closer like he was caught in a whirlpool; you’d bewitched him—mind, body, and soul—and under no circumstance did he want the spell to be broken.

You caught sight of him as you stepped out and began toweling off, asking, “Good run?”

He nodded as he stood, finally kicking off his shoes and shucking himself out of his shorts and briefs.  “Not as good as this morning,” he wrinkled his nose at the qualifier, pecking your lips before restarting the shower so he, too, could join you in your newfound cleanliness.  “Good shower?”

“Not as good as this morning,” you conceded in teasing as you watched him slip under the water with a laugh.

As he showered, you went to work at the vanity, going through your neglected skincare routine and brushing the tangles from your freshly washed hair.  By the time it was wrapped in a towel and on its way to drying, Charles had finished his own shower and was drying off with the lone clean towel you’d left him (you desperately needed to do some laundry tomorrow).

Towel wrapped around his waist, he took up his seat on the bench once more, scrolling aimlessly on his phone to distract himself from how you leaned over the vanity as you carefully applied your makeup.  You’d abandoned the towel that had been around your body, tired of having to fight the damn thing to stay secured every two minutes.  Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you naked before.

Charles, of course, did not mind this, but it certainly made it difficult to keep his focus on anywhere except the peek of your slit between your thighs and the curve of your tits every time you lent closer to the mirror in inspection.  It was dizzying, the way the blood rushed from his head to his…other head just at the mere sight of you.

Twitter half-held his attention for another five minutes, but that was all he could muster before he was stalking back to you and on his knees no less.  With a start and a gasp, you felt the heat of his tongue where you loved it most, eyes rolling back before you could catch yourself.  He hummed in response to the pitiful keening that left your lips.

“You are—fuck,” you started, caught off guard by the earnest press of Charles's thumb against your clit, “insatiable.  How do…how?” You had no idea where he pulled the stamina from, but you certainly weren’t complaining nor upset.

Stubbled open-mouth kisses pressed their way up your spine until he was standing behind you, caging you in with a hand on the vanity counter on either side of your hips.  “Quelque chose sur vous,” he breathed into the nape of your neck before planting a searing kiss there.  “I don’t know,” he shrugged with a groan as he rested his brow against your shoulder.

“Like I said earlier,” you teased softly as you turned in his arms, in the small cage he made with his arms against the countertop, “so needy.” The smell of his soap was still strong, but there was also something uniquely Charles, something you yourself could never get enough of.

He laughed at that, and you could feel the rumble of it where your abdomens met.  “Maybe,” he relented with a devilish twinkle in his eye, “but something tells me you are just as–”

You tutted, pressing a finger to his lips. “Don’t you dare finish that thought. At this rate we’ll never make it out tonight if you keep trying to fuck me,” you warned with a tilt of your head.

“But–”

“No buts.”

“Not even this one?,” he smirked, thinking himself something of a genius as the little shit fully palmed each cheek and pulled you in closer to press tightly against his toned body.

“Especially not that one!,” you swatted at his hands before he started running away from you and your faux-outrage, leaving you alone in the bathroom to finish getting ready.

An hour later he peeked his head in once more, dressed in a linen outfit perfect for a hot, humid, night on the Mediterranean. (Of course, this was something you’d helped him pick because Lord knows this man couldn’t be left to his own devices when it came to style; he had the style sense of a 14-year-old boy, and yet you loved him despite it—you were truly a saint.)  “Almost ready?,” he asked, eyes raking over the mid-length sleeveless silk dress you’d chosen, hair pulled into a messy French twist with simple gold accessories.  It wasn’t until he saw the slit clear up the middle of your thigh that he let out an exasperated sigh.  He was in for a long night.

Turns out, it wasn’t the worst thing ever.  Because by the time you’d made it back to the villa, you were both half-drunk on sangria and unable to keep your hands off one another…or, at least, more so than usual.

You’d gone to dinner and afterward, a small club where, in the darkened corner away from the flash of colored lights and drunken laughter of other revelers, you two made out like you were teenagers again.  He whispered naughty things in your ear, hot insistent hands slipping under your dress to grasp at the skin he so badly wanted to be pressed against—especially with how you’d toyed with him all night.  If you thought you were going to get away with grinding your ass against him, trailing the toe of your sandal up his legs during dinner, and whining in his ear with no shame…you had another thing coming.

With you bent over the back of the sofa, Charles shoved your dress over your hips where he chuckled in disbelief.  You smiled a Cheshire grin, knowing what he’d finally discovered for himself: you weren’t wearing any panties.

“You dirty girl,” he tsked in your ear as he pulled your back flush with his front, a strong arm around your middle in a way that was reminiscent of your midday fuck.  His hand smoothed over the plane of your belly and dipped into the sacred heat of your cunt to draw a whimper from your lips that he’d been desperate to hear all evening.  “So needy,” he teased as he ground his hard length against the curve of your ass and into the small of your back.

“Please–,” you pleaded with him, your sangria-addled mind having one desire and one desire, alone.

“Ne t'inquiète pas, chérie,” he hushed you as you bent back over and started arching your back for him: you were going to make this an offer he couldn’t refuse.  Groaning at the sight, he pressed the tip of his cock against your soaked entrance before slotting his pelvis against your own in one fell press of his hips.

He cursed, dropping his head down to rest against the space between your shoulder blades.  You wiggled your hips in desperation, needing friction—needing anything—to ease the ache between your legs. Hissing at the sensation, Charles nipped at the skin over your spine before soothing it with his tongue.  “Je sais, minette,” he groaned before starting a truly punishing rhythm with each stroke.  His hands gripped tight at your hips, only stopping for a moment to help you hitch one of your legs onto the back of the couch you were bent over which allowed his cock to grind against something deep within you.

You were hurtling fast and hard to your climax, and you could tell your partner wasn’t far behind with how his praises and curses tumbled from his lips in equal measure. The Monégasque was a talker in bed, you’d come to learn, but even more so now that his mind’s filter had been soaked in shitty sangria.

“So close–Charles, pl-please,” you whined pitifully before a hand entwined in your now-ruined bun and tugged, wrenching a choked gasp from your throat. You babbled half-incoherently as he held you against him once more and his other hand snaked around the front of your hip to rub tight circles over your pearl with that perfect rasp of much-needed friction.

“Jouis pour moi, chérie,” he gritted in your ear, and you didn’t need to be told twice as waves of pleasure crashed over your body.  Warmth spread from your core to the tips of your toes, breath caught in your throat as you rode the earliest waves.  Your hips bucked insistently against him, his own losing their rhythm at the feeling of you clenching so tightly around him and pulling him headfirst into a blinding high of his own.

With a choked gasp and your name on his lips, you felt as he came inside you just moments after your own orgasm. Panting and positively fucked out, you dropped down over the couch once more, slowly but surely floating back down into your body. Charles draped over you in exhaustion, catching his own breath as one of his hands found yours and traced over it mindlessly with gentle fingers.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you to figure out I wasn’t wearing any underwear,” you pondered aloud like the thought of your bare cunt under that dress hadn’t just resulted in the fuck of your life.  You were a tease—and an unabashed one, at that.

“Mon Dieu, chérie.”

final note: one more part for our stay in corsica before we depart the island! hoping you guys will enjoy it! 🤍 as always, you can follow my writing sideblog @velvetsainz-writes where i reblog inspo & recs!

[christinarowie332]

master list

————

————-

head canons :

stoner chris and reader hc

italian reader x sturniolo hc

———-

individual one shots :

parasite - chris sturniolo

goofy ass smile - chris sturniolo

passenger princess - chris sturniolo

these moments - sturniolo triplets

god i love you - chris sturniolo

cherry lips - matt sturniolo

“you filming matty” - matt sturniolo (smut)

“sit on my fucking face” - chris sturniolo (smut)

coming over or what? - matt sturniolo (angst)

too risky? - chris sturniolo (smut)

who’s on top? - chris sturniolo (smut)

honey i know you . - matt sturniolo (fluff)

where words fail , music speaks - chris sturniolo (suggestive fluff)

hands head between my thighs - matt sturniolo smut

please me. matt sturniolo smut

these people are naughty (suggestive)

———-

series:

“i’d be an idiot/i win/i am his”. -matt sturniolo

“id be a fucking idiot if i said no to that” part 1

“i win” part 2

“i am his” part3

“stupid stupid stupid …”

- chris sturniolo

“stupid horny fucks”- smut , part 1

“stupid fucking kid” - angst , part 2

“stupid kids in love” - smut , part 3

“whatever you say.”

-matt sturniolo

“whatever you say” part 1

“whatever you say” part 2

“life of the party”

life of the party pt 1

life of the party pt 2

———-

snaps from…… :

“snaps from christopher sturniolo”

“snaps from christopher sturniolo” (pt2)

“snaps from matt sturniolo”

“snaps from christopher sturniolo”(pt3)

“snaps from chris sturniolo”(p4)

“snaps from nick sturniolo”

“priv story au”

“priv story au” pt2

“priv story au” pt3

“messages from the sturniolos”

“snaps from matt sturniolo”

————

none sturniolo shorts

tactless

daddy’s girl.

————

@mangosrar @sturnphilia @daddyslilchickenfingers @lividnity @urmyslxt @sssturniolofart @biimpanicking @bluesturniolo333 @soursturniolo @littlebookworm803 @parkerssecrets

————

[justwinginglife]

Can I req a hoshina x reader, but school au and they're academic rivals? Leikk, they're in the same class and debates every now and then who's correct. Fights aren't uncommon between them especially when they both ran for council

But what's surprising is that they actually study together outside school?

(I'm sorry if this is to much 😔, I love your fanfics. Theyre my oxygen, ty for keeping us hoshina fans well fed 🫶)

You absolutely do not need to apologize! I am totally happy to do this for you. Thank you so much for your support, and of course, I'm always happy to encourage the Hoshina hyperfixation.

The Best Plans

You had so many ideas about how you thought your college life would go; you'd be top of every class, give a rousing speech at graduation, rock your first internship, and score a killer first job. You didn't anticipate anyone having the smarts to fuck up your masterplan. But Soshiro Hoshina was a whole different beast, something you couldn't have anticipated.

Your whole life, you'd been smarter than everyone around you even without trying. It was just a given that you were better. So you never could've predicted that you'd have to break a sweat just to keep up with him. For the first time in your life, you were pulling all nighters, just raw dogging tests with no sleep, no sanity. You were frequenting the library so much, studying at all hours of the day and the night, that you had become good friends with the librarian. Her name was Himiko. She had two cats and loved Italian food. She was a sweetheart.

But even through all this struggling, you persevered. You got 100% on almost everything (with the occasional 99% that Hoshina would tease you about relentlessly until your next 100%). You were not about to let some scrawny, short-ass, bowl-cut wearing, squinty-eyed, nerd disrupt your whole plan.

You hated the way he laughed at you. It was loud and unhinged. And it was uninterrupted, nothing could stop him once he'd started. And the way that he smirked was so smug and unapologetic, you thought you might just hit him with your encyclopedia.

Your favorite class was debate, because then you could argue with him to no end and even win participation points for it. Of course, you'd argue with him for free, but it was significantly more fun to destroy him for a good grade. It was like a nice little treat to yourself, compensation for having to endure his cocky personality.

And you endured a lot. You had the unfortunate luck of knowing him better than you had ever wanted to, better than anyone else ever could know him or ever would know him. You knew what arguments he was going to use before he used them, you knew what energy drink he felt was more effective for his late night study sessions (you'd run into him so frequently at the library), you knew his poker face, his stressed face (you were surprised to discover that he actually got stressed, and you teased him incessantly about not being so superhuman after all), you knew which subjects were his favorite, which subjects were his least favorite, which classmates he liked and disliked. And you had always thought you were on the "dislike" list until one day you both ended up on the student council together.

It was the first time in this school's entire history that they'd ever had two student body presidents. Your grades were so even that it was hard to assign the role to just one person. Though, Hoshina would constantly introduce you as his vice president anyway. You'd get him back by telling people he hadn't even qualified for vice president, so he was stuck with the position of treasurer. No one knew who to believe, but everyone knew the two of you had an intense rivalry.

It was so intense, you almost thought you wouldn't be able to handle being in even closer proximity to him than you already were, but you refused to step down from the council and let him be the president, and of course, he wasn't stepping down anytime soon either. So the two of you spent even later nights together, poring over the school budget, planning out events, discussing new policies.

And eventually, to your shock, he admitted that he actually enjoyed spending so much time with you. He enjoyed the banter, he enjoyed your perspective, he enjoyed hearing your opinions even if he teased you that they were wrong, and he especially enjoyed the way you'd walk by a vending machine and think of him, then buy him a snack but -not wanting to let on that you cared- you'd chuck the bag of chips in his face, saying if the hunger didn't kill him first, you would.

And when he admitted these things to you, you were shocked to realize you felt the same. You liked the way he absentmindedly ran his hands through his hair when he was deep in thought. You liked the way his eyes settled on you when he was listening intently to your plans. You liked the way he always made your plans into a reality, shrugging and saying that it was no big deal and it was half his plan anyway.

You spent so much time together in school, that eventually it spilled over into your personal life, and suddenly he was visiting you at home. He'd bow to your mom, shake your dad's hand, wave to your little sister, and then run upstairs and collapse on your bed beside you. You'd stare up at the ceiling and talk for hours, until he'd decided to tickle you, to which you responded by shoving him off the bed.

And then you'd eat dinner together, study together, and just keep living life together.

It was hard to believe that just a couple months ago, you were butting heads, clawing at each other's throats. But it was even harder to think about living without him anymore.

And suddenly, all those plans you had for your college life, all those goals and lofty ideas, none of them mattered as much anymore. Your only plan at this moment was to enjoy your time with him, and pray it never stopped.

[mirusuchanne]

⌕Beach and a bikini - Theodore Nott

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, desperation, mention of smoking, fingering under water, unprotected sex, trying to hold in moans while others are watching.

A/N: girlies are thirstier in the summer, so I'm giving you the smuttiest smut, enjoy!

Summer vacation with lots of fun, with tiny bikinis which barely covered five percent of your body was all fun and games for you. But not for one specific person. He didn't like others seeing the body he just fucked , the body he pleasured in an inhumane way just a couple of days ago. You were avoiding him, since you didn't want any bruises on your body with those tiny bikinis on. It would be really embarrassing for you, so you kept away from him and his touches.

Well, he had enough. You were splashing water towards Pansy and giggling, you were both having fun. Lorenzo and Blaise joined you too, hitting you with enormous waves. You jumped back at the sudden mass of water Zabini threw at you. Your hair got all wet, you shot up from water and gasped, sliding your hands down your hair.

It was silent, until Blaise said:

"Well, that was hot"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, I know" you answered as you felt someone's sharp, direct look. It almost burnt your skin. You looked at the shore, just to see Theo dressed in a fancy suit above a beach shirt (typical Italian man) , smoking a cigarette and looking at you with darkened eyes. His jaw was clenched, muscles tense and the eyes spoke the words of danger.

"Join us, Nott!" Lorenzo yelled as he saw him too.

You knew he was desperate, 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦. He turned into a villain without you. Cigarette was his second favourite thing: you were his first favorite thing to smoke, more directly- to suck on and to swallow everything from. For him, you were more addicting than nicotine.

With a swift motion, but also painfully slowly, he took the last puff out of his cig and threw it between the rocky sand. Then he took off his shirt, revealing the body of a Greek god, following his trousers- he already had swim shorts on. Well, he knew what he was doing. He decided to join you in the water, and there was no way you could escape him that moment. He started walking towards the water, not even flinching to the dead cold water, not stopping to ease the cold, just moving directly towards you. You gulped from fear and tiny bit of excitement. When the water got deeper, he swam right next to you as you felt his hand slide down on your waist. Right, teasing.

Pansy and the boys went on with playing. You were dead silent.

"Missed me, principessa?" He asked quietly and chuckled. "You thought I was going to sit in the corner like a puppy-" he groaned and squeezed your ass "-and fantasize about fucking you, hmm? You thought I was not going to do anything? Huh?" He squeezed you harder, until you couldn't breath even though his hands were only on your ass and thighs. "Oh, you forgot how to talk now?" His accent got heavier. He was up to something, and you quickly realized that when his fingers went down your panties.

You bit my bottom lip to prevent a whimper escaping your lips. "T-theo" you mumbled. Your mind was gone all blank. He was drugging you with his touch, in the water, in front of everyone. "Please" you whispered and closed your eyes.

"Is something wrong?" Pansy asked. You felt his hot breath on your neck.

"No, I'm alright" you mumbled. "I'm just.. Seasick?"

"You're fucking stupid" Pansy laughed and turned back to the boys, shooting a water at them.

"Looks like you're enjoying all this, huh?" He whispered and softly bit the sensitive area behind your ear. "Getting fingered under the water in such a tiny bikini? Holding in your moans for me? you don't deserve such treatment, principessa, but here I am, making you go crazy for me. My service also works under the water, you know that now"

The harsh and dirty talk in between his tough thursts really made you go crazy. "Ngghhhh~" it was really all you could say, and biting your lip and pinching your eyes shut was all you could do. He adjusted second finger, and quickly, third.

"Oh, I didn't know getting fucked in front of others was one of your sexual fantasies" he whispered again, and you couldn't bear it anymore. Overstimulation suddenly hit you, your stomach curled in a circle and you were suddenly going to explode from all the teasing. He felt that too, he knew you better than you knew yourself. Suddenly, he pulled out and slid his hand out of you bikini underwear. You groaned in disbelief and desperation.

He slowly took his hand out of water and sucked on his fingers softly. Blaise looked at him in confusion, and Theodore added:

"Water is tasty in here" with a dirty little smirk on his face. He looked at you up and down and you frowned in anger, swimming away to leave the water. When you finally escaped the cold water, you realized that you couldn't walk properly. That fucker made you forgot how to walk just with his three fingers.

You furiously entered the changing cabin on the beach. It also had a shower, so you let the water pour on your face and body. You closed your eyes and relaxed, your mind suddenly shifted to what just happened. Suddenly, you heard someone's deep voice:

"Look who forgot to lock the door" shit, you had forgotten it. Or, maybe you did it on purpose so Theodore would join you? You didn't really think of that, you were already making out with him roughly and desperately. He squeezed your ass and removed your bikini, looking at your breasts with admiration. He kissed one of your boob passionately, and gently stroked the other.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you" he said and his words sent vibrations to your skin, going down your spine like a cold air. Water was pouring on both of you, you cought his hair and ran your fingers though it. "Baby, keep going" you moaned as he went down your core and slid his tongue across your folds. You gasped in pleasure.

He started eating you out like a desert. His desire to taste you had grown stronger and stronger, and you could see it too.

"Spread you legs" he demanded and you did so. With a sharp motion, his shaft was already moving back and forth against your cunt, and without you even realizing, he slammed in his full length. You turned into a moaning mess, feeling as your walls tightened around his member. His motions were slow from the start so you could get accustomed to his length, but then he went wild. The sound of your skins clapping went louder and louder, his groans got more and more desperate, and motions faster and faster. That was all you yelled. "𝘍𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳.. 𝘕𝘨𝘩𝘩𝘩~ 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬, 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳!~"

And he followed your command. He was close, and you were too. Finally, he pulled out and shoot his erection on your ass, rubbing it on your skin.

"Fuck, we should take this to the hotel room before you fully forget how to walk, principessa" you felt his hot chuckle against your skin, and you nodded with loud, exhausted breathing escaping your lips.

"I'll have to wear bigger bikinis now, I probably have lots of brusises" you sighed and took his hand to straighten yourself.

[melanieph321]

If you’re writing for Riccardo calafiori i have a lil req! You work for bologna and always have to do media work with him but you’re not a fan of his attitude and make that known and in return he makes it known he doesn’t like you. Then one night you guys are at a charity event and you’re both drinking when you shouldn’t be then one thing leads to another and you’re fucking each other in one of the empty rooms of the hall😼

This is sooo good!!! 🤭🤭🤭

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 3.0

(DAY 2)

Riccardo Calafiori x Reader - Difficult Part 1/3

Part 2 Part 3

Enjoy!

Post-match interviews, just the words post-match interviews, brought you nightmares as a media manager for Bologna FC.

The preparations, as well as the handling of Italian media, was nothing your professors at school could have ever prepared you for. Neither could they have anticipated the sheer pain in the ass it would be to work with someone like Riccardo Calafiori.

"Who do I get?" You asked your boss, a native Bolognian, and the media principal for the team. He was handing out spreadsheets to each of your colleges, preparing them for the questions the different journalist and their publication may want to ask the players. It was a standard procedure after any game. However, as your boss got to you, there were no more sheets for him to hand out. Instead, he slipped you a pink Post-It note that read - Keep him happy. Keep it short.

"What's this?" You frowned reading the note.

"You're notes."

"But for who? Surely I'm gonna need a bit more than....."

"Y/N." You're boss sighed. "I'm giving you the responsibility of Calafiori tonight. Please do me the favor and make the interviews go as smooth as possible, okay?"

"Calafiori?" You protested. "I'm sorry, sir, but you've got to be kidding me, right? Bologna just lost 3-0 to Fiorentina FC."

"And let's not forget Calafiori's red card." Your boss wiped the sweat of his shiney forhead. "Look, I know that it's not ideal. But the media is eager to speak to him. Let's just make his encounter with the press as quick and snooth as possible. No distractions."

"No. I refuse."

"Please, Y/N. You've done so well before. Why not do it again? Just this one?"

It was true. The last time you had to deal with Riccardo Calafiori and his sharp temperament was in a similar context. Bologna had just been knocked out of Copa Italia after an unnecessary tackle made by Calafiori, who injured a player, which resulted in stoppage time. Enough stoppage time for Bologna to concede a late goal, ultimately losing the crucial game. Calafiori had arrived at the teams dressing room and set out to break anything in his path. That is, until you convinced him to go ahead with his post-match interviews in order to be the first player to be let go for the day. To your suprise, Calafiori agreed to your terms without arguing any further. This achievement certainly earned you some points with your boss. However, something told you that this time would be different.

You watched Bologna players flee their own locker room at the sight of a fuming Calafiori. He made his way down the stadium tunnel, hair covering his face like a dark and unraveling vail. He marched on, into the locker room, slamming the door behind him.

"How about a five percent raise on your salary?" Your boss said, his gaze also fixiated down the tunnel.

"Ten."

"Five, plus an invite to the teams next charity event in Milano."

"Deal."

"Grazie mille!"

It was set. You stuffed the Post-it note in the pocket of your jeans and made your way to the players' locker room. Surely this time couldn't be worse than the last? People change, don't they?

There was only one way to find out.

Part 2 Part 3

[et6rnalsun]

chris sturniolo gets turned on SO easily. like, everything you do is gonna make that dick hard in 1 second and he is totally shameless about it.

but, one thing is gonna do it GOOD.

italian! reader that talks in native language every time you guys argue.

— you didn’t even think too much about it when quick, shouted "fanculo" (fuck you),, "sei un pezzo di merda” (you’re a piece of shit) came out of your mouth. it just happened. anger completely blinded your being, and the time to realize fell on you like a rock as silence took over the room.

chris always liked your accent, that was like a mix. he could hear your origins perfectly in the way you spoke, and he found it fucking cute. but there was something about that moment that was different. the way you yelled it at him, your arms crossed under your breasts — a sign of your obvious annoyance, and the sight of your tongue repeatedly running over your lips to wet them.

you were hot as hell. but that wasn't the right time to notice it.

so chris cleared his throat, running a hand through his messy hair as he just nodded. a simple nod. why were you guys arguing anyway?

"but why don't we stop being mad at each other n shit now? mhm? come on, let me show my pretty mama how beautiful she is right now" he said with his usual innocent expression on his face, slowly moving closer as he opened his arms for a hug? a kiss? anything. he just had to touch you and feel your warmth in that moment.

“ti odio” (i hate you). you rolled your eyes, accepting his embrace as you wrapped your arms around his neck. chris had this incredible ability to make you forget things easily. things that he did, that made you sad or upset. and you totally hated it. well, maybe not entirely.

chris sighed, holding you tighter as his hand slowly moved down towards your ass. “now you're doing it on purpose” he murmured, and his warm breath brushes your neck.

“what?” you asked, a small smirk taking over your lips as you pulled away slightly to look up at him. “i don’t understand"

“oh, poor baby” chris said sarcastically, raising an eyebrow as he tilted his head slightly, his fingers teasing the edge of your shirt. “you really don’t, mhm?”

you simply nodded, melting into the touch of his big hands.

“let's put it this way” he licked his lips, letting his long fingers slide under the waistband of your shorts. "tell me some more shit in italian and i'll fuck you hard enough to make you forget your own name"

[buglordsupreme]

Mouthwashing HCs because my old ass is not immune to rotating characters in my head like a microwave.

❤️‍🩹Anya❤️‍🩹

•28 years old.

•Eastern European, most likely Slavic or from Central Europe.

•Can speak more than three languages. Has an accent.

•Has a long term partner back home. They want to get married but both of them are broke.

•Has two pet cats. Originally, she was allowed to bring them on board with her, but then Pony Express changed their policy and stopped allowing animals in ships.

•She is constantly diagnosing everyone both physically and mentally in her imagination.

•Has a very rich inner world but rarely feels safe sharing it.

•She keeps getting rejected from med school not because of her abilities but because she constantly overthinks and gets too nervous during tests.

•INFP and Pisces.

🪓Swansea🪓

•61 years old.

•He is from the East Coast, probably the Boston area and has a heavy accent.

•British and Irish descent.

•Did not go to College but did go to Trade School.

•Despite being originally from a city, lives in the suburbs around a wooded area.

•Has a loyalty card in most hardware stores and strong opinions about screwdriver handles.

•He calls his dog a “stupid fuck” lovingly and talks to him as if he were a human.

•Has struggled a lot with depression throughout his life and has not gone to therapy as he feels like it would not work on him.

•ISTP and Virgo

🐴Jimmy🐴

•37 years old.

•East Coast, Rhode Island area.

•Italian-American. And yes, he does use his hands a lot when he speaks.

•Likely raised Catholic but now believes “it’s all bullshit”.

•Thinks Chicago-style pizza is an abomination but he can’t cook for shit.

•Long history of awful short-lived relationships and at least one ex has tried to kill him during an argument. (And vice versa)

•Has one kid that he claims isn’t really his. Resents having to pay child support.

•Has smoked ever since he was 14.

•Has been charged several times with petty crimes which have made it hard for him to find work.

-Before Curly helped him out with his position at Pony Express, he was fired from his last job due to embezzlement.

•ESTP (A very unhealthy one) and Capricorn.

🎂Curly🎂

•40 years old. (My HC is that he turns 40 during the Tulpar’s last trip, which is why he is having his whole midlife crisis).

•Born and raised in Canada.

•Moved to the US around his teens or young adulthood (Probably met Jimmy around this time as well).

•Has a bachelor’s degree in Aeronautical Engineering but, since most ships are now operated by machines, had to settle for being a Freighter Pilot.

•The only man in existence that finds shoveling snow relaxing.

•Twice married and twice divorced because works makes it hard to spend time with his spouses. Has one young kid but can rarely see them due to, once again, work.

•One of the reasons he thinks about retiring from being a pilot is so that he can spend more time with his family.

•ESFJ and Libra.

🌺Daisuke🌺

•19 years old.

•Filipino-Japanese.

•Second generation immigrant. His parents worked a lot to get their wealth.

•There is no doubt in my mind that he is Californian.

•Not willing to commit to a relationship yet but is definitely on and off with a couple of girls.

•Has tried to get a fake ID at some point so he could get alcohol. He was caught and arrested and called his mom, crying. He was let go without legal consequences but was severely grounded.

•At school, he was known for drawing amazing caricatures of the teachers. Was suspended at least once for this reason.

•Incredible fashion sense. When he got his Pony Express uniform, he immediately asked if they had other colors. Did not understand at first why they laughed at him.

•ESFP and Leo.